Sweet Talking Cowboy (21 page)

Briann nodded.  “That’s fine, and since this will be new to
Tris, you’ll be welcome to stay for supper and tuck her in for the night if
you’d like.  I’ll make sure you have some time together, just the two of you,
once she’s comfortable with the news.”

He didn’t answer, but turned and exited through the back
door and soon Briann heard his truck headed out the lane, toward the highway.

Unaccountably, her eyes were drawn to the engagement ring
he’d left laying in the middle of the table.  It truly was the most beautiful
ring she could imagine and her finger felt naked without it.  She picked it up;
its weight resting in the palm of her hand seemed to radiate warmth. 
Hesitantly, she slipped it into the pocket of her jeans to be returned to him
later.

With him gone, she briefed Aunt Poog about the arrangement
she and Slade had worked out.

Poog shook her head from side to side.  “I’m sorry for you
that this is not what you wanted, but for Tris learning who her father is and
getting to know him, I’m not sorry.”  She wrapped her arms around Briann and
hugged her close.  “I love you.  You’re the child I never had and I will do
everything I can to help with the situation.  I know it’ll be uncomfortable for
you, and probably for Slade too, but he’s a good man, Briann and deserves to
share and to know his child.”

Briann savored the feel of her aunt’s strong arms and just
relaxed for a minute, then stepped back bringing an end to the comforting hug. 
“I don’t think this will become a ‘happily ever after,’ thing but we’ll do the
best we can, I suppose.”

Poog nodded.  “It’s almost time to go get our girl.”

“I know,” Briann acknowledged, glancing at the clock.  “I’ll
go.  I told her when I dropped her off Friday that I’d pick her up today.  I
don’t know what time Slade will be back, but I told him he was welcome to have
supper with us and to stay for as long as he wanted.  Would you like me to get
a pizza or something?  This is short notice for a meal to be prepared.”

Poog laughed.  “Are you kidding?  Supper is cooked except for
frying the chicken and it’s ready to go in the frying pan, when the time
comes.  All I need is a few minutes to warm things up.  I wasn’t sure how
things would be when y’all came home, but I knew y’all would be home for
supper.”

When Briann returned with Tristin a little later, after the
final play rehearsal, Slade’s truck was parked near the back of the house.

“Aunt Poog has company,” Tristin observed, spotting Slade’s
truck just about the same time Briann did.

Briann nodded, feeling a knot tightening in her stomach. 
“Yes, she has.  Remember when we talked while I was at the show and I told you
I had something important to talk to you about when I got home?”

Tristin nodded her head, her ebony hair flashing with near
black highlights.  “What is it?”

Briann forced a smile.  “You just have to wait until we get
inside.”

She put the truck in park and turned the engine off. 
Tristin had already unbuckled her seatbelt and was pushing her door open. 
“Well, come on!”  She challenged her mother as she snatched up her backpack and
slid off the seat to the ground.  “I’ll beat you!”  Her sturdy legs carried her
swiftly to the back door where Speck intercepted her and she was jerking the
door open when Briann joined her, both of them laughing with shared joy.

When she spotted Slade sitting at the kitchen table across
from Aunt Poog, she hesitated, the laughter gone now, but Briann placed her
hand on Tristin’s shoulders and encouraged her to step on into the room.

Briann squatted down beside the child and directed her attention
to Slade who was sitting quietly, letting her take the lead.  Speck walked over
and pushed his nose beneath the man’s big hand, hoping for an ear rub.

“You remember Mr. Butler, don’t you?”  Briann’s voice was
carefully controlled.

Tristin nodded.  “Yes.  He thought I looked like an Indian.”

Slade smiled at the child.

“Mr. Butler and I have known each other a long time,” Briann
began slowly.  “I was about your age when I first met him.  We’ve been
neighbors as long as I can remember.  Slade lives on the farm with the long
driveway and the black fences.  You know the place I’m talking about?”  Briann
was obviously struggling to find words to help Tristin understand.

Again the child nodded.  “The place where the fence goes
across the creek after it leaves our field?”

It was her mother’s turn to nod.  “Well, I…We…sugar, your
father, Evan, wasn’t really your father.  Slade….Mr. Butler is.”  Now that
she’d said it, she hurried on to explain, wanting Tris to understand.  “Evan
was your step-father, but Slade is your real father.  I know this is a huge
surprise for you, but it’s important for you to know the truth.  Do you
understand?”

Tristin hesitated, and then shrugged, her brown eyes
studying the man before her.  “I dunno.  What’s a….step-father?”

Slade continued to smile as he spoke.  “He’s a man who takes
care of you and loves you, when your real father isn’t around to do it.”

Tristin nodded.  “Why weren’t you around to do it?”

“Your mom was livin’ in Atlanta, and I was livin’ here, or
in Texas.  I didn’t know about you,” he explained gently.  “Your mom and I had
lost touch.”

“Were you married to my mom?”

Slowly he shook his head negatively.  “No, why?”

Tris shrugged her small shoulders and looked at Briann, then
back at him.  “I thought that’s how someone got to be a kid’s dad, or mom.”

Briann lifted a hand and stroked her daughter’s head
tenderly.  “Most of the time, it works like that, but not always.  Sometimes
moms and dads aren’t married.  That’s the way it is with us, but it doesn’t
mean it’s not real.  And now that you and I are going to be living here, Slade
will be spending a lot of time with you.  He’s very excited to be your dad.”

“Are y’all gettin’ married?”  Tristin queried.  “Is he gonna
live with us?”

Briann shook her head negatively.  “No.  You and I are going
to keep living here with Aunt Poog and Slade is going to keep living at the
farm where he lives now, but when he wants to or when you want him to, he can
spend the night here, in the room right across the hall from your room.  He
wants to be with you as often as he can be.”

Tristin looked from one of them to the other again, and then
shrugged, one side of her mouth and her little nose raised slightly in a
grimace.  “Then it would be easier if he just lived here, wouldn’t it?”

Briann struggled to keep her brows from knitting into a
frown.  “No.  It’ll be better this way.  I know it’s hard for you to
understand, but you just have to trust that adults know best.”

Tristin shrugged again, her eyes locking onto Slade’s.  “Do
you want me to call you Dad, or should I call you Mr. Butler?”

His smile deepened.  “Which would you like to call me?”

“I dunno.”  Her honesty was obvious.

“Well,” he said softly.  “When you have time to think about
it, and feel like it, I’d love for you to call me Dad, or even Daddy, but until
then, why don’t you just call me Slade.  Once we get to know each other, you
can decide what you want to call me, and it’ll be just fine.”  He knew he
wanted nothing more than to hear her call him Daddy, but thought it might make
her uncomfortable to start with.

She looked at him, her blue eyes flashing with amber
highlights, like Briann’s often did.  “Okay, Slade.”  She paused and grinned. 
“I’ve never been allowed to call an adult just by their first name.”  It made
her feel very grown up to be given permission to do that.

Briann stood up, and then pulled out a chair for Tristin. 
“Why don’t you sit here and visit with your father, while Aunt Poog and I get
supper ready?  Maybe he can help you with your homework.”

The child hopped up in the chair and hefted her backpack
onto the table.  “Do you know how to do homework?”

Slade cast Briann’s retreating back a quick glance, but
looked back at his daughter.  “If it isn’t real hard, maybe I do.”

Tristin giggled.  “It can be pretty hard.  I’m learning my
con..ten..in..ants.”

Slade frowned.  “Continents?  Like Africa, Australia and the
Americas?”  He was thinking how much curriculum had changed since he went to
school.

Tristin giggled again, wondering how smart this new father
really was.  “No, like B, C, and D.  Con..ten..in..ants, not vowels.”

Slade chuckled.  “I’ve got a lot to learn, don’t I?”

The small girl nodded.  “So do I.  We’ll just learn
together.  Okay?”

He agreed his heart swelling with pride.  A feeling he’d
never experienced before began deep inside him and he could feel it sweeping
through his soul.  This child was his daughter!  His life would never be the
same again, and he was almost bursting with excitement and adoration.

Glancing through the door as she walked past, Briann was not
prepared for the sudden surge of emotion that swept through her as she saw the
two ebony heads bent over a piece of paper on the table.  Their heads were
close together as they concentrated on the slow, careful marks the child was
making, Slade totally absorbed in his daughter.  Briann’s feet stopped and she
just stood watching, her heart racing, her feelings wild and confused, the dish
she planned to serve sliced tomatoes and cucumbers from, forgotten in her
hands.  She suddenly saw the rightness of them.  Slade and Tris belonged
together!  It should have always been like that.  Her heart slammed against her
ribs in excitement and fear.  She was going to see them together like this for
the rest of her life.  And then she knew it was what she wanted, except she
needed to be part of it.  Wanted to be part of it more than anything.

Poog smiled, but then forced a straight face as she took the
dish from Briann.  “Maybe you’d like to join them?”

Briann didn’t answer and as Poog stepped away, Slade looked
up from the paper Tris was writing on, his eyes finding Briann’s.  The pride
and joy in his smile sparked unwanted warmth in Briann’s heart and she turned
quickly away.

Slade wondered at the sudden panic he’d recognized in her
eyes, but Tristin asked him a question and he put that glimpse on a shelf in
the back of his mind.  It was something he would take out later and examine more
closely, when he was alone and there were no distractions.  It was something
important and he needed to decide what it might mean.  His attention returned
fully to his daughter and the advice she was requesting about the letters she
had been working on so laboriously.

“F is a fun letter to make,” Tristin confided, “but my
favorite is the capital B.”

Slade smiled.  “That’s good.  Capital B is the first letter
in Butler.”

Tristin’s face lit up.  “And that’s your last name!”

He nodded.  “Maybe it could be your last name too, since I’m
your daddy.  Maybe we should talk to your mom about that.  Would you like to be
Tristin Butler?”

She shrugged.  “I dunno.  My last name’s always been De
Angelo, like my mom’s last name is.  I don’t know if she’d want me to stop
being Tristin De Angelo anymore.”

Slade’s big hand gently stroked the back of her head.  “It’s
not something we have to worry about right now.  I’m still your dad, no matter
what your last name is.”  He was so filled with sentiment at that moment, he
was almost bursting.

Poog appeared at the table and began to set plates around. 
“Y’all can move into the living room if you’d like.  I’m going to start frying
chicken and supper will be ready in about thirty-five minutes.”

Tristin looked up at her.  “Can we go up to the study room? 
It’s nice and quiet there.”

Briann had arrived to place glasses on the table just in
time to hear that request.  She nodded.

“Sure.  I’ll let you know when supper is ready.”  She
watched, unable to resist smiling as the big man and the small girl scrambled
to repack her backpack.  As Tristin carefully fastened it closed, Briann felt
Slade looking at her.  She didn’t want to look at him, but did, in spite of
herself.  Along with the look of delight in his child was the desire for the
mother and it was evident as he smiled, his eyes settling on her lips.  Briann
felt the familiar curl of yearning stirring within her own body so she quickly
looked away.  This was not going to be easy!

When supper was ready, Poog sent her up to get Slade and
Tristin.  Briann’s pulse was already accelerated as she approached the open
door of the study.  Slade was comfortably seated in Uncle Mike’s big chair,
Tristin astride one arm of the chair, her attention directed on a big scrapbook
that was open in his lap.  Briann’s face burned as she realized it was a
scrapbook she had done, to protect the pictures and memories of her pregnancy and
Tristin’s first year.

“Time to wash your hands,” she managed to say as she crossed
the room.  As if she were simply lending a hand, she reached for the
scrapbook.  “I’ll put that up.  Tris, show your dad the where the bathroom is
in the spare room, then you can go wash your hands in my bathroom.”

Tristin hopped off the arm of the chair and slipped, causing
Briann to bend quickly to grab her arm to keep her from falling.  Slade had
reacted just as quickly and they discovered their hands almost entwined on the
small arm.  Tris giggled as she recovered her balance.  “Woops!”  Then as if
she felt the sudden electricity in the air she looked from one to the other. 
“Thanks,” she said shyly.

“It’s alright,” Slade assured her, his eyes holding
Briann’s, his hand still covering hers on the child’s arm.  Reluctantly he
released his grip and stood up, that action putting him much too close to
Briann for either of them to be comfortable.  Still holding Briann’s eyes, he
took her arm.  “Tris, why don’t you go ahead and wash your hands,” he
suggested.  “I want to talk to your mom for a minute.”

“Sure,” Tristin scooted from the room.