Rodeo Father. Mary Sullivan

Cindy squeezed past Rachel and Victoria and stepped down from the porch.

      “No!” Rachel didn’t want her mother embarrassing her. “Mom, please. Don’t—”

      “Don’t what?”

      “Don’t flirt with him like you do with every man you meet.”

      Cindy wouldn’t just be welcoming Travis to the neighborhood. She would ramp it up to see what she could get out of the man.

      “He’s the best-looking man we’ve had around here in ages. If you think I’m going to pass him up, you’re nuts.” Cindy rubbed her hands on her thighs, the gesture telling. “I’m still young. I can flirt with any man I want. It’s none of your business.”

      Cindy was pretty enough to turn any man’s head, but she’d been plagued with a neediness that routinely drove her into the arms of the wrong kind of man.

      Relentless, she was forever on the lookout for her next conquest.

      Her sights had just zeroed in on the one across the way.

      “Please, Cindy, no. You want to get your hooks into him.” Rachel knew Cindy’s needs inside and out. The vulnerability in the depths of her eyes was exactly the thing that had gotten her into trouble when she was only fifteen, hitching her pony to a good-looking drifter’s wagon and then getting pregnant. Whoever the guy was, he’d been long gone by the time Rachel had been born.

      Rachel was twenty-eight and her mother only forty-three. Rachel guessed Travis to be in his mid-to late thirties. Cindy could conceivably flirt with him, but what a load of trouble it could bring.

      “Mom, he’s not a drifter. He’s our new neighbor. He bought the house, for Pete’s sake.”

      “So?”

      “So...” Rachel said with forced patience. “This could go wrong in so many ways.”

      “Everything will be fine. I’m only going over to talk to him.” In Cindy’s voice, Rachel heard the hints of desperation that had been growing stronger since Cindy had turned forty.

      “And when the relationship goes sour, as it always does?” Rachel’s displeasure bubbled over. She’d seen this movie too many times and hated the ending. “How good a neighbor will he be then? How good will you be?”

      Cindy shrugged. “Maybe this time it will work out.” She started to mosey down the driveway, but turned back. “You could always move into a place of your own, and then you wouldn’t have to watch me talk to men.” She walked across the road.

      Mom was right. This was her mother’s home, not hers. Cindy could flirt with whomever she wanted. “Come on, sugar pie, let’s go inside,” Rachel said, urging Tori ahead of her, unwilling to witness Cindy’s performance.

      Inside the house, she strode to the kitchen and settled Tori into a chair.

      In the bedroom, Rachel chose one of her few maternity shirts and put it on with her good maternity jeans.

      She returned to the kitchen where she put the finishing touches to the dinner she’d made to take to work with her, every action staccato and peevish.

      She had no claim on the new stranger. Cindy could do whatever she wanted with him.

      She packed a quinoa salad and a pint of milk, dropping them into her bag too hard.

      Forcing herself to calm down, she took Tori’s tiny face between her hands. Rachel kissed her forehead and her nose. “I love you, sweetie. Come sit on the porch and wave goodbye.”

      She picked up her purse from the hall table and left the trailer, making sure Cindy was on her way back before heading to her car.

      Tori retrieved her favorite stuffed animal, a furry gray platypus. Rachel shook off dirt before she let her daughter hug it to her chest. “Stay on the porch till the car is gone, okay?”

      She approached Cindy who’d moseyed back across the highway with her ultra-sexy, phony walk that Rachel disliked.

      Wary of her mom’s Cheshire cat grin, she asked, “What’s up?”

      “I’ve got a date,” Cindy said with a whole boatload of smugness.

      Disappointment thrummed through Rachel. So that’s the kind of man Travis was, a guy who kissed strangers, but liked flashy women like Cindy. Was the man a player? Had she pegged him all wrong? “When?”

      “Tonight.”

      “Tonight? But I’m working. You’re taking care of Tori.”

      “I know. I’ll ask Laurie to babysit for a few hours.” Cindy went to the porch and bent to talk to Tori. “You don’t mind, do you, honey? Laurie is fun.”

      “She colors with me.” Tori smiled with Cindy’s dimples.

      “But I can’t afford to pay her,” Rachel objected, knowing Cindy wouldn’t offer to pick up the tab.

      “Sure you can. You make good tips at the bar.”

      “But—” What could she say? I need money to move out, to get away from you? She couldn’t bear to sound so cold and ungrateful, especially not when Cindy had been kind enough to take her in. Rachel should have never moved back into the trailer with Cindy and her resentment, but what else could she have done? Davey had left her with nothing but broken promises and hot air.

      Rachel gave in to the inevitable. “Okay. I’ll be home after one.”

      Before leaving, Rachel kissed Tori again because, while Davey hadn’t been able to keep a buck in his pocket, he had made her laugh a lot and had given her the most precious of gifts, two children.

      Just as Rachel opened her car door, Tori called, “See you later, aggilator.”

      Ah, Victoria, my sweet divine daughter, you raise my spirits as much as your father used to.

      Rachel blew her an air kiss. “Alligator, Tori-ori-ori-o. In a while, crocodile,” she sang and got into her old car and drove away laughing, but not before catching her new neighbor watching her with a strange expression on his face.

      Travis Read, who are you? The man who loved his carousel ride this morning, or the kind who is attracted to a flashy, shallow flirt like my mother?

      * * *

      A HEADACHE POUNDED behind Rachel’s left eye. The tray full of beers she carried dragged down her arms. Was the music louder than usual tonight?

      Honey’s Place was the only bar in Rodeo. True, there was the diner, but her friend Vy ran an alcohol-free eatery, and most people wanted beer with their fries on a Friday night.

      A lot of these people were cowboys who worked the ranches in the area. They came in at the end of the week for liquor, great burgers and fun music.

      Despite her aching legs and feet, Rachel hustled. She needed her tips, needed to come up with an alternative plan now that Abigail’s house had been sold.

      If she felt a tad desperate, well...she was.

      A table called for a round of beers. Rachel headed to the bar to fill the order.

      “How’re you doing?” Rushed but efficient, Honey Armstrong filled orders as quickly as her servers brought them to the bar. Her mane of long, blond curls wild tonight, she peered at Rachel critically. “You look tired.”

      Fearful of giving Honey a reason to send her home early, Rachel put on her game face.

      “I’m good.”

      “Rach, don’t try to fool me. You know you can’t.”

      “I’ll take a dinner break soon,” Rachel promised.

      Honey pointed a finger at her. “You’d better. You look worn out.”

      It was Friday night, the bar was packed and Rachel needed to hustle. She