Read Online The Cowboy's Secret Baby: BWWM Cowboy Pregnancy Romance (Young Adult First Time Billionaire Steamy African American) by Christin Jensen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christin Jensen
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positive for a change.”
“I was glad to hear the man had got in touch with his daughter,” McGee remarked. “She really needed that piece of her past to help make her a whole person.”
Farris laughed shortly. “Why do you think I’ve been reading my parents’ old diaries and letters? I’ve started to realize I need to be a whole person, too.”
“Your problem was that neither of your parents had any siblings or much in the way of relatives,” McGee agreed. “There was nobody to pass down the memories. I hadn’t realized until you got started with that psychiatrist fellow how important those damn things are. – Dina and I tried to do our best by you, but there was so much we didn’t know.”
“Knowing your ancestry seems to be a bit of a mania here in the South,” Farris remarked, “but I’ve realized it has its uses. – The trouble is, most people can’t imagine their parents were ever young people.”
“Isn’t it the truth?” McGee stood and stretched. “And sometimes we don’t bother to ask questions until it’s already too late.
John Pirtle and the rented purple Chrysler arrived promptly at 2:00 PM the following afternoon. “Lord have mercy!” Dina McGee exclaimed as she started for the front door. “I’d know those brown eyes and that chin anywhere!”
To break the ice between the two men, Farris offered to take John Pirtle on a tour of the stables.
“Just show me little Courier,” Pirtle declared. “He’s all my daughter talks about. - Apparently he used to come and sit on her front porch.”
“Courier’s full grown now,” Farris answered, “and I’ll be glad to call him to the pasture fence. – Honestly, it’s hard to look at him these days without thinking of Clarice. Did she ever tell you about the time we both sat with him through a spell of colic?”
“Clarice doesn’t talk about things that happened up here,” Pirtle told him, “except to mention the horses.” He looked over at Farris, sizing him up. “I saw a drawing of you with some of the horses in one of her sketchbooks.”
Farris flushed. “If it’s that sketch of me with Bolivia and baby Courier, I’d love to possess it. Seeing that sketch was when I learned about Clarice’s superpower.”
“Interesting.” Pirtle was wearing town shoes, but walked as though he didn’t care what happened to them. “And what is Clarice’s superpower, may I ask?”
By now, they had arrived at the pasture fence. Farris leaned against it and whistled for Courier. “Here he comes; just a second.” A brown adult horse trotted up and nuzzled against his owner’s shoulder. “Courier, this is Clarice’s father,” Farris introduced, looking into the pony’s eyes. Then he stroked the horse’s head, and continued. “Clarice’s superpower is that she can draw the secret person who lives inside our outward shell. That’s what she does with animals, but it can get deadly when she uses it on people.”
“So that’s why she specializes in animals,” John Pirtle mused. “Having spent some time studying that sketch of you, I see what you mean. – I wonder if she’s ever drawn Marion,” he added. “That would be revealing.”
Meanwhile, Courier, recognizing something familiar about the new human, wandered over and lipped the shoulder of Pirtle’s coat. “You think I smell like Clarice?” the older man asked conversationally. “I’d really like to think so, Courier.”
Farris turned, dismissing the young horse, and led the way to the guest cabin he had avoided like plague since the previous summer. “Now that we’ve more or less unmasked ourselves, Mr. Pirtle, maybe we’d better sit down and talk.”
“This must be the guest cabin Clarice was so crazy about.” John Pirtle stood in the middle of the main room, looking around. “I can see a few pinholes where sketches were hung up.”
“She just used the log wall, not the ones where
“I was glad to hear the man had got in touch with his daughter,” McGee remarked. “She really needed that piece of her past to help make her a whole person.”
Farris laughed shortly. “Why do you think I’ve been reading my parents’ old diaries and letters? I’ve started to realize I need to be a whole person, too.”
“Your problem was that neither of your parents had any siblings or much in the way of relatives,” McGee agreed. “There was nobody to pass down the memories. I hadn’t realized until you got started with that psychiatrist fellow how important those damn things are. – Dina and I tried to do our best by you, but there was so much we didn’t know.”
“Knowing your ancestry seems to be a bit of a mania here in the South,” Farris remarked, “but I’ve realized it has its uses. – The trouble is, most people can’t imagine their parents were ever young people.”
“Isn’t it the truth?” McGee stood and stretched. “And sometimes we don’t bother to ask questions until it’s already too late.
John Pirtle and the rented purple Chrysler arrived promptly at 2:00 PM the following afternoon. “Lord have mercy!” Dina McGee exclaimed as she started for the front door. “I’d know those brown eyes and that chin anywhere!”
To break the ice between the two men, Farris offered to take John Pirtle on a tour of the stables.
“Just show me little Courier,” Pirtle declared. “He’s all my daughter talks about. - Apparently he used to come and sit on her front porch.”
“Courier’s full grown now,” Farris answered, “and I’ll be glad to call him to the pasture fence. – Honestly, it’s hard to look at him these days without thinking of Clarice. Did she ever tell you about the time we both sat with him through a spell of colic?”
“Clarice doesn’t talk about things that happened up here,” Pirtle told him, “except to mention the horses.” He looked over at Farris, sizing him up. “I saw a drawing of you with some of the horses in one of her sketchbooks.”
Farris flushed. “If it’s that sketch of me with Bolivia and baby Courier, I’d love to possess it. Seeing that sketch was when I learned about Clarice’s superpower.”
“Interesting.” Pirtle was wearing town shoes, but walked as though he didn’t care what happened to them. “And what is Clarice’s superpower, may I ask?”
By now, they had arrived at the pasture fence. Farris leaned against it and whistled for Courier. “Here he comes; just a second.” A brown adult horse trotted up and nuzzled against his owner’s shoulder. “Courier, this is Clarice’s father,” Farris introduced, looking into the pony’s eyes. Then he stroked the horse’s head, and continued. “Clarice’s superpower is that she can draw the secret person who lives inside our outward shell. That’s what she does with animals, but it can get deadly when she uses it on people.”
“So that’s why she specializes in animals,” John Pirtle mused. “Having spent some time studying that sketch of you, I see what you mean. – I wonder if she’s ever drawn Marion,” he added. “That would be revealing.”
Meanwhile, Courier, recognizing something familiar about the new human, wandered over and lipped the shoulder of Pirtle’s coat. “You think I smell like Clarice?” the older man asked conversationally. “I’d really like to think so, Courier.”
Farris turned, dismissing the young horse, and led the way to the guest cabin he had avoided like plague since the previous summer. “Now that we’ve more or less unmasked ourselves, Mr. Pirtle, maybe we’d better sit down and talk.”
“This must be the guest cabin Clarice was so crazy about.” John Pirtle stood in the middle of the main room, looking around. “I can see a few pinholes where sketches were hung up.”
“She just used the log wall, not the ones where
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