Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the mix of floral scents—daffodils, tulips and hyacinths. That was the part of living in the city that she missed most—the spring flowers that bloomed after the snow. Soon the bulbs would die out and the perennials would bloom, and Carol’s garden would be a riot of color and different scents.
Could she possibly keep up Carol’s garden? She didn’t know a weed from a potential flower.
Could she be a good mother to Rose? She didn’t know that, either.
She stared at the back of the huge Victorian, admiring the turrets and the porches that jutted out. It had more rooms than most B&Bs, and she knew that Carol and Rick had wanted more children to fill those rooms.
Looking to her right, she saw a big statue of some goddess—maybe Athena, maybe not. Lisa didn’t know her goddesses, but this one was emptying water from some kind of pitcher into a concrete pool.
Currently, Sully was roping Athena. He twirled a rope over his head, then he’d let it loose and it would fly, catching under Athena’s breasts and above the pitcher. Every now and then, he’d stop and stare off into the distance, as if he were thinking.
He roped over and over again and stared, until finally he shook his head and walked over to where she was sitting.
“Mind if I sit down?” he asked, loosening his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. He tossed the rope on the ground.
“Are you done roping?” she asked.
“I always rope when I think.”
She moved over to give him room on the bench. “I’ve been thinking, too.”
“We have some decisions to make,” he said.
“No kidding. Maybe I should learn to rope, too, so I can sort things out.”
Sully raised a perfect black eyebrow. “I’ll teach you. It’s good therapy.”
Why did he have to have eyelashes like paintbrushes? In contrast, she was pale and had to glob on mascara and eyebrow pencil to show that she even had lashes and brows.
His blue eyes met her dark green ones. “First of all, do you think we can work together? I mean, we don’t even like each other. Rose will sense that.”
He certainly believed in laying his cards on the table, didn’t he?
Taking a deep breath, he continued. “We are two adults. And we both love Rose. And there’s no way I want her raised by my parents. They’re too controlling, especially my father. He always treated Rick and me like army privates. I can’t see him with a little girl.”
“I don’t want her raised by mine, either. They’re not controlling enough,” Lisa said. “And we don’t want her in a foster home with strangers. So we’re all she’s got.”
“Poor kid.” Sully smiled, and his eyes twinkled.
Lisa could understand why the buckle bunnies fell at his feet. The cowboy could be charming when he wanted to be.
“Yeah, poor kid,” she agreed.
They shared a smile, and Lisa couldn’t believe how much they’d agreed on in one sitting, unlike their past history.
Suddenly, Lisa’s smile faded and tears cascaded down her cheeks—not for herself, but for Carol and Rick, who’d never see their little girl grow up. And for Rose, of course, who’d never know her parents.
Sully hesitantly reached for her hand, and she didn’t have the strength to move it away. She appreciated the gesture. When his hand closed over hers, she could feel his strength, his warmth. For a brief moment, she felt confident that they’d do okay.
“I really don’t want her to have to do a six-month split between her grandparents,” he said again. “It’d be too disruptive on top of everything.”
“I agree, Sully. No way.”
“So we’re going to have to make this work, Lisa.”
“I know. And I’m scared.”
“I’m not scared of a crazy, two-thousand-pound bull with horns the size of baseball bats, but I’m damn scared of raising a little girl.”
“I’ve seen Rose with you. You’re great with her. And she adores you.” All her negative feelings about him aside, it was the truth.
“Back atcha.” He shook his head. “But I’m not the kind of guy who can stay in one place for any length of time.”
“Neither am I,” Lisa said. “And we can’t live in your motor home, and my apartment in Atlanta wouldn’t work. Carol and Rick wanted Rose raised in this house.”
“I know. Rose needs—” He gestured to the huge house. “This white elephant.”
“How are we going to earn a living?” Lisa asked. “I know that we have some money coming in from Carol and Rick, but that’s Rose’s money.”
“We’re going to have to work something out. I’m really close to winning the Finals this year in Vegas. I need to compete.”
Vegas? That was the other side of the country from New York.
“But it’s only April, and the PBR Finals are in November,” she said, remembering the announcements on TV when she’d watched him ride.
“How do you know that?” he asked. “Do you watch me?”
“Of course not!” she lied. “I must have seen the Finals advertised somewhere.”
For some reason, she actually looked forward to the weekend when the bull riding, and Sully, would be on TV. If she was flying, she taped it, and she would never admit that she screamed for him to ride his bull for eight seconds.
Why? She didn’t know. On one occasion, it crossed her mind that she might be secretly attracted to Sully, but she quickly dismissed that. She just liked the sport. It was … different. Sully was a minor celebrity who she knew, and he was just someone to cheer for.
“We can worry about Las Vegas later,” Lisa said.
“No, we can’t. I have to compete to stay high in the rankings to have a chance at winning in Vegas. I have to work the circuit,” he said, his right leg bouncing like a nervous tick. “And that means traveling to all the events. By my calculations, there are seventeen left. That’s about four a month, with the summer off.”
“And I’m going to have to fly, Sully. I need to fly.”
He tightened the grip on her hand. “Shall we tell the lawyer that we’re not ready yet?” He looked at her with those damn blue eyes.
“That might be the truth, but we can’t do that,” she said. “And somehow I think Mr. Randolph knows that we don’t have the lifestyle to be parents. He’s going to be making surprise visits.”
“I know.”
Lisa sighed. “But besides our jobs, you never liked me, and I never liked you. You are a party animal, and—”
“And you’re a drag,” he finished.
She raised an eyebrow. “If you’re referring to Rose’s christening when you got a keg and you persuaded all the men to watch football, play cards and smoke cigars, then, yes, I’m a bore.”
“And you certainly speak your mind,” he added.
“I certainly do, especially when someone acts like a jerk. Let me remind you about Rick’s bachelor party,” she said.
“Please don’t. I still haven’t recovered yet—”
“And then there’s the time—”