Romance: Seducing The Quarterback (39 page)

By: Erin Walsh

The Luckiest Cowboy

© Erin Walsh, 2015 – All rights reserved

Published by Steamy Reads4U

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any
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publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles
or reviews.

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, businesses,
places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s
imagination or used in a fictitious manner.  Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental.  This book is
licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

This book may not be resold or given away to other people. 
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Warning

This book contains explicit content intended for readers 18+
years old.

If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with
adult content, please close this book now.

“Stop fidgeting,” Kate tugged on Jonathan’s hand. The
seven-year-old put his other hand down by his side and stared at the bustle of
people on the train platform.

Kate kneeled down next to her son. “Look, I know you don’t
want to be here, but we have to do this. This is the only way I can keep you
with me. I know you loved Kansas, but we can’t afford to keep living there. Mr.
White has agreed to help us. You need to be nice to him, okay. Do it for your
mom, okay?” Jonathan nodded and clutched his teddy bear.

Sacramento was much warmer than Kansas City this time of
year. It was only April, but the thermometer on the side of the station read 85
degrees. “It’s hot here,” Kate fanned herself with her train tickets and smiled
at her son. “This suit was a bad idea,” she thought. The worsted wool traveling
suit she wore started to stick to her slip in the heat.

A man dressed in a light gray suit and blue tie approached
her on the platform. Kate reached into her purse and pulled out a black and
white photo of a man. It matched the man walking toward them.

“Kate?” the man asked as he reached the mother and son.

“Yes. Michael White?” Kate searched his face.

“Yes. So lovely to meet you in person! And I assume this is
Jonathan?” Michael indicated the boy.

“Yes. This is my son Jonathan. Jonathan, say “hi” to Mr.
White,” Kate instructed her son.

“Hello Mr. White.” Jonathan’s voice was small.

Michael squatted down and shook Jonathan’s hand. “Nice to
meet you Jonathan. Your mom has told me you are a wonderful boy. I am looking
forward to getting to know you.” Jonathan just stared back at the man shaking
his hand.

“Is this all your luggage?” Michael looked at the array of
bags around the two passengers.

“Yes, this is it.” Kate said. Michael signaled a porter. A
young Hispanic man came over with a luggage cart. He loaded the two trunks, two
duffle bags, and a box onto the cart.

The foursome walked through the station to the front.
Michael guided them to the large Chevy Deluxe. He opened the trunk and porter
began to load the luggage. “Put the duffels in the back seat,” Michael
instructed. He opened the doors of the car. When the porter finished loading
the bags, Michael tipped him and the three got into the car.

“Are you two hungry?” Michael asked.

“Yes, a bit. We ate breakfast on the train at eight this
morning,” Kate looked back at Jonathan who was clutching his bear on his lap.

“I know a good place near the Capitol.” Michael guided the
Chevy down Third and turned onto L Street. They parked outside a small diner on
the corner of Tenth Street. “Johnson’s is pretty good.”

The three sat in a booth at Johnson’s. Jonathan stared out
the window. “I am so happy to finally meet you in person. I feel like I know
you both already.” Michael smiled.

Kate looked back at him. Despite a year of correspondence,
she felt like she was forcing conversation with a stranger. She held back
tears. Guilt welled up. Matthew had died five years ago but sitting across from
this new man, Kate longed to be looking back at her true love. She believed
Michael was a good man, but there was no love for him. This was survival for
her.

“I am glad we are here,” Kate forced a smile. “I am grateful
for you.” This second part was true. Without Michael’s proposal, Kate would
have had to put Jonathan in an orphanage and found some very undesirable way to
support herself in Kansas.

The waitress came over and the three ordered lunch. Kate
fidgeted with her napkin in her lap. Jonathan remained preoccupied with his
bear, not looking at either adult.

“Where is your house from here?” Kate asked.

“Orangevale is about an hour north and east from here. It’s
a cute town. I think you and Jonathan will like it.” Michael smiled at
Jonathan. The child stared at his food, not looking up.

“I have made arrangements for us.” Michael continued,
looking at Kate.

Kate shook her head “No.” “Can we talk about this in
private?” Kate asked.

“Of course.” Michael sipped his coffee.

“How old are you,” Jonathan looked at the man across the
table.

“Jonathan!” Kate scolded.

“It’s okay. I’m 50.” Michael answered.

“Oh.” Jonathan thought the Michael looked ancient. His grey
hair and the grey suit, along with the crow’s feet around his eyes made him
look as old as Jonathan’s grandfather. “How do you know my mom?”

Michael looked Kate for help. “Like I told you before,
Michael is a family friend. He has agreed to help us out since Daddy died in
the war.” Kate lied. She didn’t think it was appropriate to tell her son that
she had answered an ad in the paper for a man looking for a bride.

Michael smiled at Jonathan. Jonathan looked back and pulled
his bear into his chest.

“What is your bear’s name?” Michael asked.

“Simon.” Jonathan stroked the bear’s head.

The three finished their lunch and little small talk.
Michael paid the check and the three walked back to the car.

The Chevy pulled into the driveway of the two-story house.
Two large orange trees and several camellia bushes filled the large front yard.
A rope swing hung from one of the orange trees.

“Home, sweet home,” Michael proclaimed as he turned off the
engine. “Let’s go in and get settled. I will bring the bags in the house
later.”

When Michael opened the door and Kate stepped in, she stood
in the foyer and took in her new home. It was simple, but not without its
charms. Michael had nice furniture and a television in the front room. There
was a lack of photos or anything on the walls. A cross breeze through the
windows cooled the living room. “Nice,” Kate smiled at Michael.

“Let me show you the rest.” Michael led the two strangers
through the kitchen, dining room, den and then upstairs to the bedrooms. There
were three. The smallest one had been painted light blue and had a small twin
bed. Wooden letters spelling out J-O-N-A-T-H-A-N hung along one wall. “This is
your room,” Michael swept his are wide and looked at Jonathan for acceptance.

“Thanks,” Jonathan said.

They walked down the hall, “This is the master bedroom.”
Michael opened the door to a large room. There was a double bed with a quilt in
the middle of the room. Two night tables flanked the bed, a large, heavy
dresser lined a wall, and the closet was cracked slightly open. Kate scanned
the room. “And the other one?” she asked.

“I use it as a guest room occasionally.” Michael walked down
the hall. “Bathroom is here,” he pointed out on the way.

Kate swallowed. The guest room was not made up. This meant
Michael was assuming that they would sleep in the same bed starting tonight.
They hadn’t discussed this in their letters. They had talked about other
things: How Matthew was killed in the war, how Kate struggled to support her
and Jonathan, how Michael had never married, how they were both lonely, Kate’s
fears that she would have to put Jonathan in an orphanage if she couldn’t find
financial help, how Michael had wanted a wife but never met the right girl. But
they hadn’t talked about sleeping arrangements or sex.

“Can you get the bags? I want to change.” Kate asked. She
would get them herself, but lifting the trunks in her suit and heels would be
difficult, at best.

“Of course,” Michael descended the stairs and opened the
front door. Kate stood in the upstairs hallway, just looking at thing.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Jonathan whispered.

“Of course, sweetie. It’s right there.” Kate indicated the
bathroom in the hall. Jonathan closed the door.

Michael reached the landing carrying the two duffle bags. He
walked right into the Master bedroom and set them on the floor. “I have cleared
three drawers in the dresser for you. There is also space in the closet.” He
exited to get the trunks.

Kate sat on the bed and took off her heels. Stress flowed
from her body. She had been in those heels for three days on the train from
Kansas. She rubbed her feet on the rag tied rug. Michael entered the room with
a trunk. He set it at the foot of the bed. He was sweating. “Thank you. The
other trunk and the box have Jonathan’s belongings,” Kate smiled weakly.

“Okay. I will bring them up for him.” Michael puffed and
wiped his brow. They heard the toilet flush down the hall. Jonathan appeared.
“I will have your stuff in your room in just a minute, buddy.” Michael smiled
at him then walked back downstairs.

Jonathan came in to the master bedroom and hugged his
mother. “It’s okay,” Kate stroked his head. “This will take some getting used
to, but Michael is a good man. He will take care of us.” Kate stroked her son’s
hair, trying to comfort him as much as herself.

When she heard Michael set the trunk in Jonathan’s room,
Kate stood up. “Go get changed,” she instructed. Jonathan walked back to his
new room. Kate closed the door and opened a duffle bag. She dug around looking
for a housedress. She pulled one out and laid it on the bed. She took off her
traveling jacket, unbuttoned her blouse, and slipped out of her skirt. She
stood there in her slip, sticking to her hips and breasts with sweat.

There was a soft knock on the door. “I’m changing.”

“Can I come in?” Michael’s voice was soft.

“Just a minute, please.” Kate pulled off her slip and pulled
on the housedress. She ran her fingers through her hair. “Come in.”

Michael entered. “You are more beautiful than the photos you
sent.” He said as he stood there admiring his new bride. “I brought you a glass
of water.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you for both.” Kate smiled sincerely
for the first time since arriving in Sacramento. She took the hobnailed glass
and sipped the water. It was cold and tasted wonderful in this heat. “Thank
you.”

Michael smiled. “I assume you and Jonathan might need a bit
of rest before dinner. You have had a long journey.”

“Yes, that would be nice.” Kate was relieved. It was
overwhelming to meet Michael in person, see the new city she would be living
in, move into a new house and try and keep herself together in front of her
son.

“I will leave you be.” Michael said. He took the empty glass
and closed the door behind him.

Kate hung up her traveling suit in the closet. She crossed
the room and sat on the bed. This was her new life. This meant Matthew must
really be gone. She had received the Army’s telegram four years, seven months,
and five days ago. It said Matthew had been killed in Japan while fighting for
his country. The Army did not have the body to return because of the way he
died, but they left details vague. She had a flag and a telegram from her
country as a thank you for her husband’s service.

She held a funeral six weeks after the telegram arrived. A
picture of Matthew sat on an empty coffin. His service was praised. She sat in
the front row, dressed in black, holding Jonathan on her lap. She listened to
the eulogy. It didn’t seem real. There was no body. There was no one to bury.
It couldn’t be real.

The military was supposed to provide a small payment for
Matthew’s death, but it had been delayed. There was some confusion about social
security numbers. His death certificate had been delayed because there was no
body. Proving she was a war widow became difficult. Eight months after she
received the telegram a check showed up in the mail. They had printed the wrong
name: Matthew G. Summers. Her husband was Matthew Summers, no middle name. The
bank didn’t argue with the extra G when she cashed the check. She needed the
money and didn’t want to fight for another eight months to get the “G” deleted.

That pension carried her and Jonathan for two years. She
found ways to stretch her funds: planted a small garden for fresh vegetables,
canned for the winter months, took a part-time job at the local diner in town
to help pay bills. It hadn’t been enough. Three and a half years after her
husband died the money ran too short.

Her mother had passed a decade before. Her father lived in
the home for veterans from the first war, surviving on the small pension from
the government. She had no siblings. Her husband’s family had become distant
since Matthew’s death. She had run out of options.

One afternoon after her shift at the diner, she stopped by
the local VFW and picked up a paper. In the back there were advertisements from
men looking to marry war widows. She answered three of the ads. It felt
low-class and dirty to her but she couldn’t look for a husband in Avondale. The
men were friends of Matthew’s or her family. They knew she was a war widow. Any
marriage would be seen as an act of pity by the potential groom. She scanned
the war widow ads and selected men as far from Avondale as possible.

Traveling got the best of her. Kate lay down on the bed.
This felt like a betrayal to Matthew. She was lying on another man’s bed. A bed
she was supposed to share with someone who was not her husband. Tears ran
silently down her cheek. She drifted off to a fitful sleep.