A Cowboy's Heart by Brenda Minton Page A

candy?
    â€œI really do have to go. She’s close to having that calf, and I don’t want to lose either of them.”
    â€œOf course.” He smiled and she remembered that his smile was the reason she’d jumped in her truck and driven down to the church.
    She averted her eyes and glanced down at the boys, each holding cotton candy that was nearly gone. “You two have fun.”
    They nodded but took another bite of spun sugar. They wouldn’t sleep for a week. She laughed a little and turned to face Janie and Clint.
    â€œI’ll see you all later.” She made her escape. It was definitelyan escape, she realized that. She was running from someone who made her feel too much.
    And she had more reasons for running than he could possibly know.
    Â 
    Clint woke up at daybreak, the sun just peeking over the flat, Oklahoma horizon. He looked in at the boys, still sound asleep. They’d stayed late at the church, where the boys had played games, throwing rings around soda bottles and darts at balloons. They now had a cabinet full of root beer, and a bag of cheap toys and stuffed animals, all prizes from the games they’d played after Willow left.
    At least the cow had been more than just an excuse. The proof was the spindly-legged calf standing next to her momma in the corral next to the barn.
    Sometimes he wondered if she gave anyone a chance to really know her. Or was it just about him? He could still remember her peeking through the curtains all those years ago, hiding. Embarrassed?
    He put on a pot of coffee and then went to wake the boys. David was already stirring, his eyes blinking open a few times and then catching with Clint’s.
    How did he do this? How could he be a parent when he didn’t have any experience, other than having been an older brother? Doubts hung out in the pit of his stomach when he thought about it.
    Clint kneeled next to the twin bed and smiled at the little boy, a child with his sister’s dimples. Clint closed his eyes, praying for them to get through the next year, and praying for Jenna to stay safe.
    She had to come home to the boys. They all needed her. He included. David leaned on one scraped elbow, his eyes sad. Clint mussed the kid’s hair and tried to pretend they were all okay, and that he knew how to be the parent they needed.
    â€œHow about cereal for breakfast?” Clint asked as David sat up, rubbing sleep-filled eyes.
    â€œWe like pancakes,” Timmy’s groggy voice said from the other bed.
    Clint turned, smiling at the other twin. “I don’t think I have stuff for pancakes, Timmy.”
    â€œAunt Janie does. She said so. Last night she said,” and he cleared his throat to make the point, “‘you boys come over in the morning, and I’ll whip you up some homemade pancakes.’”
    Four years old and a mimic. Clint laughed at the fair imitation.
    â€œOkay, we’ll go to Janie’s for pancakes.” He stood, stiff from squatting, and from too many times landing on a hard-packed dirt arena. “Get dressed, okay?”
    â€œI don’t want pancakes.” David covered his head with the blanket. “I want my mom.”
    The words were muffled, but the emotion wasn’t, or the slight sob that followed.
    Clint stood at the door, his heart squeezing. “I know, buddy. But she’ll be home as soon as she can get here.”
    In a year. One year of her children’s lives, lost. One year of missing milestones. One year of him worrying, and praying she’d be safe.
    He smiled at Timmy. “Help your brother get ready.”
    One year of life on hold for all of them.
    A short time later, he walked out of Janie’s and across the road to the barn. The boys were eating pancakes, and Janie was hugging them, pretending the tears in her eyes were from dust.
    He walked through the large double doors at the front of the barn and was greeted by silence. Light poured out from the