Single-Dad Cowboy by Vicki Lewis Thompson
Chapter Two
Taking her principal’s advice, Nell asked the parent chaperones to be the first ones on the bus and claim seats in the back. They could supervise from the rear. Then she staked out the two front seats by laying a reserved sign on each one.
“Hey, Suzanne.” She smiled at the driver.
“Big day, huh?”
“My first field trip.”
“It’ll be good. The kids like you. I hear them talking among themselves. They think you’re cool.”
“They do?” What sweetie-pies.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s nice to know.” She stepped down and joined Harland by the bus door. She’d lucked out starting her teaching career with Harland Kuhn, a seasoned educator with thirty years of experience and an endless supply of compassion.
Her third-grade class waited quietly in a reasonably straight line, exactly as they’d practiced since the beginning of the year. Today they’d lined up by shirt color, with red in front.
Her throat tightened at the expectation shining in their eager expressions. She’d fallen in love with these kids, and in another week they wouldn’t be hers anymore. They’d head off for summer break and in September they’d be Valerie Jenson’s fourth graders.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you for being so courteous while you waited. When you board, sit wherever you like but no more than three per seat. Once you’ve chosen, stay in that seat. If you need me, raise your hand and I’ll come to you. I’ll be in the front behind the driver and Principal Kuhn will be across the aisle from me.” She stepped aside and motioned them up the steps.
Harland took the other side of the door, bestowing smiles and salutes as the kids filed past. Of average height and build, he wasn’t particularly imposing until he spoke. His rich voice could calm a sobbing child or silence an auditorium filled with noisy students. She adored him and so did the kids.
Although the class had been reasonably quiet in line, negotiating their seating arrangement was a noisy affair. They chattered like a flock of sparrows at a bird feeder.
Suzanne surveyed the process with a practiced eye. After ten years behind the wheel of a school bus, she was a steadying influence. As the din subsided, she leaned toward the open bus door. “They’re pretty much settled, folks.”
“Thanks, Suzanne.” Nell climbed in, picked up the cardboard sign and slid into her seat. Harland positioned himself across the aisle and gave her a thumbs-up before he turned to face the rows of eight-year-olds.
He was a savvy veteran of many such outings. He liked to joke that field trips were responsible for his gray hair. She, on the other hand, was a first-timer, at least as a teacher in charge. She had great memories of her own field trips at this age, though.
She swiveled in her seat and took a quick head count. Claire and Piper had commandeered the seat behind her. Riley and Tatum were in the next seat back.
The girls were inseparable. Claire’s passion for horses and ranch life had drawn them together three months ago. Now all four were obsessed with having a horse of their own.
Riley had been the first to achieve it. Her parents had given her a ten-year-old bay gelding for her birthday last month. Piper’s and Tatum’s families lived on property that lacked the zoning for large animals, but both sets of parents had agreed to book some riding lessons this summer.
Claire was holding out for a buckskin, which meant she’d have to wait until her dad could afford one. For the bus ride, she and Piper had twisted on the bench seat so they could continue an animated debate with Riley and Tatum about the best breeds for barrel racing.
Nell had been horse-crazy at eight, too. She and her parents had lived in a high-rise in San Francisco, but that hadn’t stopped her from dreaming of galloping across a flower-strewn mountain valley on a black stallion. Wasn’t to be.
Not then, anyway. But now she lived in the sort of valley she’d dreamed of and she had connections to people with horses. She’d been too busy settling into her first year of teaching to take riding lessons, but summer break was right around the corner. Maybe she’d offer to take Piper and Tatum to their lessons and sign up for some herself.
“I can’t wait to run the barrels this summer,” Claire announced. “I get to start the first week after school’s out. I’m going to practice and practice. I want to be the youngest member of the Babes.”
“You need to be really good,” Riley said. “I saw them perform at the Founders’ Day Celebration and they go so fast, they’re like a blur.”
“I’m getting better at riding. Daddy and Auntie Ed—the lady I told you about who’s a barrel racing champion—they say I’ll be ready to start training once school’s out.”
The mention of Claire’s father sent a tingle up Nell’s spine. She’d managed to play it cool with the guy, but damn, he was one appealing cowboy. Valerie, the fourth-grade teacher who had become a good friend, had labeled Zeke too gorgeous for words.
Nell appreciated that about him. But his attitude toward his daughter had impressed her even more than his looks.
Clearly he loved Claire beyond reason. Anyone could see that. As a single dad, he easily could have spoiled her rotten. Instead he’d taught her respect, empathy and a work ethic that would put many adults to shame. She’d been a dedicated assistant during the greenhouse project.
When Nell had asked Zeke to help with that, she’d justified the impulse as an opportunity to acquaint herself with a new student and the student’s parent. Yeah, right. Valerie had teased her about making that call.
But it wasn’t like a romance had blossomed. Or even much of a friendship. Darn it. Now that she no longer needed him for the greenhouse project, she rarely saw him.
She’d poured out her heart to Val one night over a bottle of wine. Maybe the attraction was all on her end and she was wrong about the mutual chemistry. But no, she wasn’t wrong. She had evidence.
He’d insisted on driving her home after their work sessions even though she lived within walking distance of school. When he’d handed her into his truck, he’d had that warm look in his eyes, as if he’d enjoyed the excuse to touch her.
Maybe he was uncomfortable with the concept of dating his daughter’s teacher. If so, his daughter hadn’t gotten the memo. She’d asked her dad to pick her up from school several times so he could see how well the veggies were growing.
Each time she’d manufactured some reason why Nell needed to accompany them to the greenhouse. And since the school day was over, he’d offer her a ride home. Eventually Nell had figured out Claire was trying her hand at matchmaking.
The field trip hadn’t looked like part of her scheme until she’d mentioned that all seven wranglers, including her dad, would serve as guides. During the process of organizing the class into seven groups, she’d insisted that Nell needed to pair up with Zeke to supervise Claire and her three overly enthusiastic friends.
As Claire’s teacher, she had veto power. She could have reduced the combined energy level of those girls by splitting them up. She didn’t have the heart. Their friendship had the potential to last through high school, maybe even beyond. Shared memories of this field trip would be part of their history.
As for pairing with Zeke, she had no objection and Val had urged her to accept Claire’s machinations and enjoy herself.
She planned to. Spending two hours with him wouldn’t be a hardship. Maybe she’d figure out whether she’d misread those signs of interest on his part. And if he was hesitant because she was Claire’s teacher, that barrier would be gone in—
Claire jiggled her arm where it rested along the back of the seat. “Miss O’Connor! We’re here!”
Oops. She’d missed the drive in. Missed the rest of the conversation between Claire and her friends. What else had she missed? Evidently the kids had been model students. Surely she would have seen a hand waving frantically or heard the commotion if an argument had broken out.
But if the topic of Zeke had the power to distract her that much, she’d better watch herself this afternoon. She had a job to do.
“My, my, my,” Suzanne murmured as she pulled the bus into the bunkhouse parking area nose first. Leaning on the steering wheel, she stared out the windshield. “If that ain’t a sight for sore eyes.”
Nell turned to see what Suzanne was talking about and her breath caught. Seven tall, muscular cowboys stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the bunkhouse, arms crossed loosely over their broad chests. “I guess that’s our welcoming committee.”
Suzanne kept her voice low. “They can welcome me any ol’ time.”
“Uh-huh.” The men presented an arresting visual, especially the one wearing the black yoked shirt with silver piping and pearl buttons. One glance and her heart beat in triple time. She took a few calming breaths as Suzanne switched off the engine and opened the door.
At first she hadn’t recognized him. During their work sessions, he’d dressed in a faded plaid shirt, wear-softened jeans and a battered straw cowboy hat. He’d insisted it had character. Clearly that outfit hadn’t come up to the standards of today’s dress code.
The yoked style of his shirt made his sturdy shoulders look even broader. The row of pearl snaps drew her attention to his impressive chest and directed her gaze down to slim hips encased lovingly in dark denim. The battered straw hat had been replaced with a midnight-black Stetson he’d pulled low over his eyes. She was totally unprepared for this version of Zeke Lassiter.
“I see your daddy!” Piper bounced in her seat.
“Me, too!” Tatum leaned forward. “Who’re the other ones?”
“That’s the Buckskin Brotherhood.” Claire said it as if announcing a rock band about to take the stage. “My uncles.”
