A Son for the Cowboy

by Sasha Summers

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Is it really one already? Sure.”

  The vet hospital was on the other side of the highway, a world away from everything that made Stonewall Crossing a visit to times past. Here the buildings were new and eco-friendly, with solar panels on the roofs, fast-food eating establishments and several apartment complexes for the students of University of East Texas.

  They picked one of the burger joints, found a small booth and placed their order before Tandy finally asked, “So what’s the crisis?” She spun her sweet tea with her straw.

  “Crisis?” he echoed. Poppy reappearing in his life was...odd. But Rowdy? He didn’t classify any of this as a crisis. “I have something to tell you.”

  Tandy nodded. “So tell me.”

  He sat back, glancing around the restaurant, drawing his courage.

  “Just spit it out, Toben.” Tandy was all smiles. “We can figure it out.”

  “Okay.” Toben blew out a slow breath. “You remember Poppy White?”

  Her smile disappeared and she leaned back against her seat. “Of course I do.”

  “She moved to Stonewall Crossing—”

  “So you’re leaving?” Tandy frowned. “Dammit, Toben, you’re finally putting down some roots. Don’t let her chase you off. Please. I know Uncle Teddy, Hunter—hell, even Archer—need you on the ranch.” She sat forward. “And me. I’d like you to stick around.”

  “I’m not leaving. Turns out we... She has a kid. And he’s mine.” His words were soft.

  Tandy’s expression shifted, from anger to nothing. He knew that expression, blank and stiff and hiding so much pain. And it killed him to see it. “What?” she whispered.

  “His name is Rowdy.”

  She stared at him, not saying a word.

  “Tandy?” He reached for her, taking his hand in hers.

  She blinked.

  “She says she tried to reach me.”

  “You believe her?” she asked.

  He sat back, running a hand over the back of his neck. He’d been thinking about that very thing. A lot. After he left her, he’d gone a little crazy. He’d finally got what he wanted: Poppy in his bed. But the morning after, everything was...different. Hell, he’d felt different. He’d held her close, soft and warm against him, watching her sleep. And his damn heart had felt as if it were on the verge of pounding itself out of his chest. He’d been a damn fool to think Poppy was just another good time. She’d been...they’d been...real. Too real for someone like him. He’d only mess things up, hurting them both along the way. So he’d grabbed his boots and run, but he’d never found an escape.

  After Poppy, everything had been different. It had been awful. No matter how many soft and sweet women he took back to his room, he’d wish it were Poppy he was holding. Hundreds of miles, countless six-packs of beer and far too many bottles of whiskey later, he’d done his best to let her go. He didn’t remember much clearly. It was all sort of blurred and horrible. Made worse when her letters started coming. Letters he’d shredded without opening, too chicken to face words she’d written. Or what those words might do to him. She had tried. Over and over.

  It was his fault. All of it. It wasn’t easy to accept. “I...I do.”

  “What does she want?” she asked. “What’s she after, showing up now?”

  “She didn’t know I was here. She bought the old Travis place—off Highway One-Twenty-One? Plans on settling down, raise Rowdy here and opening a shop on Main Street.” He smiled.

  “Rowdy?” Tandy nodded. “Sounds like you. Strange how things turn out.”

  “Strange, yes. But it’s given me a second chance.” He rubbed his neck again. “I don’t want to screw this up.”

  Tandy sighed, her posture easing. “Then you need to make things right, Toben.” Her words were raw. “We know what it’s like to grow up without a father, how it eats at you, makes you doubt your worth. Give your son better than that.” She paused, her voice going hard. “Be there. Stay.”

  He heard the pain in her voice. “That’s the plan.”

  “Well...good.” She leaned back so the waitress could put her salad in front of her. “What about Poppy?”

  “She hasn’t changed.” He tried to keep his voice neutral.

  “You’re okay with that?” she asked.

  He shot her a look. “I’m not some lovesick kid, Tandy. Life goes on.”

  “This is me,” she pointed out. “So knock off the manly thing. She mattered, a lot. I don’t know what she did to you, but I remember how you fell apart. I don’t want you to go through that.”

  She hadn’t done a damn thing. Not that it mattered now. “She’s off the market and, no matter what you think, I won’t steal another man’s woman.” He took a bite of his hamburger.

  “That’s nice to hear.” Tandy grinned, pushing her salad around but not taking a bite.

  “Talk about a high opinion.” He laughed.

  “I love you, even when I don’t understand why you do what you do—which is the majority of the time. Maybe having someone watching you, someone that matters, will help you...grow up and be the man I know you can be.” She shook her head. “And don’t get offended—you know I’m right.”

  Toben swallowed, shrugging off the flare of irritation that her brutally honest words stirred. In the few days since Rowdy had entered his life, he’d been more intentional with his words and actions. “Doesn’t mean I want to hear it...” He glanced at her. “Thing is, I don’t know how to do that. To be a father a son can be proud of. But I want to.”

  “Oh, Toben.” Tandy set her fork down and leaned forward. “You do. Think of everything you wished we had—everything that would have mattered. That’s what you do for him.”

  Toben nodded.

  “Can I meet him?” she asked.

  He smiled. “Of course. I’m just biding my time until Mitchell leaves town.”

  Tandy’s brow arched. “Why? If this guy is a fixture in their lives, shouldn’t you come to terms with that?”

  Toben focused on his food then. “I’m doing the best I can. Right now Rowdy comes first. It was clear Poppy’s boyfriend wasn’t a fan of me. I don’t see the point in making things harder by being where I’m not wanted.”

  Tandy sighed. “And Poppy’s take?”

  “We haven’t had much time to talk.” He took another bite of his burger. It didn’t help that every time they were together, talking was the last thing on his mind. She unleashed a sort of charge along his skin, heightening his awareness and drawing him in. If he had something important to say, one look from her chocolate-brown eyes erased it from his mind. And made him itch to touch her.

  “Don’t you think you should make time?” Tandy brought him back to reality. “If you’re going to raise Rowdy together, setting ground rules is a good place to start.”

  The thought of sitting down with Poppy, laying out a plan for raising Rowdy... He could just see the flash of temper in her eyes. “Guess so,” he admitted grudgingly. “It’s not too soon?”

  “Too soon? I’m surprised you’re sitting here. I’d be there, dogging his every step and learning everything I can about him.” She shook her head, her expression shifting again. “Oh... You’re worried about making her angry?”

  He nodded. “I might believe her, about trying to tell me. But I don’t know if she believes me that I didn’t know.”

  She stared at him for a long time.

  “What?” he asked, setting the remains of his burger on the plate.

  “Put yourself in her shoes. I guess I’d be hard-pressed to believe you, too.” Tandy shrugged, taking a bite of her salad.

  He steered the conversation into more neutral territory. She was working as a vet technician in the teaching hospital but hoped to get accepted into the veterinary
medicine program that fall. She’d made the waiting list...and the waiting was taking its toll. He, on the other hand, had every confidence she’d be accepted. She was the smart one; she worked hard. Considering how hard the last few years had been on her, losing the man she loved and the baby they were expecting, it was about time something good came her way.

  He dropped her off at the veterinary hospital and crossed over the highway, driving down Main Street. Poppy’s big red truck was parked in front of her shop. The lead-glass door was propped open—so Toben took it as an invitation.

  He pulled in next to her truck, turned off the ignition and climbed out. “Poppy?” he called from the doorway.

  He wandered inside, running his hands along the woodwork of the shelves. The store hadn’t looked this good in years, all detailed craftsmanship, quirky cubbies and custom built-ins. He heard the telltale sound of a grinder in the back room and headed that way, pausing when he came to a stack of rodeo memorabilia.

  Pictures, newspaper clippings, certificates, plaques, ribbons... Poppy’s career. An impressive career, one she should be proud of. One their son was proud of.

  He flipped through the framed pictures, pausing at a picture of Poppy and Rowdy sitting on their mounts. Rowdy was little—his hat on his head, tiny hands gripping the saddle horn.

  “Can I help you?” Mitchell Lee stood in the doorway, wearing an openly hostile expression and holding a shelf.

  Toben refused to be goaded. “I was looking for Poppy.”

  “She’s home with the kids.” Mitchell placed the shelf against the wall and wiped his hands on a bandanna. “Need something?”

  He shook his head. “Saw her truck and thought I’d stop by, see if I could help.”

  Mitchell tucked the bandanna into his back pocket. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to help?” Mitchell asked. “I know you’re hoping to connect with Rowdy but helping Poppy doesn’t connect you with your son.”

  Toben waited, sensing Mitchell had more to say on the matter. Not that he necessarily wanted to hear what this man had to say.

  “Poppy says you didn’t know anything about Rowdy? That this was all some sort of surprise?” The corner of Mitchell’s mouth cocked up, a challenge in his eyes. “Thing is, I don’t buy that. And...I don’t like you.”

  Toben’s laugh was pure surprise.

  “More important, I don’t like what you’re trying to do.” Mitchell put his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowing.

  “And what am I trying to do?”

  “Get even.” Mitchell’s voice was sharp.

  Toben’s heart stopped.

  “She hurt you. You want to hurt her.” Mitchell stepped forward. “I’d advise against it. No way I’m going to let you hurt either one of them.”

  He wasn’t laughing anymore. He didn’t want to hurt Rowdy. Or Poppy—even if he was still pissed at the circumstances. “You don’t know me.” His fists clenched at his sides.

  “I know of you. And what I know is enough.” Mitchell shook his head. “Poppy and Rowdy are my family and you’re not going to change that. Consider this a warning.” He stepped closer. “You mess with the bull, you’ll get the horns.”

  Toben clenched his jaw, holding himself rigid. He wouldn’t take the bait. He wouldn’t knock that smug smile off Mitchell’s face—even if his hand itched to do so.

  “Course, your rodeo record shows you were shit with the bulls. Your best sport was charming the jeans off every buckle bunny that crossed your path. Poppy—and Rowdy—deserve better than that.”

  Toben didn’t have time to think. His fist flew out, connecting with Mitchell’s set jaw and rattling the bones of his hand. “Dammit,” he muttered. He’d knocked Mitchell back but not down.

  The man straightened—a scowl on his face. “You sure you want to do this?”

  Toben didn’t have time to answer. Mitchell’s fist slammed into his left eye. For a split second, all Toben saw was stars and blackness. A sharp throb, a blinding heat... He shook his head.

  “Much as I’d like to finish this, Rowdy wouldn’t approve,” Mitchell snapped.

  Toben flexed his hands, the fight going out of him. He’d just done what he’d sworn not to do—lose his cool. He stared at the ceiling, blinking until his vision cleared. “I don’t need to prove anything to you—”

  “You just did. You want to raise a hotheaded boy? Someone who throws a fist before thinking things through? I knew what I was doing. And that you’d swing.” He shook his head, rubbing his jaw. “You’ve got a hell of a lot to prove to Rowdy. And Poppy...” He shook his head. “You don’t get it. You don’t get hard work or sacrifice... Poppy’s been taking hits for years and never complained. Nothing stopped her. She never gave up. After Rowdy’s birth, after the accident, after losing her grandfather—she got up every damn time. She’s a fighter.”

  Toben stared at the man, shaken by the desperation in Mitchell’s voice. Toben understood. Mitchell Lee loved Poppy and Toben was a threat. He felt a grudging respect for the man. Poppy had every right to someone who’d love and protect her so fiercely. And though it was none of Toben’s business, he couldn’t help but wonder if Poppy loved Mitchell, too.

  Chapter Six

  “You got everything?” Poppy asked, shifting the inner tube to her other arm.

  “How long will this take?” Dot asked.

  “Why are we doing this?” Otis whined.

  “It’s hot,” Rowdy said. “And it’s fun.”

  “Can you swim?” Otis countered.

  Rowdy nodded, smiling at Poppy. “Come on, Ma.” He ran ahead, following the dirt path that cut down and around behind their small house to the river below.

  Poppy paused, appreciating what was now her property. There was a slight hill leading to the river, several tall oak and pecan trees casting patches of cover. She could only imagine how the place would look when the bluebonnets were blooming. Her gaze wandered, imagining a sea of blue, waving in the breeze.

  At the base of the hill, the Medina River waited. The shore of the river was made of pebbles and rock. Small fish, more rocks and bright green patches of green moss were visible beneath the clear water. She’d read enough on the area to know that its depth varied widely, so she didn’t want the kids exploring on their own—not yet.

  Rowdy walked out onto one especially large flat rock that extended into the river.

  “How deep is it?” Otis asked.

  “Not deep,” Rowdy answered. “I can see the bottom.”

  “Wait for me,” Poppy called out.

  “Going tubing?” Toben’s voice at her side made her jump. “Sorry.”

  “I didn’t hear you.” She turned, instantly aware of the crackle in the air between them. Suddenly her cutoff jeans and pink tank top seemed revealing—her bikini underneath downright indecent. Not that there was anything wrong with what she was wearing. He’d seen her in a lot less. Besides, everything she owned was modest. And they were going tubing, after all. But she didn’t miss the way he looked at her, those blue eyes...

  “Your face?” she asked, angry colors marring his cheek and brow, reaching up. She hadn’t meant to touch him, to feel how soft the hair at his temple was or note the slight hitch in his breath.

  His hand encircled her wrist. “Nothing worth talking about.” His voice was gruff and deep, making her toes curl against the rubber soles of her flip-flops.

  His hold was gentle, the roughened skin of his thumb brushing slowly against the inside of her wrist. The summer breeze blew, making his curls brush her fingertips and his scent flood her nostrils. Why did it have to be this way between them? Fragments of memory, the jolt of sensation. How could she still remember how he tasted? How it felt to be pressed beneath him? An instantaneous ache racked her. She pulled her hand b
ack, ignoring the tingles—ignoring the white-hot want.

  Worse, he seemed just as affected as she was. His gaze centered on her lips, the muscles of his jaw clenching tightly.

  She shifted the inner tube, holding it in front of her, needing a barrier. “It’s a hot day. Figured we could swim a little.”

  He nodded, his gaze sweeping over her face.

  “You coming?” Rowdy called. When he turned and saw Toben, his smile grew. “Hi! You coming, too?”

  Poppy held her breath. On the one hand, it was a bad idea. On the other, she wouldn’t mind the help. Did Otis and Dot swim well? She’d asked and they’d leveled their signature dismissive look her way—she had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

  “Okay with you?” he asked.

  She nodded, unable to look him in the eye.

  “Give me a sec,” he yelled, running back toward the house.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered all the way down to the river. “No, Toben, you can’t come with us,” she whispered. “Maybe next time. Maybe never.”

  “What’d you say, Ma?” Rowdy asked, sticking his feet in the river. “Ah man, it’s cold.”

  “Is it?” she asked.

  Rowdy nodded, splashing her.

  She squealed, shielding her face and giggling. “Rowdy!”

  She wriggled out of her shorts and top, kicked off her flip-flops and eased into the cold, clear water with a sigh. “This is perfect.”

  The kids waded into the water with her, laughing and splashing each other until they were all dripping wet. Seeing them having fun, acting like kids, made the day that much sweeter.

  “How long can you hold your breath?” Dot asked, disappearing below the water.

  While the kids took turns, Poppy did her best not to keep checking the path. He’d get here when he got here—no point in rushing things. But the longer he took, the more anxious she grew. Finally, he was heading down the hill—and she groaned, ducking under the water. She should have told him no, should have made him leave. She let the water’s icy temperature cool her down. When she resurfaced, she focused all her energy on keeping a blank face.