Cowboy Defender. Carla CassidyЧитать онлайн книгу.
Chapter 12
Miranda Silver was in a foul mood and desperately trying to hide it from her two children, who were running ahead of her on the sidewalk. Actually, she was exhausted and that always made her cranky.
Part of her exhaustion came from the fact that the high school students she taught English to had been particularly difficult and rowdy all day, as if in anticipation of the end of the school year that would occur in less than two weeks.
However, the real culprit behind her being beyond tired was her ex-husband, Hank. He had shown up at the house at one-thirty in the morning, drunk as a skunk and thinking that was the perfect time to fix the rickety front porch stairs of the house where he had once lived.
It was only when she had threatened to call Dillon Bowie, the Chief of Police of Bitterroot, Oklahoma, that Hank was finally convinced to go home. Thank goodness he hadn’t awakened the children, otherwise Miranda would have really been angry.
“Slow down,” she called to seven-year-old Jenny and eight-year-old Henry. Right now she wished she had half of their energy. She shifted her shopping bags from one hand to the other and tried not to worry about all the money she had just spent.
Last night she and the kids had gotten out all of their summer clothes and she’d been dismayed to discover nothing from the year before fit her kids now. So a shopping trip had been necessary and she’d spent way more than she intended. The price of new sneakers alone had nearly taken her breath away.
Of course, it would help if Hank would occasionally pay some child support, but at the moment he wasn’t working and she couldn’t depend on or expect any financial help from him. In truth, she’d never been able to depend on him for much of anything. He’d rarely kept a job during the last couple of years of their marriage and nothing had changed since their divorce a little over a year ago.
The two kids came to an abrupt halt at a storefront that sported frilly pink-and-white curtains at the window. “Mom, can we go in and get a treat?” Jenny asked, her big blue eyes sparkling with excitement.
Henry ran back, grabbed Miranda’s hand and looked up at her with a sweet appeal. “Come on, Mom, we’ve been really good all week. We did our homework and made our beds and everything. Please? Please?”
Unfortunately The Cupcake Palace was a little pricey. “Yes, you both have been very good all week, but I just spent a lot of money on your new summer clothes.” She hated to see the disappointed looks that settled on their little faces. Darn Hank anyway for never paying his child support.
“I’d love to treat a couple of cute kids and their mother to cupcakes and ice cream.” The smooth, deep voice came from behind Miranda and instantly she stiffened.
“For real, Mr. Clay?” Henry asked. He dropped his mother’s hand. “That would be totally awesome.”
“Yeah, awesome,” Jenny echoed.
Miranda turned to look at the cowboy who made almost all the female hearts in the small town beat faster.
Clay Madison was ridiculously handsome with his slightly shaggy blond hair and beautiful bright-blue eyes. His brown cowboy hat sat on his head at a cocky angle, and the smile that curved his lips not only showcased deep twin dimples but also seemed to light up the entire area around them.
“Evening, Miranda,” he said with a gentlemanly dip of his cowboy hat.
“Clay,” she replied with a curt nod of her head.
“Mommy, Mr. Clay said he’d treat us,” Henry said. “Did you hear him say that? That’s what he said.” Once again excitement lit Henry’s and Jenny’s features.
“And how do you know Mr. Clay?” she asked her son. Bitterroot, Oklahoma was a small town but there was no reason her eight-year-old son would know Clay Madison, who was a cowboy on the Holiday Ranch on the outskirts of town.
“He came and talked to our class last week about being a cowboy,” Henry replied. “I want to be a cowboy just like Mr. Clay when I grow up.”
She was surprised Clay hadn’t talked to the class about being a womanizer and a party boy. Rumor had it he did both things quite well.
“And I meant what I said. I’d love to treat you all.” He gestured toward the shop door.
“Mom, please?” Jenny begged.
When Miranda hesitated Clay leaned toward her, his eyes sparkling merrily. “It’s just a cupcake, Miranda,” he said beneath his breath.
“All right,” she capitulated, knowing to say no now would make her the meanest, most hateful mom in the entire world. Henry and Jenny jumped up and down in excitement. “Good manners,” she murmured to them as Clay opened the door and ushered them inside.
Myriad scents greeted them, all of them good. The smell of chocolate competed with a sweet fruity mix. Cinnamon and sugar added to the mouthwatering combination.
Pink-and-white ice cream parlor tables and chairs beckoned people to sit and enjoy. Miranda stifled an inward moan as she saw the older couple who occupied one of the tall tables. Wally Stern worked at the post office and his wife worked at being the town’s biggest gossip. Who knew what rumors would be whipping through the town about Clay and Miranda by morning?
Henry and Jenny danced up to the counter where cupcakes the size of small dinner plates were displayed. When you ordered one of the cupcakes you also got a healthy serving of ice cream on the side, making for a totally decadent dessert.
Mandy Booth greeted them with a big smile. The dark-haired woman was clad in jeans and a pink T-shirt advertising The Cupcake Palace.
“You don’t have enough to do with the café?” Miranda asked Mandy. Mandy had bought the town’s popular café several months ago and had opened The Cupcake Palace a month ago.
Mandy laughed. “The café is my bread and butter, but this place is my heart. I’d thought about opening some sort of fine dining place here in town, but Bitterroot isn’t really a fine dining kind of place, and Tammy’s Tea House already fills that need. Then I came up with this idea where I can bake to my heart’s content.”
“What does Brody think about you working all those hours?” Miranda asked. Mandy and Brody Booth had married two months before.
“Oh, trust me, I make plenty of time to keep my cowboy happy,” she replied with her dark eyes twinkling merrily. “Now, what can I get for you all?”
Throughout the brief conversation Miranda had been acutely aware of Clay’s presence. He stood so close to her that, despite the fragrance of the shop, she could smell sunshine and minty soap and a fresh-scented cologne that wafted from him.
“Hmm,” Henry murmured as he and Jenny stared at all the choices, as if this was the single most important decision they would ever make in their entire lives.
“I’d like one of those blue cupcakes,” Henry finally said. “Blue is my favorite color.”
“Ah, an excellent choice,” Mandy replied. “It’s a cream cheese cupcake with blueberry frosting.”
“And I’d like the pink one,” Jenny said.
“And I’ll bet pink is your favorite color,” Mandy said.
“I