Read Online Cowboys Like Us by Vicki Lewis Thompson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson
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then.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
His voice lowered a notch. “Me, too. ’Bye, Caro.”
His tone sent shivers up her spine, but she wasn’t sure he should have taken the chance on Josie overhearing. He’d put a wealth of meaning into those last four words. Yes, she would definitely take lipstick along.
L OGAN HANDED THE CELL phone back to Josie. “Thanks for arranging this for her.” His plan was working perfectly.
Josie had shown up to search for an old wooden cradle Jack remembered being stored in the barn. Spotting Josie’s truck, Logan had gone down to the barn and offered to help find the cradle. During the search he’d mentioned Caro getting time off, and Josie had been glad to arrange it.
She tucked the phone back in her jeans pocket. “Happy to.” She gazed around the barn. “I know that cradle has to be here. I can’t imagine anyone pitching it out. Let’s try the tack room.” She started in that direction. “Did Caro tell you about her grandmother?”
“She did, and she tried very hard not to sound stressed about her schedule, but she is.”
“I know she is, but I didn’t think of this solution of getting somebody to take her shift. Good idea. Before the move into assisted living, her grandmother was a really cheerful sort, not needy at all, but now she asks Caro for her schedule and expects a visit whenever Caro’s off work.”
“Isn’t that a little unreasonable?”
Josie surveyed the tack room, where saddles and bridles hung from hooks lining the walls, and saddle blankets were stacked in a large bin in the corner. “I suppose, but this is a woman who’s lived in the same little house in Shoshone most of her life, and who had Caro living with her for the past twenty-some years. My guess is she’s suffering from separation anxiety.”
“Don’t those assisted living places have counselors to deal with that?”
“I’m sure they do, but counseling isn’t an instant fix for people in their eighties. Or anyone, for that matter.” Josie glanced up into the rafters. “There it is! Somebody put it up there for safekeeping.”
Logan gazed where she was pointing and spotted the cradlebalanced on two beams. He also saw dust and cobwebs, but maybe the cradle would look great once it was cleaned up. “I’ll get it.” He pulled a wooden stool over and climbed up on it.
“Be careful, Logan. I don’t want you reinjuring your knee.”
“I won’t.” He wished he could do that Men in Black trick and erase everyone’s memory of his knee problem. He was sick of having people worry about whether his knee could withstand whatever activity he’d chosen to do.
He brought the cradle down in a shower of dust that made them both sneeze. “That’s been up there a hell of a long time.” He placed it gently on the floor, but anyone could see that a simple cleanup wouldn’t do the trick. Something had been gnawing on the wood, and the cradle listed to one side. It didn’t smell very good, and although Logan was no expert on bat shit, he thought that might explain the odor.
“It’s a mess, isn’t it?” Josie sounded distressed.
“I’m afraid so. I wouldn’t trust my baby in that thing. Sorry, Josie.”
“Jack said that supposedly his grandpa Archie built this for Jonathan. But then Diana, Jack’s mother, didn’t want to use it. I guess it got shoved into the rafters and ignored.”
“Maybe you need to buy a new cradle.”
“But I like it, Logan. Look at how he cut that heart pattern out of the head and footboards. You’re not going to find that just anywhere.” She glanced at him. “Could you fix it? I remember you were always building things back in high school. When you weren’t on the baseball field, you were in wood shop.”
Logan studied the cradle. “It’s been a long time.” But her comment reminded him of the satisfaction he’d felt whenever he finished a woodworking project. He’d abandoned that interest in favor of baseball, but he
“I’m looking forward to it.”
His voice lowered a notch. “Me, too. ’Bye, Caro.”
His tone sent shivers up her spine, but she wasn’t sure he should have taken the chance on Josie overhearing. He’d put a wealth of meaning into those last four words. Yes, she would definitely take lipstick along.
L OGAN HANDED THE CELL phone back to Josie. “Thanks for arranging this for her.” His plan was working perfectly.
Josie had shown up to search for an old wooden cradle Jack remembered being stored in the barn. Spotting Josie’s truck, Logan had gone down to the barn and offered to help find the cradle. During the search he’d mentioned Caro getting time off, and Josie had been glad to arrange it.
She tucked the phone back in her jeans pocket. “Happy to.” She gazed around the barn. “I know that cradle has to be here. I can’t imagine anyone pitching it out. Let’s try the tack room.” She started in that direction. “Did Caro tell you about her grandmother?”
“She did, and she tried very hard not to sound stressed about her schedule, but she is.”
“I know she is, but I didn’t think of this solution of getting somebody to take her shift. Good idea. Before the move into assisted living, her grandmother was a really cheerful sort, not needy at all, but now she asks Caro for her schedule and expects a visit whenever Caro’s off work.”
“Isn’t that a little unreasonable?”
Josie surveyed the tack room, where saddles and bridles hung from hooks lining the walls, and saddle blankets were stacked in a large bin in the corner. “I suppose, but this is a woman who’s lived in the same little house in Shoshone most of her life, and who had Caro living with her for the past twenty-some years. My guess is she’s suffering from separation anxiety.”
“Don’t those assisted living places have counselors to deal with that?”
“I’m sure they do, but counseling isn’t an instant fix for people in their eighties. Or anyone, for that matter.” Josie glanced up into the rafters. “There it is! Somebody put it up there for safekeeping.”
Logan gazed where she was pointing and spotted the cradlebalanced on two beams. He also saw dust and cobwebs, but maybe the cradle would look great once it was cleaned up. “I’ll get it.” He pulled a wooden stool over and climbed up on it.
“Be careful, Logan. I don’t want you reinjuring your knee.”
“I won’t.” He wished he could do that Men in Black trick and erase everyone’s memory of his knee problem. He was sick of having people worry about whether his knee could withstand whatever activity he’d chosen to do.
He brought the cradle down in a shower of dust that made them both sneeze. “That’s been up there a hell of a long time.” He placed it gently on the floor, but anyone could see that a simple cleanup wouldn’t do the trick. Something had been gnawing on the wood, and the cradle listed to one side. It didn’t smell very good, and although Logan was no expert on bat shit, he thought that might explain the odor.
“It’s a mess, isn’t it?” Josie sounded distressed.
“I’m afraid so. I wouldn’t trust my baby in that thing. Sorry, Josie.”
“Jack said that supposedly his grandpa Archie built this for Jonathan. But then Diana, Jack’s mother, didn’t want to use it. I guess it got shoved into the rafters and ignored.”
“Maybe you need to buy a new cradle.”
“But I like it, Logan. Look at how he cut that heart pattern out of the head and footboards. You’re not going to find that just anywhere.” She glanced at him. “Could you fix it? I remember you were always building things back in high school. When you weren’t on the baseball field, you were in wood shop.”
Logan studied the cradle. “It’s been a long time.” But her comment reminded him of the satisfaction he’d felt whenever he finished a woodworking project. He’d abandoned that interest in favor of baseball, but he
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