The Texan

by Joan Johnston

  He had yearned for the respect the agent commanded. Had admired the badge he wore, which mimicked the Texas Ranger badge, except for bearing the head of a longhorn in the center of the silver star. Had imagined himself toting a gun and hunting down cattle rustlers and horse thieves.

  Billy knew the work of a TSCRA agent was ordinarily more mundane than exciting. But it was a job helping people and would give him a purpose in life, which was something he’d lacked until now. It sounded like he was going to end up with a college education, too. Though it might take him longer going to class at night while he worked. He would finally become the kind of man who might appeal to a woman like Summer Blackthorne.

  Except, he could never, ever have her.

  Billy wanted to hide his face in his pillow and cry. But his response to adversity had always been to fight back. Being a Blackthorne didn’t change that attribute … or maybe was responsible for it. He was going to get well and get on with his life. He’d find someone else to love. Find someone else to love him.

  First he had to meet with Summer. He dreaded the thought of lying to her about why he was leaving, of making her hate him.

  He heard a knock on his bedroom door and then Summer’s voice saying, “Billy? Are you in there?”

  Before he could reply, she had shoved open the door, closed it behind her, and locked it. Splotches of mascara were smeared under her eyes, which were swollen red from crying. Her golden curls were shoved into a clip on top of her head, from which numerous strands had fallen. She was dressed in jeans and a Western shirt and boots which, although they might be her oldest clothes, were still nearly new.

  He pushed himself into a sitting position in his iron-railed bed and pulled the sheet up to cover himself to the waist, since he was naked beneath it. “What are you doing here, Summer? My mom’s going to be back any minute, and you know how she feels—”

  “God, Billy. You still look so awful! That bull really stomped you bad.”

  She’d come to see him when he was in the hospital, suspicious that he’d ended up hurt so soon after her father’s visit. He’d reassured her that Blackjack had nothing to do with his injuries, that he’d gotten cornered by his bull.

  She was so trusting of her father—and so naïve—that she’d believed his lies.

  He’d told her not to visit him when he got home, because he’d dreaded a showdown between Summer and his mother. Yet here she was.

  He took a good look at her face and realized she’d been crying. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She wrung her hands as she paced back and forth at the foot of his bed. “I had to see you. I have something to tell you.”

  Billy’s heart leaped to his throat and made it impossible to speak. She’d found out somehow. He could tell from the stricken look on her face. The tears welled in her eyes as she moved toward him. He inched backward, not wanting her to touch him, feeling unclean and guilty, though he had nothing to feel guilty for.

  She sat gingerly on the foot of his iron-railed bed, as though she didn’t want to touch him—or be touched—either. He could understand her feelings.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” he said. “There’s no reason for us to be talking about this. The past is the past, and we go on from here.”

  Furrows appeared on her brow. “How did you find out?”

  “I think the better question is, how did you find out?”

  “I overheard my parents talking the day of your accident. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it ever since. At first you were in too bad shape for me to lay all this on you. Since then … I haven’t had the courage.”

  “Summer … you don’t have to say anything. I’m going to be leaving—”

  She threw herself toward him, crawling the last foot to reach his arms, which to his surprise were open to receive her. He pulled her close, even though her energetic movements were wreaking havoc with his broken ribs. “Shh. Shhh,” he whispered, as he brushed the hair away from her face and kissed her brow. “It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right, Summer.”

  “Nothing’s ever going to be right again,” she sobbed. “My daddy isn’t my daddy. And my real father’s a murderer!”

  Billy felt his flesh get up and crawl. He put his hands on either side of Summer’s head and forced her away far enough that he could look into her eyes. The misery there was palpable, and he felt his gut twist with the force of her pain. “Who told you that?”

  “I heard my mother and father arguing in the study, and I went to see if I could stop them. I was outside the door when I heard Momma telling Daddy that he isn’t my father. My real father is Russell Handy!” she choked out. “I ran away as soon as I heard. I’ve been crying in secret ever since. And not just for myself. Owen’s boss called and told us he’s safe, but now Clay’s missing, and I think he might be dead!

  “But then I remembered the twins aren’t even my real brothers. I mean, they’re my half brothers, ’cause we have the same mother, but … we don’t have the same father.”

  Tears welled in her eyes as she sobbed, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am!”

  Billy hissed out a breath of air. “Oh, God, Summer.” His arms surrounded her, and he clutched her tightly against him, despite the ache in his ribs. “I’m so sorry.”

  He was sorry for her pain, for her disillusionment, for her confusion. His own relief was enormous. He was overwhelmed by emotion and blinded by tears of joy.

  We’re not related. We’re not brother and sister.

  He blinked his eyes to clear the blurry mist. When he opened them again, he released his hold on Summer and lifted her chin with a forefinger. He smiled tenderly at her, then gave her a soft kiss on the mouth.

  It was the kiss of a friend. And a lover.

  He was not related to her by blood. He was Blackthorne’s son; but she was not Blackthorne’s daughter. They could spend their lives together, and no one could stop them.

  Summer looked at him with eyes that were far more wounded by her mother’s betrayal than his body had been by her father’s brutal attack. “What am I going to do, Billy? I feel like running away and never coming back. Come with me. We’ll run away together and—”

  He put his fingertips to her lips, his heart squeezing as he realized the trap in which he was caught. “I can’t run away, Summer. I have to take care of my mom and Emma.”

  “They’ll manage, Billy. They’ll get by. What about us? We’re entitled to a life, aren’t we? I’ve got some money—”

  “But I don’t,” he interrupted. “I’ve got nothing, Summer.” If he ran away with her he would never have anything, never be anything, because he would be too busy working menial jobs to put food on the table and a roof over their heads. He would lose the opportunity Blackjack had offered him to become a TSCRA field inspector.

  Summer was too young and spoiled to know what it would be like to live without all the money and conveniences she took for granted. When the defiance waned, when the first blush of excitement wore off, she would be left in surroundings more grim than she could imagine. She might love him enough to endure them. It was more likely she would first resent him, and then despise him.

  The opportunity to be more than a mere cowhand or a lowly saddle tramp loomed large. He was afraid to lose it.

  Billy thought there must be something wrong with him not to grab for this chance at happiness with Summer. Maybe it would only last for a little while, but while it lasted … But that was precisely the point. He’d spent the past ten days imagining how he would go away and become a man worthy of Summer’s love. If he could only convince her to wait a few years, there might be a chance they could spend the rest of their lives together.

  Unfortunately, the only way he could grasp at the gold ring Blackjack was offering, was by spurning the brass ring Summer had thrust into his hand.

  But to get what her father had offered, he had to make her hate him. That was the deal. His mother and sister taken care of an
d the position as a field inspector in exchange for leaving Bitter Creek … and making Summer hate him.

  What should he do? Leaving Summer behind was risky. What if she ran off and married some other man? But that had always been a risk. He had no control over her behavior. Only over his own. Whether it was a flaw in his character or not, he wanted to be proud of himself and what he did. He wanted that job as a field inspector. He didn’t think he would be a good spouse for Summer if he couldn’t offer her a husband who was at least her equal.

  Not socially. Not financially. But inside. Where it mattered.

  Billy felt like he was being ripped apart. He wanted Summer. And he wanted that job. But he couldn’t have both.

  “I have some news, too,” Billy said as he edged backward from Summer against the pillows stacked at the head of the bed.

  She looked at him expectantly.

  “I got a job offer. One that’s going to take me away from here.”

  She frowned. “What about your mother and Emma? A minute ago you said you couldn’t go away with me because—”

  “They’re being taken care of as part of the bargain.”

  “What bargain?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Your father offered me a job as a TSCRA field inspector, if I’d go away and leave you alone.”

  “But you’re not going to take it.” Then, after a pause, “Are you?”

  “It’s an incredible opportunity for someone like me.”

  She was inching away from him on the bed, staring at him as though he’d morphed into some kind of monster. “An incredible opportunity? What would you call the offer I just made you?” she asked in a sharp voice.

  He reached out a hand, and she scooted across the bed out of his reach. “Don’t touch me. You’re no better than any of the other ‘undesirable’ beaux my father has bought off!”

  “Summer—”

  She was off the bed and headed for the door. He’d hardly been on his feet the past ten days, but he struggled out of the bed, grabbing the sheet to keep him decent. He managed to catch her only because the lock on the door gave her trouble. He put one hand on her shoulder to turn her, but she whirled around and slapped him.

  His face paled, then flushed where her hand had struck him.

  She grabbed her mouth with the hand she’d used to strike him and gave a cry of anguish.

  He reached for her again, to offer comfort, and she backed up against the door as though she wished she could magically disappear through it.

  “Don’t, Billy. I don’t know you. I thought I did, but if you can do this thing—take money from my father to stay away from me—then I was wrong about you.”

  He wanted to say he loved her. But what purpose would that serve, except to hurt her even more? “What are you going to do?”

  She smiled bitterly. “Are you asking if I’m still going to run away? Where would I run to? Especially when no one would be waiting for me when I got there.”

  “Are you going to tell them you know the truth?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes and clamped her lower lip in her teeth. He saw she was trying not to cry. She kept her gaze lowered as she said, “I love my father. Blackjack, I mean. He was as surprised as I was to find out what my mother did with Russell Handy.”

  She lifted her gaze to look into his eyes and said, “I don’t want … my daddy…” She swallowed hard. “To look at me differently. To act differently. He would if he knew that I knew he wasn’t really my father. Can you understand what I’m saying?”

  Billy understood far better than she could imagine what it was like to have a father who knew he wasn’t really your father. “I understand.” He swallowed over the lump in his own throat and whispered, “I’m sorry, Summer.”

  “Sorry isn’t good enough, Billy. You of all people … choosing money over me. I hate you. Do you hear?” she sobbed. “I hate you! How could you? You were supposed to be my friend.”

  She yanked open the door and slid through the opening. He could hear her boots pounding on the hardwood floor as she ran away.

  He closed the door until the latch clicked, then leaned his forehead against the cool painted surface.

  He didn’t fight the sobs, even though it hurt his injured ribs to cry. He knew he’d done the right thing. So he didn’t understand why it was so hard to breathe, why he felt empty inside, like a gutted steer. Summer had never been his in the first place. So how could it hurt so much to know that he’d lost her forever?

  “HOW COULD YOU DO IT, DADDY! HOW COULD YOU!” SUMmer raged as she marched into Blackjack’s study.

  Blackjack rose as his daughter confronted him from the other side of his desk. He took one look at the tears streaming down her face and felt his pulse begin to jack-hammer. What the hell had that bastard son of his told his little girl? “What is it I’ve done, baby?” he asked in a soothing voice.

  “You know damn well what you’ve done! Paid Billy to get out of town, that’s what!”

  Blackjack crossed around his desk and sat on the corner of it, with his arms folded over his chest. So, the boy had kept his part of the bargain, he thought. Good for him. “You know I couldn’t make Billy Coburn do anything he didn’t want to do.”

  “Why did you do it, Daddy?” she cried. “You knew how I felt about him. Why did you have to send him away? He was the only true friend I had.”

  “You can always come to me,” he said, opening his arms.

  Tears pooled in her eyes again. He saw the hesitation before she careered into his embrace. He closed his arms around her and held her tight. He could feel her hands clutching at his shirt, as she pressed her face against his chest and cried. He put a hand on her head and crooned, “Everything’s going to be fine, baby. Don’t you worry about anything. Someday the right man will come along.”

  “Billy is the right man for me,” she sobbed.

  “No, baby. No, he isn’t. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be running away like he is. He would have stayed and fought tooth and claw to have you.”

  If Bad Billy Coburn had known the truth, Blackjack thought, I do believe that boy would have faced me down to have you. He was glad the situation hadn’t arisen. His daughter had suffered enough. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure her life was happy from now on.

  “What can I do, baby? How can I help?” he asked.

  “Nobody can help,” she wailed. “I’m so miserable!”

  “I’ve got a new computer program that figures grain versus grass growth ratios for our Santa Gertrudis stock. I thought you might be able to help me understand it.”

  Her crying stopped abruptly. She lifted her tear-streaked face and stared at him from reddened eyes. “You want me to help you?”

  “If you think you can teach me how the damned thing works.”

  She took a step back and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, leaving a stripe of mascara across her left temple.

  He gently wiped it away with his thumb, then smiled and said, “We Blackthornes have to stick together.”

  She winced and lowered her eyes.

  He wondered what he’d said that had caused her to back off again. “You’re a lot more computer literate than I am,” he said. “I could really use your help. What do you say?”

  “All right,” she said in a voice that was raspy from crying. She looked up at him and said, “I love you, Daddy. I love you so much.”

  He felt his throat swell with emotion. He hooked his arm around her neck, as he might have with one of his sons, and said, “I love you, too.”

  “What’s all that wailing I heard going on in here?”

  Blackjack let his daughter go and turned to face his wife. “Summer found out—”

  “Daddy.”

  He glanced at his daughter, who shot him a look of pleading. “Summer found out I’m going to make her work for me all summer. No traveling to exotic ports of call.”

  “And that has you in tears?” Eve asked, eyeing Summer’s tear-streaked fac
e. “I thought you might have gotten some bad news about Clay.”

  “No. I—” Summer swiped at her face with her sleeve, removing all evidence of her tears and the rest of her makeup. “I had plans with a friend of mine,” she said, her voice hoarse from crying. “I’m sorry I’m not going, that’s all.”

  “Maybe you and I can take a trip this summer,” Eve suggested.

  Blackjack said firmly, “I need Summer here, right by my side, working with me.”

  “Very well,” Eve conceded with a smile. “Can you excuse us, Summer? Your father and I have something to discuss.”

  “Sure, Mom. I’ll be in my room when you need me, Daddy.”

  “I’ll call up there for you,” he said as she turned to leave.

  “Close the door, will you, dear?” Eve said.

  As soon as Summer closed the door behind her Blackjack said, “What do you want?”

  “For a moment there, I thought you might have broken down and told her the truth,” Eve said.

  “I told you how I feel. I don’t want her ever to know that she’s not my blood and bone.”

  “But involving her in the business? That’s new.”

  “She can handle it.”

  Eve shrugged. “I thought you had other plans for her. Marital plans. If I heard right, a friend of yours in Houston has an eligible son.”

  “That can wait for a while.”

  “Well, it’s good to know I won’t miss the wedding.”

  “How long were you planning on being gone?” Blackjack asked.

  “I’ll be traveling the rest of the summer. When I get back, I expect to hear that you’ve gotten that Creed woman out of your system.”

  Blackjack’s lips pressed flat. He knew an ultimatum when he heard one. But he didn’t have to like it. “When are you leaving?”

  “As soon as I can get packed,” Eve replied.

  “Without waiting for news about Clay?”

  “If the bad penny has shown up, I don’t think the good one can be far behind.”

  Blackjack snorted in disgust.

  She crossed to stand in front of him. “Would you like to kiss me good-bye?”