A Cowgirl's Secret - By Laura Marie Altom Page 0,13
when I mentioned all of our relatives lived too far away for us to see, well…”
While she took more really deep breaths, Kolt asked, “You want us to live with them, right? Are we poor or is this supposed to teach me something?”
Standing, she pitched the pig back in his home. “We’re not poor and yes, being around people who love you will no doubt prove very educational.”
Hating his mom so much he didn’t even want to see her, he asked, “How can they love me when they don’t even know me?”
“Sometimes…” Her hug smooshed his forehead into her boobs. Why wouldn’t she stop and just leave him alone? “When people are family, they love you unconditionally. That’s how it’s going to be for you. In our new house, you’ll have your grandmother and uncles and aunts and there’ll be cousins for you to play with.”
His friend Lincoln had cousins and they were cool. Every Christmas they stayed with him for like two whole weeks. “Boy or girl cousins?”
“Girls, but—”
“I hate girls!” Just wanting to be by himself, Kolt ran to the living room, unhooking the safety bar on the sliding glass door that led to the balcony.
Planted in big pots were little trees.
Kolt hid behind his favorite, not caring that he was probably sitting in pigeon poop.
He’d been so excited to come home from camp, but now he wished he could have just stayed there. At least then he wouldn’t have had to move. And he wouldn’t have to see his stupid mom who was making him move. Or his stupid dad who was the stupid reason his stupid mom was making them move.
“DAISY. YOU’RE AH, the last person I expected to hear from.” Luke was standing outside a gas station, filling his truck, on the return leg of a job he’d done in Montana. He hadn’t heard from Daisy since their airport goodbye. Truthfully, she and Kolt had been on his mind ever since. “Still moving to my neck of the woods?”
“Planning on it, but the transition is going rougher than I’d like.”
“Anything I can do to help?” He topped off his tank, then fitted the pump nozzle back on its stand. The heat was intense, shimmering above the blacktop.
“I wish. I’m having a tough time with Kolt. He doesn’t want me to go, and I’ve tried explaining this is for the best, but he just doesn’t understand.” Sighing, she added, “Sorry to trouble you with this, but I figure since we’re now in this parenting thing together… Well, I’m not sure why I called. Guess I wanted to hear someone tell me I’m doing the right thing.”
Leaning against his truck, Luke crossed his legs at the ankles. Stomach knotted, he searched for words appropriate for polite company. “As much as I look forward to my son living closer, you called the wrong person. Truth is, I’m scared for the little guy. You’re being too hasty. Not that I know any right or wrong way to handle a kid of his age, but something about this doesn’t feel right. You need to slow down.”
“Of all people, I thought you would understand. I thought you would want him—us—back in Weed Gulch. Sorry I called.”
Out on the highway a trio of eighteen-wheelers rushed by. The exhaust stung Luke’s nose. “Don’t be like that. You asked my opinion and I gave it.”
“No, Luke, what I asked for was compassion and you gave me criticism.”
“It’s crap like this that keeps me single.” Groaning, he shook his head.
Her sharp laugh bit his ear. “Now not only am I ridiculous for wanting to spend time with my family, but I’m putting moves on you?”
“You know damn well that’s not what I meant.”
“Whatever. I’ve got to go.”
“Daisy, wait—” She’d already hung up.
Luke kicked his tire. The woman was maddening. He hadn’t seen her in a decade, yet a few hours spent together and already she was back under his skin. Or, hell, maybe she’d never left.
“WHY ARE YOU CRYING, MOM? Especially since moving was what you wanted to do?”
Two weeks after having decided to move, on the verge of introducing her son to everyone she held dear, Daisy swiped at tears she’d hoped ten-year-old Kolt hadn’t noticed. Forcing a smile, she ruffled his baby-fine dark hair. “Just allergies, sweetie.”
“Uh-huh.” Usually, she was proud of her smarty-pants son, but this was one time when she wished he wasn’t quite so observant.
“Whoa.” Though moments earlier his crossed arms had read angry and defensive, he now leaned forward