Faith in the Cowboy (Taming the Cowboy) (8 page)

He seemed to take longer than usual, wanting to play with every bathtub toy he had. She managed to get him bathed and shampooed, and made him get all his toys out of the tub before she scooped him up to dry him off. He peed in the toilet, then ran, shrieking and naked, down the hall.

“Just like his dad,” West laughed.

“Find something on TV he can watch,” she called to West as she followed the boy into his bedroom, where he picked out his favorite Disney pajamas.

Five minutes later, Noah was barreling down the hall, and Boomer jumped off the couch to follow. He leaped onto West, who caught him easily and settled the child against his side. The puppy joined them. Something twinged in Teresa’s chest, not connection this time, but suspicion. She sat on the couch, too, far enough away that he raised his eyebrows. She ignored him and turned her attention to the television.

After the program, she shuffled Noah off to bed, read him a story, one she knew by heart, thank goodness because her concentration was off. Finally she saw Noah’s eyes drift shut, and she returned to the living room where West had changed the channel to some action movie she didn’t recognize. Boomer snored beside him.

She leaned against the doorway and folded her arms. “You have a kid.”

He dragged his gaze from the TV to her, then sighed and clicked off the television. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shifted on the couch, one arm stretched across the back, the other along the arm. “It’s complicated.”

She snorted a laugh. “I know complicated.”

“My ex, she’s in Houston with my son, remarried to a guy with two kids of his own. I’m in San Antonio most of the year, then I go on the road with the rodeo. I don’t see him much.”

“How old is he?”

“Ten.”

That surprised her. “How old are you?”

His lips quirked. “Thirty.”

“How long ago did you split up?”

“We split up when he was a little older than Noah. I tried to stay involved for a while, but being a paramedic, and riding the rodeo—I only see him like every other month. He’s happier that way. Her new guy, Mike, is a good guy, a good dad.”

Her heart plummeted. She’d known he’d been too good to be true, but to walk away from his own son...

“Why didn’t you move to Houston to be closer?”

He drew in a breath. “We talked about it, my ex and me. I had better opportunities in San Antonio.”

“But your son was in Houston. Isn’t that more important than advancement in the fire department?” She couldn’t imagine being in a different city than her daughter. If, God forbid, she didn’t get Emily back, if Layla moved her to another town, Teresa would drop everything, would live on the street if that was what it took, to be near her daughter.

“She wanted a fresh start with Mike and his kids. Wanted them to be a family. Wanted me to back off.”

“How could she ask that of you? He’s your son.” What had he done to make her leave him? He’d seemed too perfect. She knew he’d been too perfect.

“I was an asshole to her, Teresa. I loved any excuse to get away. I mean, we had Taylor when we were so young, we never really got to have fun. So I took mine anyway. She resented it. She figured she did most of the parenting, I lost my chance.”

Wow, she’d gotten him wrong. Yes, maybe he’d changed in the past few years, but she could sympathize with his ex.

“You don’t miss him?”

“I did, at first.” He scratched at his beard, not looking at her anymore. “Tore my heart out every day. He was a good kid, a lot of fun. But then weeks would go by when I couldn’t get to Houston, and my ex wouldn’t bring him to San Antonio, said it was too far with a little kid in the car. I get that, she was right. And even when I got up there, you know, it made him uncomfortable having me around, made me uncomfortable.”

“But he’s your son.”

“I know.” He rubbed his hand up and down the arm of the couch, not looking at her.

“Do you talk to him, at least?”

He shrugged. “Not so much any more. He’s busy. In soccer and all that. Practices every day, homework, doesn’t really have time for me.”

She sank to the chair across from him. “All that lost time, West. You’re never going to get it back.”

“Which is why I don’t talk about it.”

His voice held an unfamiliar edge that made her snap her head up. She nodded slowly, wondering why he stayed if he didn’t want to talk.

“Right.”

She pushed away from the wall and headed toward the kitchen, not knowing what she’d do when she got there, since West had already loaded the dishwasher. He jumped off the couch and followed, catching her hand.

“Teresa.”

She had a hard time meeting his gaze. Why was she so disappointed? Their relationship was just for fun, just physical. If he had kids all over the country, it wouldn’t matter. He was just a lay.

“Teresa.” He touched her chin, lifting it with the edge of his finger. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

She met his gaze, willing her eyes not to fill in her disappointment. “You don’t owe me an explanation.” They’d only known each other a few days. Why did it seem longer?

“I’m not the same guy.”

“I’d do anything to see my daughter every day. I guess I just can’t understand a parent feeling any other way.” When he opened his mouth, she held up a hand to stop him. “It’s not my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Do you want me to go?”

She drew in a breath, then nodded. He stepped back, frowning, and turned toward the door.

“I’ll be ready at six thirty to take you to school.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, and wished she didn’t have to depend on him. “Thank you.”

*****

West stepped into his RV earlier than he’d intended. He’d blown it in there, with Teresa. He knew how anxious she was about getting her daughter back. He should never have talked to her about Taylor.

He sat at the dinette and pulled out his cell phone. He considered it or a moment before, thought about the time difference before he tapped Taylor’s name on the screen. Taylor wasn’t old enough to have his own phone, but West couldn’t bring himself to have Holly’s name in his phone.

Not entirely her fault. Hell, not much of her fault at all. More the fault of his guilt, something he buried most of the time. Teresa was right—all that lost time. His son changed every time West saw him, became more and more a stranger. Again, his fault.

“What are you doing calling so late?” Holly demanded in greeting.

“It’s just after nine. I know Taylor had practice today.”

“It’s after ten, and everyone’s in bed.”

He grimaced. He was in Pacific timezone, Taylor was in Central. Two hour time difference. How had he miscalculated that?

“How’s he doing? Doing okay?”

He expected to hear her say, “What do you care?” Instead she blew out a sigh. “He’s failing math.”

“Pretty sure that’s not my fault.” As soon as he said it, he regretted his defensiveness. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyebrows. “Sorry. Sorry. You want me to talk to him? You think it would do any good?”

He could almost hear her grinding her teeth. “You might try being fatherly.”

He might try. Scared the hell out of him, but he might try. “What time will he be home tomorrow?”

After he hung up with Holly, he went to bed, alone, and wondered if Teresa would be proud of him.

Then wondered why it mattered.

*****

She was quiet when she got into the car the next morning, but passed him a travel cup, warm and heavy.

“I made you coffee.”

A peace offering, maybe? He took the cup and settled it in the cup holder, then leaned across the cab to kiss her lightly on the mouth. She touched his cheek, but looked away when he eased back, so he didn’t know if he was forgiven or not. He took a sip of coffee and guided the truck out onto the road.

“I called Taylor last night.”

“Your son?”

“He was already in bed, but my ex said I could call him today.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“She said he’s having trouble in school. In math. Hell, Teresa, I don’t know what to say to him. ‘Study harder?’ ‘Listen to your teacher?’ I sucked at math. I sucked at school.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to be a dad anymore. It was easy when he was little, right, just keep him out of danger, keep him from sticking his fork in the outlet or putting his hand on the stove. I don’t know how to deal with attitude, especially long-distance.”

“When does he have spring break? Maybe she can send him to you?”

“What, like...here? To Las Vegas? Have him, what, sleep in my RV?”

She shrugged. “I’m just saying what I would do, if I had any rights in my daughter’s life.”

He looked across the cab at her sad face. He knew she was right, that she’d do anything to have her daughter with her.

“I’ll talk to Holly.”

“Good.”

He was doing the right thing. So why did terror flutter in his chest?

*****

The terror was a full-blown raptor when he sat at his dinette and stared at the phone in his hand. Why were kids so hard to talk to? Partly it was because he had a pretty good idea the kid didn’t want to talk to him. Why should he? He only saw him a few times a year.

He tapped the number and brought the phone to his ear. “Is this a better time?” he asked when Holly answered with an exasperated, “Hello?”

“We’re driving home right now.”

“You’re driving. Taylor’s not.” He wished every time he talked to her wasn’t a confrontation, but he figured he deserved it.

He heard a muffled exchange, a little tension in Holly’s tone, a little resentment in Taylor’s. Then Taylor’s voice on the line.

“Hi, Dad.”

Wow, yeah, resentment. West’s stomach clenched. “Hey, buddy. What’s up. I hear soccer’s done? You got anything else going on?”

“No.”

Great. Pulling teeth would be easier. “How’s school?”

“Fine.”

“How’s math?”

A big sigh. “Mom told you?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“Math sucks, is what.”

“Have you talked to your teacher about it? Told her you don’t understand?”

“No, Dad, I’m an idiot.”

Great, just what he needed. Attitude. He already didn’t know what to say. “She won’t help you?”

“She wants me to come to tutoring before school and Mom can’t get me there on time.”

West’s own frustration rose. Why wouldn’t Holly do whatever it took to help Taylor? But he couldn’t put his son in the middle by asking him that. He’d have a separate conversation with Holly later.

“What kind of math is it?”

“Fractions.”

“Like, one-fourth, one-eighth?”

“Like decimals equivalent to fractions. And percentages.”

“Geez.” He curbed his language just in time. “In fifth grade?”

A little grunt that West couldn’t decipher.

“I wish I could help you, buddy, but math wasn’t my strength.”

“Great. Something else I get from you.”

West frowned, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. Sure, the kid had blonde hair and blue eyes like West, but for some reason he didn’t think that was what the kid was talking about. He was pretty sure any bad habit Taylor had was attributed to West’s genes.

He had to find something to say. “Hey, you have a break coming up soon, right? Spring Break?”

“Yeah.” Suspicion colored the kid’s voice.

West lost his nerve. “At least you’ll have a break from school, right?”

“Sure.”

Ugh, why was this conversation so hard? He didn’t know what else to say. “What else do you have going on? I mean, soccer’s done, right? Are you in baseball or anything?”

“No. I’m skateboarding.”

That surprised a chuckle out of him. “”I’m sure your mother loves that.”

The unexpected sympathy had the boy laughing too. “Yeah. You should see all the pads she makes me wear.”

“You’re her baby. She’s always going to treat you like that.”

“Yeah. Her baby.”

Whoa. A lot of bitterness for a ten-year-old. He should go see him.

Or bring him here.

“Look, Dad, I gotta go. Mom’s waiting for a phone call.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon. I love you, buddy.”

But all that was left was silence.

*****

Teresa shifted from one foot to the other as she waited for West in front of school. Sure, she'd given him coffee as a peace offering this morning, but he'd been half-asleep. Now he'd had all day to think about her sticking her nose in his business. And she had no peace offering today.

Her heart rate matched the pulse of his engine when he turned into the driveway. She ignored the teachers waiting to get another look at him as she rounded to the passenger side. Again, he flashed them a grin, but his expression changed when he turned his attention to her. His smile softened, warmed, grew more intimate. It hit her right below the belt.

Damn him.

He leaned across the cab to kiss her, but she held herself stiffly as he brushed his lips across hers.

"You don't have to put on a show for them," she said.

Something flashed in his eyes. "Is that what you think I'm doing?" He curved his hand around the back of her head and pressed his forehead to hers. "I missed you."

She couldn't—couldn't—let herself believe that. Even if she did, he'd be leaving, moving on soon. If he missed her after a few hours of work, what would happen when they were states apart?

He kissed her again, more firmly, before he pulled the truck out of the parking lot. 

"I'm thinking about bringing Taylor out," he said as he turned onto the main road.

"You talked to him?"

"For a little bit. Long enough to realize it won't be easy. But I was thinking about what you'd said, about lost time. I'm going to talk to Holly tonight.”

She should be happy he was taking this step, but selfishly, all she could think about was the time she'd lost with Emily. 

"I thought maybe you could help me think of some things I can do with him when he gets here. Maybe your mother-in-law will let you take Emily, and the four of us can do something."