Cowboy Lullaby (The Boones of Texas 6) - Page 24
“Da-gee?” Pearl repeated.
“Wanna go see the doggie?” he asked.
She clapped again. “Da-gee.”
“Okay, you win.” He carried her to his bed, assembling the necessary equipment for her diaper change. It was a work in progress. About a third of the time, the thing leaked. Other times, Pearl walked right out of them. But occasionally, he got it right. This nap time wasn’t one of those times. Her little dress was soaked through. “Sorry,” he said, laying her on the bed. “Don’t want to make them too tight.”
She lifted her legs up, her hands grabbing her toes, all the while blowing bubbles.
“Guess that means you forgive me?” he asked, tickling her tummy.
Pearl squealed, her carefree laughter easing the constant worry placed on his shoulders a week before. They were doing fine. Better than fine.
He changed her diaper, adjusting it twice for good measure. When she was dry and in clean clothes, Pearl started scooting to the edge of the bed.
“Where you going?” he asked, watching her hold on to the blanket and swing her feet—looking for the floor.
“Ba-ba-fllllp,” she announced, her feet touching the floor.
“You did it all right. Down,” he said. “You got down.”
She smiled up at him.
“You hungry?” he asked, heading toward the kitchen.
“Num-num-num,” she said. “Num.”
“We’ll find you some num-nums.” He smiled, washing his hands. “I just said num-nums, Pearl.” He shook his head. “Guess I’m getting the hang of this baby-talk thing.”
“Ga-bllp-la,” she responded.
He frowned, having no idea what she was trying to tell him. “Or not.”
Chapter Six
Tandy sat with the kids gathered round the campfire. They were red-eyed and worn out. That’s what fresh air did to city kids. One of the things she loved most about the country was watching kids act like kids. Fire Gorge didn’t get the best tower reception, so cell phone and television service was spotty at best. The kids normally recovered faster than the adults, chucking their phone for a dip in the pool or a trail ride. In time, parents were thrilled to see their kids playing in the dirt, climbing trees, running for no reason, skipping rocks and using their imagination.
But not all of them. There was always one parent—one family—that couldn’t unplug. And for them, Fire Gorge was a missed opportunity.
“We’re going to make some music,” Tandy said, her guitar in her lap. “Anyone here play an instrument?”
One hand popped up. “I play recorder.”
Tandy nodded. “Keep it up. Anyone else?”
Another hand rose. “I play violin.”
The kid next to him tugged his arm down. “No, you don’t. You don’t practice anyway.”
“The violin is a classic instrument. I know practicing isn’t always fun, but it’ll make you a better musician.” She strummed her guitar. “We’re going to go around the circle. I’ll give you each a sound to make. We’ll go around the circle, playing in order, and it will make a song.”
“How’s us making sounds going to make a song?” an older boy asked.
“Watch and see,” she said.
He sighed, loudly.
Scarlett passed out the instruments: some tambourines, rhythm sticks, hand bells and shakers. She picked the older boy to play the bongos and a preteen girl sitting in the shadows for the spoons.
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