Her Twins' Cowboy Dad

by Patricia Johns

  “It’s all about money, then?” she asked, casting him a sidelong look.

  “Most things are,” he said with a lift of his shoulders. “That’s how the world works.”

  “Contracts and money,” she said softly.

  “Hey, nothing lasts forever,” he said. “People die. Land gets sold.”

  “Memories do,” she said, turning toward him, her gaze glittering with suppressed emotion.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “Keep this strip of land because my cousin and I bonded out here?”

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “Money factors in, Jane,” he said sadly. “I have to pay you.”

  She stiffened, then nodded. “Right.”

  “I’m not blaming you for anything. You deserve to have a piece of this, okay? I’m just saying, I have to be practical.”

  Besides, what was he supposed to do, keep some shrine to old times with his cousin? Because Josh had been ignoring his efforts to make contact. Josh hadn’t been clinging to old memories. Whatever their relationship had meant to Colt, it hadn’t been the same for Josh.

  “I know I was wrong in how I handled things with your husband,” Colt said. “But he betrayed me, too. He walked away. He wouldn’t accept an apology. If he’d been willing to speak to me, I would have sorted something out with him. If he’d lived—”

  And going off and dying like that had felt like the last of the betrayals. When his cousin died, there ended any chance they had of reconnecting. It was over—and he’d died still hating Colt.

  “I’m rather ticked with him, too,” Jane said. “But you aren’t supposed to be angry with someone who dies, are you?”

  “I don’t know.” They came closer to the tree line and Colt reined in his horse. “Seems to me it’s natural to be a bit angry. We’re the ones who have to go on without him.”

  Jane reined in her horse, too, and they looked at each other in silence for a few beats.

  “You’re the only one I can talk to about this who really gets it,” she said.

  “You’ve got to lose someone you really loved in order to understand it,” he said.

  “He could be hard to love,” she murmured. “He wouldn’t let you in close.”

  “He was like that,” he agreed quietly. “Pushed people off when he was hurt.”

  She smiled faintly. “Was he always so difficult?”

  “You have no idea.”

  And yet, that stubborn idiot had been Colt’s best friend growing up, and when he left the ranch and cut them off, he’d torn out a piece of Colt’s heart, too. It hadn’t been a regular argument between cousins—this one had been a permanent goodbye.

  And all because of money, he realized bitterly. All because of land.

  Josh had taken his inheritance for granted, and he’d never known how much Colt wanted this land for himself. Colt had ridden herd, delivered calves, stayed up late and gotten up before dawn without once being hounded into it by anyone because this had been his chance to do what he loved—work as a cowboy. So when his uncle was willing to change that will, what was Colt supposed to do? It hadn’t been about Colt’s worthiness so much as Josh’s lazy attitude toward the ranch work. Given a few years, Colt had fully expected his uncle to change that will again.

  And still, Colt had refused to go to Uncle Beau and smooth him over again for Josh. Because Josh didn’t deserve it, and God forgive him, Colt still stood by that. Josh’s only claim on this land had been through the DNA in his blood, and not through his own sweat.

  Colt cleared his throat. “Let’s get the girls some lunch, huh?”

  They dismounted, and the next few minutes were spent letting the toddlers run around, getting their picnic lunch spread out on a blanket. The horses wouldn’t wander far, and he let them graze on their own. The little girls were hungry and sat right down to eat their lunch without any wandering off.

  As Colt swallowed the last bite of his roast beef sandwich, his gaze moved toward the trees again. It didn’t look the same as it did seventeen years ago. The opening that had been there before had grown over.

  “I’m going to find the tree house,” Colt said, brushing off his hands and standing up, “and then I’ll bring you over.”

  “Sure,” she said with a smile. “I don’t dare take my eyes off these two. You go.”

  The toddlers were looking tired, and when Jane patted the blanket, they both laid their heads down then popped back up again. She patted it again, and down went those little curly ginger heads once more. This might take a bit, he realized.

  So Colt headed into the treed area and turned in a full circle. It had been so long since he’d been out here, and yet he felt like he could shut his eyes and pinpoint the spot.

  He tramped west about twenty yards, and then he spotted a huge stump he recognized. It was more overgrown than he remembered, and several saplings now grew from the center, but it was the same. Then he looked up.

  The tree house wasn’t quite as high as he remembered, but it was there. The carefully constructed floor that was nearly flat—they’d been proud of that. A rope ladder that used to hang down was now just one piece of rope with a knot in the end. The elements had taken their toll on the structure, but it was still intact. They’d said they were building this tree house to survive a tornado, but it had made it through seventeen years of neglect, and that was almost as impressive.

  He picked up the remnant of rope and gave it a tug. It seemed pretty solid. They’d left a few things up there, and he was curious to know how much remained. So he grabbed the rope and one of the lower branches, and started to climb.

  As his boots hit the wooden floor, he gave a little stamp, testing the strength. It had held up well, and he turned in a circle, looking around himself. He was high enough that he could see through some patchy trees toward the grass where the horses grazed and Jane sat on the blanket, the toddlers both with heads on her lap. He paused, looking at how the sun made her dark hair shine in glossy waves. She was looking down at her children, and there was something in her posture that made his heart soften.

  When he sold this piece of land, it would benefit her, and that made this worth it. She needed more support. Josh was gone... It wasn’t like Colt had a family looking to him, nor would he ever. And he wondered if he could do a little more for her than simply buy her out for the cattle.

  Not that she’d let him, he realized. Who was he fooling? Just because the sight of her made him feel things he shouldn’t didn’t mean she felt the same.

  He turned his attention back to the tree house and rummaged around until he came up with a metal box he recognized. He pried it open and sorted through a collection of a few baseball cards, some polished rocks, an old report card that Josh hadn’t wanted to show to his parents...

  Colt smiled, his eyes misting.

  “Back when our biggest problem was bad grades,” he muttered to himself. That was one thing they had in common—neither of them had been great in school.

  Underneath the report card was a set of dog tags, and he pulled them out. He couldn’t remember where Josh had stumbled across these. A secondhand store, maybe? But he’d brought them up to the tree house, and they’d talked about becoming soldiers. For Colt it was just make believe. For Josh, it had been more.

  At the very bottom of the box was another piece of paper, and Colt didn’t recognize it until he’d unfolded it completely.

  “The Good Cowboy.”

  It was a piece he’d had to memorize for church one year, and he’d been a nervous wreck. He hated speaking in front of people, and he’d brought that page up here to practice with his cousin.

  It was a rewriting of the twenty-third psalm, describing God as the Good Cowboy instead of the Good Shepherd. It just made more sense to folks out here who raised cattle. God was like a cowboy who went after that lost calf, who shot wolves
who tried to attack them, who led the cattle to the lushest valleys where they could graze undisturbed. God was the Good Cowboy who sang lonesome ballads at night, a gun over his knee and his watchful eye ever on the herd. He still remembered a few lines from it—that was how hard he’d memorized this old piece.

  Colt straightened and looked through the trees again in time to see Jane looking around. He waved, and she spotted him then stood up, shading her eyes. The girls both seemed to be resting. They were both on their sides, their legs tangled together, but still.

  She waved again, and he looked down at the box in his hands. She might want some of these trinkets. Maybe they’d mean something to her.

  * * *

  Jane saw Colt disappear from view, and she stood there on the blanket, waiting. After a couple of minutes she turned back to the girls again.

  They’d both fallen asleep, but not too deeply. They might not sleep for long, but they’d be more cooperative with full stomachs and some rest.

  A rustle in the trees drew her gaze, and she saw Colt coming out. He took his hat off and slapped it against his thigh as he approached, walking with the easy confidence of a man used to working outdoors. He held something under one arm that she couldn’t quite make out.

  “They’re sleeping, are they?” he said when he came up.

  “For a little bit. Trust me. This will make everything easier.”

  “I believe you.” He smiled and those warm, dark eyes met hers for a beat.

  “What’s that?” She looked down at the box in his hands.

  “Just a few of our treasures from back in the day.” He opened it and passed her a piece of paper. “That’s Josh’s report card.”

  She scanned the grades—two Cs, a D and an F. “He hid it, then?” she asked with a small smile.

  “Yep. He knew his dad would be mad.”

  Jane looked toward the trees again. This had been where her husband had grown up. She’d seen a handful of pictures from his childhood that his cousins had posted online—kids standing together, squinting into summer sunlight in front of giant bales of hay or at a birthday party wearing party hats and holding cupcakes... He’d always just been a kid in a group, but out here, it was different. This was the place that meant so much to him, that he wouldn’t really talk about besides saying that treehouse was their masterpiece...

  But she couldn’t go see it yet—not until the girls were awake.

  “You want to sit down?” he asked, and he nodded toward a fallen tree a couple of yards off. It was close enough to the sleeping toddlers that she could keep an eye on them, but their voices wouldn’t disturb them.

  “Sure.” She followed him over, and they sat down, side by side in the cool of the shade. She could feel the warmth of his leg close to hers, and she was grateful for it as a cooling breeze picked up and made her shiver. She looked toward the girls, who seemed comfortable in the warm sunlight.

  “Can I see it?” she asked, nodding toward the box.

  Colt hesitated for a second, then he passed it to her. It would be his personal memories, too, she realized. She sifted through the contents, her fingers lingering on a polished stone.

  “He mentioned that box,” she said softly. “He was still half convinced these baseball cards might be worth something.”

  “They aren’t, but you’re welcome to keep them,” Colt said.

  Jane gathered them up in one hand and looked down at them. Her husband had had so many memories on this ranch, and yet he’d never wanted to bring her here...

  “Are you really angry with him, still?” she asked quietly.

  “Yep. I am.” But his voice sounded tight, and when she looked over at him, she saw mist in his eyes.

  “What happened?” she asked quietly. “All I know is that Beau changed his will, and Josh had enough. He’d never been the son that Beau wanted. Josh said that his dad had been more proud of you than he’d ever been of him—”

  “That’s not exactly what happened,” Colt said, his voice low.

  “Then what?” she pressed.

  “He—” Colt turned toward her, his expression grim. “He asked me to go tell Beau I didn’t want to be in the will. I couldn’t do it.”

  “The money?” she said, her stomach sinking. Had it really come down to cash, as Josh had said? Coming out here, meeting Colt herself, she’d seen a different man than that but maybe she’d just been naive.

  “The money?” Colt barked out a bitter laugh. “No! Josh didn’t want this, Jane. He thought it was boring, and he wanted excitement. For years I worked this ranch in his place. He was always too busy—cadets, school football, girlfriends—” He stopped. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “He was too busy with everything else,” Colt went on. “And I did the chores. I did morning chores and evening chores. I worked by the hour and helped my mom make ends meet. I did it because I loved it, and also because I needed to contribute at home, make sure that us staying in the in-law suite downstairs wasn’t a waste to my uncle and aunt. And my uncle really valued my contribution. I was up in the morning ten minutes before he was. Josh had to be threatened and cajoled to do even the basic stuff. He said it didn’t matter. He’d be the boss, so he’d be supervisory, anyway.”

  Jane winced at that. Josh had mentioned a couple of those sentiments to her, too. He hadn’t liked ranching—he’d been clear about that.

  “Thing is, I had a single mom,” Colt said. “I didn’t have the same chances he did, and when my uncle told me he’d rather leave the ranch to me in his will because he knew that I’d actually run the place, I—” He heaved a sigh. “I was grateful.”

  “I could understand gratefulness,” she said.

  “Yeah. I mean, when else was I going to have a shot at owning a ranch? I could work one no problem, and I’d made my peace with that. At least I’d be doing the work I loved, but to have a chance to own it? It was something I hadn’t even dared to dream about.”

  “Until then...”

  “Until then.” He nodded. “And once you let yourself imagine something, it’s hard to back off again.”

  “And Josh wanted you to give it up,” she concluded.

  “I should have,” Colt said, turning away again. “I should have told Beau that it wasn’t worth tearing apart the family over. I mean look at me—do I look like I’ve made my peace with any of this? But I didn’t. All I could hear was my cousin demanding that I give up this chance at more than I’d ever imagined—actually having a stake in this place after all those years of work. I felt like I deserved it.”

  “You probably did,” she conceded.

  “Ah, but Josh did, too. For other reasons. He was born to it. I couldn’t compete with that.”

  “If Josh had lived...” she began quietly. “Would you have changed your mind about that? I mean, with a little more time to think it over?”

  Colt looked at her, his eyes clouded. “You mean, would I have handed the land over to him to make him happy?” He shook his head. “A ranch is more than a business, Jane. It sinks into a man’s heart. It puts down roots. I’m sorry. I know how this makes me look.”

  “It makes you look honest,” she said. “You could have told me anything else. You didn’t have to admit that.”

  “Honest...” He reached over and took her hand. “For what it’s worth.”

  It was worth more than he realized. This kind of honesty was what she’d been looking for in her marriage and had never found. She’d just wanted her husband to open up to her, trust her with whatever was going on inside him.

  “Colt,” she said, turning toward him. “You’re a good man, you know.”

  “You think?” He squeezed her fingers gently. “I’m not so sure.”

  “You were two stubborn men butting heads.” She shrugged weakly. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

  Colt m
et her gaze. “There are consequences, though. And I had no idea how far it would go.”

  “He would have gotten the cattle, and you would have worked with him,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re a good man.”

  The pain in his eyes tugged at her heart. He looked so alone, so filled with grief and self-reproach. She wanted to make him feel better, and holding his hand didn’t seem like quite enough. He turned away from her, leaning his elbows on his knees, and without thinking she leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

  His gaze flicked at her as she leaned in, and he turned toward her. She froze—this hadn’t been her intention, exactly, but as his dark gaze enveloped her, he reached out and put a callused hand against her cheek.

  “Colt, I—” She was going to explain, but the words evaporated on her tongue and he leaned in closer, his mouth a whisper away from hers.

  “You what?” he breathed.

  She didn’t answer him, and his mouth came down onto hers in a kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips moved over hers slowly, tenderly. The day seemed to evaporate around them, leaving her alone, his fingers tracing her jaw and his breath tickling her cheek. She could have pulled back at any moment—he certainly wasn’t holding her there—but she didn’t want to. When he pulled away, she sucked in a breath, feeling heat rush to her face.

  “I didn’t mean to do that,” she said quickly, her gaze moving over to her sleeping daughters out of instinct and mild embarrassment. Of all the things for her daughters to see her do...

  “I did,” he said, his voice low and soft. “So blame me.”

  He reached for her hand again and twined his fingers through hers. His palm was rough and strong, and she looked down at their fingers, mostly as a way to avoid looking him in the eye after that kiss.

  “We shouldn’t be doing that,” she breathed. “Neither of us want a relationship—”

  “I know,” he said, and he tugged her against his strong shoulder. “Chalk it up to all the things I shouldn’t have done. But this one I’m not sorry for.”