Wyatt: Return of the Cowboy Read Free

doubt about it.
    Checking the rearview mirror—for the umpteenth time in the last five minutes—she let out a sigh. The fire-engine-red Dodge pickup remained glued to her bumper.
    Nice truck, she mused. He’d won it last year at the National Finals Rodeo in Vegas when he took the World Championship in bareback bronc riding. Paige knew this because Arlene kept a scrapbook on her younger son’s career, which she hid in a nook behind the mountain of paper products stored in the closet.
    Arlene sometimes shared the scrapbook with Paige. She didn’t with her husband. Ted would only get mad, tell her she was wasting her time.
    Poor Wyatt. Paige hadn’t blamed him for leaving. She’d have left, too, under the same circumstances—would be gone now if Wyatt kept his promise and sent for her.
    Only he hadn’t.
    “Mom. Mom!”
    “Yeah, sweetie, what is it?” How long had Seth been calling her name?
    “I need some poster board for my science project.”
    “Okay. I’ll run to the drugstore after supper.”
    “Why can’t we go now?”
    Seth liked stopping at the drugstore, where he’d pester her for an ice cream bar—and usually get one.
    “Because Mr. Malone is coming home with us.” Another quick glance in the mirror, another sigh. At this distance, Paige couldn’t make out Wyatt’s face, but she recalled every detail from their unexpected meeting in the saloon.
    The same startling eyes, not quite blue and not quite gray. Same strong chin, same rugged profile. The same unruly brown hair that looked in need of a cut even when he walked out of the barbershop.
    Same wide-shouldered, narrow-hipped build that caused many a woman’s gaze to linger.
    The only noticeable difference in Wyatt’s appearance had been his swagger, or lack of it. His trademark walk was now stilted and slower. The result of his fall or something else? Paige wondered.
    “Mom! I asked you a question.”
    “Sorry, sweetie. I wasn’t listening.”
    He pouted, his arms folded defensively across his middle. “Why does he have to come home with us?”
    “Mr. Malone is an old friend of mine. We grew up together. Went to school together.”
    And had their lives changed in a single instant when his brother Jay drove the car in which they were all riding off the road and into a tree.
    “Was he your boyfriend?” Seth asked petulantly.
    “Nope. Just pals.”
    Paige had wanted more but was too afraid to let Wyatt know her true feelings, worried it would ruin what they had. And in those days, she needed a friend far more than a boyfriend.
    “Tell me about the science project,” she prompted, hoping to distract Seth from the topic of Wyatt.
    Her plan succeeded. Seth chattered enthusiastically the remainder of the drive home.
    Activating the automatic garage door opener, she pulled in beside bicycles, a lawn mower, boxed holiday decorations and an assortment of just plain junk. Wyatt parked in front of the house.
    “Am I okay here?” he called upon getting out of his truck.
    “Fine for now.”
    “Nice place.” He admired the outside of her modest three-bedroom home, then reached into the bed of the truck and removed a scuffed duffel bag.
    “It’s a fixer-upper. And, as you can see, I’m still fixing it up.” She hoped he didn’t notice the worn paint and missing roof shingles and instead noticed the young maple trees peeking above the snow and the colorful flower boxes she’d had built last spring.
    “It suits you. I like it.”
    Paige did, too. She’d bought the house right before Seth started preschool. On her own. With no help other than from the bank. Next to her son, owning a home was her greatest accomplishment.
    “Come on in.”
    They entered the house from the garage, wiping their boots on the mat first. In the kitchen, Seth flung his backpack onto the table and began unloading books and binders.
    “What’s to eat?” He slumped into a chair, his mood an about face from earlier.
    “How `bout a cheese crisp?”
    “Okay.” He