“You haven’t. You didn’t. You aren’t.” He broached the topic that had kept this conversation awkward. “I don’t blame you for getting mad. I’m sorry if you thought I ran out on you.” He nodded at her stomach. “You feeling any better now?”
“Some,” she said.
“Have you told your mother yet?”
She laid a hand on her stomach. “No. I should, I know, but...”
“I’ll go with you if that would help.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught. Had he just offered his support? “She’s not your biggest fan.”
“Neither are you lately,” he pointed out. “That doesn’t mean we can’t handle this.”
What was he saying? As if they were talking about bull riding, not her pregnancy, she imagined his strong hand on the rope, his muscles straining for control of the huge animal. In spite of the angry words they’d exchanged, the hurt he must have felt, the resentment she’d nursed when he abruptly left town again, he was a decent man. He’d come back, hadn’t he? Her anger was hard to maintain, especially when he said, “You’re not on your own here, Lizzie.”
Dallas seemed about to say more when Seth burst through the back door, then floated down the steps. “I brought all my books. You can choose which one to read first.”
“Looks like a long afternoon,” Dallas said, daring to brush her cheek with the back of his hand. He looked into her eyes. “Reading, mowing...and maybe we can talk later. You and me. Could all that earn this sorry excuse for a guy dinner?”
She supposed that was his way—charming at that, even dear—to apologize. Elizabeth held up a hand. Her little boy had charged up to them, books flying everywhere. “Seth, slow down.” But she was also addressing Dallas, who wasn’t any kind of poor excuse for a man. He just couldn’t be the one for her, long-term. Could he?
As Seth sat cross-legged in the grass under the big oak tree and fanned the books like a deck of cards for Dallas’s inspection, he and Elizabeth stared at each other over her son’s head for a long moment before she said, “Yes, you can stay for dinner.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DALLAS HAD SPENT that evening and most nights of the following week at Lizzie’s house. That first dinner had broken the ice between them, for which he felt more than grateful. Tonight, they’d cooked hamburgers and hot dogs on her grill, then eaten at the picnic table in her backyard to the songs of crickets and a few late-summer cicadas. The evening hadn’t cooled much from the day’s earlier heat, but as the stars and mosquitoes began to come out, they moved inside. All five of them.
In the living room Dallas discussed rodeo with Jordan, who seemed beside himself about tomorrow’s big event, and Dallas tried to talk Lizzie into letting the boy ride. Well, almost. She was still “reserving judgment” before she’d make her final decision. He hoped it would be the one Jordan wanted. Dallas understood her concern for his safety but thought she was needlessly prolonging Jordan’s begging.
When he set up the video for him to watch again, Lizzie merely rolled her eyes as if she was about to give up on her son and Dallas.
Her youngest (not really the youngest now, he realized) lay in Dallas’s lap, which seemed to have become his favorite spot. Dallas could get used to this warm feeling of being part of a family, especially when Hadley was barely talking to him since he’d let Dallas know about Lizzie’s pregnancy. Wearing a smile that wouldn’t go away, Dallas read a few more books to Seth, whose eyelids had started to droop. Lizzie and Stella sat on the sofa, perusing an issue of a children’s magazine, their heads close together. Stella refused to look at him. “Seth would hear about Janie Wants to Be a Cowgirl all night,” Lizzie said. “Believe me, I know. That book has been handed down, it seems, by every kid in Barren.”
“Read again,” Seth said in a sleepy tone, making her and Dallas laugh.
Minutes later, with his head on Dallas’s shoulder, he began to snore lightly, clutching the spotted horse model Dallas had bought him in Serenity. Dallas glanced at Lizzie. “I think he’s out cold.” He’d given Jordan a video of the kids’ rodeo there. Stella still hadn’t looked at the pretty patterned scarf he’d bought her with cowgirl boots on it.
“It’s past Seth’s bedtime. Everyone’s bedtime,” Lizzie said, reminding Dallas of the night the kids had come home from Colorado. Before he knew exactly how connected he was to her family.
He cradled Seth close, then carried him upstairs with Lizzie and Stella behind. He could feel Stella’s glare boring through his back. He sighed.
“Jordan,” Lizzie called down the steps. “Turn off that TV. You need to come up to bed. Now.”
Grumbling, Jordan obeyed, but in the upstairs hall he grinned when Dallas gave him a fist bump and said, “Every good cowboy knows that rest is a requirement.” A slight exaggeration, yet it seemed to work. Jordan was in bed before Stella. Finally, everyone was settled, and Dallas stood in the hall. Lizzie joined him after helping Seth say his prayers.
“Every cowboy?” she asked with a pointed look.
“Well, not all,” he said, then slipped an arm around her shoulders. Maybe she’d forgiven him for his trip to Serenity, if not his first reaction to her pregnancy. They needed to talk. Too bad he still didn’t know what to say.
Together, they went downstairs. “Thanks for helping me put them to bed,” she said.
“No problem.” Dallas reached for her hand. They’d been dancing around each other all evening. If she thought he was going home now, she was wrong about that. “Didn’t do bad for my first time.” He drew her to the sofa and sat beside her, their fingers still clasped. “Maybe there’s hope for me yet.”
“Hope for what?”
“Something more,” he ventured. He held her gaze, his eyes serious. This wasn’t just about whatever relationship they could have, not about this pleasant
