Cowboy Lullaby (The Boones of Texas 6)

“So, you two are doing well?”

He glanced at her, bracing himself. “Yes.” If she could ask, so could he. “How are you doing?” She looked different from what he remembered. Not that he remembered her all that well. The few times they’d met, she’d been hanging off someone’s arm, smiling—and drunk. Now, she looked older, wary. And bone-tired.

Her light brown eyes—the same color as Pearl’s eyes—met his. “It’s been hard. It is hard.”

He nodded. Part of him wanted to rip off the Band-Aid and see what she wanted. The other part wanted to keep dancing around the subject to avoid answers he might not like. Tandy didn’t want him in her life anymore. He couldn’t lose Pearl, too.

“I didn’t mean to chase off your friend,” Georgia said, glancing back at the house. “Pearl seems to like her.”

He nodded again. Pearl adored Tandy. And Tandy loved his little girl. He blew out a deep breath, trying to ease the tension there. “She’s giving us privacy.”

Georgia sighed. “I’m at the hotel in town for a couple of nights, so we can sort things out.”

“Things?” Click asked, an undeniable edge to his voice.

She sighed again. “Pearl.”

Pearl turned around and toddled back to them. “Hi.”

Georgia smiled at her, dropping to her knees. “Hi to you, too.”

Pearl’s gaze traveled from Georgia to Click. She smiled then toddled back to Banshee, patted the dog and kept on walking. Georgia stayed where she was, watching her daughter with smudged eyes. “She seems happy.” Her voice was soft.

“I’ve been trying my hardest, Georgia. She’s pretty easy to please.” He watched Pearl stoop to pick up something in the dirt.

“You’ve done a good job,” she said. “Thank you.”

He didn’t want her thanks. He wanted to keep his daughter. He swallowed, nodding.

“I should probably go,” she said. “I don’t know my way around, and it’s getting late.”

“Come out for lunch tomorrow?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. “Sounds like a plan.” She stopped. “Guess I’ll head back.

Bye-bye, Pearl.”

Pearl looked back, her little chin quivering. She shook her head, those black curls bouncing. She ran to him, her little hands reaching for him. “Dada...”

He knelt, holding her tightly to his chest. “I got you, Pearl. No bye-bye.”

She nodded, burying her face against his shirt.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Georgia’s voice wobbled.

She was hurting. What the hell was he supposed to do? He felt for the woman, he did. But his loyalties lay with his daughter. “We’ll walk you back,” he said, scooping Pearl up. “Come on, Banshee.”

“You miss the circuit?” she asked as they walked. “Your life before midnight feedings and dirty diapers?”

He didn’t have to think about his answer. “No.”

“Wish they made more men like you, Click.” She shook her head. “You almost restore a gal’s hope in the opposite sex.”

It took all of his self-control to point out that bars might not be the best place for relationship material. But it wasn’t his place. She was trying to get her life together. That was a good place to start. They walked on, the house growing larger. Tandy had turned on the kitchen and parlor lights, making the windows glow with invitation. And she was inside—waiting to talk to him.

Home. This was home. He ran a hand over Pearl’s back.

“So you’re happy?” She paused, looking at him. “You look good. Damn good.”