Carrillo's Cowboy by Tee Smith (english books to improve english txt) 📕

“Isn’t that still all you think about?” Callie chided with a pat on his leg.

“You, anyway.” He laughed, capturing her hand in his and holding it in place. He hadn’t come here expecting to find romance. That had been the furthest thing from his mind, and yet here he was, with this beautiful, strong, feisty woman.

“I don’t know how to raise boys,” she conceded. “I wish my dad was still here. He’d know what to do.”

“I’m here. I’m a boy.”

His offer was met with a roll of her eyes. “I meant someone who is going to stick around. Be a constant. I guess even my dad wasn’t that in the end.”

“Ouch,” he winced. It wasn’t as if they had spoken about how long he would stay. It wasn’t as if he had plans to marry Callie Carrillo, but somehow in those few words, she had pushed him away. Let him know she expected little from him. Maybe she was right to feel that way. After all, he was a wanderer. She was grounded. Solid. Attached to her little piece of the world, Carrillo Estate. She wasn’t going anywhere.

Chapter Ten

Passing the Brayshaw farm, the second biggest after Carrillo Estate in Harlow’s Bend, her memories turned to Ryan. He was several years older than her; she’d had a huge crush on him at school. The Brayshaw kids had starred in the band, aptly named The Brays, that still played at the rodeo today.

Bec, the older sister, had long since moved on, married a cowboy from interstate, and followed him home. Ryan, however, had stayed on to help his parents on the farm and still played guitar in his band, whose biggest gig of the year was the Carrillo Rodeo, and the odd party in town. Somehow a late-thirty something, long-haired guitar player wasn’t something that appealed to her anymore. She shook her head and chuckled to herself. At one point, she would have thought she had done so much better with her life, growing up, moving away, and now, here she was, right back where she started.

Finally, she pulled into the parking bay at the school—the same school she had attended for twelve years. Little had changed over the years. They had re-painted it a bright blue not long after she had left, but now the paint had faded, and it needed to be re-done. Or the building demolished, and a whole new one built in its place.

“Come in. Take a seat, Mrs. Green,” the bushy-faced man offered. He couldn’t be much over twenty-five, and she assumed his beard probably aged him a few years.

“Ms. Carrillo,” she bit out, wanting to correct him. Green was Grace and Austin’s last name, and she wouldn’t impose her name on them, but she didn’t have to associate her own with her ex-husband.

“Ms. Carrillo,” he repeated, sweeping a hand toward his desk, inviting her to take a seat.

Ducking her head, she made her way to the offered chair and smoothed her skirt down over the top of her legs as she sat, watching on as he sat at the desk opposite.

“So what seems to be the problem, Mr. Olsen?” she prompted, as he shuffled through a stack of papers.

“Please, call me Joel,” he replied, seemingly finding the piece of paper he had been searching for. His eyebrows rose as he glanced over to her before dropping it back down on her desk.

“What seems to be the problem?” he repeated her question. “Mrs. Green, ahh . . . I mean Ms. Carrillo, I have concerns about Austin. Now, I understand you haven’t been in town all that long, and there are issues,” he paused momently on the word, “with your . . . Austin’s dad.”

Callie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was none of his business what issues she had with her ex-husband, and she wasn’t about to share with Mr. Olsen.

“Anyway,” the teacher went on, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I’m concerned that Austin’s grades are slipping, and he has not handed in any of his homework for the past several weeks. Grace, on the other hand, is always very studious. Now, I know that adolescent boys can be difficult, and I wonder if it’s due to a lack of a permanent male figure in the house. Not that I have anything against single parents, some single parents are the best I’ve known. I know you’ve been out there on your own for some time. I just don’t think it’s good for kids to have pseudo-parents pop in and out of their lives. When I was at university, I did a study on single parents who . . .”

Anger bubbled in Callie’s chest. “With all due respect, Mr. Olsen,” she spat out sharply. “I don’t see how our family situation has anything to do with you. Austin’s grades might be slipping, but you are his teacher.”

“Well, honestly, Mrs. Green,” he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, “do you think it’s appropriate for you to have drifters in and out of the children’s lives?”

“Drifters?” she almost shouted the word. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Grace mentioned you had a man staying with you and . . . ” he trailed off, his hands reaching for the pieces of paper he’d had earlier.

“Again, how exactly is that any of your business?”

“My only concern is for my students, Mrs. Green.” She cringed again at the use of her married name. “Austin has not been himself lately. He used to be one of my best students, and just lately, things have been quite off. Out of concern for him, I asked Grace what was happening at home that could cause Austin’s school work to be falling behind, and she said . . .”

“She told you about the worker we have helping us to prepare the rodeo? Would you have me do all the work alone? I run a business, Mr. Olsen. It keeps meals on the table for Grace and Austin.