Redheaded Stranger: A Cowboy Love Story (Bluebonnet, Texas)

Home > Literature > Redheaded Stranger: A Cowboy Love Story (Bluebonnet, Texas) > Page 5
Redheaded Stranger: A Cowboy Love Story (Bluebonnet, Texas) Page 5

by Amie Stuart


  He moved to sit on the ottoman at her feet, fisting his cold, shaky hands. "I um...I just want you to know how truly sorry I am."

  Her expression was stoic. Unreadable. "Thank you."

  "Not just about the stuff I said—I was out of line—but about the baby, too. About everything I said to you. I was out of line." He sighed, struggling for the right words. This shouldn't be as difficult as it was. She shouldn’t be as intimidating as she was. "I sincerely hope that me telling you about Rhea’s...treatment of Ty didn’t help cause your miscarriage, but if it did—"

  "That’s enough."

  He swallowed the lump clogging this throat and pushed on, ignoring her request. "My wife and I; we lost a baby before Darrach. So I would never, in a million years, have wished something like that on anyone, and I hope you can forgive me if I played any part in it."

  "That's enough. Stop!"

  From the kitchen came the sound of dishes crashing, reminding him they weren't alone.

  "I’m not the one you need to look to for absolution."

  "I’m not here for you to absolve me of anything. I just wanted to apologize." And who the hell was he supposed to ask for absolution from?

  One perfectly arched blonde eyebrow rose. "Sure about that?"

  "I just want to take my wife and son home." He couldn’t keep the fatigue or the despair from his voice. It had been a long day, he was tired, and stuck in the last place he wanted to be.

  "You are home."

  "This isn’t my home anymore," he snapped.

  "A shame you feel that way," she sighed, adjusting her position. "I don't think I’ve ever felt more like a part of a family than I have since I married your brother. And your sister is a sweet girl."

  He cringed at the word sister.

  "She reminds me of Angi."

  "I thought you said she was sweet?"

  Betti chuckled. "She is. Rene follows her around like a puppy and begs to go with her constantly, and Delaney never complains. Ever." She stopped and studied him until he was ready to squirm. "She’s the closest Rene will ever have to a big sister. Maybe even the closest she’ll ever have to a sibling at all."

  He stayed silent still, not willing to talk about Delaney when all he’d come here to do was apologize.

  "I know your brother and I haven’t been married for very long, so I haven’t been around for very long, but I do know this hasn’t been easy for your family. Hell, your mother is Maggie Kendall, honey. Her grandfather was the mayor. So was her father. She’s practically royalty in these parts."

  Always had been. He hadn’t missed that part of living in Bluebonnet anymore than he’d missed the smell of cow shit.

  "And you know how people are."

  He did. Social media had nothing on small towns for spreading gossip.

  "It hasn’t been easy for any of them. Of course, you wouldn’t know about any of this since you haven’t been here."

  Chapter Six: Keilana

  Maggie had given us the largest empty bedroom, saying it had once been Zander and Zack’s and that it came with a connecting bathroom. Delaney was across the hall in Ty’s old room.

  I’d also gotten to meet her and found her to be a wonderful, sweet young woman whose seriousness was balanced by a quirky sense of humor. She’d shown up in time for dinner, shocked, flustered and obviously dismayed at my presence and the knowledge that her archenemy was on his way. I couldn’t say I blamed her after the hateful things he’d said about her and her mother.

  I groaned inwardly, wondering what sort of first Christmas Darrach might have, then chuckled to myself at how totally spoiled rotten he’d be by the time I eventually took him home. After five hours in the car, his afternoon nap had lasted all of forty-five minutes. Then he’d spend the afternoon with his grandfather—who’d promised me no riding horses yet—while exploring the barn. Jerrod said he’d squealed and patted the horses noses like a real trooper. Plus there were puppies. Just in time for dinner, he'd handed a hungry Darrach back to me complete with dirt on the knees of his little jeans. And then Alex had shown up.

  By the time I'd finished chewing Alex out, pried Darrach from his grandfather’s clutches, got him bathed and stretched out on the quilt-covered bed for his final feeding of the night, I was exhausted. So exhausted I barely moved when Alex moved Darrach to his crib and climbed in next to me, damp and warm from his shower.

  So exhausted, we didn’t even talk. Not that we had much to talk about at this point.

  I didn’t move again until Darrach’s five a.m. feeding, when I gathered him close and propped a pillow behind him, then dozed while he nursed. He squawked, demanding more, waking me, and I rolled over, taking him with me, and dozed off again.

  I watched through drowsy eyes as Alex curled up against Darrach’s back and draped an arm across us both. Curling up in bed together to feed the baby was a weekend ritual we’d practiced from day one. Alex had insisted on it from the minute we brought Darrach home. He'd also done the majority of the burping and diaper changing.

  I was still too tired to ask him how things had gone with Betti. Unfortunately, once Darrach finished nursing, he decided it was time to play, rolling over and beating a fist on his father.

  "Darrach, no," I murmured, pulling his hand back.

  "He’s alright. I got him. Go back to sleep." Alex wrapped one long, sinewy arm around him and held him against his chest, sitting up in one fluid motion that caused the baby to burp.

  Smiling, I closed my eyes and burrowed in the comfy bed, listening to the telltale sounds of him changing Darrach’s diaper and dressing them both before the room quieted with a click of the door.

  When I awoke for a second time, the sun was up, the room was silent, and for that matter, so was the house. I lurched out of bed, threw on a robe and rushed downstairs, flinging the front door open, my heart in my throat at the thought of Alex taking Darrach back to Dallas without me. At the sight of both our vehicles parked out front, I sagged against the doorjamb for a few shaky breaths. Weak-kneed, I padded back upstairs to check the time my phone. It was only just after eight. I hadn't slept in as long as I'd thought. Once my heart settled back in my chest, I dressed and went back downstairs to pour myself a cup of coffee and find my husband.

  "Sleep good?" Maggie asked as she came through the back door. She wore jeans and a thermal undershirt topped with a red flannel shirt a few sizes too big for her.

  "Yes, I did. Thank you." I poured a cup of coffee and turned to face her, forcing my tone to stay casual. "Do you know where Alex is?"

  One eyebrow quirked, a tiny smile on her lips, she nodded toward the back door. "Outside."

  I wondered at the funny, knowing look on her face as I headed for the door, sans coat. The day was cold enough to produce frosty breath as I stepped out onto the porch, arms wrapped around myself. The sight that greeted me made my jaw drop in shock. Maggie grabbed the coffee cup from my fingers before it crashed to the porch.

  In a small fenced-off area beside the barn, my husband and son were sitting atop a horse. A real horse. A large, spotted, gray animal, and they were going in circles. I hustled down the four steps and across the yard toward them, relief at the sight of them together, and more importantly, still here, mixed with a new kind of panic.

  "Have you lost your mind, Alex Boudreaux?" I struggled to keep my anxiety in check, afraid of startling said horse and hurting my son.

  The bottoms of Alex's normally pristine Nikes were now covered in mud. Both of them wore jeans and flannels under their coats, though Darrach’s shirt was way too big. Completely immune to my distress, Darrach scrunched up his nose, kicked his legs and hollered with happiness.

  "He won't get off."

  I spun around in surprise, still a little off-kilter from the sight of my husband and son on a horse. "Good morning?"

  "Morning, ma’am." The newcomer smiled and tipped his ball cap at me. "Tim Caldwell, at your service." The Boudreaux’s godson, and honorary fourth son, held out his hand, and I
shook it slowly. "That’s my daughter, Rene, up there." He pointed to the top of the hay loft, where a willowy girl hung out far enough to make me grimace.

  "Aren’t you afraid she’ll fall?"

  "Naw," Tim replied. "She’s been doing that since she was old enough to climb."

  "I took pictures already." Maggie joined me, handing me back my coffee. The heat felt good on my cold, nervous fingers.

  My husband guided the large horse over near us. Despite the previous day’s upheaval, he looked surprisingly relaxed. Secretly, I felt this trip had been, and would be, just what he needed in more ways than one. But the key to all of it was mending the rift between him, his father, and Delaney—a problem I hadn't found a solution to yet.

  Just outside the small fenced area, Jerrod sat atop a large reddish-brown horse, a huge grin on his face.

  "I thought you were going to take him?"

  He shrugged, his expression almost too innocent as he said, "I was."

  Alex caught my eye, his expression unreadable. "I told him no."

  Didn't take a genius to figure out his father had somehow goaded him into taking Darrach for that first ride. I looked up into my husband’s quiet, solemn face, wondering what he was thinking.

  Tim chuckled. "You should have seen Zander and Daddy arguing over who was going to give Darrach his first ride."

  "I can imagine," I muttered.

  "I thought Tim would have to step in," Maggie added.

  "I’m surprised you even remember how to sit a horse," Tim said with a chuckle.

  "Fu—"

  "Hey!" I frowned at Alex, my displeasure clear. "No swearing in front of the baby. Or your mother."

  "Yes, ma’am. Sorry." He nodded to me, clucked his tongue and the horse picked up his pace. My heart struggled to climb up my throat and come out my mouth, but Darrach just laughed like it was the best thing ever.

  "Open the gate, Dad." Alex's voice was gruff and low instead of his usual clear deep tone.

  "You sure that’s a good idea?" Jerrod asked, maneuvering his horse around so he could reach the latch.

  "I can handle her."

  "Been a long time since you got on the back of a horse."

  "Open the gate, Dad."

  Jerrod did, and I watched as Alex and Darrach took off across the field. My grip tightened on my coffee cup as they disappeared from view.

  "Well now that we’ve all lost a morning’s work, I suppose I should get busy." With a cluck of his tongue, Jerrod wheeled his horse around and took off in the same direction as Alex.

  "I got a Christmas horse to deliver." Looking up toward where Rene still hung, Tim shouted, "I’m going to the Mobley’s. Wanna ride with me?"

  "No, thanks."

  "Okay, well come down out of that barn. You’ll fall and die before anyone sees ya."

  Today was apparently my day for heart attacks. I quickly covered my eyes as she grabbed the hook above her head and swung down. Maggie slipped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a reassuring pat. "Relax, honey. You’ll get used to it."

  "Good lord, no wonder you’ve got gray hair," I murmured at Tim.

  "Yes, ma'am." He grinned and winked at me before turning to his daughter, who’d crossed the small fenced area and slipped between the fence slats. "Do you remember your manners?"

  She was a tall for her age, a lanky and athletic-looking young girl who was dressed almost identical to her father and grandmother. Her thick boots could only be described as ugly, but considering some of the places she probably walked in them, they were probably a necessary evil.

  She yanked off her leather gloves and tucked them under her arm before sticking out one hand. "Hello, I’m Rene Caldwell. Nice to meet you. You look too nice to be married to Uncle Zan."

  "Well, Alex has many fine qualities." The least I could do was defend my husband even if he wasn’t real high on my happy list right now.

  Her lips twisted thoughtfully. "Why do you call him Alex?"

  Tim butted in with a laugh, nudging her away. "Okay, Miss Nosey, I’m outta here. Don’t let her pester you too hard," he warned.

  "I won't."

  "And before you answer that, why don’t we go in the house where it’s warm." Maggie patted my shoulder. I glanced toward where Alex and Darrach had disappeared, grimacing in disappointment when I didn’t see them returning. "Okay."

  "Relax." Rene moved to slip an arm around her grandmother’s other side. "They’ll be fine."

  I wished I felt as confident as she did.

  We all headed inside and settled around the kitchen table with cinnamon toast and more coffee—even Rene, who, with a father who stood well over six feet, didn’t really need to worry about stunting her growth.

  "I call him Alex because I always have."

  "Well that’s kinda lame-o."

  I chuckled. "He introduced himself as Alexander. On our first date I asked if I could call him Alex, and he said yes."

  "Where’d he take you on your first date?" She wrinkled her nose as if the idea of boys and dating were still not a high priority.

  "Miniature golf, and he beat the pants off of me."

  "Figuratively speaking, of course," Maggie added as the front door slammed.

  "Of course."

  "Gram says you’re Hawaiian. Do you know any Hawaiian cuss words?" Rene asked as Delaney came creeping into the kitchen, her eyes glued to the back door as she took a seat.

  "I know a lot of Hawaiian words," I said with a smile.

  "Where is he?" Delaney finally asked, referring to Alex.

  "Out with the baby." Maggie gave her a reassuring smile.

  "He took Darrach for a ride," I added.

  Her shoulders slumped in relief. "I can’t believe he’s a dad. Of course, I can’t believe anyone married him. No offense—" she added, glancing my way, "—you seem nice."

  Her words made me sad, and yes, they also stung. "To be honest, I am offended. Alex is a good father, a good provider and a good husband." Delaney’s cheeks turned red, but I didn’t let that stop me. Despite my troubles with my husband, he was my husband. "You know, my parents didn’t want me to marry him. We’d only known each other four months, and they said it was too soon. But when Alex makes up his mind about something, that’s it. He’s determined. It’s a part of what makes him so good at his job, but his hardheadedness is also why we’re here. So, yes, changing his mind about anything is difficult. Changing his mind about you? Even more so. That’s why I left him like I did. Because I knew that coming here was the only way to start mending this rift in your family.

  "Alex didn’t come here for me. Don’t get me wrong, he loves me. I know he does. But he came here for Darrach, because he’d move heaven and Earth for our son. He always has and he always will. And it’s one of the things I love about him."

  Delaney stood for a moment, eyes downcast, and then quietly left the room. Even Rene stayed silent, something I was learning was not her usual thing.

  "Sorry, Maggie, for upsetting her. I know Alex has his faults, but he’s my husband."

  "No apologies are necessary."

  "So—" Rene leaned forward, fingers wrapped around her mug of coffee, "—about those cuss words..."

  Chapter Seven: Alex

  Alex knew he couldn’t keep Darrach out much longer, but he wasn’t ready to head back in. Usually it was the three of them, so he didn't get a lot of alone time with his son. He talked, pointing out mesquite, pecan, and huge old live oaks. Occasionally they’d spot a squirrel, late to gather pecans. When they found the cows huddled in the dry creek bottoms, Darrach oohed and struggled for freedom while a grinning Alex tightened his grip on his son. He was glad he’d won that fight with his dad.

  With each step the horse took, the knot of tension between Alex's shoulders slowly unwound itself. A knot he hadn’t realized was there. When was the last time he rode a horse? He couldn’t even recall. He might hate the smell of cow shit, but he’d missed the smell of saddle leather. He liked being out here with only his
son. It just felt right. As mad as he was at Kei for forcing him to come home for Christmas, he wouldn’t have missed this moment with his son for anything. He sat and soaked up the almost complete silence, broken only by the sound of wind rattling dry dead leaves, cows and saddle horses moving around. Even Darrach stilled for a bit, leaning against him.

  Alex didn’t bother turning around at the creak of a saddle and the jingle of a bridle, but the moment, whatever it had been, was over.

  "Huh, so that’s your boy?" Ty maneuvered Dancer around and came up next to him.

  He couldn’t help but feel a bit irritated at the invasion of his privacy, but then, he knew if it hadn’t been Ty, it would have been his dad. And yes, it was awkward sitting there with his son on his lap while knowing his brother had recently lost a child. "Yup."

  "Bettina said you came by last night."

  "I did."

  Darrach mewled. Soon he’d have to take him in.

  "It’s okay, son." He leaned over and kissed the top of his head, tightening his arms around him.

  "Gimme five, man." Ty held out a gloved hand, palm up as Darrach glanced up at his father, unsure of what to do or who the strange person in front of him was. Normally an outgoing baby, the last twenty-four hours of upheaval had been a real challenge for him. All because of Alex’s bad temper.

  Ty leaned over, resting on his saddle horn, and offered Darrach his hand again along with another smile.

  "That’s your Uncle Ty." He nodded and reached out to slap his brother’s palm. Darrach quickly followed suit with a grin.

  "Damn, he’s cute," Ty mumbled after their game of "Five" was over. "Thank you for apologizing to Betti."

  "Of course."

  "Been down to see Travis?" Ty asked, referring to Zack’s five-year-old son.

  "No. Haven't had a chance."

  He nodded, almost to himself. "You should. He was...what? Three the last time you were home?"

  "You mean, before Thanksgiving? Yeah. That sounds about right."

  "Daddy just loves him. Loves all his grandkids, but you wouldn’t know about that, huh? Cause you weren't here. You were too busy holding a grudge. How’s that working for you? What’s it like, Zan?" he asked, his voice low and conversational for the baby's sake. "What’s it like to be you with your perfect life and your grudges?"

 

‹ Prev