The Baby And The Cowboy Seal. Laura Altom Marie
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“How could I forget the night my folks died?”
“Right. Sorry.” She’d been angling to see if he remembered their almost-kiss, so ashamed didn’t begin to describe how low her spirits dipped upon realizing that of course he wouldn’t remember something so inconsequential in light of what happened only a few hours later.
“It’s okay.” He kicked a pebble near the toe of his boot. “I mean, it’s not, but you know what I mean. What part of the night were you talking about?”
Her cheeks blazed.
“Because there’s an awful lot I recall besides what happened to Mom and Dad.”
Was it possible he’d thought about their dance in the rain as many times as she had?
“Your daddy still hate me?”
His direct question made her laugh. “Hate’s a strong word, but...”
Wiley laughed, too. “Can’t say I blame him. I wouldn’t have been much good for you then, and I’m a whole lot worse now.”
“Says who?” Her pulse roared in her ears like a jet engine.
“Common sense.”
“I never had much.”
“True,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I recall daring you to jump off Myer’s Bluff—never for a second thinking you’d do it, but you did. The water in that swimming hole had to be barely above freezing. Took me damn near an hour’s worth of holding you to get your teeth to stop chattering.”
She grinned. “Ever think maybe I just liked being held?”
“Talk like that—” he bowed his head, but couldn’t hide his smile “—is liable to lead to trouble.”
“Maybe I like that, too.”
“Macy Shelton, Dot was always threatening to wash your sassy mouth out with soap, and now I remember why. You can’t run around saying things like that.”
“True. But I’m not running—just standing here in the sun with an old friend. What’s the harm in that?” He was so handsome, looking at him might as well have been a dream. Macy didn’t have a clue what had all of a sudden turned her so brazen, nor did she care. All that really mattered was that she was tired of being alone, and no matter what her father said, the fact that fortune had chosen now to bring Wiley back into her life had to be a sign.
“Lord...” He took off his hat, wiping his sweaty brow with his forearm. “That always was your problem. You liked playing with fire, but at least had Clem and Dot around to make sure you didn’t get burned. Only now, you’re a single mom, charged with this little guy’s care.” He jiggled Henry’s left sneaker-clad foot. “Make no mistake, Macy, I’ll always be your friend, but I’m also the worst kind of guy—guaranteed to bring you nothing but pain.”
“You were right to call.” Randall Carthage had been the veterinarian for the Eagle Ridge area for as long as Wiley could remember. His tall, wiry build didn’t quite match his shock of white hair or Santa-worthy beard, which was why when he played the jolly old guy each holiday season, he had to add lots of padding to the moldy costume that had probably been used back when Wiley’s dad had been a little boy. “He’ll be fine, but to be on the safe side, let’s give him some salve and a round of antibiotics.”
“Thank you.” When Macy held her baby on her hip while gifting the vet with a one-armed hug, Wiley fought a jealous pang. For an irrational flash, he wanted to be on the receiving end of her gratitude. “Charlie’s a mess, but I love him.”
The vet stroked the animal’s side, and the miserable beast didn’t stomp or spit.
Wiley asked, “How come I’m the only one who draws out Charlie’s nasty side?”
The vet laughed. “Don’t take it personal. Maybe he’s partial to the fairer sex. Although, if that is the case, I’m not sure what that means about him getting along with an old codger like me.” He winked at Macy. “Now, Wiley, if you don’t mind, let’s hold him in your barn overnight to keep him calm, and then, if he seems all right in the morning, go ahead and walk him over to his pasture.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” Wiley asked. “The beast can’t stand me.”
“All right, well, Macy can put a lead rope on Charlie, and you hold the baby. Will that work?”
“Sounds good to me.” Macy jiggled her son. “What do you think, Henry?”
The baby cooed.
Wiley’s chest tightened.
While Macy and the vet talked llamas, Wiley recalled the last time he’d been around an infant—his friend Grady’s Oklahoma housewarming. A bunch of the guys from their SEAL team had flown in for the event that had been held on Grady’s family ranch. Just a few months earlier and Wiley’s whole life had been different—better in every conceivable way. Holding Grady’s infant son on that warm, spring day beneath the vast Oklahoma sky, he’d had his whole life ahead of him. He’d been surrounded by longtime SEAL friends and their families. Cooper and Millie. Heath and Libby. Mason and Hattie. He’d been thrilled for his married friends, but welcomed the companionship of his single friends Marsh and Rowdy. They’d all fished and grilled and downed too many beers and in general did plenty of good man shit until Mason’s bossy wife told them all to shut up before they woke the sleeping kids.
Crazy how fast everything could change.
His life had been measured in tragedies—first third, his folks dying. Second third—his career going to shit. For the rest of his life, he figured he’d live alone on this piece of land that was more rock than dirt, and then he’d die.
“Who gets the pleasure of paying for my good looks and company?” Randall asked.
“Me.” Macy raised her hand.
“I’ll take care of it, Doc. It was my barbed wire.” Before Macy could launch an argument, Wiley took his wallet from his jeans back pocket and fished out a hundred bucks. “Will this cover it?”
The vet nodded. “Macy, I’ll come to your place tomorrow to give him more antibiotic.”
“Thanks again.”
He waved on his way to his truck. “No problem. Oh—Wiley, wonder if you might do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“If you don’t mind, follow me, and I’ll explain.”
“Should I be worried?” Wiley asked. Maybe he ought to have asked what the favor entailed before agreeing?
“Nah...” Randall’s low, throaty chuckle had Wiley thinking the opposite. At his truck, the doc walked around to the tailgate,