His Favorite Cowgirl

The child jerked her head toward her dad. “He’ll send me back. He always does.”

He always does? Kelly scoured Hank’s face where guilt darkened his blue eyes. “Really?”

“Not this time.”

His firm response did little to douse a sudden flare-up of old doubts, painful memories. Her mind flashed to the absolute relief that had flooded her boyfriend’s face the night she’d told him she’d lost the baby. His baby. Noelle’s reaction struck another blow against any hope that Hank’s attitude toward family and children had changed over the years. Kelly sucked in much-needed air. She couldn’t trust a man who didn’t put his child above his own needs and wants. As for his daughter, she’d handled more than one entitled teen in her years at Palmetto Boots. The company gave so many of them entry-level positions that classes in dealing with difficult employees were mandatory. Kelly turned even farther in her seat and studied Noelle until the girl made eye contact.

“Let’s try that again, shall we? Only this time, I’d appreciate a bit more respect.” She extended her hand across the space between them. “Hi. I’m Kelly.”

Noelle’s smirk fell from her lips. Her face reddened. “I’m Noelle,” she said, blinking.

They shook while Hank put the truck in gear and pulled neatly into the flow of downtown traffic. “How’d things go with the lawyer?” he asked, as though the conversation between Kelly and his daughter had taken place in another vehicle...on a different planet.

Kelly glanced at the child, who had retreated to the farthest corner of the vehicle. A casual observer might think the passing scenery had captured the girl’s attention. But blue eyes so much like her dad’s glanced into the front seat often enough to prove that Noelle listened in on every word. Kelly shifted in her seat. Striking a businesslike tone, she said, “For now, let’s just say it didn’t go the way I expected. Not even close.”

By the time they left West Palm’s city limits, the faint strains of an unexpected country rhythm seeped from Noelle’s earbuds. Kelly checked to make sure the child was bent over her cell phone before she pitched a low question to Hank.

“Did you have a chance to run those comps?” They had planned on talking about real estate that morning. Instead, she’d watched the flat land roll past, intrigued by how little the area had changed in the twelve years she’d been away. Oh, the State had resurfaced the two-lane roads. Hank’s truck flew past a new gas station or two. Mostly, though, the long stretch between Okeechobee and West Palm remained home to dairy farmers and ranchers. Green grass stretched for miles, interrupted only by barbed wire fences and wide drainage ditches.

Hank pulled a folder from the center console. “Not too many ranches the size of your grandfather’s have changed hands around here lately,” he said, as she reached for it. “Developers have bought up the land around the cities, but so far, no one seems to be interested in building luxury high-rises in our little corner of the world.”

“Thank goodness.” She might not want the ranch for herself, but she couldn’t bear to think of it being turned into a housing complex. She flipped open the folder. Skimming over land sales throughout South Florida, she felt her pulse quicken at the amount a neighbor had gotten for flood-prone acreage. “The Barlowe place went for that much? I had no idea.”

“With your prime grazing land and good water, the Bar X should bring a tidy sum. Of course, the economy has taken a hit lately, and you have repairs to make. The house...” Hank lifted a hand. “I wouldn’t put a lot of money into it. Most buyers will want to tear it down and start fresh.”

“Pops wanted everything to stay the way Gramma left it.” Come to think of it, Kelly had, too. She pictured worn fixtures and a decor that hadn’t been updated in over twenty years.

Flipping to a page where Hank had estimated a price per acre, she swallowed. “Okay, you’ve impressed me.” Her old boyfriend might not have been much of a father, but he knew his stuff when it came to real estate. “I guess this explains why the tax bill was so high.” Writing that check had all but depleted her savings account. She glanced up. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance Ty would be interested in buying the Bar X.”

Hank shook his head. “I asked him about it last night. He’s stretched a little thin right now. Maybe in another year or two.”

Kelly toyed with her bracelets. She couldn’t wait that long. She needed a buyer, and soon. Her bosses in Houston had already called twice for updates on the Ivey’s account. They’d made it clear she had to close the deal in order to secure her future at Palmetto Boots. Meanwhile, her grandfather’s insurance would cover his care at the rehab center, but once he moved to a nursing home, the bills would mount quickly. The only way to provide him with the best possible care was to sell the ranch for top dollar. Preferably yesterday. With shaking fingers she smoothed a few strands of hair that had escaped from her sleek updo. She stashed the folder in her satchel. Though she intended to ask for more details on projected sales figures, Hank had slowed for the usual traffic buildup on the outskirts of Okeechobee.

“Next stop Eli’s,” he announced a few minutes later. He steered into a parking space and cut the motor. “Noelle packed a little light for her trip.”

In the backseat, his daughter removed her earbuds. Her mouth gaped open as she stared at the fake hitching post that adorned the wood-frame building. “This isn’t the mall,” she protested.

“Judds have been shopping at Eli’s since the day the store opened,” Hank countered. “Trust me. They’ll have everything you need.”

He slipped the keys into his pocket as if that was the end of the discussion, but, from the way his daughter’s face darkened, Kelly sensed a brewing storm. Hoping to ward it off, she aimed a supportive smile at the kid dressed from head to toe in designer labels. “It may not be couture, but I’m sure we can find something you’ll like. Me, too. I was in such a hurry to get here, I only packed a few things.”

Noelle’s gaze bounced between the two adults. Kelly waited until, at last, the child pinned her with an appraising look. “Honest? You shop here?” she asked.

“Every chance I get,” Kelly swore. Truth be told, when she’d been Noelle’s age, she would have given her eyeteeth for a pair of jeans from Eli’s. Her grandfather, however, had insisted that Goodwill was good enough. Which, she guessed, explained the mail-order account she’d established after receiving her first paycheck.

“C’mon,” she urged the child. “You can help me find some work jeans while we pick up whatever you need.”

Indecision played across the girl’s elfin face for a long moment before Noelle reluctantly set aside her electronic gadgets. “I guess I need some jeans to wear horseback riding.”

Holding the door for his daughter, Hank mouthed a silent thank you over the roof of the truck. Kelly shrugged the comment aside. Beneath Noelle’s false bravado was a kid who just wanted what every kid did—to be loved. A task her father had evidently neglected.

At the store’s threshold, Kelly paused for a moment to drink in a welcoming blend of leather and linseed oil. She swallowed a smile when Noelle stopped in the middle of the aisle, apparently transfixed by the life-size posters of rodeo stars mounted on the walls. Eli’s claimed to carry everything a modern rancher needed. With racks of clothes, boots and leather goods crowding the floor, the owners lived up to their promise. Left alone, Kelly knew she could spend hours sorting through the rows of sequin-studded jeans or shirts with Western piping along the collars. She stole a quick glance at the Palmetto Boot display and gave a nod of approval at its prominent location, while Hank strode to the counter without so much as a glance at the fringed buckskin jackets that made her mouth water.

“Hey, Mark.” Hank nodded to the stocky clerk at the register. “You remember Kelly Tompkins, don’t you?”

“Why, sure. We used to hang out at the Circle P.” Mark extended one hand for the obligatory shake. “Sorry to hear about your grandfather. He doing okay?”

Not at all surprised word had already spread thirty miles to the neighboring town, Kelly nodded. “He has a long, hard road ahead of him, but he’s a fighter.”

“Well, tell him we’re all hoping for a speedy recovery,” Mark said. “Now, how can I help ya’ll today?”

“This is my daughter, Noelle.” Hank’s hand on her shoulder propelled the child forward. “She needs two—make that three—pairs of Wranglers, a couple of T-shirts, a pair of boots and a hat.”

Mark nodded. “I think we can fix you right up.” He cast a glance over Noelle, considering. “You’re a mite on the small side. You wear a 7/8?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “You step into that dressing room in the back.” He turned to Hank. “What color you want for those T-shirts?”

“Black and yellow still the colors for Moore Haven Elementary?” At the man’s nod, Hank said, “Let’s stick with those.” He grabbed a six-pack of white socks and plunked them down on the glass counter. “These, too, I reckon.”

When Noelle gave her dad such a thunderous look the air practically crackled, Kelly fought the urge to laugh out loud. Honestly, the man had no clue. Knowing there was going to be an explosion if she didn’t intervene, she stepped into the space between the father and his child. “Honey,” she whispered, pulling the girl aside, “why don’t you go look at the cowboy hats while I talk to your dad for a minute?” She pointed to a corner of the store filled with stacks of hats of all kinds.

Once Noelle moved out of earshot, she turned to Hank. Getting involved in his life was exactly what she didn’t want to do, but a sense of kinship with a lonely little girl made her want to help. “Don’t you think your daughter is old enough to pick out her own clothes?” she asked.

“Nah.” Hank shook his head. “You see what she’s wearing. If I let her shop on her own, she’ll end up lookin’ like a buckle bunny at the rodeo.”

Kelly stole a quick glance at the child, who had unearthed what had to be the only pink-feathered Stetson in the store. While the girl preened in front of the mirror, she conceded that Hank had a point. Noelle couldn’t be left to her own devices. But Hank and the salesman weren’t much help, either.

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll help her pick out a few things. There are chairs in front of the dressing rooms. You go sit in one.” At the confusion that swam in Hank’s eyes, she shook her head. “It’s going to take some time,” she said slowly. “We’ll be along in a little while.”

“We’re just grabbing a couple of...” Hank glanced over one shoulder to the waiting area. “You sure?”

If there was one thing Kelly understood, it was a girl’s need to feel pretty. “If she steps into a pair of jeans she likes first thing in the morning, she’ll be a lot more likely to be in a good mood for the rest of her day. You want her to enjoy her time here, don’t you?”

Though the sad look Hank aimed at his daughter nearly broke her heart, Kelly quashed her urge to give the man a sympathetic hug. The past was past. She wasn’t about to dredge up old feelings that might lead to new hurts. Forcing herself to stay strong, she pointed to the dressing area. “Okay, then. Let’s do this.”

Though his rounded shoulders told her Hank still didn’t quite get it, she gave him credit for trying when he folded his long frame into the chair. Kelly turned away, tamping down a stab of longing while she gathered her wits about her to help Hank’s daughter.

At Noelle’s side, she lifted the hat from the girl’s head. “That’s a little too fancy for everyday. We don’t want to scare the horses.” She feigned horror and gave an exaggerated shiver that brought a smile to the child’s lips. “What if we pick out some tops and jeans first. Then, once we know your style, you can find a hat to match.”

“I like sparkles,” Noelle said shyly.

“What girl doesn’t?” Kelly agreed.

Having established some common ground, they forged into the children’s section. Before long, they had amassed a pile of glittery shirts and jeans with ornately stitched pockets. Her arms filled, Kelly grabbed a couple of pairs of Wranglers and two long-sleeved tops for herself on their way to the dressing rooms.

“Make sure you try on everything,” she told the girl. “I want to see it all.”

While Noelle changed into her first outfit, Kelly stepped into a pair of jeans she could just as easily wear running errands as horseback riding. A quick peek in the mirror told her the chignon she’d worn to the attorney’s office was too prim and proper for the casual clothes. She tugged at the pins and sent her hair cascading past her shoulders. She worried the blouse might be a bit too snug, but, anxious to see how Noelle had done with her choices, she stepped from behind the curtain. All decked out in sequins and glittery jeans, the little girl beamed up with her first honest smile of the day.

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