Page 16 of The Texas Cowboy's Proposal

“Well, there you are, you sly cowboy. Who knew you had some devious brains under that hat, after all?”

He didn’t turn around but kept his gaze intent on the horse in front of him. The sooner he had the saddle in place, the sooner he had his means of escape at hand. “Don’t know what sly man you think you’ve found, but you might be in the wrong place. In fact, I know you are. This place is off limits. Or did you forget that part of our deal?”

“I don’t forget anything, Beau, not where my favorite ex is involved. I just thought I should pay you a visit now that I’m back home for a while and all. See what you and my daughter have been up to. But I didn’t have to wait long to hear. My, my. Seems you have become quite the busy man. Maybe you’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”

“I don’t like riddles and have even less time for your chitchat.” He rested an arm along the top of the saddle, finally turning toward his unwelcome visitor.

Sandy Lou Betancourt Hawkes stood in one of her usual poses, giving time for those minions around her to give ample homage to what she envisioned was her divine presence in their midst. Better still, giving her better leverage to trap some unsuspecting male fly in her sticky spider web to be devoured in her leisure. She had changed. She’d became even more the black widow spider he had morphed her into in the far back of his brain, where things like rattlers and quicksand congregated. Beaudry shook his head. Why had he taken so long to see the woman for what most others knew her to be?

She still wore jeans two sizes too small for her body. How she managed to even get into them without help of the heavy-duty kind was a mystery he did not care to figure out. The hot pink blouse had a few buttons missing from their buttonholes, leaving the mounds of cleavage more than on ample display. Pity the unsuspecting male who would find out just how much of her was really plastic and not nature’s own gift.

The remainder of the buttoned material looked to be straining to keep from popping things open the rest of the way. When he had married her, she had been a peroxided blonde. Now, she was channeling her inner being, her hair was still long, but as black as crude oil, making her skin appear even paler beneath the bright-red lipstick and heavily made-up eyes and cheeks. Her nails, long and razor-sharp, still were painted to match the lips. What had he ever seen in her? All he saw now was trouble with a capital T.

His senses were on alert.

“We agreed that you would stay off this ranch. Any communications would be between your attorney and mine. And that has worked well these past few years. You must want something really bad to be here now. Make it fast and then get off this ranch. And I don’t need to remind you to stay away frommydaughter either. Your parental rights were severed, remember?”

“Now, now, Beaudry Hawkes. You are still as sanctimonious as you always were. But then I guess you think you have the right to be Mr. High and Mighty now that you’re sniffing around that pot of gold at the end of the Burkitt rainbow.” She purred over the last few words, sidling closer to where he stood, two long fingers walking their way along the back of the saddle and sending shivers of the not-so-nice kind along Beaudry’s arm. He steeled himself to not jerk away. His experience told him it was best to wait and watch and be ready for her venom-laced jabs that would make themselves known sooner than later.

“There isn’t any pot of gold, so bark up someone else’s tree.”

“Oh, there is gold alright. If rumors are true, you fell into a pile of horse manure and are about to come up smelling like a million barrels of crude oil. Good for you.”

“Cut to it, Sandy Lou. You want something. What is it?”

The cold glint in those flat, brown eyes narrowed.

“My name is Sandra, and you’d do well to remember it. And I intend to keep an eye on things around here for the foreseeable future. I might have agreed to certain things between us a bit too hastily where it came to our kid. I have a very smart Dallas attorney now who just might teach Matt Mateo a thing or two about custody battles. Maybe it’s time I decided I want to get to know my daughter. She’s old enough to need a woman’s touch. Some things a cowhand can’t teach, but a mother can.”

Beaudry felt the anger boiling upward from the pit of his stomach. But he had learned long ago to not play his hand too soon in front of the woman, even though it was hard not to do. She clearly had some devious plan to wreak havoc among them all. He had to protect Lacy, and the only way to do that was to beat this woman at her own twisted game—whatever it was.

“That lets you out, then. You are as far from being mother material as a woman can get. You know where the front gate is. Use it.” He swung up into the saddle, and she had to make a quick side step to get out of the big bay’s path. A step that put one of her flimsy sandals into a fresh pile of manure. Beaudry tapped a finger to the brim of his hat, the smile he shot at her not at all apologetic, then left her fuming in his wake.

*

An afternoon breezehad risen to bring the heat down a few notches. A few clouds puffed up to the north, but nothing to worry about. It was fall in most places to the far north and east, but in their area of Texas, the calendar and weather did not often speak to each other. Still, there needed to be a way to wash out the memory of the meeting with Sandy Lou from his mind. What better way than to take his daughter on an impromptu fishing outing? Her eyes had lit up with unbridled happiness when she had gotten out of the car in the driveway after school.

“Fishing? Are we going fishing? Is it a special day?” She came running up to Beaudry as he stood with fishing rods and tackle box in hand. Beast was already seated in their transportation, his huge head propped on the open side of the rear window of the vehicle.

“Yes, it’s a special day.Take your best daughter fishing day...didn’t you hear about it? Here, give Seraphina your backpack and let’s not keep those fish waiting.”

“Don’t worry about dinner tonight, Seraphina,” he said as the backpack was handed over to the waiting woman. “Lacy and I will supply our dinner tonight.”

The woman nodded with a knowing grin on her face. “Well, there’ll be a casserole in the refrigerator, just in case those fish have other ideas. Have fun, you two!”

The pair jumped in the jeep that was often used for off-road adventures and checking fence lines and fire roads. It was a favorite ride of Lacy’s and ratcheted up her enthusiasm level even more. Her laughter never failed to lift Beaudry’s heart.

“Looks like there are a few ripples out there, but nothing to disturb our chances.” Beaudry made the observation as they arrived a few minutes later at the stocked fishing pond that also doubled as a pretty good swimming hole on the ranch. It was half shaded by a circle of tall oaks at one end. The breeze felt a few degrees cooler coming off the water and filtering through the shady branches. They fished in silence for the first few minutes. Beaudry smiled, watching the seriousness cross his daughter’s face, a slight tip of her tongue caught between her teeth as she was intent on willing some huge fish to take her bait first.

He inched his way over, careful to not scare away her imaginary giant from taking a bite off her hook. He joined her seated on a huge fallen tree at the edge of the water. His gaze swept over the scenery around them. The heaviness on his shoulders had all but disappeared. Funny how the spot on the old fallen log, in total silence, was the perfect balm to whatever ailed a person—given his favorite person was seated next to him. Lacy made everything seem possible and put so much of his life into perspective. Someday, he hoped to have the words to convey all of that to her. But for the present, it was one of those perfect moments to snap a brain photo of and tuck away in the center of his chest.

“I’ve got one!” Lacy’s sudden shout brought the reality into focus, and Beaudry sat his rod aside but put away the urge to reach out and take over her rod and reel and bring in the fish for her. This was Lacy’s moment. He had to be the cheering section.

“Easy. Remember, keep your focus on the end of the line. Don’t rush it... smooth and easy, reel it in, feel the tug, and adjust your reaction to it. Don’t worry about how big... you’ll see that soon enough. Just concentrate on bringing that bobbing cork and its prize all the way home.”

Lacy had risen to her feet, the sliver of tongue now more in evidence as her concentration was centered on the bobbing and weaving bright yellow cork. It would disappear and then surface, edging closer to them as Lacy fought to keep her rod and reel steady. Beaudry had begun teaching her the fine art of fishing at the ripe old age of five with her first cheap plastic rod and reel that made her feel like her dad and uncle on their fishing outings. She had graduated after being an apt pupil into her own real rod and reel on her seventh birthday. At eight, almost nine now, she was more than a novice. Beaudry felt pride as he watched her. She was determined to land it all by herself, no help from Dad. So he sat, hands fisted together, praying that the fish would cooperate.

“Look at him. He’s huge!” The words came out through gritted teeth.

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