Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Tex babbled non-stop about his new friend while Zinnia helped him wash up. Uncle Graham must have spilled the beans about the birthday party while he’d been describing Laughing Creek Ranch and the Bridger Bunch. Tex had a thousand questions about that, none of which she could answer.
Her son had forgiven her ignorance with a quick it’s okay, I’ll ask Mister Monty. Her son had interacted with plenty of adults in his short life and had liked many of them. But he’d never developed a crush.
His adoration promised to make her avoidance plan a challenge, especially because she agreed with him on the excellence of Monty Bridger. She understood why Tex wanted to name his foal after that cowboy and refused to consider the confusion that might result.
Not that she’d ever mix up the two. As he came toward her balancing a hay bale on his shoulder, her heartbeat shifted into double-time. She’d asked the Universe for a kind and capable vet for her mare. The Universe had overdelivered.
Tex popped the lid off the glass container of brownies and picked up the tongs tucked inside. “Better wash up fast, Mister Monty if you want brownies.”
“I do and I will.” He set the hay bale next to Tex’s stool. “Have a seat, ladies.”
“Thanks.” Zinnia gave him her standard we’re just friends smile. After taking another peek at Speckles, who was back to pacing the stall, she settled onto the crunchy surface of the hay bale.
“He likes you,” her sister murmured, plopping down beside her.
“Mm.”
“You like him, too.”
“I like him.” Tex perched on his stool, hat nudged back and his boot heels hooked over the wooden rung below his seat, looking for all the world like a miniature cowboy at a bar except for the brownies in his lap. “I like him a lot. He gots a birthday, Auntie Mari, and we’re going.”
“We are?” Her brows shot up.
“It’s this Saturday night, sis. I’m guessing that switching shifts is a non-starter, but if you—”
“Yeah, too soon, but a birthday party sounds like fun. I’d like to meet that family.”
“Monty’s mother Raquel said we’re welcome anytime.”
“That’s nice of her. Was she the one who invited you to the birthday party?”
“Uh, no. That was Monty.”
“I see.” Mari gave her a knowing glance.
She lowered her voice. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“Zin, maybe it’s time for—”
“Here he comes.” Excitement rippled through Tex’s announcement, as if a celebrity had just emerged on stage.
She had the same reaction, but she stuffed it. Not much she could do about her son, though.
He gazed at Monty, hero worship shining in his eyes. “Do ya want a brownie, now?”
“I’d love one. But first I’d better check on Speckles. Be right back.” Walking over to the closed stall door, he shoved his hands in his pockets and focused on the mare’s steady progress around the stall.
“I’ll take one, please.” Zinnia got a napkin from Mari and held out her hand, the napkin laid across her palm. They’d practiced this routine many times. He loved passing out baked goods.
He shook his head and dropped his voice to a reverent whisper. “We should wait.”
She chuckled. “Okay.”
“Have a napkin, Uncle Graham, so you’re ready.” Mari handed one over. He’d taken a seat on the hay bale next to her. “If we don’t start eating them soon I’ll have to skip it.”
“Hey, I’m sorry.” Monty turned and came toward them. “I thought you’d all just go ahead.”
“It seems you’re the man of the hour.” Mari held out a napkin. “You’re supposed to go first.”
“Ah.” He took the napkin. “May I please have a brownie, Tex?”
“You gots to put the napkin on your hand and hold it out.”
“Like this?”
“Perfect.” The tip of his tongue poked out as he manipulated the tongs with the concentration of a brain surgeon. The brownie ended up in the exact center of the napkin.
“Nicely done.”
A proud grin lit up his face. “Thanks.”
Zinnia’s insides turned to mush. But she dared not get used to this kind of interaction. It wasn’t like Monty would be hanging around after this episode with Speckles ended.
While Tex passed out the brownies, Monty gave his report between bites. “I still think it’ll be tonight. Wish I could be more specific, but I can’t.” He polished off his brownie. “Delicious.”
“Auntie Mari and me, we maded them.” Tex gazed at the ones left in the pan, his lips moving. “Five!” His focus shifted to the people. “One, two, three, four. We gots an extra, Mommy.”
“I think that’s for you, sweetie.”
“Oh.” He giggled. “I’m five.” Holding up his hand, he stretched out his fingers and thumb toward Monty. “Guess how old I am.”
“Five?”
“Rrright!”
“Hey there, Tex.” Mari held out her napkin. “Can I please have my second one? My time’s running short.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He carefully transferred the brownie before turning back to Monty. “Auntie Mari can’t come to your party. Maybe we can save her some cake.”
“Absolutely. I’ll make sure you get a slice to take home.” He glanced at Mari. “Sorry you can’t make it.”
“So am I.” She smiled. “Uncle Graham thinks a lot of your family. So does my boss Clem. I’m eager to meet them all.”
“We’ll make that happen real soon.”
“Excellent.”
“Want your other brownie, Mister Monty?”
“I do. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Uncle G says you gots a big herd.”
“My family does.”
“My family gots a little herd.”
“Size doesn’t matter, sport.”
“Sometimes it does. Right, Zin?” Mari sent her a bright smile.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She narrowed her eyes at her unhelpful sister. “Isn’t it about time for you to get ready for work?”
“Afraid so.” She popped the last of her brownie into her mouth and stood.
“I’ll come with you. I want to stick a fork in the potatoes and see how they’re doing.” She left her napkin on the hay bale and followed Mari.
“They won’t be done yet.”
“No harm in checking.” The minute they were outside she lowered her voice. “What are you up to?”
“Building a fire under your butt. He’s amazing.”
“So what? I’m not interes—”
“Tell that to someone who doesn’t know you.”
She ducked her head and kept her voice to a murmur. “Okay, I like him, but it’s pointless.”
“Oh, there’s a point. Have you seen how he looks at you?”
Heat flooded through her. “That’s nothing new. Guys are always—”
“But this one comes with Uncle Graham’s stamp of—”
“I know, and I’ve already told our dear uncle to back off. Now I’m telling you.”
“Then you’d better tell Monty, because unless he’s blind, he knows you’re into him.”
“And we’ll have that discussion the minute I get the opportunity. I can’t risk upsetting Tex’s—”
“That’s the other thing. He’s nuts about Monty. It’s adorable.” Mari quickened her pace and bounded up the porch steps.
“Which is even more reason to put the skids on this.” Zinnia followed her into the house. “Monty doesn’t want to take on a woman with a kid.”
“How the hell do you know that?” Toeing off her battered ranch boots, she started toward her bedroom.
“I saw his face this morning when he found out I have a five-year-old. It freaked him out.”
Mari paused at her door and turned around. “Well, he isn’t freaked out now. Just the opposite. He’s been very sweet to Tex.”
“He’s a nice guy. But just because he’s kind to my son doesn’t mean he’d be fine taking on that kind of responsibility. He’s only twenty-seven, Mar.”
She clapped a hand to her chest. “You cradle robber, you!”
“Cut it out. I’m just saying—”
“You’re just saying you’re scared spitless because after years of rebuffing every man who takes an interest, you’ve crossed paths with one who blows all the others out of the water. And you want him.”
“I can’t let myself get carried away. I have to think of Tex.”
“I know you do. And maybe Monty’s too young, and too freaked out about Tex, but from my perspective, he has the makings of a dream come true. You might need to give him some time, but—”
“Too risky.”
Mari gazed at her. “It’s already risky. Tex has a serious crush.”
“I know.” Her chest tightened. “I can’t decide what to do about that.”
“How about asking Monty how he wants to handle it?”
“Oh.” The concept sent fizzy bubbles dancing in her stomach.
“Listen, I have to hit the showers or I’ll be late.”
“I know. I’ll go check the potatoes.” She headed for the kitchen.
“Like it or not,” Mari called after her, “you and Monty are in this together.”
Her breath caught. They were. And she didn’t hate the idea. Which was another red flag.