by Anna Sugden
“Of course.”
Tension went through Jackson at the possibility Morgan could have found out already. If folks in town had seen Alex and realized he was Kayla’s son, they might easily have put two and two together already. Schuyler loved to gossip, and while he’d taken away Morgan’s smartphone and cut off her internet access, her friends had switched to calling the house phone.
“Okay, I’ll go home to tell Morgan while you go talk to Alex,” he suggested.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be having a number of discussions with my son. Good luck explaining yourself to your daughter. I’ll let you know when, and if, Alex wants to meet.”
Jackson watched Kayla’s trim form slip behind the wheel of her car and drive out of the park. Then he climbed into his Chevy and drove toward the Crazy Horse, his gut knotting tighter than before.
How was he going to tell Morgan that she had a heretofore-unknown brother, just a few weeks younger than her? It was hardly the sort of thing a man wanted to admit to his daughter, especially one who’d done little more than snarl at him for months.
* * *
MORGAN WOKE UP, groaning at the sharp knock on her bedroom door. She’d stayed up until 4:00 a.m. playing video games. It was summer—she didn’t have to do anything except her chores. And thanks to her dad, she couldn’t do a lot of what she wanted, though she couldn’t figure out why he cared enough to punish her.
Why was he being such a hard-ass? Hell, the sooner she was out of this house, the better.
The knocking continued.
“What?” she shouted.
“Morgan, we need to talk.”
“I was asleep.”
“It’s well after ten and I’m not going to wait. Drag yourself into the living room. I don’t like you staying up to all hours, then sleeping the entire day.”
“I was playing a video game.”
“Why couldn’t you do that in the morning?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
He muttered something behind the door. “I want you out here for a talk.”
“If I do, can I go to the lake with my friends? You only grounded me until Friday.”
“This isn’t a negotiation, Morgan. I have something serious to discuss.”
Jeez. Her dad thought everything was important, everything that mattered to him, at least. He didn’t give a crap about the things that mattered to her.
“Morgan?” he prompted sternly.
“Gimme a minute, I have to get dressed.” That way she could escape to the barns as soon as he was through with his lecture. And she knew it’d be a lecture, because it was always a blah-blah lecture about something.
Yawning, she pulled on her clothes and boots. The one thing her dad hadn’t taken away was her riding privileges; she could still go out on the Black when she wanted. That was, she could go if she didn’t ride too far and if she took the satellite phone and if she made sure someone knew where she was going. From what she’d heard, he’d never needed to do any of that when he was her age.
Three years ago she’d thought she was old enough to ride alone and he had said “no way.” He’d even admitted it would have been different if she was a boy. She wasn’t supposed to know, but Grandpa and Grandma had told him they thought he was wrong, so he’d finally backed down, except for the rules she had to follow.
Tying a bandanna around her neck, she cast a quick glance at the mirror. It was depressing. Okay, she wasn’t Katherine Heigl or anything, but she didn’t want to try to be pretty, did she? Dad probably wanted her to, though. He’d bought her a load of dresses for Christmas. Sometimes she thought that if he couldn’t have a son, he wanted a girlie-girl type daughter who wore dresses and got As in home sciences.
Throwing the door open, she stomped downstairs to the living room, hoping Flora was around. Her dad’s lectures didn’t last as long when the housekeeper could hear them, but she was probably in town doing the shopping.
Morgan dropped into an easy chair and muttered, “So what is it?”
“Don’t sulk.”
“I’m not.” She stuck her chin out. “Did you find some other way I’m screwing up your life and my life and everyone else’s life?”
“I never said you were screwing up anyone’s life and you know it.”
Okay, he hadn’t, but she knew what was behind the things he did say. She was tired of being the burr under everyone’s saddle. Maybe it was possible to get emancipated, the way she’d seen kids do on TV. The thought made her sick to her stomach, but it was something she should check out.
Her dad didn’t say anything else right away and Morgan wondered why. Was he saving up breath for yelling? Maybe, but he didn’t seem as angry as usual.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he finally started again.
“So tell me,” she said flippantly.
“Er...you obviously know I did a few things in high school that weren’t the smartest moves I could have made.” He said it as if he’d memorized the words.
“Yeah,” she answered slowly. “I’ve heard stuff. I know you were supposed to go to college, but you and Mom got married because she was pregnant with me, so everything had to change.”
He seemed a little surprised. “I suppose I should have discussed that with you.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Well, it turns out there’s more to the story.”
Dread hit Morgan’s stomach. She really didn’t want to discuss all the details. Her dad stared out the window as if he’d rather be anywhere but there. So what else was new?
“What about it?” she asked, unable to stand the suspense.
He turned around. “Your mother and I broke up briefly in high school and I dated other girls. One girl in particular. She’d only lived in Schuyler a few months, but her parents grew up here, and her grandparents still live in town. You know the Garrisons, don’t you? Kayla’s mother is their daughter.”
Sure, Morgan knew Mayor Garrison. He ate ice cream at the parlor almost every afternoon, right when school let out. She also knew he had a son who was a lawyer in town, and another kid who’d left Schuyler a long time ago. But Morgan didn’t know much else except he was nice and didn’t seem to mind if a bunch of kids came in at the same time he was there.
“So?” she pushed, now curious.
“So Kayla left and I haven’t heard anything about her since then. But now she’s visiting with her children. The oldest one’s name is Alex. This morning... Well, I learned that Alex is my son, and of course, that means he’s your brother.”
CHAPTER THREE
JACKSON STUDIED HIS daughter’s face as shock spread across it, along with other emotions that were harder to identify.
He’d hated revealing how badly he had messed up as a teenager. It had been a relief when he’d gotten back to the house and found her still asleep. The delay had given him time to think about how to tell her and rehearse it in his mind. The problem was, there wasn’t any way to make the situation sound better.
As for her guessing that he’d married her mother because she was pregnant...? Well, of course she had figured it out—all she’d had to do was compare her birth date with the day he and Marcy got married.
He ought to have already discussed it with Morgan, but he hadn’t wanted to take the chance of her guessing how much he had dreaded marrying Marcy. After all, while he’d dated Marcy on and off, he had never considered a future with her. But with a baby on the way, getting married had seemed the right thing to do.
“How do you know he’s your kid?” Morgan said after a long silence, an edge in her voice.
“I met with his mother this morning and saw his picture. He’s a McGregor.”
“Why didn’t she tell you before?”
He cleared his throat. “She did tell me, but I didn’t believe her. Anyway, her son looks enough like me that people may guess the relationship and talk. I didn’t want you hearing about it that way.”
“Why are they here
now?”
“Alex wanted to meet his great-grandparents. He’d just learned he was adopted by Kayla’s husband and was upset they never told him.”
“I’d be pissed, too.”
“Don’t use that sort of language,” he said on autopilot.
“Yeah, I know, it isn’t ‘ladylike.’”
She rolled her eyes and Jackson took a deep breath. What was wrong with a girl using nice language?
“What’s he like?” Morgan asked.
“We haven’t met yet, but I know he’s a baseball and science fiction fan.”
“Probably a geek. What’s she like?”
It was a question Jackson hadn’t anticipated. “Oh, Kayla has dark auburn hair and blue eyes. I don’t know. Smart, I guess.”
“Cripes, Dad. If that’s all my boyfriend could say about me, I’d give him the old heave-ho.”
“This isn’t about Kayla and...you have a boyfriend? Who is he?” he demanded.
“No one steady at the moment.”
“But you used to have a steady boyfriend?” Jackson asked, his heart rate accelerating. A child growing up on a ranch was familiar with the facts of life, but he wasn’t ready for Morgan to experience those facts firsthand. “You’re only fifteen—that’s too young to go steady.”
Morgan gave him an inscrutable look that didn’t admit or deny anything. “How old was Kayla when you knocked her up?”
Damn. Okay, he was an even bigger hypocrite than he liked to think about, but he was determined to keep his daughter from having to grow up too quickly.
“I don’t remember for sure,” Jackson replied. “And it’s none of your business, so don’t ask if you meet her, or Alex, either.”
“Am I going to meet him?” she said, angry defiance creeping back into her attitude.
“That’s partly up to Alex, but it’s fine with me and I don’t think his mother will object. Is that what you want?”
His daughter’s nose wrinkled, but he still couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
“I guess,” she said after a while.
“Is there anything you want to discuss?” he asked, wishing she’d give him a hint about her feelings. It would have been easier if he’d found out about Alex before she turned so ornery. Or perhaps when she was older and they’d figured things out.
Morgan hunched her shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“I mean...how do you feel about all of this?”
“What do I care if you have another kid? Maybe he won’t cause you as much trouble as me.”
Jackson leaned forward. “Morgan, we might be going through a rough patch, but it doesn’t—”
“Save it,” she interrupted and jumped to her feet. “I’m going for a ride.”
“Take the satellite phone,” he reminded her.
He counted to ten as Morgan disappeared, their faithful German shepherd at her heels. The discussion hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped, but slightly better than expected. His mom would say...
Ah, hell.
His parents also needed to be told about Alex, and it was news that should come from him. Jackson was reasonably certain they hadn’t heard yet or they’d have contacted him; nowadays his folks were pretty direct.
Suddenly he smiled with grim humor. His mother had not been thrilled when he and Marcy needed to get married so young, especially since going to college had seemed unrealistic with a family on the way. Still, when Morgan was born, Mom had loved her granddaughter wholeheartedly, saying a baby was always a blessing. And lately she’d begun complaining that her other grown children hadn’t settled down and given her more grandkids.
Punching his parents’ number on the phone, Jackson waited for an answer.
“Hi,” greeted Sarah McGregor’s voice.
“Hey, Mom, it’s Jackson. Do you remember the old saying, ‘be careful what you wish for’? Well, get Dad on the extension and grab a chair. I’ve got the perfect example.”
* * *
KAYLA LET HERSELF into the house and found her grandmother in the kitchen.
“Sorry for taking so long,” she apologized. “I stopped at Granddad’s office and we talked about the situation with Jackson and Alex.”
“It’s no trouble, dear,” Elizabeth said. “The kids are napping in the hammocks.”
“They’ll stay out there all day if we let them—I rousted them out of bed early for your terrific breakfast and they’re not morning people.”
“As I recall, neither were you.”
Kayla’s smile grew more strained. Her mother’s lifestyle had made sleep a challenge when she was growing up. It was ironic that with their more or less normal home and childhood, her kids hated going to bed. Of course, it was different when you wanted to stay up—Alex and DeeDee had never been forced to stay awake all night because of loud parties or feeling uncomfortable about who might be in the apartment.
Shaking the thought away, Kayla peeked into the pots on the stove. “It looks as if you’re making potato salad.”
“And fried chicken, yeast rolls and coleslaw. Also chocolate cake and sour cream lemon pie for dessert,” added Elizabeth. “Pete has been out of town for a few days, but he’s coming over tonight to see you and meet the kids. The weather is so pleasant, I thought it would be nice to have a picnic on the patio.”
Kayla had almost forgotten Uncle Peter. She’d only met her mother’s much younger brother a couple of times. He’d left for college shortly before Kayla’s stay in Schuyler.
“I should have asked before...how is Pete?” she asked.
“Doing well. He moved back last year to work in the practice and people are starting to, um, appreciate him as their lawyer.”
From the tone of her grandmother’s voice, Kayla suspected Schuyler was struggling to accept a young Garrison in place of the elder one, but “That’s nice” was her only comment. She didn’t have enough experience with small towns to know what was normal.
Elizabeth opened the refrigerator and studied the contents. “I had the grocer send over three chickens,” she said over her shoulder. “But maybe I should get another one.”
“Heavens, that’s more than enough. DeeDee doesn’t have a teenager’s voracious appetite yet, and while Alex may eat a little chicken, he’ll mostly fill up on the bread and salads.”
“I know. He’s trying to be a vegetarian.”
“This month, at least,” Kayla said wryly. “Anyway, you mustn’t wear yourself out cooking for us.”
“A picnic is nothing. I made ten gallons of chili and all the corn bread for the church’s booth at the rodeo.”
Kayla grabbed a carrot stick from a plate on the table and crunched it down. “Okay, so what can I do to help?”
“You don’t need to—”
“Yes, I do,” Kayla interrupted firmly. “And I want the kids to do chores while they’re here. They need to learn self-discipline.” Her grandparents were terrific people, but they were too indulgent.
“I’m sure you’re right,” her grandmother agreed slowly, a flicker of melancholy in her eyes.
Abruptly Kayla wished she hadn’t said anything—Granddad had spoken of how they blamed themselves for how their daughter had lived her life. Maybe they had made mistakes, but people needed to take responsibility for their decisions...such as having sex at sixteen. Kayla didn’t blame anyone else for her teen pregnancy. She might not have been as experienced as Jackson, but she’d known there could be consequences.
An hour later she was peeling eggs for the potato salad when Granddad arrived with sandwiches and milk shakes from the Roundup Café.
“Lunch,” he called.
The kids appeared at the back door, blinking sleepily.
“Don’t worry, I got a grilled cheese for you,” Granddad said to Alex. “They don’t serve much vegetarian food in Schuyler, but the toasted cheese isn’t bad.”
Kayla restrained a smile while her son tried not to look envious as everyone else unwrapped their hamburgers. The Roundup Café made a mean
burger, stacked high with juicy, fire-grilled patties, sliced onions, pickles, lettuce and tomatoes. If possible, they were even better than she remembered.
DeeDee smacked her lips when she was finished. “Yum. Too bad you’re a vegan, Alex.”
“Shows how much you know. I’m not a vegan. Vegans don’t eat cheese.” Alex popped a French fry into his mouth and chewed grumpily.
His sister shrugged. “Mom, can I go out and explore Schuyler some more?”
“Not yet,” Kayla said. “I’m going to talk with your brother right now, and after that we need to have another discussion.”
“Ah, Mom. Why can’t you talk to both of us together?”
“Shove it, squirt,” Alex warned, getting to his feet. “You don’t have to be in on everything.”
DeeDee stuck out her tongue.
“Careful,” Elizabeth warned. “A fly might land there.”
“Or it might get stuck that way,” Granddad added, “and you’ll have to go through life with your tongue hanging out like a sheepdog.”
“Oh, puleeze,” DeeDee groused.
Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled at her husband. “I’m afraid we’re behind the times, Hank. Our jokes are dated.”
“And proud of it.”
DeeDee giggled.
Even after such a short time with her grandparents, Kayla could see how comfortably the kids were settling in. It was something they’d never experienced, the sense of extended family. Curtis had been a foster child and Kayla’s mother was in and out of their lives—mostly out—depending upon her sobriety.
Back in Alex’s room he sat on the bed, while Kayla took the chair.
“I saw your birth father this morning,” she told him. “And I thought you might have some questions. I’ll tell you whatever I know.”
“No more secrets?”
“No more secrets,” she promised. “If I don’t have an answer for you, I’ll try to get one.”
“Okay. Last night you said it was complicated, you know, about why my birth dad never visited me in Seattle. Didn’t he know about me?”
Kayla swallowed. Depending on how she told her son, Alex might never want to meet Jackson. But as tempting as it was to keep him out of their lives, it wouldn’t be fair to her son.
