A Son for the Texas Cowboy

by Sinclair Jayne

  And it hit her then that she’d treated Diego exactly like her father had treated her—as if she were nothing, voiceless, invisible. Her needs and wants had never mattered to her father.

  She hit the steering wheel with the flat of her hand. She was better than this. Diego needed her best. She parked near the ER and scanned for Axel’s big truck, gnawing on her lip.

  “Just a precaution,” she said.

  And then she remembered Catalina’s parting shot. “Go easy on him.”

  She wasn’t her father. She didn’t spank, slap or hit. But there would be consequences…as soon as she figured out what they were.

  And then Axel drove up to the front of the ER. She’d expected him to park so the fact that he practically drove inside freaked her out. She hurried to the truck. Axel was helping Diego out as a nurse greeted him.

  “We’ll take him in right away.”

  “Wait,” Cruz called out. “What is going on? Catalina said this was just a precaution. Axel…” Even she could hear the plea in her voice.

  His eyes met hers. She’d never seen him look bleaker. Closed down.

  “Don’t leave,” Diego demanded, tears welling in his eyes, and his hands clutched at Axel.

  Axel cupped the back of Diego’s head, and said something too softly for Cruz to hear.

  “I’m sorry. I said I was sorry,” Diego said. “I won’t do it again. I promise. I promise, Axel.”

  Cruz closed the distance. If her son was apologizing, it should be scaring her to death, but she was more frightened by something new in Axel—something she couldn’t quite define.

  The nurse wheeled Diego inside. Cruz was torn. She wanted to ask what had happened. But she needed to be with Diego. She touched Axel’s sleeve as she passed, surprised that it was soaked and caked with mud.

  “Thank you,” she said, not sure what she was thanking him for—helping her son or making the problem bigger.

  *

  “So?” Both August and Catalina stood up when she walked through the double doors to the waiting room twenty minutes later. She was looking for Axel, so it took her a moment to register that he wasn’t there. Catalina and August stood close together, August using Catalina almost as a crutch.

  She looked at both of them almost marveling. They had come to mean so much to her in such a short time, and obviously Diego had deeply touched their hearts. Despite the scare, her heart swelled, and tears pricked her eyes.

  “He’s fine. He’s getting some antibiotics, just to make sure there won’t be a problem. We don’t know how much river water he swallowed. He’s thrown up several times, and the water was quite dirty. But I can take him home.”

  “That’s good.” Catalina blew out a quick breath. She hugged August and then looked a bit shocked and moved off a little.

  “Good? It’s great. Let’s get out of here. I bet Diego’s hungry. I’ll grill and we got ice cream. Five flavors. I’m thinking sundaes,” August added.

  “Oh. Um.” Cruz paused. They didn’t know. “Diego will probably just go to bed. I think after all the drama… Well, he’s tired.”

  Where was Axel?

  “Okay,” August said, clearly seeing something was wrong, but not able to get a bead on it.

  “So, um, thank you,” Cruz said. “For coming. It wasn’t necessary. But thank you. I am sorry that you were inconvenienced. Catalina said you were in a meeting.”

  “You’re not thinking this is Axel’s fault?” August said bluntly.

  “No. Of course not.” She jammed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “Diego was angry and disappointed and defiant. I should have explained things to him better.” She could feel her defenses rising. She’d already gone through this with Axel. She didn’t want to have to defend herself with another Wolf brother.

  “Explained what?”

  “Not right now, August. God, you are as relentless as your brother. I’m going to just take Diego back to the hotel and have him rest. I’ll get some takeout and see you both later.”

  August rocked back on his heels, which clearly hurt because he winced. “Hotel?” he questioned flatly.

  “Yeah, Axel and I are taking a break.”

  “So, you do blame him.”

  The ice in August’s eyes chilled her to the bone.

  “Don’t do this to him. Don’t. He can’t go through this again.”

  “Again?”

  “You know we had another brother, Aurik.”

  “Yes. Axel told me about him when we were dating. He had a picture of the four of you in a photo collage in his trailer.”

  “He did?” A ghost of a smile lit August’s mouth but then it faded. “Did he tell you how he died?”

  “No, only that he was seven.”

  “He drowned,” August said flatly. “In Fury Creek, which had turned into a raging river. He died, right in front of Axel. Aurik hero-worshipped Axel. Followed him everywhere. One afternoon Axel wanted to sneak away to meet up with some friends. I was supposed to keep Aurik busy, but I didn’t. He followed Axel. Axel was pissed so he crossed the creek to lose him, and he did. Permanently. He never forgave himself. Never.”

  August’s recitation of the tragedy in that flat voice while his eyes churned with anger and guilt and something else she couldn’t name made the loss of their brother so much more vivid. Real in a way it had been history to her before. For Axel to watch his brother drown—to be so close, yet unable to help… It must have been a nightmare he could never escape.

  “But Diego didn’t drown,” Cruz said firmly. “He’s fine. Not even a concussion from hitting a rock. Just some scrapes and bruising. And he’s still coughing because he inhaled a fair bit of water.”

  “Axel got him out fast. He waded into the river, which nearly knocked him down,” Catalina said. “I was going to grab the lariat and throw it to him, but Axel already had it and snagged Diego around his leg.”

  Cruz’s eyes were round with horror. She hadn’t thought about the accident, hadn’t let herself picture it in her mind.

  “Axel was struggling after he got Diego out. He was brilliant during the rescue. But going through that again, even with a better result, really knocked him down. He always feels so responsible for everything and everyone. He’s going to feel that it’s his fault that Diego defied you and took the bus to the ranch instead of staying in town. He’s going to blame himself that he taught Diego to be so self-sufficient that he was able to saddle his own horse—that he gave Diego a horse to use at the ranch. All of it. And he’ll brood,” Catalina said, her musical voice passionate with concern.

  Cruz felt sick. Axel would blame himself. And she had blamed him too—not for the accident, but for being everything her son wanted. A father figure to admire, a cowboy, a patient man, for taking an interest in her son. She should have been celebrating their growing bond, but she could admit to herself, she’d started to resent it.

  Why?

  Because she’d been afraid.

  Why?

  Because she’d fallen under Axel’s spell even more so than Diego.

  She’d had a glimpse of the family life she’d always wanted—a man, a child, a home, family nearby. And she’d been afraid it would be taken away, which made sense, considering how she’d grown up. Her mother had walked away, keeping another child, a brother, a secret from her father and her. Her mother had punished her ex-husband by keeping the son he’d always wanted, who, in turn, punished her for being a girl. And then, she’d finally found her brother…and he’d been killed only months later.

  And then she’d fallen so deeply in love with Axel that she’d been unable to imagine a life without him, been willing to give up her dream career to be with him, but she’d been so frightened that he hadn’t loved her enough—wouldn’t be able to love her enough. She’d seen the lifestyle of the AEBR bull riders—the events, the parties, the women, the fans—and she’d been afraid she’d lose Axel just as she’d lost everyone else.

  Diego had been the only person who’d l
oved her unconditionally.

  And then he’d started to love Axel.

  And she’d been afraid.

  A mess. Her family life had been a mess.

  And Axel’s had been marred by tragedy.

  But they could make something good of it.

  She just needed courage.

  “I’ll come out to the ranch tonight,” she told them, feeling a little like she was stepping off a cliff. “I’ll get our things from the hotel and drive back out.”

  Nodding to them, Cruz scanned the parking lot one last time looking for Axel and then went back into the hospital to check Diego out. Her heart thudded with excitement and nerves. So much was undecided. Could she get a permanent job in Last Stand or would she have to commute to San Antonio or Austin? It was doable—not perfect, but not impossible. Was Axel really ready for a commitment? Was she?

  There was only one way to find out.

  “Courage,” she whispered under her breath. “Okay now. You’ve got this.”

  *

  “Hey, Mom.” Diego sat up on the exam table dressed in one of Axel’s slate-blue T-shirts that came past his knees. He played with a soggy length of rope that smelled like resin and mud. “Axel gave me his lariat. He lassoed me like I was a runaway bull. I even have rope burn on my leg.” He stuck out his skinny leg proudly for Cruz to see the pink circle of chafing, but she only had eyes for Axel sitting there. Remote as a Pacific atoll.

  Axel stood up from the chair, looking so good and so solemn her heart seemed to skip a beat and then flutter like mad. It felt as if all the oxygen in the room had been sucked out. His expression and body could be carved from granite.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed to him, knowing they needed to talk about so much, but not in front of Diego and not with an audience, because Axel was definitely receiving his fair share of admiring side looks from nurses and ER support staff.

  Axel seemed oblivious to all the female attention. His eyes were riveted on her.

  She opened her mouth but wasn’t sure what to say. I love you. I want you. Let’s get married.

  Geez, she needed to get her head examined. Just last night, she’d pushed him away. Now she wanted to press up against him and wrap her arms around his neck—damp and muddy clothes and all—and just kiss him until they both forgot who they were. She wanted his strength and warmth and just…sheer Axelness forever. How had she found the strength to walk away when she was twenty-one? And was she really so stupid that she’d do it again?

  Axel was her man. Her cowboy. And she decided right then in an ER cubicle, with her son making small tosses with the lariat to snag a trash bin and Axel looking bleak, that she was staying with him and in Last Stand forever.

  She was ready to fight.

  “He’s about to be released.” Axel finally spoke, and his voice seemed even lower and more gravelly than usual, almost as if it had been scraped up from the riverbed. “I’ll pick up his prescription. He needs to sleep with his torso elevated tonight. And no cough suppressants. He needs to cough.”

  Cruz knew that. But Axel didn’t know that she hoped they’d be watching over him together. He seemed so far away. Chilly. And empty as if he’d lost something in that raging creek. Perhaps he needed comfort more than Diego, more than she did, Cruz thought with a pang.

  Axel was so strong. So self-reliant. He asked for nothing. And maybe that’s why people gave him nothing. They took from him. Relied on his strength and kindness. She squared her shoulders. That was going to change. She was going to be a better partner to him. She’d vowed when she’d been given custody of Diego that she would be a better parent than her mother or father, and she had been. She could be a better partner—a better wife maybe—than her mother had ever been.

  Being a better version of herself just took determination. She had that. And courage. She had that, too. She’d lost confidence at times, but she just had to seize it back with both hands and hold tight.

  “My things are at the hotel. I thought we could talk if…” His stiff posture and the way he wouldn’t meet her eyes were seriously starting to scare her. She felt chilled as if he were freezing the warmth out of the room. “If you have time,” she finished softly.

  Had he changed his mind? Didn’t trust her? Didn’t want her? Had he decided Diego was too much trouble? It didn’t seem possible. He’d all but asked her to commit to him, had given her an engagement ring…

  That you never opened and left behind.

  Her stomach swirled, sickly, but she forced herself forward, even though for the first time since she’d gathered up her courage and asked Axel to dance at a post-rodeo steak dinner and dance, she was afraid of rejection. Cruz touched his hand. He didn’t move to take hers. She tried to push down the hurt.

  Maybe he was still in a bit of shock. Maybe he was angry that she was giving him mixed signals.

  He’d done the heavy emotional lifting since they’d re-met in that awful accident. Her turn now. She told herself to suck up it up. She was a fierce competitor and Axel was too important to lose.

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” she said.

  Axel nodded, then touched Diego briefly on the head and walked away. She couldn’t help watching him—the way he moved had always mesmerized her. Only now, there was a stiffness to his gait, not the fluid, rolling walk that had always made her swoony.

  She heard a couple of the nurses sigh. “That is one fine man,” one of them said.

  “You’ll never find a better one,” Cruz agreed and it sounded as much like a vow as a curse to her.

  *

  Cruz got to the hotel, and even though she wanted to pack up their belongings and commit to this next phase of her life, she wanted Diego to be comfortable. He seemed to have recovered from his ordeal, and even decided to take the lariat into the shower.

  “No roping me,” Cruz decreed. She sat on the bed and was surprised that her legs suddenly felt so weak. She could have lost her son today. It was finally hitting her. Through the room window, she saw Axel drive in and park his truck. He just sat in the cab for a moment. He must still be shaken. But if she let herself fall apart and think about what might have happened, it wouldn’t help either of them.

  She pocketed the key, pulled out something for Diego to wear and told him, through the closed door where he was singing at the top of his lungs between coughing jags, that she was just stepping outside.

  “Hi, how are you?” she said as Axel finally climbed out of his truck and headed toward her. “Other than wet and still a bit muddy.”

  His boots were probably ruined. But maybe not. All cowboys had several pairs of boots, some more pummeled by ranch life than others.

  “Cruz, I’m sorry.”

  “I know you are.” Her fingers brushed his hand. Usually his hands were so warm. She’d always loved that about him, how his hands had always felt warm and rough on her skin, but now they were cool, and he made no move to hold her hand.

  Damn.

  “But, Axel, what happened to Diego was in no way your fault.”

  “It was. I pushed you for a relationship. I got him interested in horses.”

  Cruz felt a chill sweep through her. “He was fascinated by horses long before you arrived on the scene. He’s wanted to ride and be a cowboy since he dressed up as one for Halloween when he was four. I kept him away from that life. I couldn’t face the thought of riding another horse after Misty River. That’s the truth. But there’s more. Horses didn’t make sense. We lived in the city and I didn’t have the money to indulge him when I was in school. But even now—” She broke off. “I’m finding it hard to open my heart to the idea of loving and caring for and training and riding another horse.”

  And opening my heart to you.

  He nodded.

  “Still, if I hadn’t interfered, if I hadn’t brought you to the ranch for selfish reasons, Diego would never have been in danger.”

  “That’s a lot of what ifs, Axel. Life just does what it’s going to do. Control is ultim
ately an illusion. If you hadn’t brought us to the ranch, maybe something terrible would have happened at one of the rental properties or on the road as I drove…”

  “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it.” He gripped her shoulders hard and pulled her against him. “You’re fine. You’re going to be fine. I’m going to keep you safe.”

  She wanted to relax into him, but it was like trying to cuddle up to a steel beam. He just seemed so tense. He was shaking a little.

  “Sorry. I’m holding you too hard. You’re right. Space is better for us.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “Today showed me that I should have stuck with my plan. It’s better to be alone.”

  “What?” she demanded again and her voice rose, and she didn’t even try to temper it. “You’re breaking up with me in a parking lot?”

  “We weren’t really together. You said that,” he said, his voice cool and in control, the opposite of what she was feeling. “I was being impulsive, caught up in the past. You said we needed to focus on the future.”

  “You’re breaking up with me and throwing my own words back at me?”

  “It’s not like that,” he said hastily.

  “It’s exactly like that,” she insisted.

  “You wanted space. I’m agreeing with you.”

  Somehow, it felt a whole lot different when he did it.

  “Ranches can be dangerous,” he said so calmly that she wanted to slap him. “Today was just one more reminder of that.”

  “Life can be dangerous, Axel. I was a barrel racer. You were a bull rider. We’re still here. Others aren’t. My brother was a soldier. He never came home.”

  She knew what he was doing. Saving her. Sacrificing himself. Taking on all the responsibility. She forced herself to breathe deep. Temper her words, but she could do nothing to stop the crazed flailing of her wounded and terrified heart.

  “Axel, I know what happened to your brother,” she said softly, taking his hand in hers and stroking his palm with her thumb. “August told me. I know today must have brought back so many memories.”

  He pulled his hand back and took a step away from her.

  “Then you know what it did to my family.”