A Son for the Cowboy (The Boones of Texas 5)

“Anytime. Bring him over. Rowdy. Cody’s not that much older than him.”

Toben waved and set off for the truck. Even though it had been only three days, he missed Rowdy something fierce. He didn’t want to miss him anymore. He turned the truck and headed to the winding country road that would take him to his family.

Chapter Eleven

“The kids are wiped out,” Rose said, helping Poppy load the dishwasher. “Maybe we need to get a pool.”

“They do love the water.” But Poppy suspected it had more to do with the hours of play, their father’s involvement and the adventure they’d shared swimming up the river a ways. “You should come with us tomorrow, Rose.”

“In the river?” Rose shook her head. “I’ve never been outdoorsy like you, Poppy. You know that.”

“All you have to do is float. I have an inner tube. The kids will push you along.”

“Maybe,” Rose said.

“Mitchell wants some citronella candles.” Bob peered in the screen door.

Poppy pulled three of the large tin candles out from under the sink. “The lighter is in the drawer,” she said to Rose. “Can you get it for Bob?”

Bob retreated, carrying the candles and lighter back to the fire pit. The kids were gathered around, waiting for the s’mores supplies. Poppy grabbed a box of graham crackers, several chocolate bars and a bag of marshmallows.

“Isn’t it a little late for sugar?” Rose asked, following her outside.

“Yes. But it’s a treat.” Poppy put the supplies down and sat beside Rowdy on the large rocks that surrounded the fire pit. “A yummy, sticky, gooey treat.”

“Are we supposed to sing songs, too?” Bob asked.

“Do you want to sing?” Mitchell asked.

“No,” Otis said quickly. “Dad can’t sing.”

“Don’t let him,” Dot echoed.

“Ma can sing,” Rowdy piped up.

Poppy looked at her son. “No, I can’t, Rowdy.”

“Sure you can,” Rowdy pushed. “You used to sing to me every night. And you still do, when you’re in the shower or working out in the barn. I hear you.”

“Maybe I only do it then because I think no one can hear me.” She laughed, smoothing the curls from his forehead.

“I like it,” Rowdy said.

She wrapped her arm around him and tugged him close. “That’s because you love me.” She tickled his ribs until he was breathless. “How about we just stick with s’mores?”

Mitchell stripped the bark off several long branches, skewered some white fluffy marshmallows and distributed them to the kids. “Don’t let ’em catch fire—then they’ll be all charred.”

Poppy smiled at Mitchell, feeling calm now that he was here. He’d always done that, made her comfortable. Right now that was what she needed: comfort.

He arched an eyebrow at her and grinned.

“He’s a handsome man,” Rose whispered. “A girl could do much worse.”

Poppy nodded. There was no arguing the truth. Mitchell was a good man. Handsome to boot. But Mitchell didn’t set her on fire. He didn’t make her world tip, her insides melt and her lungs ache for air. His touch didn’t make every inch of her tighten and yearn. Only one man did that. She stared into the leaping flames, pushing the image of Toben Boone aside.

“Want one?” Rowdy asked, offering her a marshmallow.

Seconds later chocolate and marshmallow covered all three kids’ cheeks and chins.