Hometown Cowboy

by Sara Richardson

  Figuring she’d still be at the shelter, he headed in that direction, tapping his hands to the rhythms playing on the country station. During his jaunt down Main Street, he waved to Kat Temple, the lone female deputy within a hundred-mile radius, and even at Hank Green, who was walking his cat on a leash. Because why the hell not?

  Outside the shelter, he didn’t see Jessa’s car, but he parked anyway. He could wait until she got back if need be. Once he approached the windows, though, he saw that the lights were on, so he tried the door. It was open.

  Cassidy sat at the front desk, working on the computer. She sat straighter as he came in.

  “Hey,” he said. “Didn’t expect to see you here today.” Far as he knew, she covered only on the weekends or when the boss was away. “Is Jessa around?”

  “Oh.” Her blue eyes grew round and her gaze wandered. “Um. No. Actually. She’s not here.” There was no evidence of her typical friendly smile. Why did she look so worried?

  “What about my father?” he asked, his stomach coming unsettled. Something wasn’t right. According to Levi, Jessa had picked up Luis early that morning. He’d told him they had a lot to do at the shelter today…

  “Um. Your dad’s not here, either.”

  “Where are they?”

  “They’re out,” she said, staring hard at the computer screen. To avoid his probing gaze, if he wasn’t mistaken.

  “Out where?” He hadn’t meant for it to sound so harsh, but this was starting to feel like a game.

  “On a call.”

  “Oh.” Why hadn’t she said that in the first place? From the intensity of her worried expression, it had to be something bad. “Where are they? Maybe I can help out.”

  “I’m not sure,” she mumbled, but Cassidy was a very bad liar. Her eyes shifted too much. And her voice carried the hoarseness of a bald-faced lie.

  “What do you mean you’re not sure?” He pinned her with his eyes, trying to read what she wouldn’t tell him. “If she called you in to cover for her, she must’ve told you where she was going.”

  A sigh broke through her tight lips. “I think it’s best if you talk to Jessa. Okay?” Without waiting for an answer, she went back to typing.

  He reached over her and shut off the damn monitor. “What the hell is going on?” Something big, judging from the way she was putting him off. And he didn’t like being the only one in the dark. “She wouldn’t have called you in for an hour or two…” He knew that much. And Jessa rarely went out on calls outside the county limits.

  “I’m not telling you anything,” Cassidy said stubbornly. “It’s not my place or my business. Understand?”

  No. He didn’t understand. Didn’t understand how worry could boil up in his gut this way when he’d felt fine only five minutes ago. Was Jessa all right? Had something happened to her? “Is she with Dad?” He let his eyes beg. “Please. You at least have to tell me that.” So he’d know whatever she was off dealing with she wasn’t alone.

  “Yes.” Cassidy sighed. “She’s with your father. He asked her to go to Denver with him today.”

  That stood him up straighter. “What?”

  “That’s all I’m gonna say.” She walked to the door and held it open for him, gesturing for him to leave. “If you want to know more you’ll have to talk to them. Okay? I’m guessing she’ll have him home within the hour.”

  He lumbered out the door in a stunned fog. Last night, Jessa had said nothing about taking his father to Denver, but she must’ve been planning on it. Why would she keep something like that from him?

  He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

  * * *

  Jessa couldn’t remember the last time she’d been silent for more than an hour. Even when she was home alone, she had a tendency to talk to herself. But most of the ride home from Denver, Luis had been quiet and introspective, as if processing what he’d learned. And she knew he had to process it alone. He wasn’t like her. He didn’t verbally analyze everything, so she’d let him be while she listened to the sad country songs playing on the radio.

  Now that they’d almost made it back to the ranch, the urge to burst into tears intensified again. It wasn’t like Luis would die in three months; she knew it could be worse. But she couldn’t help wondering how long it would be before he’d have to give up the hikes he loved so much, the time wandering in the wilderness that seemed to keep him sane. That would slowly kill him.

  “I sure appreciate you coming,” he said, turning his head in her direction for the first time since they’d gotten in her truck.

  “I’ll do anything I can to help.” She’d research until they found the best doctors, the latest treatments. “As soon as we get home from the competition, we need to sit down with Lance and go over everything the doctor gave you.” Then they could come up with a plan…

  “We?” Luis asked, as though he hadn’t heard right.

  With all her apprehension, she’d forgotten to mention that she was tagging along to Vegas. “Lance asked me to come.” Even with the sadness weighting her heart, she smiled. “I hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s more than okay,” he said, smiling, too. “I couldn’t be happier.”

  She knew he wasn’t talking only about Vegas. As she veered onto the country road that led to the ranch, hope swelled inside her, seeming to stretch her ribs, to give her more room to breathe. They would get Luis through this. All of them. Together. “It won’t be easy to keep it from him.” Even for one more week.

  “I know,” he agreed. “But it’s best.”

  She turned into Luis’s driveway. “We might have to agree to disagree on—”

  Her mouth froze open, the rest of the sentence disintegrating in an explosion of panic. Lance sat on Luis’s front porch. As the truck rolled toward him, he looked up. Even though she couldn’t see his face, she knew. He’d found out where they’d been.

  “Oh God.” She slowed and parked, but let the car idle. Her heart idled right along with it.

  “You go on home, Jess,” Luis murmured, unbuckling his seat belt. “I’ll handle this.”

  It was tempting to take him up on that, to avoid the impending confrontation, but she couldn’t. “No. I’ll stay.” How could she turn around and leave when Lance’s expression had twisted with suspicion and anger? She had to make him understand. There’d be no way to protect him from the truth now.

  Grasping at courage, she cut the engine and slowly withdrew the keys.

  Luis got out first. While she struggled to find her balance, he approached the porch. “Hey, son. You’ve got some questions, I reckon.”

  Jessa hung back, bracing one hand against the truck’s fender to steady herself.

  Without looking in her direction, Lance walked down the steps to meet his father. “What were you doing in Denver, Dad?” he asked, and Jessa didn’t recognize that voice. She’d never heard it before.

  “That’s my business,” Luis said, not unkindly. “I’m allowed to have my own life. Don’t have to answer to you.”

  Ignoring him, Lance turned to her. The indifference on his face sent a blow to her heart.

  “Why did you go to Denver?” He repeated the question, but this time directed it at her.

  Jessa eased in a steady breath, trading a look with Luis. She couldn’t lie to Lance. Not right to his face. And he wasn’t about to let this go. He knew something was wrong.

  “I had an appointment,” Luis told his son before she could speak. “And I asked Jessa to take me.”

  “What kind of appointment?” Lance asked impatiently.

  Jessa crept closer to him. They had to tell the truth. Didn’t Luis see that? The longer he stalled, the angrier Lance would be.

  “I had to see a doctor. A specialist.”

  “A specialist.” He seemed to carefully control his voice, but Jessa recognized the fury rising in his eyes, and she couldn’t take it, couldn’t force him to keep guessing.

  “Luis saw a neurologist today,” she blurted. “They diagno
sed him with Parkinson’s.”

  “What?” Lance staggered back a step, his eyes widening with a sudden wrenching pain. “Jesus, Dad.” The words were breathless. “How could you keep that from me?” He shook his head as though he couldn’t believe it, then set his sights on her. “And how the fuck could you pretend everything was fine? Last night. You knew. And you let me think everything was dandy.” His hand raked through his hair as he paced away from them. “Jesus.”

  “Don’t blame Jessa,” Luis said, matching his son’s furious tone. “It wasn’t her fault. I told her to keep it quiet. I wasn’t ready to tell you.”

  “You weren’t ready?” Lance yelled. “Well, shit, Dad. By all means, take your time.”

  Jessa flinched.

  “Easy, son,” his father reprimanded. “Why don’t we all go inside? We can tell you what the doc said. Get everything sorted out.”

  But Lance didn’t seem to be in the place to sort anything out at the moment. He still paced in front of Jessa’s truck, back and forth, staring at the ground.

  She glanced at Luis. “Can you give us a minute?”

  Luis hesitated, as though worried what Lance might do or say. But she could handle it. She could handle him. If they were alone, she could remind him of the connection they’d built. Just last night he’d said maybe he could learn to love, learn to let someone love him. He was still that man. He might be angry, but he was still the same Lance who’d taken her on a picnic in the mountains. “It’ll be fine,” she assured Luis, shooing him toward the front door. “We’ll be in soon. Then we can all talk through this together.”

  The man nodded silently, but the look he gave his son sent a clear message. Be careful. Then he walked up the steps and disappeared into the house.

  The hard slam of the screen door seemed to shake Lance out of his daze. He spun to face her, his face still flushed with anger, his eyes hard and distant. And who could blame him? She’d just unloaded this horrible news on him, without warning. He had to be in shock. Had to be reeling the same way she had in the doctor’s office.

  She approached him slowly. “I wanted to tell you,” she said, reaching for his hand so she could thread their fingers together. “But I had to respect Luis’s decision. He didn’t want to distract you before Worlds. And it was his news to tell you. Not mine.”

  Lance yanked his arm away. “I didn’t spend last night with him,” he snapped. The ice in his tone sent her back a step. Her arms fell to her sides. She was losing him. Or…she’d already lost him. “I’m sorry. Maybe we should go inside—”

  “We don’t need you here for this discussion,” he said, turning his back on her.

  “Lance.” She followed him up the steps. “Please. I was only doing what he asked me to do. I want to stay. I want to help.” She touched his arm, tried to bring him back to her. “We can get him through this. The doctor said there are treatment options. Things that will slow the progression.”

  Shrugging away from her touch, he assessed her from behind a curtain of apathy. “Go home, Jessa. You’re not a part of this family.”

  The words drove into her, sharp and cutting. And he knew. He knew exactly what kind of damage he’d just inflicted. Because she’d told him. What she wanted most in the world, what mattered to her more than anything in life. Loving and being loved. Those family connections she’d longed for to anchor her but had never managed to build.

  Tears stung, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. “You’re right. I’m not part of this family.” Instead of shying away like he obviously wanted her to, she marched right to him, piercing his eyes with hers. “But I could’ve been.” Her own anger hummed through her, building into a pressure that made her unbreakable. “And you know something, Lance? You would’ve been damn lucky to have me.” She started to walk away, but whirled back to him. “You can think about that while you’re alone in Vegas,” she snapped. Then she hurried to her truck and drove away before her strength crumbled.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Instead of following Jessa like he knew he ought to, Lance hunched over and leaned his elbows on the porch railing, letting his forehead fall to his hands. All this time, he’d thought the forgetfulness, the shaking, the weakening physicality in his father was simply old age. But he’d been wrong. He’d ignored the signs, the symptoms. His own hand trembled some as he kneaded his forehead, trying to force it all to sink in. His father had Parkinson’s. A label. A disease that would slowly eat away at him until there was nothing left…

  Pain shot through his chest, then traveled down his arms, forcing his hands into fists. He was half-tempted to put one of those fists through the wall.

  Before he could, the door banged open and Luis poked out his head.

  “Where’s Jessa?” he asked, glancing toward the empty spot where her truck had been parked before Lance’d gone and run her off.

  He straightened, but his shoulders bore the weight of a new burden. “She went home.” Because he’d been an asshole. He’d directed the brunt of his anger and shock at her. He turned to his father, trying to block out the image of her wounded eyes.

  “You mean you sent her home,” his father corrected.

  “I was blindsided,” he muttered. All afternoon, the fears and possibilities had stewed somewhere deep inside him while he’d sat on the porch waiting for Luis and Jessa to get home. Then when he saw her, without warning, it’d all boiled over, the venom spilling onto Jessa. He’d let the familiar feeling of betrayal get the best of him.

  Luis stepped out onto the porch, his thumbs hooked through his belt loops. “She loves you, ya know. I’ve never been lucky enough to have a woman look at me the way Jess looks at you.”

  “I know.” But he was completely unworthy of it. This little tantrum only proved he could never give her what she deserved. God, he wanted to try, though.

  “I know it was a shock to hear it that way.” Luis lumbered over to the old bench he’d made with his own two hands. He sat with a wince. “You don’t need all this hoopla right now. I wanted to wait until after Worlds.”

  Lance sat beside him, letting himself notice the age spots on Luis’s hands, the arthritic hunch to his shoulders. Truth is, he didn’t want his father to get old. Didn’t want him to get sick. He was the only one who’d stuck around, who’d stuck it out with him all these years and he couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t let himself picture that day when his dad would take his last breath.

  Emotion clogged his throat, but he didn’t bother to clear it away. “How long have you known?”

  Luis stared out at the mountains. “A while. Doc’s been running tests over the past couple months.”

  “And you kept it to yourself.” That hurt more than anything else. The fact that he hadn’t trusted Lance with it. Or that he hadn’t thought Lance would consider it important enough to put his training on hold. But maybe that was on him. Maybe he’d focused so much on winning that he’d made his father believe he wouldn’t care. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve helped you. I would’ve taken you to the appointments.” He would’ve sat by his side today while he heard the news. Instead, Luis had chosen Jessa. Maybe that was it, what had set him off. He’d chosen Jessa and Lance couldn’t deny she’d been the better choice.

  “I did what I thought was best.” Luis turned to him, his expression donning that fatherly disappointment. “And you had no right to take it out on Jessa. She’s done nothing but help this family.”

  “I know.” Regret had already pooled in his gut, making him feel full to the gills, even though he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “But maybe it’s better we end it now. Jessa deserves more than I can give her.” Naomi was right. He was too screwed up to do this. He had one foot in, but kept one foot out, just in case. And when things got hard, he found an excuse to be an asshole to keep distance between them.

  “That’s a copout,” Luis muttered. He’d always been one to call it like it was. “You’re a better man than I ever was. You love some
one, you gotta make it work. You gotta work hard, face up to the troubles, and get past ’em. Trust me. I wish I would’ve made the effort.”

  Before he could ask what Luis meant, Levi’s truck rumbled into the driveway.

  Right. He’d forgotten he’d called in his brothers. He turned to his dad. “I should warn you. When I found out you’d gone to Denver with Jessa, I called in backup. Told them to meet me here as soon as they could.”

  “Swell,” his father muttered, rising as though preparing to face the music.

  “What’s the emergency?” Lucas asked, stomping the mud off his boots as he made his way up the steps.

  When Lance had finally gotten ahold of them, he’d learned the two slackers had gone fly-fishing.

  “Yeah…who up and died?” Levi asked, obviously annoyed he’d been interrupted before he’d caught the big one.

  Lance cringed. “No one died.” Yet. But his brother was gonna have to grow up for this conversation. It wouldn’t be easy for either of them to hear. Especially seeing as how they’d both missed out on the last ten years of their father’s life.

  Silence ate away at his ears, but he had no idea where to start.

  “We ought to go inside, sit down,” Luis said, plodding to the door. He held it open, and one by one, they headed to the same kitchen table they’d sat around every night for their meat-and-potatoes dinners growing up. Lance took a chair next to Luis while Levi and Lucas faced off on the other side of the table.

  Once they’d all sat, Luis didn’t waste any time getting right to it.

  “Parkinson’s?” Levi’s voice had shrunk and he almost sounded like a little kid again.