The Cowboy's Comeback (Montana Mavericks: What Happened To Beatrix? Book 2) Page 2

  Robby nodded. “Isn’t it so awesome that I’m getting a dog?” he asked. “My mom has a dog but I’ve never met him. Well, it’s not really her dog. It’s Enzo’s. That’s her boyfriend. They live in Colado.”

  “Colorado,” Holt corrected, the neckline of his Henley shirt tightening on him. The way Robby talked about his mom just then, you’d think it didn’t bother the boy at all that he’d barely had contact with her—and hadn’t for four years. But it did. Sometimes, that stupid saying Holt couldn’t stand—it is what it is—brought Holt to his knees, but it mostly just kept him from getting a decent night’s sleep. Some things he didn’t know how to fix.

  Amanda’s expression was a mixture of so many emotions he couldn’t pick out the strongest. Robby sure did like to talk.

  “Well,” Holt said, forcing a smile. “Let’s go check out the dogs, Robby.” Not that he wanted a fast getaway. Or any getaway from Amanda.

  “I’ll text Daphne to meet you two there,” Amanda said, pulling out her phone and double-thumbing away. Seconds later she nodded. “Yup, Daphne will be over there in a few minutes. I’ll show you the way,” she added, tucking a swath of her long hair behind one ear. He noticed her delicate gold and ruby earrings, a sweet sixteen gift from her parents, he recalled. “The dogs have their own separated section of the barn with large cozy kennels that lead to outdoor runs for them.”

  She started walking and Holt had to tell his feet to move—that was how startled he was by her presence in the first place.

  They went into the dog area, which managed to be sunny and shady, tranquil and energetic all at once. There were large white boards with dog names and schedules of who was walked when, and pegs that held many leashes and tables beneath with supplies, from dog food to treats. Robby walked up and down the rows of kennels, Holt trailing behind him, too aware of Amanda standing by the door and probably still reeling, as he was, from the craziness of running into each other ten years later.

  Unless he was flattering himself. They hadn’t exactly parted on good terms, and it was one summer out of her life. Maybe she hadn’t given him a thought in all these years.

  Robby was greeted by barks and dogs jumping up against the kennel doors. The seven-year-old stopped in front of the kennel of a medium-size black-and-white dog—a border collie mix, if Holt had that right.

  Robby grinned at the dog, who sat staring at him, head tilted. He didn’t jump or bark. The dog put his paw up on a bar of the door as if to say hi. Some dogs looked like they were smiling, and this was one of those.

  “He likes me!” Robby exclaimed. “Hi. I’m Robby! I’m seven. I like running, talking, TV shows, Minecraft, cheeseburgers, ice cream, my grandparents and my uncles, and Daring Drake the bronc rider.”

  Holt glanced at Amanda, who was smiling. He had to admit, he liked that she seemed charmed by Robby instead of irritated by his happy chatter. He’d dated quite a few women the past couple of years, thinking about trying to settle down, to find his Ms. Right and Robby a wonderful mother. But any woman he’d been attracted to had not been mom material either because she showed no interest in Robby at all or because she couldn’t handle his energy.

  The dog wedged his snout through the bars as much as he could, his head tilted. One side was white, the other black, one ear white, one ear black, his furry body big sections of either color while his legs were mottled. The dog was particularly cute.

  “Bentley is superfriendly,” another voice said, and they all turned.

  Daphne Taylor, around his age with long, wavy red hair and a warm expression, came toward them with a smile. Over a week ago, Holt had filled out an application to adopt a dog, then a few days later, Daphne had visited Dalton’s Grange for a home check, scoping out his house and walking around the property. He, Robby and their cabin had passed with flying colors.

  Daphne smiled at Robby and shook both their hands. “Nice to see you two again,” she said. “I’ll get a leash and let him out.”

  When Daphne brought the dog over to Robby, he fell to his knees in front of him and Bentley licked his face twice, calmly, not jumping, not barking, not knocking him over, then actually put his head on Robby’s shoulder.

  Holt almost gasped.

  Amanda put her hand over her mouth.

  Robby threw his arms around Bentley. “You really like me! I like you too.” Bentley licked Robby’s cheek again, his tail wagging. While petting him, Robby began telling Bentley his life story. “I was born in Whitehorn. That’s a town in Montana. And then we moved to Bronco. You’re gonna love Dalton’s Grange. That’s our ranch...”

  Daphne’s phone pinged and she excused herself for a moment.

  Holt stood and read the information on the sheet attached to the Bentley’s kennel. “Bentley, age four. Elderly owner surrender. Gets along with kids, other dogs, cats, animals, friendly and housebroken, nicely trained in the basics. Bonded pair with Oliver.”

  “Bonded pair?” Holt asked, looking at Amanda.

  “Oh that’s right,” she said, biting her lip and clearly worried she should have said something earlier. “Bentley was surrendered with Oliver—a cat. They were raised together as a pup and kitten and they’re very close. Daphne is firm on adopting them out only together.”

  Robby turned to Holt, his face falling. “Does that mean we can’t get Bentley?” he asked, his lower lip trembling. He turned back to the dog and hugged him, the dog seeming to actually like the heavy affection. “Is Oliver your best friend? I don’t have a best friend. You’re lucky.” He stood up and wiped under his eyes. “I think Oliver and Bentley should stay together. They’re best friends.”

  “Well, I guess that means we’re bringing them both home,” Holt said, a sucker for bonded pairs. Plus he’d always liked cats. Sleek and independent creatures.

  Robby’s eyes widened like plates. He flung himself at Holt and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “Now, the three of you will be best friends,” Amanda said with that dazzling smile. “I’ll text Daphne to bring Oliver on her way back in so that you can meet him.”

  Holt glanced at her. There was a time when he’d thought of Amanda as his best friend. Just for those two months that they’d been a couple, but she’d had a big influence on him afterward. He’d never stopped wanting to be the guy she’d thought he was. By the time he’d realized that, it was too late. He’d actually driven out to her college about six months after they broke up, but as he’d arrived in the parking lot of her dorm, he’d seen her going in with a guy, his arm around her shoulders Amanda laughing at something the guy had said. Holt had sat there in his car for a good ten minutes, feeling like absolute dog-doo, then had finally gone home and dated as many women as he could until he stopped thinking about Amanda Jenkins so much.

  Robby beamed and wriggled down, continuing to tell Bentley all about Dalton’s Grange, and that Oliver was going to love it too even though he hadn’t even met Oliver, but if Bentley loved Oliver, then Robby would too.

  Amanda was chuckling and wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But your son is adorable. I always think the animals that find good homes are lucky, but I know that Bentley and Oliver will be very loved and very well cared for.”

  Not that you took good care of me, of us, he imagined her adding. Which was nuts. Her expression hadn’t changed. He supposed he just felt guilty at how he’d left things, even if she’d clearly moved on. She’d thought they’d figure it out once camp ended but he’d just walked away, barely saying goodbye.

  This whole summer you made me forget that people can shock you, she’d called after him. Maybe it’s good you just reopened my eyes to reality.

  He’d stopped in his tracks and wanted to run back to her and apologize, tell her who he really was, no one that she’d want to be involved with if she knew the real him. A dropout. A troublemaker. He’d been arrested twic
e for stupid stuff, but he’d been in a jail cell, if only for less than an hour. His reason for working at Camp KidPower? Court-ordered community service. He’d been going nowhere fast at twenty-two, and Amanda had had the world at her feet. She hadn’t had the easiest childhood but had been focused and self-motivated. Then again, her parents had been financially comfortable if on the negligent side, leaving her to fend for herself, which she had.

  His parents had had nothing until his dad had struck it rich gambling just over a year ago, enabling his parents to start fresh in Bronco—specifically Bronco Heights, the “right” side of town for once. Holt and his four brothers would have stayed where they’d all been scattered across Montana, but their mom had had a heart attack last year, and the scare had made them all want to stay close, look out for her. His dad wasn’t always easy to be around, even with money taking a huge stress load off his shoulders, but Holt had to say, he loved Dalton’s Grange. And he loved having his family right there for Robby.

  Daphne came back in with Oliver in a cat carrier and set it on the floor of the barn. “Oliver is four years old just like Bentley. He likes back scratches, playing with string and little balls, and curling up next to Bentley for his many naps. He’s a real sweetie.”

  Robby knelt and peered in. “He’s black-and-white just like Bentley! I love Oliver!” The boy stretched out on his belly, smiling at his new cat through the barred door of the carrier and now telling Oliver his life story.

  “Looks like our little family just grew by two,” Holt said, nodding at Daphne. “Let’s bring our new family members home, Robby. You can show them your room. I’ll bet that’s where they’ll want to sleep.”

  “Thanks to a generous donation from Bentley and Oliver’s previous owner’s family, Happy Hearts has everything you may need for them, from a dog bed to food they like, to brand-new bowls and toys,” Daphne said. “I’ll go grab those bags and the paperwork. We’ll meet in the lobby in five minutes.”

  “I’m headed out,” Amanda said to him. “I’ll show you the way.”

  Headed out. No, he thought. Not yet. He could still barely believe he was actually standing a few feet from Amanda Jenkins. He was far from ready to say goodbye.

  “Well, goodbye,” Amanda said as she stopped near an archway—she certainly was ready.

  “Thanks for helping me,” Robby said, beaming at her.

  She grinned at him. “My pleasure. Bentley and Oliver sure are lucky to be going home with such a wonderful boy who loves dogs and cats and cares so much about their friendship.”

  Robby beamed and looked at his dad to make sure he’d heard such praise. Holt sent her a smile of thanks. Amanda met his gaze and held it for a moment as if she wanted to say something. But she didn’t.

  Daphne came back in with papers in her hand. “Oh, Amanda—I just thought of something! Remember how we talked about you doing a story for the Happy Hearts website on a new adoption? How about you cover this adoption? Bentley and Oliver joining the Dalton family. It’s such a great story—two best friends going home with a little boy to a beautiful ranch.”

  Holt raised an eyebrow. He noticed Amanda pale.

  “Um, sure,” Amanda said.

  Holt nodded. “Happy to help.”

  “We’re going to be famous!” Robby said to Bentley and Oliver.

  Daphne smiled. “Amanda, I’ll text you the contact info. And then you two can set a time for the interview. Get lots of great photos,” she added.

  Amanda managed a smile but looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her. “I sure will.”

  He was assured of seeing her again. Thank you, Daphne.

  Even if Amanda Jenkins looked like she never wanted to lay eyes on him again.

  Chapter Two

  Amanda got into her car in the gravel parking area at Happy Hearts, expecting to hightail it out of there to put some space between her and Holt, but she needed a minute in her car to decompress. Maybe a few.

  Holt Dalton. In the flesh. After all these years.

  Her first love, her first everything. She’d had crushes and a few boyfriends before Holt, but when she met him at age twenty-one, the summer before her senior year in college, she finally knew what everyone was talking about when they used the words in love and you’ll know and The One. The tall, sexy, dark-haired, dark-eyed Holt, on whom every female KidPower staffer had had an immediate crush, had surprised her with his attention the first day. There’s just something about you, he’d say, staring into her eyes, talking away, asking her questions, listening to her. He’d truly seen her, seen something exciting and irresistible in the shy, quiet, bookish young woman in the ponytail and glasses. She’d opened up with him, become more herself. She’d thought they’d always be together. But he’d just walked away from her at summer’s end as if she’d meant nothing to him.

  What did Amanda expect? she’d heard girls around her whisper on that last day, when everyone was hugging goodbye. Holt the Hottie with Nose in a Book Amanda Who Doesn’t Want People Calling Her Mandy? Like that would last.

  Well, they were right. And dammit, she didn’t like people calling her Mandy because her grandpop had called her that her whole life, just him, and when she’d lost him, she didn’t need people she barely knew giving her that special nickname because Amanda was too long or they wanted to tell her who she was. She’d tried explaining that to a blind date a few years ago, and he’d told her to lighten up. Sigh. Amanda was used to not easily connecting with people.

  She slid down in her seat and glanced toward the door of the barn where she could just make out Holt and Daphne sitting at a table, going over paperwork. No surprise that he had grown into a gorgeous man. Getting over him had been rough. She remembered how she’d forced herself to finally go on dates, mostly involving studying at the college library or the lounge of her dorm, and how she’d tried to lighten up. She’d had some short-term relationships over the years, no one measuring up to Holt Dalton. Until she’d met Tyler two years ago. She’d thought she’d finally met her guy and had gotten swept up in the whirlwind of them and had even agreed to his crazy, romantic plan of eloping to Las Vegas.

  She turned to face away from the building, staring at the peaceful cows that Robby Dalton had been mesmerized by. She willed herself to think about the social media posts she’d schedule for Daphne and Happy Hearts and not let her mind go deeper into her almost-marriage, not right now, not after seeing Holt—talk about a double whammy—but the memories came.

  Tyler had booked a honeymoon suite with the glittering lights of the strip outside their window, way up on the forty-second floor. That night, the plan was to go to the elegant wedding chapel in their hotel, her in the beautiful white dress she’d bought—not quite a wedding gown but still bridal—Tyler in his tux. Her handsome fiancé, a businessman she’d met through a work-related fund-raiser, had gone down to the casino to let her get dressed so he wouldn’t see his bride until she was all dolled up. She’d texted him to let him know she was ready, but he didn’t respond. Not to her texts or her calls. She’d waited and waited, pacing and calling and texting him, wondering what the holdup was, praying he hadn’t gotten into an accident—she’d actually been about to call local hospitals—and then came the text.

  I’m so sorry. The reality of almost doing this made me realize I can’t. Sorry. You deserve better. I paid for the room till the morning, so no worries.

  Right. No worries. She’d gotten herself together after ugly-crying for a good hour and checked out that same night, renting a car and driving north as long as she could before the tears made her eyes too blurry. She’d found the closest motel, somewhere in Utah, and checked in. In the morning she’d driven home to Whitehorn, Montana, and made some decisions. There hadn’t been much for her in her hometown; her parents had retired to Arizona years before, she was so shy that she had few friends in town, and her job as the social media liaison for a county-wide
bank was pretty dull. She’d typed Best places to live in Montana into her search engine, and the first town that popped up was Bronco, a bit farther north. It was part Wild West with an old ghost story legend, part glitzy with a vibrant but small downtown, and she liked that it was bigger and more diverse than she was used to. But best of all, a very good friend from college, Brittany Brandt, lived there, and she was looking for a roommate. Amanda had sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the universe for that.

  Bronco, here we come, she’d said to her cat, Poindexter, and two weeks later they headed north. She’d instantly loved the swanky BH247 apartment complex with views of the mountains, indoor and outdoor pools, a hot tub and lots of singles. That was the strange thing about Amanda; she liked being around people and hoopla, just not for long. She’d pretty much stayed in her shell, much to her very outgoing roommate’s chagrin. What would be the point of dating when it led to having your spirit crushed, your heart irrevocably broken, your trust obliterated? And so Amanda had focused on work, leveraging her social media and marketing work experience into her own small business, and now she had a solid list of clients, from Happy Hearts Animal Sanctuary to Bronco Bank and Trust. Since most of her work was online, introverted, shy Amanda had found her sweet spot—and on her sofa most of the time.

  But then something happened that had changed everything. Something very unexpected. Soon after moving to Bronco, Amanda had walked into Tender Years Daycare for a preliminary meeting with the owners on plans for marketing, and those little kids singing their ABCs and running around in the playground had stopped her in her tracks. She wanted a family. A child. The feeling had gripped her and hadn’t let go. A baby. Problem was, she didn’t want to have a child on her own. Every time she envisioned holding a little hand, there was a man beside her, holding the other tiny hand.