Page 36 of Cowboy Daddies

“I have plenty,” Junie said. “I have some of the chocolate ones you like so much, too.”

“Junie is donating the treats for the festival,” Fiera said, “and Joy is volunteering as our photographer. Thanks for waiting. Sage is here to talk to Mrs. Hargrove.”

“Oh, she’s so sweet,” Joy said. “I did some photography for her last year.”

“Really, do you have any shots with you? I’d love to see some of your work.” Sage asked, thinking maybe some pictures of Rose would be nice.

“Oh, um… I’m afraid not,” Joy looked a little embarrassed. “I specialize in boudoir photography, so I can’t show my work without permission. But if you’d like to book a session, I’ll let Chance know when you’re headed to Wild River Ranch. I’m sure he’d love to talk ranch business with Grady.”

“I will definitely want to see your studio sometime,” Junie joked, sparking a round of laughter.

“That’s right, you’re with Chance out at the Wild River Ranch, aren’t you?” Sage asked.

“Yep, and it’s been great. How about you? I know the last time we talked, you were looking for a Daddy. Have you found one yet?”

Fiera gave Sage a friendly shoulder bump. “Go ahead, Sage, tell them.”

Could her face get any more scarlet? Sage fought the urge to cover her cheeks with her hands. “Well, I’m currently in a relationship with Grady.”

“Grady Kane?” Junie’s eyes opened wide. She leaned in conspiratorially, “You go, girl, he is a hunk. Talk about your workplace romance.”

Sage really didn’t want to explain or go into depth about that, right now. It was only temporary, after all. She nervously looked at her watch. Fifteen minutes past her appointment time. She couldn’t wait any longer. “It’s been really nice seeing you all, and Junie, I’ll be coming by for some of those chocolate croissants soon for the ranch, but I really need to get back and talk to Mrs. Hargrove.”

“Girls, you stay here, I’ll walk Sage back to her classroom,” Fiera said.

Mrs. Hargrove’s door still stood open, and Sage could still hear two voices inside. The woman with Mrs. Hargrove was still talking, though it sounded obvious that Mrs. Hargrove was trying hard to end the conversation. Lucky for her, Sage could help with that.

Stepping just outside the doorway, she found Mrs. Hargrove with an older woman, whom Sage didn’t recognize. They seemed to be chatting. Well, the older woman was chatting. Mrs. Hargrove was mostly grimacing.

Sage was just about to insist on her appointment when the older woman’s words hit her.

“…that poor Grady,” the older woman was saying, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “His girl hasn’t spoken a word in years, not that she wasn’t odd before that. And now he’s brought in some specialty nanny to indulge her even more. The child just needs a good smack and less of this molly-coddling nonsense. Spare the rod, spoil the child. That’s what I always say.”

Sage froze in the doorway, her hackles raised. Surely there must be some other Grady with a daughter who didn’t speak because Sage knew that woman wasn’t talking about her Rose.

Mrs. Hargrove’s face showed the same shock Sage felt, and she made a noncommittal sound. The other woman, who could have easily played the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz, kept going. “You mark my words, that child will end up just like her mama. Not a real thought running through her head. A real dreamer, that one was.”

Rage blanketed Sage’s vision. How dare that old heifer say such horrible things about Rosie? Much less about her dead mother? Just who did she think she was?

“Sage, wait!” Fiera made a vain attempt to hold Sage back before she burst into the room. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Not when someone was talking smack about her girl.

“Excuse me,” Sage said, her voice shaking with fury. “I don’t know who you think you are, but if I had to guess, it would be the village idiot. Because it’s plain you don’t know what the heck you’re talking about.”

Sage could hear Fiera groan behind her. So much for good first impressions.

The witch gaped at Sage but recovered quickly. “Well, I never!”

“Never what? Had any decent home training? Never learned the basic rules of common decency? I got that.”

The woman’s chest swelled and fire glowed in her beady eyes. “Do you know who I am?” she demanded.

Sage was done with this crone. “Don’t know. Don’t care. You’re talking about a child who has been through more in her short life than you could possibly imagine. And the idea that you could say such things makes you completely unfit for anything outside of a padded cell.” Sage had never experienced such pure rage. “But if you have a brain cell left in that thick, ugly skull of yours, focus it on this. If I ever hear you suggest laying a hand on my girl again, I’ll show you exactly what it means to be smacked.”

Mrs. Hargrove’s eyes widened. “Miss Cartwright, I⁠—”

“No,” Sage cut in. Stepping closer, she pointed at the woman who now wore scarlet patches of color high on her cheeks. “She doesn’t get to talk about my Rosie like she’s broken. Rose is as smart as a whip. She’s kind. She’s generous and full of joy. And she’s talking by the way.”

The older woman kept her scarlet patches of fury, but the rest of her face went pale. Good, maybe Sage had shocked some sense into her.