Claire hadn’t forgotten that. It seemed being bought meant getting married. Getting a mommy.
I wanted to marry Sarah. I always had. But clearly there was some shit we had to work through.
Thatcher’s heavy footsteps came right before the slap of the back screen door. He lived in the converted old barn and came up to the main house often, usually for Alice’s cooking. “Hey, Sprout! I came to say good night before I went to work.” He moved behind the couch, grabbed Claire under her arms, and tossed her in the air. He owned a bar in town, the Lucky Spur. Since it was Saturday night, it would be busy and he’d work until well after closing.
She laughed and giggled as he carried her to the big armchair and settled in with her on his lap. “Whatcha doin’?” he asked.
“Daddy’s working on getting me a mommy.”
The book was clearly forgotten.
Thatcher’s red brow went up, and he looked over at me. “Is that so? Who’s the lucky lady?”
I wanted to give him the middle finger but not in front of Claire.
She shrugged her tiny shoulders. “Don’t know. Earlier he told Miss Kelsey and Seesaw he was working on it.”
Alice always said little teapots had big handles, and while the saying was ridiculous, Claire heard everything and filed it away. It was tricky now, but when she was a teenager, I knew I was going to be in big trouble.
“Well, I have a feeling Miss Kelsey’s around to stay,” he told Claire. I had to agree with him. Sawyer was keeping her. “She loved the puppies earlier, remember?”
Her eyes lit up with childish glee. “She did!” Her face morphed into a frown. “But Miss Kelsey’s not going to be my mommy. Who’s going to be my mommy?”
I gave Claire the look. I was not going to tell a five-year-old my plans, not only because she couldn’t keep a secret, but because I didn’t want her to get too eager for something that might not happen. I hadn’t brought any women around the ranch on purpose.
“He’s keeping her a secret, I think,” Thatcher said, tickling Claire. “I’d say she’s got him all tied up.” He smirked and I glared at his joke.
“That’s silly.” She giggled. “Daddy doesn’t need to tie anyone up. He’s got handcuffs since he’s the chief!”
I could feel my cheeks heat. Fuck me, I wasn’t going to live the night before down.
Thatcher’s lips were twitching as he tried not to laugh.
I’d gotten free of my bed by rolling onto my stomach, gripping the slat, and pulling it loose. I had a sore shoulder and a headboard that looked a mess as a result. After, I’d gone downstairs to get a drink and ran into Thatcher, who’d been raiding the fridge. He’d seen Sarah leave, and I’d had to tell him the fucking mess. After Sawyer being kneed in the nuts and me getting handcuffed to my own bed, I had to wonder if we had to hand over our man cards.
Thatcher had only stopped laughing when I’d punched him in the arm and showed him the paper Sarah had left with me. He knew who Claire’s mother was. Knew I wasn’t her biological parent.
“Will you tuck me in, Uncle Thatch?” Fortunately Claire’s attention was quickly swayed.
He gave her a bounce on his knee. “Sure. Go up and brush your teeth, and I’ll be up.”
She popped off his lap and stood before him in her pink pajamas, cocked her head, and set her hands on her hips. “I already brushed.”
He leaned in and grinned at her. Bopped her on the nose. “Good girl. I’m going to count, and let’s see how fast you can get in bed and under those covers.”
She turned and faced the stairs, put one foot in front of the other as if she were ready to start a race, her arms bent. “Ready.”
“Go! One, two, three…”
She bolted out of the room, and we could hear her feet pattering along the wood floor.
Thatcher turned my way, his counting stopped. “Did you decide what you’re going to do about Sarah?”
I hadn’t. I’d spent the entire day debating. “I want to toss her over my knee and spank her ass red for pulling shit like that, but it wasn’t a stunt.”
“To buy you at the auction to get you into bed so she could leave you like that? She was pissed.”
“A total understatement,” I grumbled.
“How’d she even find out?” he wondered.
“Kale’s accident yesterday.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Seriously? I heard he ran off the road because of a fucking cow?”
“Yup.”
He shook his head and laughed.
“I called Graham, who was on duty.” Thatcher knew what had happened the night before, but he hadn’t heard what I’d figured out earlier. “He confirmed it was Sarah who took the call and towed Kale’s truck away from the scene. She must’ve found his paperwork. Kale’s the one who got the letter.”
Thatcher grabbed a paperweight off the side table and tossed it back and forth between his hands. “I didn’t know Sarah was working for her father.”
“Last I heard, she was doing his books.” It was a small town, and I was the police chief. “Has been ever since she was a kid and got smarter than her old man in math.”
“That’s probably not hard to do,” he said, setting the paperweight down. He stood and ran a hand over his hair. “He’s in the bar often. Pays his tab, but it’s always pretty hefty.”
I didn’t like Bill O’Banyon. He was a total asshole. He didn’t like me either, and I knew he thought I was an asshole. He’d made that very clear. I was a punk. A little shit who shouldn’t even be looking at Sarah, let alone dating her.
While I respected the fact that he protected his daughter, he also didn’t see her for who she was. He hadn’t thought I was good enough for her, that only a
