Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders)

by Lorelei James

  “Tell, don’t,” Brandt warned.

  “It’s all good, Brandt. I wanna hear his theory.”

  Tell leaned forward. “You didn’t cut and run only because of Addie. And you knew that day you said goodbye to us that you wouldn’t be comin’ back anytime soon. So I gotta ask if staying away had to do with something me or Brandt had done to you.”

  This was it. Dalton spun his bottle on his cocktail napkin. “You guys hadn’t considered that might be part of my issue until I pointed it out to you the day I left. Did any of it resonate? Or was the problem—aka me—solved when I bailed?”

  “To be honest, it seriously fucked us both up,” Brandt said hotly. “You laid that on us, took off, and left us with such goddamned…guilt and no way to make it right with you. If your intent was to force us to stew in our own juices, then it worked.”

  Dalton shook his head. “What I said to you that day, I said without malice or without an ulterior motive. Do you wish I’da just left without giving you any idea on why?”

  “Some days, yeah. Those days that Brandt and I spent drivin’ around doin’ chores together, when we couldn’t talk about it because there was just another big hole in our lives, that no amount of talkin’ would ever fill. You think your leavin’ didn’t affect us? Fuck you. We’d already lost one brother and then poof, you were gone too. And we had to live with the fact that we played a part in driving you away.” Tell drained his beer. “Fuck. I don’t wanna do this. There’s part of me that believes talkin’ about this shit is actually gonna make it worse.”

  You have no idea.

  “But you’re here, we’re here, and it’s time, little bro,” Brandt said in that don’t argue tone.

  “Order another round. We’re gonna need it.” Dalton headed for the bathroom, but ended up pacing in the hallway. He had a bout of motherfucking nerves that just about had him bolting out the door.

  He pressed his shoulders against the wall and closed his eyes, his last conversation with Casper three years ago pushed front and center just like it’d happened yesterday.

  He’d been sitting outside his trailer, nursing a whiskey when Casper had shown up. As soon as the man had climbed out of his pickup, and Dalton had seen the mean set to his mouth, he slammed the booze, knowing he’d need it.

  “I’m surprised you’re out of hiding. You always have run away instead of bein’ a man and facing up to your mistakes.”

  Dalton said nothing. His dad was on a tear and he’d stay on it until he’d had his full say.

  “You’re a fool for leaving that sweet Addie at the altar. Don’t know how you ever convinced that nice Christian girl to marry you anyway with your reputation for drinkin’, gamblin’, whorin’ and brawlin’.”

  He shoved his ball cap back and looked right into those cruel blue eyes. “How’s a church-going, recovering alcoholic, who don’t even live in this town anymore, who don’t have nothin’ to do with his sons, know so much about my supposed reputation?”

  “Such a smart mouth,” Casper sneered. “Don’t think this scandal is gonna go away anytime soon. You really screwed the pooch on this one.”

  Dalton laughed. “Thought you cut out all vulgar language.”

  “What I said ain’t as vulgar as what you done.” His gaze scrutinized Dalton’s every facial injury. “See some of it’s already caught up with you.”

  “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

  “I’d love to be around the next time someone knocks that smug look off your face.”

  Dalton flashed his teeth. “Or you’re welcome to try and do it yourself, right now, old man.”

  Casper snorted. “Says a lot about your character that you’d get off on beating me up.”

  “You only have yourself to blame since that’s a trait I inherited from you.”

  “You inherited nothin’ from me,” he spat. “’Bout time you knew the truth. So after this last stunt you pulled, I prayed for divine assistance, needing His direction. He gave me the sign I needed.”

  “And what did God tell you to do? Ride out here and berate your son until he begged for forgiveness for adding another black mark to the McKay name?” Dalton demanded.

  That malicious glint in his face showed again. “Your mama oughta be asking for forgiveness for the lies she told. Lies everyone has always believed. But I knew. The sign is as plain as the nose on your face.”

  Was Casper going senile? “You ain’t makin’ a lick of sense. What’s my nose and a sign got to do with anything?”

  “What’s your nose got to do with it? Look at that nose. That face of yours. Have you ever taken a good long look at yourself in the mirror, boy? When you ain’t been preening yourself like a peacock? If you ever had, you’d realize that you don’t look nothin’ like your brothers and you sure don’t look nothin’ like me.”

  He had dark hair and blue eyes, just like the rest of the McKays. He was bigger than his brothers—bigger than all the McKays except for Cam. “Cam and Carter favor the West side so that don’t mean nothin’.”

  “It sure does mean something. It means you ain’t my kid.”

  Dalton laughed.

  “I’m not joking. Your mom screwed around on me and I had to look at and deal with the ugly result of that since the day you were born.”

  “Wow. So I get a two-fer? You’re showing that nasty-ass mean streak you’re so goddamned proud of while you’re telling a bald-faced lie?”

  “Watch your words. God is lookin’ down on you.”

  No, you’re the one who’s always looked down on me.

  “This ain’t a lie. Because blood types don’t lie. And you don’t have the same blood type as Luke, Brandt and Tell.”

  That didn’t prove anything…did it? Fuck, he’d slept through that part of biology. How was he supposed to remember his brothers’ blood types? When he couldn’t remember his own?

  “And if you want real proof that you ain’t mine? I’d even take a paternity test.”

  A niggling feeling of unease started at the back of his neck. What if he was telling the truth?

  “Why do you think your mom coddled you? Protected you? She knew I knew that you weren’t my flesh and blood.”

  “She didn’t coddle me and she sure as fuck didn’t protect me from you or else I wouldn’t have been on the receiving end of your strap so many times.” Or maybe…that’s why he’d been singled out.

  Don’t fall for this.

  “Ask her,” Casper challenged. “Look her in the eye and demand to know what man she was with when she left me for a week. Oh, roundabout nine months before your birth.”

  “I won’t because you’re a fucking liar.”

  “You won’t ask her because you know it’s the truth. Part of you has always known you don’t belong.”

  There’s no way that bastard could’ve known that Dalton had always felt that way. “Why are you doin’ this?”

  “It’s past time you knew the truth.”

  “Just me? Or everyone? You’re gonna make an announcement to the world that your ex-wife fucked around on you? That’ll be seen for exactly what it is: an old man’s bitterness.”

  “I don’t give a hoot about sharing that info with the world at large. I just thought you oughta know.”

  “Why? So you can hang this over my head? Threatening to spew this supposed secret to my brothers, thinking it’ll keep me in line?”

  “Brandt and Tell won’t hear the truth from me. They’ll hate the messenger and ignore the message, as usual.” His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “Besides, you’re still their brother even if you ain’t my kid.”

  Dalton couldn’t think straight. So much of who he was, was about being a McKay—and all it meant to be part of that family.

  Who was he if he didn’t have that?

  And was it really a surprise that Casper had held onto this crucial, critical information until the lowest point in Dalton’s life?

  No.

  Casper could kick a man who was down and smile
while doing it.

  Dalton tried to make his voice hard and cold. “What exactly am I supposed to do with this information, Casper?”

  “Use it to find some direction,” Casper snapped. “You’ve been content floating through life, letting your brothers do all the ranch work while you’re spreading your sins across the five state area.”

  “You have nothin’ to do with the ranch so how would you know what Brandt and Tell are doin’?”

  “Don’t think your brothers haven’t mentioned it to me a time or two, how little you’re involved. It’s obvious Brandt and Tell don’t need your help running the ranch. And you’ve got no claim on it anyway.”

  “Beings that I’m not a McKay,” Dalton said dully.

  Casper kept his arms crossed over his chest and gave him a patronizing look. “Yep. Don’t you be putting your burdens on folks that don’t need them. When you’re the real burden.”

  That’s when Dalton had known he had to leave Sundance right away.

  He opened his eyes, surprised to find himself in the hallway of a bar and not sitting on the steps in front of his trailer watching Casper’s taillights disappear.

  Dalton still didn’t want to tell his brothers what had gone down. But he’d given this secret way too much power to wreck the brother bond he had with Brandt and Tell. He headed back to the table, his heart pounding like he’d run the mile.

  Brandt and Tell weren’t talking. They looked up at his approach.

  He knocked back his beer to wet his suddenly dry mouth. “Tell was partially right. I wasn’t honest with you guys about why I left so fast. I made the decision after Casper showed up at my place.”

  Tell said, “Fuck, that must’ve been fun.”

  “I’ll put it this way: it left its mark.”

  “What’d he say?” Brandt asked.

  Now that the moment was here, Dalton couldn’t even look his brothers in the eye. He focused on his beer bottle, his fingernail edging the soggy label as he tried to peel it off in one piece.

  No one uttered a word for an excruciatingly long time.

  Finally Tell said, “Shit. This is gonna be bad, isn’t it?”

  Dalton nodded.

  Brandt gently pried the bottle out of Dalton’s hand. When Dalton looked up at him, Brandt said, “No more stalling.”

  “Casper said I’m not his son.”

  Tell and Brandt exchanged a look. The why’d you let him get under your skin and make you believe bullshit like that that’s obviously not true look.

  Then Brandt nudged another beer at him. “You’re gonna have to walk us through it, so we can understand why you—”

  “Believed him?” His embarrassment turned into anger. “Fuck you both if you don’t remember what a master manipulator Casper is. I know you’ve forgiven him or something. Fine, that’s your choice. I won’t judge you for what you’ve decided works for you and what you can live with when it comes to him.”

  Both his brothers squirmed—as he’d meant them to. Dalton didn’t judge them. He deserved the same courtesy.

  “Take it down a notch,” Tell said evenly. “We don’t have some touchy-feely, all-is-forgiven attitude when it comes to Dad.”

  Brandt’s face had gone the mottled red that indicated he was a hair away from exploding. “How’d the conversation where Dad told you all this come about?”

  “He came to the trailer. Spewing his usual bullshit about me. You two only put up with me because you didn’t have a choice. He baited me and like I’d done way too many fucking times in my life, I took the bait.” He upended his beer. “He leveled the boom that I wasn’t a McKay. Mom had an affair and tried to pass me off as his kid, but he’d always known I wasn’t.”

  “Bullshit,” Brandt spat. “How is that even possible?”

  “Did you know that Mom actually nutted up and left Casper one time?”

  “No. Where’d you hear that? From him?”

  “Yep. But Mom mentioned it in another conversation. Here’s the kicker. It happened nine months before I was born.”

  Both Brandt and Tell’s faces went white from shock.

  Dalton should’ve taken a breath, given them a chance to absorb it, but he kept going. “That would’ve been enough to give anyone doubt, so when you add in the fact he’s called me Mama’s boy, a mutant, a freak and waste of space my whole life, it cements that doubt.”

  “Dalton—”

  “And let’s not forget he secretly beat the fuck outta me for years, like I was a redheaded stepchild,” he said, ignoring Tell’s interruption. “Yes, I’ve got blue eyes and dark hair, but I don’t have the same blood type as you guys.”

  Brandt paled further.

  “Casper hammered away at me. And I fucking hated I stood there and let him do it. I was at the lowest point of my life—other than when Luke died—and he went out of his way to make it worse. To make me doubt everything I thought I knew about myself and who I was.”

  “Did he tell you to leave?” Tell asked.

  “Nope. He suggested no one would notice if I did go. Especially not you guys.”

  “Fuck.”

  “And after that conversation, nothin’ could’ve made me stay in Sundance. Nothin’.”

  Silence fell between them.

  Finally Brandt said, “It doesn’t matter.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. It mattered to me. It changed me in a fuckin’ instant. I had to face the fact that so much of my identity for twenty-seven years was based on havin’ the McKay last name. If I wasn’t a McKay, who was I? Up until that point my life was predetermined. Grow up, get married, be part of the McKay ranch. I knew that life was no longer an option for me.”

  “Why didn’t you come to us? Talk to us?” Tell asked.

  “Probably because that’s what Casper expected me to do.”

  “Did you talk to Mom about it?”

  “I couldn’t make myself ask her. Afraid to know either way, I guess. But within a month of my conversation with Casper, within a month of bein’ gone from here, I felt freed. I didn’t have the fear I’d turn into a raging asshole for no reason. I stopped letting Casper’s influence be an excuse for everything shitty I did in my life. For fightin’, for drinkin’, for usin’ and discarding women.”

  “Do you believe it? That he’s not…?” Brandt asked.

  “He offered to take me in for a paternity test, which also went a long way in convincing me that I wasn’t his kid. It’s a moot point to me now whether or not we share DNA. Whatever definition I needed about who I am I found on my own.” He released an embarrassed laugh. “I swear I haven’t become some philosophical hippie-type, yammering on about finding myself. But I had to go.”

  “Jesus, Dalton. I don’t even know what the fuck to say to this.”

  Dalton looked at Tell. “Which is why I didn’t share this shit with you guys.”

  “It’s also why you didn’t wanna come back here, isn’t it?” Brandt asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What are we supposed to do with this?”

  Dalton leaned forward. “I’m asking for one thing. I don’t want you to bring this up with him. Period.”

  Tell shook his head. “The mean motherfucker can’t—won’t—speak so it’s the perfect time to give him a piece of my mind about the absolute fucking wrongness of what he done to you. ’Cause he can’t say shit back and he’ll have to sit there and take it like we did for so many years.”

  “Damn straight,” Brandt agreed.

  “To what end? He’s in the hospital. You really gonna be able to forgive yourselves if by layin’ into him he has another stroke or something? No sir. I won’t have that on my conscience or yours. So promise me you’ll leave it be. Both of you. You’ll never bring it up with him.”

  “Dalton, be reasonable—”

  “Promise me,” he bit off.

  “Fine, fuck, I promise,” Tell snapped.

  Dalton looked at Brandt. “You too. I need your word.”

  “You’ve g
ot it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “So nothin’ changes.”

  “With Casper? If I had a quarter for every time I hoped he’d change, I’d be a rich man. The whole freakin’ point of this conversation was to clear the air between us.”

  “Has it?”

  “Other than the smoke comin’ outta your ears? As far as I’m concerned? Yes. The topic is done. Now can we talk about something else?”

  They tried. But by the thirty-minute mark Dalton knew it was a lost cause. Although it was still early, they called it a night.

  Brandt texted Jessie to let her know he was on his way home, but he had things to do in the barn so not to wait up.

  He’d managed to keep it together at the bar. But the instant he stepped into the barn, stripped off his shirt and slipped on boxing gloves, every bit of rage exploded.

  He didn’t think. He just started hitting.

  He didn’t fucking care if Dalton was Casper’s kid. Dalton was his fucking brother. And the fact Dalton had been hurting for three long goddamn years, with no support from either of his brothers, with him believing they thought the worst of him, that they were no different in their opinions than their dad, just kicked his rage, sorrow and sadness to another level.

  And he kept hitting the bag harder.

  No wonder Dalton had left. It was a wonder he’d opted to return.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  He punched until he couldn’t punch any more.

  Once Brandt had stopped moving he felt the chill in the air. His lungs burned. His face was wet. Sweat for sure. Maybe some tears. His arms ached. As did his shoulders and his jaw. But not as much as his heart ached. The weight of it had him clinging to the heavy bag.

  “Brandt?”

  Her sweet voice roused him from the darkness as it always did.

  “Yeah,” he said hoarsely.

  “Come inside and let me patch you up.”

  “How long you been standing there?”

  “Long enough.”

  “Go back inside, Jess. I’ll be there in a sec.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “The boys—”

  “Are sound asleep.” He heard her footsteps on the gravel getting closer. “You gonna tell me what happened tonight?”