by Erica Penrod
Kyle appeared oblivious to his present surroundings.
Jaxon shifted in his seat, his eyes gaping at the daydreamer. “How long did you know her?” he asked.
“Just for a few months … I’m not sure what she’s told you.” Kyle shook his head as if clearing away memories strung like cobwebs.
“Until recently, very little.” Race took his hat from his head and set it on the table. “That’s why I’m here.”
Kyle cleared his throat. “We were young and knew there wasn’t a future for us. We both had dreams and couldn’t see a way to achieve them together.”
Jaxon pushed his hat back on his forehead and leaned back into the couch. “All these years, and you never once mentioned that you had another child?”
“It was complicated.”
“Sounds pretty straightforward to me,” Jaxon said.
Race could feel the tension rise between the two men. He could understand that—had felt tension of his own when he found out the man who raised him wasn’t his biological father. “When did you find out about me?”
“Megan contacted me when she found out she was pregnant. I didn’t know what to do, and I told her I’d marry her, but she turned me down.” He paused for a moment. “She said we still wanted different things out of life. I knew she was right, and she was strong enough to raise you on her own.” Kyle smoothed his mustache. “Megan kept in touch, and when she met James, I knew at that time in my life you’d be better off with him, so I signed over my rights.”
“You didn’t ever want to see me?” Race asked. His feelings teetered between a white flag and hostile territory.
“Of course I did, but I thought it would’ve made things more difficult for you. Your mother sent pictures and emails every so often; they were enough to let me know I made the right decision.” Kyle stood up. “If you’ll excuse me for second.” He walked out of the room.
Race looked at Jaxon. The effects of being blindsided were written across his face like neon graffiti on a white brick building. His heart went out to his half-brother. They were both victims of their parents’ decisions. “I’m sorry about all of this. Believe me, I know it’s a lot to take in.”
“I guess you could say that.” Jaxon let out a deep breath. “How long have you known about us?”
“Over a year. My mom told me when I was a child that my father adopted me as a baby, and I guess it didn’t matter that much because I had a family.” Race looked up at the childhood pictures of his half-brother and the sister he hoped to meet soon. Then he turned back to Jaxon. “It wasn’t until I was older that I started asking questions. She told me about Kyle, showed me an old photograph of them together at a county fair. That was enough until I was in college and decided to do some research on my own. That’s when I found out about you and Brynna. I followed you on social media and then of course the television show.”
“So why now?” Jaxon leaned forward. “I mean, what made you decided to track us down?”
Race looked around the room. “To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure.” He looked over at Jaxon. “Age, maybe. Getting older tends to change your perspective on things.”
“How old are you?” Jaxon asked.
“He’s twenty-seven,” Kyle said, walking into the room, holding a tattered boot box.
Both Race and Jaxon stared at the container as if it were Pandora’s Box.
“These are some of the things your mother sent me over the years,” Kyle said, sitting down across from them in his chair. He blew on the lid, and dust drifted into the air. Inside, yellowed papers and photographs were piled randomly.
Race didn’t know what to feel—flattered that his biological father had kept them or just plain irritated that, to Kyle, Race’s whole life fit in a size-ten boot box.
“Looks like you’ve always done well in school,” Kyle said to Race. “You get that from your mother.”
Race didn’t answer.
“Jaxon tends to take after me. We like to learn things through the school of hard knocks.” While it may have been a fair comparison, Race didn’t know for sure; Kyle’s tone was full of judgment.
Race felt the couch cushion shift as his half-brother stood up. “As much as I’d like to stick around for this family reunion, I’ve got things to do.”
Race got to his feet and stepped to the right, allowing Jaxon to pass. “It was nice to meet you,” Race said, wishing he knew what to say to him. He admitted there was a part of him that wanted Jaxon to be thrilled with having an older brother.
“Yeah, you too,” Jaxon replied, but there was an edginess to his voice, cutting any ties of biological brotherly love and making Race wonder if he’d made the right decision to come here. He’d been so wrapped up in his own head that he didn’t think about what this would mean for Jaxon and Brynna.
“I’d like to meet Brynna, if that would be possible.” He had a sense that Jaxon would be the one to stand in his way, not Kyle—and he wanted to do this without causing more problems.
Jaxon nodded his head with a solemn look on his face.
“Janie told me she and her husband live around here.”
Frost covered Jaxon’s dark eyes. “Janie spoke to you?”
“Yes, she and the other women at the salon were full of information.”
Kyle snorted. “I bet they were.”
Jaxon didn’t appear to find any humor in the situation. He moved to the door and pulled on the handle. “Look.” He paused and looked at Race. “Whatever happens between you and Brynna, that’s your business. But for me, I like things the way they are. The last thing I need is one more story for the tabloids to get a hold of. Especially about my long-lost rich and spoiled brother.”
Race felt his temper flare and glared down at Jaxon. So what if Jaxon didn’t want anything to do with Race? That didn’t excuse his demeaning tone.
Kyle got up and stood between his sons. “Jaxon, that three-ring circus chasing you all over the country ain’t nobody’s fault but your own.”
Jaxon’s nostrils flared. “Well, that three-ring circus is the reason you’re still living in this house.”
Kyle’s brown eyes looked like thunder about to clap, and Race intervened. “I didn’t come here to cause problems for anyone.”
Jaxon zeroed in on Race. “Look, I don’t know why you’re here, and I don’t care. Just stay away from me and my wife.”
“You mean ex-wife,” Race muttered. The lawyer in him kept things clear and precise.
In one deliberate motion Jaxon pulled back and swung, his meaty fist connecting with Race’s jaw. Race stumbled back as the door flew open, and Janie stepped inside. He held his chin, shocked that he hadn’t seen that coming and embarrassed that Janie saw the whole thing.
Janie’s hands went to her face. “Jaxon! What in the heck do you think you’re doing?”
Chapter 3
Janie arranged the ice pack to cover the purple bruise forming on the lower half of Race’s jaw. Jaxon, why do you have to do stuff like this?
“For a little dude, he sure throws a mean punch.” He leaned his head against the couch. Jaxon had taken off seconds after their altercation.
“I know. Around here, he’s notorious for that right hook.” She smiled, but knew the smile wasn’t for him. Her eyes were full of Jaxon.
Race arched his eyebrows. “It was even on an incline.”
Janie sighed. “I know. Jaxon blowing up was exactly what I was afraid of. That’s why I came out as soon as I could rearrange my schedule.”
Kyle came in with a couple cans of soda. He handed the diet one to his daughter-in-law—ex-daughter-in-law, as Race had so aptly pointed out to Jaxon—and the other to Race.
“Thanks,” they said in unison.
“I’m really sorry about all of this.” The ice wouldn’t stay put, and Janie touched his face in cautious movements, afraid she might push on a tender spot. “Jaxon doesn’t process his feelings very well until he acts on them and does something stupid.” With t
he cold pack in place for the moment, she took a sip of her cola. “Then he spends a lot of time apologizing and trying to figure out how it happened in the first place.”
She studied Race’s face. She hadn’t meant to stare—okay, she did, but it was still so unbelievable to see a face so much like the one she’d been in love with for most of her life.
“It’s a little weird, isn’t it?” Race asked.
Janie’s eyes darted to the floor. “What is?”
“The resemblance.”
Kyle cleared his throat. “I could tell from the pictures that you two looked a lot alike, but in person, it’s almost eerie.”
“It’s like you’re identical twins separated at birth,” Janie said. Her hand flew up and covered her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that,” she said through her fingers.
Race laughed, and the ice pack fell into his lap. “It’s all right. I kind of expected this reaction. Imagine how I felt when I saw him for the first time.”
“You’ve seen him before?” Kyle asked.
“I went to Las Vegas for the finals his rookie year,” Race said. “Believe it or not, a little kid in a ten-gallon cowboy hat came up and asked me for his autograph.”
“What did you do?” Janie asked. She pulled a magazine over and set her can on top of it.
“I didn’t know what to do, but I apologized and corrected him. I told him I was flattered and asked him what he liked about Jaxon. The kid recited a list long enough to make him forget about the autograph.” Race took a big swallow of his drink before holding the cold can to his jaw. “That’s when I knew it wasn’t just me. I looked like him—or, in chronological order, he looked like me.”
Kyle rubbed his chin as if he’d been the one punched in the jaw. If ever he deserved a right hook, Janie thought, today was the day.
“I guess all of this is a little hard to take. What do you think we should do about Brynna?” Kyle asked Janie. “I don’t want her getting all riled up, with the baby and all.”
“She has a baby?” Race’s eyes lit up.
“In the oven,” Kyle said. “And so does Janie.”
Janie felt her cheeks heat through.
Race’s eyes glanced down at her stomach. “I didn’t realize that.” He scrunched his eyebrows together.
“I found out I was pregnant not long after Jaxon and I signed the divorce papers.”
“Oh.”
Now it was Janie’s turn to laugh. “You’re not the first person to wonder.”
“It didn’t change things between you?”
Janie felt herself give in to the sadness for a moment. “No. If anything, it made me realize we did the right thing.”
“How’s that?” Race asked, and Janie noticed the way he spoke. His accent exuded confidence. He sounded educated and professional.
“I never wanted to hate Jaxon, but the way things were going, nothing but animosity seemed to follow us. I didn’t want to live that way.”
“She’s leaving out the part where Jaxon acted like an imbecile,” Kyle growled.
Janie smiled at Kyle. He’d always had a soft spot for her and treated her better than he did his own kids, something she never understood. “I’ve spent almost all of my life loving him, and I’d have nothing to show for it if we became enemies.” She paused, pushing the pain into the shadows of her mind. “I decided to end it before it got that far, and then, when I found out I was pregnant …” she touched her growing belly, “I knew I’d always have part of him in my life, and maybe we’ll find a way to be good parents.”
“Then he goes and does something like that,” Kyle said, pointing at Race’s bruised jaw. “I’m sorry about that, son.”
When he realized what he’d said, Kyle looked away. But Race didn’t flinch, appearing to be unaffected by the name. “Excuse me,” Kyle said, and walked into the kitchen.
Janie gave Race a half smile. “I’ll be right back.” Following Kyle into the kitchen, she watched him brace himself against the sink, his hands dry and callused, years of hard physical labor ingrained into his skin.
“Are you okay?” Janie asked. She put her hand on his shoulder. Even though he was a difficult person to live with, it frightened her to see this hard-headed man she’d come to love fighting his emotions. Just like Jaxon, Janie could see through his façade and knew there was a good man inside. Kyle had shown up at her house every day after her parents died. He’d knock on the door, and after he saw her, he’d turn around and leave. After a couple weeks, he’d pull into the drive, and she’d wave from the window. They never talked about it, and Janie suspected that was most of the problem on the Davis ranch. No one ever admitted to an emotion. Maybe it was the law of the cowboy. Kyle had always been a rock, inside and out, but seeing his firstborn son was eroding his impenetrable surface.
“I’m fine.” He coughed and cleared his throat. “I came in for a drink.”
“Okay,” she said. “Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll get one for you.”
He nodded his head and pulled a chair from the table. Underneath the wooden legs, a groove in the yellow linoleum marked the path across the floor.
Janie opened the cupboard and took out a glass. “What would you like?” she asked, as she placed ice cubes in the glass.
Kyle huffed. “I know what I’d really like, but that’s not going to happen, so how about a Coke?”
“You got it.” Opening the fridge, she pulled a can of soda from a twelve-pack box. It was still strange to see soda where a permanent case of beer used to reside. There was a gallon of milk, a couple eggs, something in a Tupperware dish, and some condiments long past their expiration date. She poured the drink and asked, “When’s the last time you went grocery shopping?”
“I don’t know.” He took a swallow. “Brynn has me over for dinner most nights, and other than that, I keep the burger place in business.”
Janie took the dishes from the sink and set them on the counter so she could clean. “Race,” she called into the living room, “why don’t you join us?” She bent over and took a scouring pad and scrubbed out the sink; she needed to think.
“Sure.” He appeared in the doorway with his hat on.
“We can talk in here, and I can do the dishes.”
“Good grief, woman!” Kyle said. “You don’t need to clean something every time you come over.”
“Kyle, how long have you known me?” Janie asked.
Race glanced back and forth between them.
Kyle turned to Race. “She ain’t happy unless she’s washing something, and you better watch out, because she’s been known to rearrange the furniture right out from underneath you.”
“I have not.” Janie slapped the dish towel across the table, feigning offense.
Kyle and Race laughed.
“Have a seat.” Kyle pointed to the chair across from him.
“I think I’d better get going,” Race said. “I appreciate you talking with me.”
“What’s the rush?” Kyle asked, and Janie could hear a nervous pitch to his voice as she finished the sink and started on the dishes.
“I’ve got some depositions I need to attend to, and it’s been a pretty eventful afternoon for all of us.” He rubbed the purplish mark across his jaw.
“Are you staying in town, then?” Janie dried the plates and stacked them in the cupboard.
“Yes—at least, I think I am. I haven’t gotten a room yet.”
“You can stay here,” Kyle offered.
“Thank you, but I think we could all use a little time to process this, and I don’t want to bother Jaxon any more than I have to.”
“All right, if that’s what you want.” Kyle poured a big gulp of soda down his throat.
“But I would like to meet Brynna, if that’s okay?”
Janie looked at Kyle to answer, but he kept quiet. “I can get in touch with her,” she said to Race. “If that works for you, Kyle?” she asked.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” he answered, but she wasn’t
sure he heard what she said.
“How about dinner at my place tomorrow night?” She checked with Race, finding comfort in his Jaxon-like features. “I’ll call Brynna and get it all arranged.”
“Wait,” Race said. “Is this the best way for her to find out she has another brother, or should I go to her house first?”
Kyle didn’t respond, which left Janie feeling anxious.
“I actually think it’ll be good for me to talk to her before she meets you.” Janie rinsed her hands off in the warm water. “To be honest, I’m a little surprised she hasn’t shown up yet. The girls at the salon must be slowing down in their old age. Gossip spreads faster than a grass fire around here.”
Race nodded his head. “Well, okay then. We’ll plan on tomorrow night.”
“Seven?” Janie asked, as she dried her fingers. “Can I get your number in case I need to get in touch with you?” She took the phone from her back pocket.
“Sure.” He pulled his out and pushed a couple buttons. “I’ll need your address.”
“That’s easy. That little orange brick house you passed before you turned up the lane, the one with the two big trees out front. That’s my place.”
“Okay, that makes it easy.”
“I guess we’ll see you tomorrow,” Kyle said, finally breaking his silence. He remained hunched over his cup of soda, guarding it like a puppy with a bone.
Janie tucked her bangs behind her ear. “I’ll walk you out.” Her easiness around Race was difficult to describe, whether it was him or his Jaxon-like face, but either way, she liked him, and he was easy to talk to.
“Thanks,” Race said.
“No problem.” She hung the towel on the oven door handle, content that at least the kitchen was in hand, even if the Davis family was all over the place this afternoon. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Kyle, who nodded.
Out on the porch, Janie looked up at Race. “I think Kyle’s a little overwhelmed. It’s not like him to be quiet.”
