Rancher's Son

by Leigh Duncan

  Jimmy looped his fingers over a board. His mouth gaped open as he stared through the opening between the slats. Ty braced for questions. When they didn’t come, he shrugged and joined the boy at the rail.

  Against one wall, the tiny calf nuzzled its adoptive mom. At first, all Ty saw were the differences between the tawny youngster and the dark brown Andalusian with its flat chest and stubby horns. Loose folds of skin hung from the little one’s neck. They would eventually develop into a heavy Brahman dewlap. But instead of flopping down like those of Jar Jar Binks in Star Wars, the calf’s ears perked up like those of every other cow on the Circle P.

  Ty swallowed a curse. The calf’s parentage couldn’t be more obvious.

  “She’s real pretty,” Jimmy whispered.

  Pretty was not the word Ty would have chosen, but he figured in this case the old adage about beauty being in the eye of the beholder held true.

  “Why is she in with that other mama cow?” Jimmy stared up at him, wonder at the newborn still etched on his face. “Where’s Lacy?”

  Ty took a deep breath. Much as he hated to be the bearer of bad news, sometimes being a parent meant exactly that. Squatting in front of the boy, he gazed into Jimmy’s trusting brown eyes. “I’m afraid Lacy got very sick after the calf was born. She was an old cow. Too old to have a baby. And she died.”

  “She’s not here?” Jimmy’s searching gaze took in the entire barn. At last, his eyes met Ty’s again. “Is she in heaven with my mom?”

  Ty swallowed. He was a cattleman, not a philosopher. He gave the boy the best answer he could find. “Yeah, pardner, I guess she is.”

  Jimmy shrugged his thin shoulders in a gesture far too adult for a five-year-old. “My mom will look out for Lacy. She needs a friend while she’s up there and I’m here.”

  Ty’s throat tightened and he bobbed his head, unable to find even the simplest of words. For a while, they watched the calf and her adoptive mom in silence. Jimmy poked a couple of pieces of hay into the stall, trying to tempt the baby closer without any luck. According to Seth, the Andalusian had taken to the newborn right away. Blood might be everything to some, but it obviously didn’t affect this pair, and Ty was struck at how easily the two had bonded.

  He forced his gaze from the nursing calf to Jimmy and back again, then rubbed his eyes as the last niggling doubts about the boy faded into nothingness. Though Sarah was certain he was Jimmy’s father, Ty was just as certain he wasn’t. But in the grand scheme of things, what did it matter? Whether he had created the child or not, he’d be a real dad to the boy. He cleared his throat.

  “Time for lunch?” he asked. “I could get into a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

  Jimmy rubbed his stomach. “Me, too.” On their way out of the barn, the little boy tipped his head. “Mr. Ty?”

  “Yeah, pardner?”

  “I’m glad the calf found a new mom.”

  Ty blinked at a sudden dampness at the corners of his eyes. “Me, too, little man,” he whispered. “Me, too.”

  He scanned the road that would bring Sarah back to the Circle P, back to his arms, back to the little boy who needed a mom as well as a dad. No matter how hard he stared, not so much as a smudge marred the horizon above an endless stretch of flat land. Convinced Sarah wasn’t going to arrive at the ranch anytime soon, he crossed his fingers, hoping things had gone well for her in Fort Pierce. What she was doing there, he wasn’t quite sure. Her abrupt departure in the middle of the herd’s arrival in Kissimmee had left too little time for questions. He supposed whatever had come up at the DCF office was keeping her busy. Too busy to return the messages he’d left on her cell phone.

  He shrugged aside a nagging uncertainty. Had she realized that a future with him wasn’t what she wanted after all? Had she decided, like Millie, that life on the ranch would be too boring, too isolated? He shook his head. Sarah wasn’t Millie. She’d promised to return to the Circle P by nightfall. And before her arrival there were things to do, a little boy to feed and potting soil to buy for the greenhouse he intended as her welcome home present.

  Chapter Twelve

  While Jimmy lingered over lunch to tell Doris all about the new calf, Ty excused himself. A small mountain of mail had piled up while he was busy with the cattle drive. It demanded his attention. In the den, he sorted the advertisements and fliers from the bills. Those he dealt into separate stacks. One for feed and the vet’s services. Household expenses into another. Halfway through, his eyes narrowed at an envelope from an unfamiliar lab. It took a second for understanding to register.

  The paternity test results. Had to be.

  Reaching for the letter opener, he sank slowly into his chair. A single sheet of paper slid out of the envelope. He fanned it open on the desk. And stared.

  He’d seen enough DNA tests on horses and cows to know immediately that something was off. Sure enough, the results stared up at him from the bottom of the page.

  “Tyrone Parker is excluded as the biological father of James Tyrone Parker.”

  The peanut butter and jelly sandwich he’d wolfed down with Jimmy threatened to make a return appearance.

  Ty drew in a thready breath. And then another. This wasn’t unexpected, he told himself. He’d known all along the child wasn’t his. He took a minute to absorb the news before deciding it didn’t matter what the report said. Legally, Jimmy was still his son. Unless some unknown person stepped forward…

  Ty stopped. He scanned the info at the top of the page, his stomach tightening at the bold X beside Sarah’s name and email address. He rubbed a spot that had begun hurting below his rib cage. Was that why she’d left for Fort Pierce with barely a word? Was she, even now, starting an investigation to find Jimmy’s biological father?

  If so, he had no one to blame but himself. The end of the cattle drive was always a pleasantly hectic time. He’d talked to each of his guests, invited them back for another visit, seen them off to the airport. Horses and gear were loaded onto trailers for the long drive back to the Circle P. A million other details required attention, including the special handling of a very pregnant cow. With all that going on, he hadn’t found the time to discuss his decision about the boy with Sarah. He’d planned to do that tonight. Now, he wondered if he was too late.

  He reached for the phone and dialed her number. When there was no answer on Sarah’s cell, he left a message. And one at her house. And another one on her office phone.

  Flipping his cell phone end over end, he pondered what to do next. It didn’t take long to decide he needed to do something to show his change of heart.

  “Jimmy,” he called. “C’mon in here.”

  The sound of little boots clomping down the hallway brought a smile to Ty’s face.

  “Yes, Mr. Ty?” the child said from the doorway.

  “Remember when you caught your first fish?” At the boy’s nod, he continued, “Come help me print out the picture. We’ll hang it on the wall.” Ty paused. Was he really going to do this? He took a breath and finished what he’d started. “With all the other family photographs.”

  With Jimmy pushing the buttons on his computer, it look a little longer than usual to transfer the best of several shots from his phone to the hard drive and print copies. While the ink set, he scrounged around in the office until he found an empty frame. Slipping Jimmy’s picture inside, he held the boy’s hand and guided him to the gallery of photos that recorded the history of the Circle P.


  Ty pointed to a faded black-and-white print of the bearded patriarch.

  “That’s my great-grandfather, Tyrone Parker the first. He bought this land a long time ago. Four generations of Parkers have lived in this house and raised cattle on this ranch.”

  Jimmy tilted his head back. He squinted at the picture. “Hey,” he said. “We have the same last name. I’m James Tyrone Parker.”

  “I know that, pardner.” Ty gave the little boy’s hand a squeeze. “My name’s Tyrone Parker, too. Most people call me Ty, just like most people call you Jimmy.”

  Step by step, they moved toward the end of the hall with Ty stopping to identify the figures in each picture. He didn’t come right out and connect the dots for the boy. There’d be time enough for that once he tied all the legal details into a neat bow.

  “Who are those boys?” Jimmy asked when they reached the most recent photos. “Do they live here? Can I play with them?”

  “That’s me when I was a little older than you are now.” Ty tapped a picture of himself standing in the kitchen of the Circle P, his head freshly shaved. He pointed to a nearly identical figure seated on a stool. Hair, some dark and some light, littered the floor. “That’s my best friend, J.D.”

  “Why’d you cut off all your hair?”

  “We’d just gotten our buzz cuts for the summer. It’s cooler that way. Summers are hot.”

  Ty laughed out loud when Jimmy raised his hands protectively over his own blond head. His chuckles tapered off as memories of his childhood friend flooded back. Two peas in a pod, Doris had called them, but they hadn’t really been because J.D.’s hair had always been the color of corn silk while his own hadn’t lightened until the sun bleached it. His gaze dropped to the little boy in the hallway. The one who looked so much like him. The one whose blond hair was not sun bleached.

  Millie and J.D.?

  With an oof Ty stumbled back a step.

  He shook his head, unable to accept in his heart the truth his mind had known all along. All the questions he’d had since the day Sarah had called him into her office, all the answers he’d been seeking fell into place. J.D.’s insistence that Millie was wrong for him finally made sense…if his best friend had wanted her for himself. The odd tension that had filled the house the summer before J.D. shipped out. Ty had attributed it to being on edge over his friend’s orders to Afghanistan. He rubbed his temples where a headache threatened. No wonder Millie hadn’t told him about the baby. How do you explain that you’ve had an affair with your husband’s best friend? It’s easier to run away, especially when…

  Ty waved a hand, trying to ward off the image of solemn, uniformed men stepping from a black car in front of the Circle P.

  He needed air, and with Jimmy excitedly pointing to the spot he wanted for his picture, Ty knew he couldn’t take much more.

  “Stay here,” he growled. Leaving the boy, he walked to the end of the hall where he drew in several deep breaths.

  When he could finally breathe again and the walls no longer seemed like they were closing in on him, Ty checked his gut. He expected to feel a sense of betrayal. Instead, regret floated at the top of his swirling emotions. Regret that his best friend had died, never knowing he had a son. Sorrow that he and Millie hadn’t been able to mourn J.D.’s passing together. He wished she’d confided in him. Sure, he would have been upset. He might have even railed for a while. But they’d have worked it out. For J.D.’s sake, if for no other.

  Tears burned the back of Ty’s throat. He brushed a hand over his eyes. There was no changing what had happened six years ago. The question was, how did he move forward?

  “Mr. Ty?” Jimmy’s hand tugged on his shirtsleeve. “Mr. Ty, are you okay?”

  Looking down, Ty realized the boy was due for a trim. He squatted down until he was face-to-face with the child whose name should have been his first clue. James Tyrone Parker. Son of James Dalton, known to all who loved him as J.D. He stared into the boy’s troubled dark brown eyes and saw his best friend staring back at him.

  “Yeah, kiddo,” he said, brushing the kid’s hair off his forehead. “I’m okay. How ’bout we hang that picture and then we’ll ask Ms. Doris to rustle us up some ice cream.”

  A toothy grin spread across Jimmy’s face, and in an instant, J.D. was gone.

  Ty nodded. There’d come a time when the kid was old enough to start asking questions. When he did, Ty vowed to tell him the truth. But for now, the little boy deserved to have pictures of his mom hanging in the hallway. Ty took a breath, knowing he’d have to dig one or two out of the box in the back of his closet.

  But that, too, could wait.

  For now, he had to drive to Fort Pierce and set things right with Sarah. Had she seen the DNA test and bolted? Did she plan to throw the boy into the system? Dread filled his chest with the idea that she might.

  He had to get to her, to make sure she hadn’t done the thing he feared. Especially now that she was apparently refusing to return his phone calls. After making hasty arrangements with Seth and Doris to watch Jimmy, Ty aimed his pickup truck toward Fort Pierce and hit the gas, hoping he wasn’t too late.

  * * *

  AFTER SPENDING every day in fresh air and sunshine on Ty’s ranch, slipping into a suit felt like getting fitted for a straitjacket. But showing up at the DCF office in a T-shirt and jeans wouldn’t win Sarah any points with her boss. And she needed Connie on her side. So, much as she preferred her broken-in cowboy boots, Sarah put on a sturdy pair of sling-backs. Then she tamed her curls, pinning and spraying every strand into a tight bun. Convinced she’d done all she could to make a good impression, she checked her reflection in the mirror.

  Red-rimmed eyes and a deathly pale complexion really weren’t her best look. She was stuck with them, though. At least until a certain rancher faded from her thoughts.

  Sarah shook her head. Who was she kidding? She’d never forget Ty. She couldn’t go a single minute without longing to feel his strong arms about her, without wishing she could press her head against his chest, listen to his steady heartbeat. He’d kept her warm, made her laugh, risked his life for hers. Envisioning a future without him was harder than she’d ever imagined it would be and, not for the first time, she questioned whether she’d made the right decision by leaving.

  The answer, as always, came back to Jimmy. Much as she loved Ty, she’d vowed to protect the child. If that meant raising him as a single parent rather than exposing him to a lifetime of resentment, she had to do it. No matter how much it broke her heart.

  But what if…

  She’d misjudged Ty?

  He’d changed?

  Sarah closed her eyes, shutting off an avenue of thought that would only delay her heartbreak, not heal it. She’d made a decision. For the sake of the child, she’d live by it.

  Standing, she gathered her carefully crafted resignation and the adoption application in hands that barely trembled and headed for her car. She pulled into a crowded parking lot minutes later. Inside the DCF office, clients occupied every available chair while children ran riot through the play area. Sarah walked past cubicles where grumbling coworkers hunched over their keyboards. She steeled herself against the urge to pitch in and help out by reminding herself she’d come here for a purpose. Until she’d accomplished it, she couldn’t think about anything else.

  She nearly made it to Connie’s office before her nerve faltered. Quickly she reiterated all the reasons why quitting her job, adopting a son an
d walking away from the love of her life made sense. Though her heart wasn’t nearly as sure as her head, Sarah kept her feet in motion. She rapped on Connie’s door.

  “Welcome back,” her boss said with a frown.

  When Connie looked up from her monitor, Sarah noted the dark circles under her eyes and gave her the benefit of the doubt. The woman played hunt-and-peck with the keyboard, the look of consternation on her face deepening until Sarah offered a tentative “Need some help?”

  “How are your computer skills?” Connie pushed away from her desk. “I spent most of last night trying to compile a list of foster kids in our care. No luck.”

  Glad for the opportunity to make one last contribution to the DCF, Sarah reached over and, with a few keystrokes, produced the desired information. One more jab of the mouse, and the printer in the corner of the room began to chatter.

  “It’s about time.” Connie sighed. “Just between you and me, this new system hasn’t lived up to my expectations.”

  Sarah understood her boss well enough to know the remark was the closest she’d ever come to hearing a thank-you.

  “Let me guess. Everyone’s spending too much time entering data for reports that aren’t easy to run?” Sarah had tried to point out the flaws while they were in the design phase. She nodded to the computer. “Is that why the parking lot is full and the waiting room is bursting at the seams?”

  Connie hiked one eyebrow. Apparently remembering the new system was her baby, one she and Sarah had argued about on more than one occasion, she folded her arms across her chest. “I’m sure once everyone reads the manual, things will smooth out.”

  Sarah eyed the thick instruction book. “I’ve said all along, we need more staff. Not expensive software. Still, I hope you’re right.” She managed a sympathetic smile. What she had to say wasn’t going to make Connie’s life easier. “Actually, I’m here because of the Parker boy,” she began.