Single-Dad Cowboy (The Buckskin Brotherhood Book 8) Read online

  Single-Dad Cowboy

  The Buckskin Brotherhood

  Vicki Lewis Thompson

  SINGLE-DAD COWBOY

  Copyright © 2021 by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  ISBN: 978-1-63803-988-4

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Ocean Dance Press, PO Box 69901, Oro Valley AZ 85737

  Visit the author’s website: VickiLewisThompson.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  But Wait, There’s More!

  Also by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  On this cool May evening, the logs crackling in the fire pit gave off enough heat to make jackets optional. Zeke Lassiter shrugged out of his and draped it over the arm of his Adirondack chair. Claire did the same. His daughter copied his every move these days, and setting a good example was at the top of his list.

  Her face glowed in the flickering light, her blue eyes sparkling with anticipation. The Brotherhood had gathered, all except Leo, who was visiting Fiona’s parents this week. Claire relished a fire pit evening more than a night at the movies. And she loved movies.

  She’d scoffed at the idea of a child-sized Adirondack. She didn’t care that her feet didn’t reach the ground. If these chairs were good enough for the Brotherhood—aka her beloved uncles—they were good enough for her.

  “Daddy, can my class stay for dinner tomorrow? We could light up the fire pit and—”

  “Sorry, sweetie.” Zeke hated denying her anything, but a daytime field trip with a bunch of eight-year-olds was disruptive enough. “We can’t—”

  “What a cool idea.” Nick gestured toward the flames with his cider bottle. “They could all make s’mores for dessert.”

  “Ever been on a field trip, Nicholas?” Rafe eyed him over the rim of his cider bottle.

  “Can’t say I have. Have you?”

  “One time, to a candle factory. I was about Claire’s age. What a circus. The teacher lost control and some kids got into all the things they weren’t supposed to.”

  CJ stopped strumming his guitar. “But not you, right?”

  “Are you kidding? Wax is fun to play with. And chew on.”

  “Miss O’Connor won’t lose control, Uncle Rafe. If a kid acts up, she’ll have a talk with them. She doesn’t stand for any nonsense.”

  Zeke chuckled. “I’ll vouch for that.”

  “She bring the hammer down on you, little brother?” Jake glanced his way, a gleam in his eye.

  “Not me. I’m on my best behavior when I’m in her classroom.”

  “Are you, now?” Jake gave him a smirk.

  “Absolutely. And FYI, she’s been warned to keep an eye on you.”

  “Fair enough.” Jake laughed. “I’ll be a good boy.”

  “Glad to hear it.” After living at the Buckskin for three months, Zeke took Jake’s teasing in stride and gave as good as he got. Jake didn’t tease unless he liked someone, and thank God, he’d come to like his half-brother.

  They’d had a rocky start, though. Jake hadn’t known he existed. On top of that, Zeke looked exactly like a younger version of their two-timing father. Fortunately, Jake had forgiven him the uncanny resemblance, and a shared dislike of dear old dad had created a bond that grew stronger every day.

  “I talked with the principal when we set up this field trip,” Matt said. “Harland thinks the world of Miss O’Connor. He might tag along tomorrow if everything’s quiet at the school.”

  Claire’s eyes widened. “You call Mr. Kuhn by his first name?”

  He smiled. “I do now because we’re friends. I called him Mr. Kuhn when I was in Apple Grove Elementary. To his face, anyway. I called him other things behind his back. I was rotten.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Ask him. I’m sure he remembers. I made an impression for all the wrong reasons.”

  “But you’re so nice, Uncle Matt!”

  “Because Henri and Charley turned me around. If they hadn’t taken me on, I’d have wound up in juvie.”

  “Juvie?”

  “The juvenile detention center in Great Falls.”

  “Wow. I’m giving Gramma Henri a big hug next time I see her.”

  “She’ll appreciate that.” Matt surveyed the men sitting in the semi-circle. “This is our first shot at a school field trip. If it goes well, Henri would like to make it a regular part of our program. I want this one to go like clockwork.”

  “How many kids?” Garrett unscrewed the top of his cider bottle. “I missed that—”

  “Twenty-three.” Claire bounced in her chair.

  “Plus Nell and two parents,” Zeke said. “Steve’s mom and Jocelyn’s mom.”

  “Three parents.” Claire pointed at him.

  “Oh, right.”

  Jake sent another teasing glance his way. “It’s Nell, is it?”

  “She asked me to call her that.”

  “I see.” Jake pursed his lips.

  “Don’t read anything into it. We spent a lot of time on the greenhouse for the class project. Calling each other Miss O’Conner and Mr. Lassiter sounded stupid after hours of bolting two-by-sixes.”

  “Sounds like sweaty work.” CJ plucked the strings of his guitar and hummed Let Me Call You Sweetheart.

  Rafe grinned. “Nothing like shared physical labor to start things off.”

  “Listen, there’s nothing—”

  “We’re getting off track.” Matt tilted his head in Claire’s direction in a subtle signal.

  Zeke could have told him Claire was a master at reading subtle signals.

  Sure enough, she spoke right up. “Don’t worry about talking in front of me, Uncle Matt. I’ve been thinking the same thing about Miss O’Connor and Daddy. They make each other laugh. But he said he’s not interested.”

  Zeke winced as everyone’s attention swung to him. Leave it to his daughter. She was an open book, which he loved about her, but….

  “Not interested?” Garrett glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “You talk about her all the time.”

  “Because of the greenhouse.” That was his excuse and he was sticking to it. “Neither one of us knew anything about growing veggies, and we wanted it to be a success story for the kids.”

  “And it is.” Claire bounced some more, making the chair squeak. “We’ve got lettuce and carrots and tomatoes and zucchini. So much zucchini.”

  �
�And Garrett’s zucchini bread is the best ever,” Nick said. “I ate a whole—”

  “We know, Nicholas.” Rafe rolled his eyes. Then he turned back to Zeke. “You and Nell have gardening in common and you make each other laugh. Claire likes her. What’s stopping you?”

  Fear. But he wasn’t admitting that with his daughter sitting there absorbing every word. “It’s not the right time. We just moved here and I’m still learning the ropes.”

  Rafe gave him a that’s BS look.

  “Besides, it’s inappropriate. She’s Claire’s teacher. I don’t think—”

  “I wouldn’t care, Daddy. You look so happy when she’s around. You like her. I know you do.”

  “Well, sure. She’s a nice person.” What a colorless way to describe Nell, the most natural, vibrant woman he’d ever met. Her enthusiasm for life drew him like a moth to a flame. But he’d been burned before and wore the scars to prove it.

  He glanced at Matt, a port in a storm. “We’re getting close to Claire’s bedtime. We should probably finish the planning while she’s here to give us info on the kids. I know most of them, but she’s the expert on the best way to divide them into groups.”

  Claire dug in her jeans pocket. “Miss O’Connor and I made a chart for you, Uncle Matt. To save time.” She pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Since there’s seven of you and twenty-three kids, you each get three, except two of you will need to take four.”

  Matt coughed into his fist, clearly covering his laughter. “Great. Thanks.”

  Wiggling toward the front of the chair until she could jump down, she marched over and handed Matt her chart. Then she came around to the side so she could explain it. “Me and my friends are the first group of four. We’re high energy, so Daddy and Miss O’Connor will be in charge of us.”

  Nicely played. His daughter, the matchmaker.

  “Uncle Rafe can also take four because Steve’s mom will be in that group. Also, he’s so big those kids wouldn’t dare step out of line.”

  Nick snorted. “Unless they figure out he’s a pushover.”

  “Am not.”

  “Are so, big guy.”

  Matt studied the paper. “You and Miss O’Connor have done a great job, Claire. Thanks.”

  “It was fun. We gave Uncle CJ the musical kids, plus Jocelyn’s mom because she’s a fan of Uncle CJ’s music. Uncle Nick gets the big eaters, Uncle Garrett will take the ones who like to fix stuff, Uncle Jake needs to have the funny ones, and you get the shy kids.”

  “I’ll consider that a compliment.”

  “It is. Daddy says you have a way of putting everyone at ease, which is why you’re a good leader.”

  Matt glanced at him. “Thanks, bro.”

  “Just stating the obvious.” He stood. “Now that we have our assignments, it’s time for our field marshal to get some shuteye.”

  She gave him a pleading look. “But we haven’t decided how the groups will rotate. Miss O’Connor suggested splitting the class in half, one for the ranch and one for Raptors Rise, and then switching places. But she said it’s up to us.”

  “You’ve done the heavy lifting, sweetie,” Matt said. “We can work out the rest on our own. You need your sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

  “Matt’s right,” Rafe said. “You don’t want to be dragging in the morning.”

  “I never drag in the morning. I’m up like a shot.”

  Garrett reached out and gave her arm a squeeze. “I seem to remember you promising your dad and me that you wouldn’t beg to stay up on fire pit nights. That was part of the deal.”

  She let out a dramatic sigh. “I should have known you’d remember that.” Turning back to Matt, she pointed at the chart. “My three best friends are in my group. I’d really like to show them the bunkhouse first, before anyone else sees it.”

  “I think that can be arranged.” Matt glanced up. “After all, it’s your home.”

  She beamed at him. “Thanks, Uncle Matt. Now I can go to bed and not worry about it.” She made the rounds, giving everyone a goodnight hug.

  Zeke walked her back to the bunkhouse. “Kind of obvious, isn’t it? Putting Miss O’Connor and me on the same team?”

  “Why not? You said you like her.”

  “I do, but you’re not going to convince me to date her.”

  “Because she’s my teacher?”

  “That, and because I’m not planning to date anyone for a while.”

  “But you go dancing at the Moose.”

  “Not the same thing.”

  “Have you met anyone you like there?”

  “Sweetheart, I’m not looking. I just enjoy dancing and hanging out with the gang.”

  “Piper’s parents got a divorce the same month as you and Mommy, and they’re both dating. One watches Piper and her brother when the other one goes out.”

  “Sounds very civilized.”

  “You wouldn’t have to worry about getting someone to watch me if you asked Miss O’Connor out. I have an open invitation at Gramma Henri’s.”

  He groaned. “Could we please drop this subject?”

  “Just let me say one more thing.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “It wouldn’t be weird to ask her out on a date because she’s my teacher. My friends don’t think so, either.”

  “You’ve talked to them about it?”

  “Of course. I talk to them about everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “If you’re wondering if I told them about Mom, yes, I did.” She took his hand. “She’s my mom, so I love her, but she wasn’t nice to you. Miss O’Connor’s nice, Daddy. And now I’ll drop the subject.”

  Zeke’s chest tightened. His daughter yearned to fill the empty space left by her uncaring mother. When the judge had granted him sole custody, he’d silently vowed to give her anything she needed. He hadn’t counted on her needing this.

  Chapter Two

  Taking her principal’s advice, Nell asked the parent chaperones to be the first ones on the bus and claim seats in the back. They could supervise from the rear. Then she staked out the two front seats by laying a reserved sign on each one.

  “Hey, Suzanne.” She smiled at the driver.

  “Big day, huh?”

  “My first field trip.”

  “It’ll be good. The kids like you. I hear them talking among themselves. They think you’re cool.”

  “They do?” What sweetie-pies.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “That’s nice to know.” She stepped down and joined Harland by the bus door. She’d lucked out starting her teaching career with Harland Kuhn, a seasoned educator with thirty years of experience and an endless supply of compassion.

  Her third-grade class waited quietly in a reasonably straight line, exactly as they’d practiced since the beginning of the year. Today they’d lined up by shirt color, with red in front.

  Her throat tightened at the expectation shining in their eager expressions. She’d fallen in love with these kids, and in another week they wouldn’t be hers anymore. They’d head off for summer break and in September they’d be Valerie Jenson’s fourth graders.

  She cleared her throat. “Thank you for being so courteous while you waited. When you board, sit wherever you like but no more than three per seat. Once you’ve chosen, stay in that seat. If you need me, raise your hand and I’ll come to you. I’ll be in the front behind the driver and Principal Kuhn will be across the aisle from me.” She stepped aside and motioned them up the steps.

  Harland took the other side of the door, bestowing smiles and salutes as the kids filed past. Of average height and build, he wasn’t particularly imposing until he spoke. His rich voice could calm a sobbing child or silence an auditorium filled with noisy students. She adored him and so did the kids.

  Although the class had been reasonably quiet in line, negotiating their seating arrangement was a noisy affair. They chattered like a flock of sparrows at a bird feeder.

  Suzanne surveyed the proces
s with a practiced eye. After ten years behind the wheel of a school bus, she was a steadying influence. As the din subsided, she leaned toward the open bus door. “They’re pretty much settled, folks.”

  “Thanks, Suzanne.” Nell climbed in, picked up the cardboard sign and slid into her seat. Harland positioned himself across the aisle and gave her a thumbs-up before he turned to face the rows of eight-year-olds.

  He was a savvy veteran of many such outings. He liked to joke that field trips were responsible for his gray hair. She, on the other hand, was a first-timer, at least as a teacher in charge. She had great memories of her own field trips at this age, though.

  She swiveled in her seat and took a quick head count. Claire and Piper had commandeered the seat behind her. Riley and Tatum were in the next seat back.

  The girls were inseparable. Claire’s passion for horses and ranch life had drawn them together three months ago. Now all four were obsessed with having a horse of their own.

  Riley had been the first to achieve it. Her parents had given her a ten-year-old bay gelding for her birthday last month. Piper’s and Tatum’s families lived on property that lacked the zoning for large animals, but both sets of parents had agreed to book some riding lessons this summer.

  Claire was holding out for a buckskin, which meant she’d have to wait until her dad could afford one. For the bus ride, she and Piper had twisted on the bench seat so they could continue an animated debate with Riley and Tatum about the best breeds for barrel racing.

  Nell had been horse-crazy at eight, too. She and her parents had lived in a high-rise in San Francisco, but that hadn’t stopped her from dreaming of galloping across a flower-strewn mountain valley on a black stallion. Wasn’t to be.