Brenda Minton - His Little Cowgirl

“I’ll be here when you get home.”

Would he? She didn’t know how to deal with that thought. Of him in her life, and in her daughter’s life.

She had learned to rely on God and the knowledge that He would get her through whatever came her way. If she closed her eyes, she could think of a long list of whatevers. At the top of the list was losing her dad; then came being a single mom, and then the pile of bills that were growing as large as Mount Rushmore. God could get her through those things.

Now she had to worry about Cody and what his staying would mean. Would he try to gain custody of Meg, or visitation? Would he stay only long enough to prove that he had rights?

How would it feel if he walked away? She tried to tell herself that she wouldn’t be hurt. This time it would be different because now the person who would be hurt was Meg.

Bailey wouldn’t let that happen.

Cody stood outside the barn and watched Bailey drive away, the old truck stirring up a cloud of dust as it sped down the rutted gravel drive. When he turned toward his RV, Jerry Cross was there. It had to happen sooner or later, that the father of the woman he’d gotten pregnant would want to take a piece out of his hide.

If someone ever hurt Meg that way, Cody would like to think he’d be there to do the same thing. It would help to start off on the right foot. “Hello, sir. I’m Cody Jacobs.” Father of your grandchild.

“Are you staying?” Jerry sat down in the lawn chair that Cody had unfolded and stuck under the awning of the RV.

“Planning on it.” Cody grabbed another chair out of the back of his truck and plopped it down next to Jerry’s.

“Think she’ll let you stay?”

“The way I see it, she doesn’t really have a choice.”

Jerry laughed at that, the sound low and rasping. Cody glanced sideways, noticing the tinge of gray in Jerry’s complexion. It couldn’t be easy for Bailey, having her dad this sick and handling things on her own. The condition of the farm pretty much said it all. The barn needed repairs, the fence was sagging and the feed room was running on empty.

“I like you, Cody, and I hope you’ll stick around. Let me give you some advice, though. Bailey isn’t a kid anymore. She isn’t going to be fooled. She’s strong and she’s independent. She takes care of this farm and she juggles the bills like a circus clown.” Jerry’s eyes misted over. “I worry that life is passing her by and she isn’t squeezing any joy out of it for herself.”

“I didn’t mean to do that to her.”

The older man shrugged shoulders that had once been broad. Cody couldn’t imagine being in his shoes, knowing that life wouldn’t last and that people he loved would be left behind.

“It wasn’t all you, son. I have more than a little to do with the weight on her shoulders.”

“Is there a way I can help?”

Jerry shook his head. “Nope. Others have offered. She’s determined to paddle this sinking ship to shore. She thinks she can plug the holes and make it sail again.”

“I’ve got money…”

Jerry’s gnarled hand went up. “Save your breath and save your money. She won’t take charity.”

“It isn’t charity. I’m the father of the little girl in that house.”

“Then I guess you’d really better tread lightly.”

Jerry stood, swaying lightly and balancing himself with the arm of the chair. Cody reached but withdrew his hand short of making contact. If it were him, would he want others reaching to hold him up, or would he want to be strong on his own? He thought that Jerry Cross wouldn’t want a hand unless it was asked for.

That made him a lot like his daughter.

“I’m going in to check on the young’un. Holler if you need anything,” Jerry said as he walked away.

The young’un. Cody sat in the chair and thought about the little girl. His daughter. For a long time he waited, thinking she might come out of the house. When she didn’t, he went to the barn.

Thirty minutes and two clean stalls later, a tiny voice called his name. Cody swiped his arm across his brow and peered over the top of the stall he had been cleaning. Meg stood on tiptoes peeking up at him. He hid a grin because she was still wearing her nightgown and yet she’d pulled on those pink cowboy boots she’d been wearing the previous day.

“I have kittens.” She chewed on gum and smiled.

“How many?”

“Four. Wanna see ’em?”

He wanted to see those kittens more than anything in the world. A myriad of emotions washed over him with that realization. He had never hugged his child. He hadn’t held her or comforted her. He hadn’t wiped away her tears when she cried. Five years he had missed out on loving this little girl with Bailey’s sweet face and his blue eyes.

“I do wanna see ’em.”

He opened the stall door and joined the little girl that barely reached his waist. Her hand came up, the gesture obvious. Cody’s heart leaped into his throat as his fingers closed around hers.

In that instant he knew he’d follow her anywhere. He’d give his life for her. And if anyone ever did to her what he’d done to her mother…

Regret twisted his stomach into knots. He couldn’t undo what he’d done to Bailey, but he could do something now. He could be a father. Or at least make his best attempt.

Doubt swirled with regret, making him wonder if he could. What if he couldn’t? What if he turned out to be his own father?

“The kittens are in there.” Meg pointed to a small corner of the barn where buckets and tools were stored. The area was dark and dusty, but a corner had been cleared out and straw put down for the new mother.

“How old are they?”

“One week. They don’t even have their eyes yet.”

Cody smiled and refrained from correcting her about the eyes. “I bet they love you.”

She shook her head. “Not yet, ’cause I can’t touch them or the momma kitten will hide them. She’s afraid they’ll get hurt.”

“Momma cats are like that.” He peeked into the corner and saw the mother cat and the four little ones.

“There’s a yellow tabby, a gray, one black cat and a calico. I like calico cats best.”

“I think I do, too.” Little fingers held tightly to his, and at the same time it felt like they were wrapping around his heart.

Meg led him from the area. “We can’t stay long or she’ll be mad.”

“We wouldn’t want to make the momma mad.”

“My mom is mad at you.”

Cody had never been fond of amusement-park rides. He could handle eight seconds on the back of a bull, but that up-and-down roller-coaster feeling was one he couldn’t hack. And this felt like a roller coaster.

“I’m sorry that she’s mad at me, Meg. Sometimes adults need time to work things out.”

He kneeled in front of his daughter. Her mouth worked her gum as she stared into his eyes. When she rested her hand on his cheek and nodded, his eyes burned and he had to blink away the film of moisture.

“I know you’re my daddy.” She nodded at that information. “My mom told me about your eyes when I was just a little kid.”

“Meg Cross, you’re about the sweetest girl in the world.” And he hoped he wouldn’t let her down.

As he was thinking of all the mistakes he could make, his daughter stepped close and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her head rested on his shoulder and he hugged her back.

He wouldn’t let her down. He wouldn’t let her grow up thinking that a dad was just the guy who sent the check each month. Whether he stayed in Gibson, or settled somewhere else, he would be a part of his daughter’s life.

The alarmed bark of Blue ripped into the moment. Cody hurried from the barn with Meg holding tightly to his hand. He scanned the yard, past his RV to the house. He saw the dog near the back porch and next to him on the ground was the still form of Jerry Cross.

Bailey didn’t feel like working. She felt like going home and being by herself. Not that she could be alone at home. And today would be worse because Cody would be there, wanting to talk.

Why in the world did he suddenly think they needed to talk things out? Had he been watching afternoon talk shows and learning about sharing feelings?

Or was it just a step in a program?

She sighed, knowing she wasn’t being fair and that God wanted her to give Cody a chance because grace was about being forgiven. She knew all about grace.

“Why do you look like someone messed with your oatmeal?” asked Lacey Gould, her black hair streaked with red, as she walked up behind Bailey, who was starting a fresh pot of coffee. The two of them had been unlikely friends for four years. They didn’t have secrets.

Lacey didn’t know who Meg’s dad was. That was something only God and Bailey’s dad knew. That was Bailey’s only secret from her friend.

“I don’t even like oatmeal.” Bailey poured herself a cup of coffee and reached for the salt shakers that needed to be refilled.

The Hash-It-Out had been busy nonstop for over an hour. Now the crowds had waned down to the regular group of farmers who gathered for mid-morning coffee and good-natured gossip.

Lacey grabbed the pepper shakers and started filling them.

“Rumor has it someone showed up yesterday driving a new truck and pulling an RV. And another rumor states that the truck and RV are still in town.”

“Rumor has it that the rumor mill in this town could grind enough wheat to feed a small country.”

“Cute. That doesn’t really make sense, but it is a little bit funny.” Lacey pulled ten dollars from her pocket and slid it across the counter top. “You had a four-top leave this the day before yesterday.”

Bailey knew better. She didn’t reach for the money. Lacey had a bad habit of trying to help by lying. She was a new Christian and her heart was as big as Texas, even if she didn’t always go about helping the right way.

“You keep it.”

“It’s yours.”

Bailey shook her head. “Good try, sweetie, but I didn’t have a four-top the other day.”

Lacey shoved the money into the front pocket of Bailey’s jeans. “Stop being a hero and let a friend help.”

The phone rang. Bailey glanced toward the hostess station and watched Jill answer. The older woman nodded and then shot a worried glance in Bailey’s direction, with her hand motioning for Bailey to join her.

“I’ll be right back.” Bailey touched Lacey’s arm as she walked toward the hostess.

“Honey, that was someone named Cody, and he said he’s taking your daddy to the hospital in Springfield.”

The floor fell out from under her. Lacey was suddenly there, her hand on Bailey’s. “Let me get someone to drive you.”

“I can drive myself.”

“No, you can’t.”

Bailey was already reaching for her purse. She managed a smile for the two women. “I can drive myself. Could you let Jolynn know that I had to leave?”

“Sure thing, sweetie, but are you sure you’re okay to drive yourself?”

Bailey nodded as she walked away from Jill’s question. At that moment she wasn’t sure about much of anything.

In a daze she walked out the door and across the parking lot, barely noticing the heat and just registering that someone shouted hello. Numb, she felt so numb, and so cold.

It took her a few tries to get the truck started. She pumped the gas, praying hard that the stupid thing wouldn’t let her down, not now. As the engine roared to life she whispered a quiet thank-you.

Springfield was a good thirty-minute drive, and of course she got behind every slow car on the road and always in a no-passing zone. Her heart raced and her hands were shaking. What if she didn’t make it on time? What if this was the end? She couldn’t think about losing her dad, not yet, not now when she needed him so much.