Page 15 of Coming Home to Maverick

Chagrined, he could only shrug. “I guess you distracted me.” It was the absolute truth.

“Mom won! Mom won!” Gracie jumped up and down and laughed.

Maverick nodded. “You are so right. This deserves an ice cream to celebrate. Who’s in?”

Both girls raised their hands.

“Then we’re off. I happen to know where to get the best ice cream in town.”

As they crowded into a booth, he on one side and Bailey and Gracie on the other, he didn’t think he could enjoy the moment any more than he already was. “Now, Gracie, I need to hear some stories about your mama, ’cause she’s something special around here. And I’m betting she was something special wherever you guys were too.”

Gracie nodded right away and scooped a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “She was, mm-hmm.”

He waited.

“She’s the best story reader I’ve ever heard.” The girl nodded again, followed by another spoonful. “She reads me my top three and then even one more every night.”

He was expecting something about her singing or playing guitars or something, but Gracie’s reply was even better. “I can’t think of anything more special. That’s even better than winning the bull riding contest.”

“Mm-hmm.”

His gaze found Bailey’s, and he reached for her hand across the table.

“What about you, Maverick?” Bailey asked. Then she turned to her daughter. “Did you know that Maverick here is a true rodeo star?”

“There was a time I might have been.” He avoided her face as he fiddled with his napkin, and she rushed to apologize.

“Of course. I’m sorry about your dad. Really sorry. This place isn’t the same without him.”

“Thank you. No, it’s not.” He shrugged it off. He wished it had been that easy when he’d turned down the first-place championship spot on the national rodeo team.

In many ways, it had been easy to know what he should do. He couldn’t have told his mother that she would have to care for the ranch without him. But knowing what he should do and feeling happy about it were two different things. He still missed those days. He placed his napkin on the table. “There’s something gripping about the words ‘might have been.’”

Her gaze shot up to his, and he was struck by the power of what he’d just said. He was sitting sharing ice cream with the largest “might have been” of his life.

He shifted in his seat, releasing her hand. “So, what’s a pretty pair of ladies like the two of you doing here without a handsome cowboy at your side?”

The grateful twinkle in Bailey’s eyes told him she was ready for lighter topics. She raised one eyebrow. It wiggled for a moment like it always did when she was about to tease him. “Why, you know one?”

“I think I could wrangle one for you.” He flexed.

And she laughed, but not before he saw a hint of appreciation as her gaze traveled over his arms and chest.

“’Cause me and the sweet pea, here, we’re beginning to think that good cowboys are in short supply.”

“They might be. We’re a dying breed. But I could pull some strings.”

Her grin widened, and her eyes were sincere. “Well, I don’t know if that will be necessary. I got the best one around right here.” She looked away and then back. “If he still has time for that kind of thing.”

“I’ve got time.” He laughed. “Bailey, would you like to go to dinner with me?”

“Only if it involves—”

“Feed Store barbecue?”

“Exactly.”

“I can arrange that. Tonight at seven?”

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