Texas Rebels: Phoenix

“What else?” Phoenix asked again, as if Pax hadn’t spoken.

Paxton sighed. “Phoenix.”

“What else?”

“Her horse’s name is Golden Lady, and the cowboys call Ms. Wilcott Frosty Lady because she’s shot down everyone who’s tried to date her.”

“I know that. What else?”

“Not much. Her friends call her Rosie, but she isn’t very friendly and she stays to herself, which you should do, too. Do you hear me?”

Phoenix couldn’t get that look in her eyes out of his mind. “She must be younger than me, because I don’t remember her in school.”

“Yeah. About four years, I think.” Paxton nailed him with a dark stare. “Why are you curious?”

“I don’t know. There’s just something about her. She seems so sad.”

“Is that why you laid into her like a crazy fool?”

“I didn’t know it was her. I thought it was a guy.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Someone who could punch your lights out. Right before a rodeo, I might add.”

Phoenix tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “What else do you know about her?”

Paxton groaned. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“I’m curious. That’s all.”

“I heard down at Rowdy’s beer joint that Ira McCray married her off to a man twice her age. The man was supposed to pour money into the McCray ranch to get it back on its feet. Rosemary filed for divorce a year later and Ira disowned her. I’d say not being able to see your family is a lot to be sad about.”

“Yeah.” Phoenix felt a stab of guilt for being so rude to her. It was just a reflex reaction to everything that was going on in his life. He didn’t want to be taken advantage of anymore.

Paxton opened his door. “Do you want to set up the trailer or check us in?”

Phoenix got out of the truck. “I’ll check us in.” As he passed Rosemary’s vehicle, he thought of going over and apologizing to her. But he knew the last thing she wanted from him was an apology. She wanted revenge, and in the days that followed she would probably find a way to get back at him.

Chapter Two

Rosie sat on the small sofa in her live-in horse trailer, willing the anger to subside. The trucks and trailers were parked in a field close to the rodeo arena. There were no marked spots. How dare he chastise her for taking up space? How dare he!

In a hurry because Dixie, her precious Jack Russell–mixed terrier, had to pee, she’d pulled in quickly, not noticing she was far away from the other vehicle. She’d opened the door and Dixie had hopped out to do her business. Then Phoenix Rebel had the nerve to pull in so close she couldn’t get out of her truck. Who did he think he was?

She’d seen him and his brother Paxton many times at the rodeos. She ignored them and they ignored her. It worked well considering their family histories. Until today. She should have refused to move her truck, but escalating a feud that should’ve died years ago was not one of her goals. She preferred a quiet, peaceful life, but bending to his will grated on her nerves.

The times she’d seen him around the rodeo, he was always laughing and joking with the cowboys, and some girl was always hanging off his arm. Today was a complete about-face from the guy she’d glimpsed on occasion. He’d lost his cool and she had no idea why. The parking couldn’t have been it. Was he just trying to get in a dig at her because she was a McCray? She didn’t care anymore. She was going to forget about the whole thing because she intended to ride very well at this rodeo. Her scores were good, and going to Vegas was her main goal. Her livelihood depended on how well she rode and how much money she’d make. And Phoenix Rebel was not going to break her stride.

Dixie whined and Rosie picked her up, stroking her. Dixie and Golden Lady, her palomino horse, were her family now. And that was just too sad even to think about. Her father had said she could never come home because she had betrayed the family. But living a lonely life was better than living the life her father had planned for her. She shook the memories away, refusing to let them get her down. She had to prepare for the rodeo.

A tap sounded at the door, and she jumped. It couldn’t be. Tentatively she got to her feet and opened the door. Haley Wilson stood there. A barrel racer, Rosie saw her at the rodeos and they’d become friendly. Rosie usually kept to herself, but Haley was outgoing and bubbly and sometimes wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Hey, I saw your trailer. You riding tonight?” With brown hair and brown eyes, Haley was a typical cowgirl with tight jeans, an equally tight shirt, boots and a Stetson. And a smile that stretched all the way to Austin.

“Yeah. Come in.” She never asked anyone into her living quarters, but today she did for some reason. Maybe that lonely thing was getting to her.

Haley looked around. “This is nice. Mine is much smaller, and I’m always happy to get home to my comfy bed, aren’t you?”

Rosie couldn’t tell her this was her home and comfy bed. This was where she lived full-time because she couldn’t afford anything else. Luckily Haley kept talking, so a response wasn’t necessary.

“When I start winning money, I’m upgrading big time.” Haley scratched Dixie’s head. “What a cutie.”

“She’s my roommate.”

Haley thumbed over her shoulder. “Isn’t that the Rebel boys’ trailer next to you?”

“Yeah. You got a thing for the Rebels?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no if they asked me out for a beer.”

Why were women such suckers? The Rebel boys only wanted one thing. But if Haley was willing, what business was it of Rosie’s?

Haley turned toward the door. “I gotta get my horse over to the arena. I’ll see you there. Good luck tonight.”

“You, too.”

Rosie slipped on a white sparkly Western shirt and tucked it into her jeans. At the arena, she would wrap Lady’s legs below the knee with white also. It was a thing with her to match, and her fans had come to expect it. She kissed Dixie goodbye and went out to the trailer to unload Lady.

When Rosie had first seen the palomino with the white mane and tail, she’d known she had to have her. She was a beautiful horse and she had speed unlike any horse Rosie had ever owned. Stroking her gently, Rosie cooed silly words to her, making sure no one could hear, especially Phoenix Rebel.

In minutes she had a saddle on her and was ready to ride over to the arena. With one boot in the stirrup, she noticed Phoenix coming out of his trailer.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” His voice was soft now with an underlying tone of huskiness, but it did nothing for her. She didn’t like the man.

“I have nothing to say to you. Now or ever. But I do hope the bull you ride tonight has big horns and points them south where the sun don’t shine.” She kneed Lady and rode away, enjoying the stunned look on his face.

* * *

PHOENIX GAVE UP trying to apologize to a woman who was as stubborn as a mule. He did enjoy her sense of humor, though. She could be his kind of woman except for one thing: she was a McCray and he was a Rebel. And that other thing, too. She hated his guts.

He didn’t know why he was thinking about her when he had enough on his plate to keep him occupied for the next few months. She ignored him for the rest of the rodeo and again when she saw him in Pasadena, Texas. The ignoring thing went on. Sometimes, just to annoy her, he would walk her way to see if she would react. She didn’t. They met up again in Tyler. The ignoring thing was set in stone.

By then, Phoenix was focused on his phone. He checked it at least twenty-five times a day to see if Ms. Henshaw had called. He thought of calling her but decided against that. He’d just wait in la-la land until the big moment.

In Tyler, Phoenix drew a bull called Buster, named because he busted cowboys’ scores. Paxton had ridden two rides ahead of him on Rough Stuff and had scored an eighty-six.

The bull was in the chute, snorting and angry, but the chute held him tight. It was time to ride. Phoenix adjusted the chaps that Jude had made for him and then worked on his spurs. Paxton was known for his red shirts, but Phoenix was known for his colorful plaid shirts. His protective vest was black, and he slipped his arms into the holes and got comfortable in it.

When he heard his name, he walked to the chute, climbed up and checked his bull rope. The stench of bull and urine filled his nostrils. At this point his stomach started to churn, and it took a moment for the feeling to subside. The stands were full tonight with eager, noisy fans. The bright lights beamed onto the arena. A hush came over the crowd as he eased on to the back of the huge, muscled, angry bull, who snorted and moved restlessly. Phoenix felt the enormous power beneath him, sucked air into his lungs and adjusted the braided bull rope to get the feel that he needed. With his glove on, he worked his hand into the handle on the rope.

Pax was on the chute to help him. “Have you got a good grip?”

“I got it.”

This is for you, Dad. He said that to himself before every ride.

He raised his left arm and nodded. The gate flung open, and Buster jumped head-down into the arena, kicking out with his back legs and going into a spin. Phoenix held on, his mind whirling as he counted in his head. Eight seconds always felt like thirty. He maintained his position, even spurring the bull so he would jump higher. At the buzzer he leaped off, stumbled and rolled toward the fence. The bullfighters had Buster headed toward the open gate.

He got to his feet, picked up his hat and waited for the score. Eighty-five. Damn. He’d expected it to be higher. That was the nature of riding.

The rodeo came to an end on Saturday night. Paxton and Phoenix placed first and second. It had been a long season and they would finish out in October before Vegas, just to keep practicing and maintaining their skill. They’d worked a lot of years to get to this point. It could all go wrong in a second, though.

At the arena, the cowboys were packing up, getting ready to move on to another rodeo. Eden, their brother Falcon’s daughter, had joined them. She was in college, but she barrel-raced occasionally.

“Hey, y’all going out to party tonight?” Cole Bryant, another bull rider, asked.

“You bet,” Paxton told him. “We’re taking Eden out for the evening.”

“If Eden’s going, then I’m coming, too.”

Phoenix threw an arm across Cole’s shoulder. “You touch my niece and I’ll have to hurt you.”

Cole held up his hands. “Okay. I got it, but why don’t you let her make up her own mind?”

“And why don’t I just punch you in the face?”

“Come on, guys.” Paxton got between them. “It’s Saturday night. Let’s have some fun.”

Eden, pretty as a picture with dark hair and green eyes, walked up. “Where are we going tonight?” She wiggled her hips. “I’m eager to dance, especially with my uncs.”

Rosemary strolled by, leading her horse and not casting an eye their way. There was just something about her that drew Phoenix’s attention. A sadness that he could feel, which was crazy. He must have hit his head in the arena.

“One of these days, I’m going to ride as good as her,” Eden said.

Before anyone could respond, Phoenix’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and froze as he saw the name. Ms. Henshaw. “Excuse me. I have to take this.” He walked to the fence and leaned against the pipe railing.

“Ms. Henshaw?”

“Mr. Rebel, I have news for you.”

“You have the results from the DNA test?”

“Yes.”

He sucked in a deep breath as if he was going to ride the meanest bull in the world. “What are they?”

“You’re the father. Ninety-nine point nine, and that’s as close as you can get. There’s no doubt.”

He slid down the fence like a drunk who’d had one too many. Sitting there on the ground, with the smell of the manure and the animals of the rodeo around him, he suddenly knew his life had just changed. Fun-loving Phoenix would be no more. He had to be a responsible, mature adult now. He had to be a father.

“Mr. Rebel, are you there?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Off in the distance, he could see the moon casting a beam that seemed to guide him toward the future, whatever that might be. But it would include a little boy named Jake.

“Did you mean what you said that day I met with you at your home?”

“What was that?”

“That you would take responsibility.”

Phoenix closed his eyes, and in his mind he could hear his father’s voice. Always take responsibility. Like Jude and Falcon, who had also become fathers unexpectedly, he would never do anything to dishonor his father. “Yes, ma’am. I will take responsibility for my son. What do I do now?”

“Are you sure about this? The CPS worker in Denver told me she has two couples who want the little boy.”

All the doubts in his mind vanished. “No. Jake belongs to me, and I will take full responsibility for him. What do I have to do?”

“Tomorrow is Sunday, but I’ll meet you in my office in Austin in the morning. Jake needs to be with his family as soon as possible. I will give you the papers you’ll need and you will fly to Denver. Make plane reservations as soon as you can. There will be a hearing before a judge on Monday morning. Valerie Green’s maternal rights will be terminated and you will be granted full custody. The CPS worker there will meet you and you can visit with Jake. After the hearing, you can bring him home and he will be legally yours.”

“I can do that. Give me the address of your office. Oh, wait. I don’t have a pen. Just text it to me.”

“Okay. I will also text a list of things you will need for the little boy, like a bed, diapers, milk and such. Have you ever been around children?”

“Yes, some of my brothers have children. So I do have some experience.”

“Very good. I will send you a text in case you want to pick up some things tonight, and I will see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Ms. Henshaw.”

He sat there in the warmth of the night, staring at his phone. He didn’t have to wait any longer. He was Jake’s father. How could that be? How could he also not know about it? How could he be so irresponsible? A lot of his family members could answer that before he could snap his fingers. Yep, he was about to pay for his upbringing.

Paxton and Eden came over. “What are you doing sitting there on the ground?” Paxton asked. “Let’s go.”

“I have to go home.”

Paxton and Eden stared at each other, and then they sank down beside him. “Should I say congratulations or I’m sorry?” Paxton grimaced.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But I’m that little boy’s father, and now I have to live up to the title.”

Eden put her arm around his shoulders. “You’re going to make a great father. You’re a big kid yourself.”

“I feel as if I’ve aged ten years in five minutes.” He tried to get to his feet and realized his legs were shaky. This was harder than any fall he’d ever taken. He felt bruised, weak and disoriented.

Once on his feet, he said, “I’m going home tonight. I have to make arrangements for tomorrow. But you guys stay and party.”

“No way.” Eden hugged him. “We’re all going home. We’re family.”

Phoenix didn’t have any strength to argue. His mind was solely on his son and the days ahead. How would he handle this new development in his life? He wasn’t known for maturity.

They loaded up and headed out, Eden leading with her truck and trailer. Paxton drove and Phoenix made plane reservations on his phone. He got a flight to Denver at eleven in the morning. That didn’t give him much time to meet with Ms. Henshaw, but he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight anyway, so he would be there early.

Ms. Henshaw’s text came through and he just stared at all the things that he needed to buy. Diapers. He had a weak stomach. How was he going to change diapers? This was a situation where he really had to cowboy up.

They didn’t talk much on the drive home. Phoenix’s thoughts were all turned inward. He wasn’t a worrier by nature, but worries jabbed at him like the fists of a prizefighter. Would he make a good father? He had to. It wasn’t a question. It was fact now.

He leaned back his head and tried to sleep. But all he could think about was that little boy who was crying for his great-grandma. A little boy who had been let down by a reckless, immature father. And an equally reckless, immature mother. Phoenix had to make up for all of that.

It was a three-hour drive, and Phoenix had never been so glad to see the ranch. In the wee hours of the morning, they drove up to the barn. After unloading her horse, Eden went toward her parents’ house, and Paxton and Phoenix walked toward the bunkhouse.

On the way, Phoenix kept thinking about the list on his phone. He needed to have those things here when he brought Jake home.

“I’m going into Temple to buy a baby bed.”

Paxton stopped on the porch of the bunkhouse, his eyebrows knotted together in confusion. “What? Where can you buy a bed at this time of the morning?”

“Walmart Supercenter. They’re open twenty-four hours.”

“Don’t you think you need to rest?”

“I won’t be able to sleep until I can bring Jake home where he belongs.”

Paxton sighed. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

Phoenix shook his head. “I don’t need you to go with me. I can buy a bed all by myself. Just go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Phoenix...”

He looked at the brother he’d spent most of his life with and saw the concern and worry in his eyes. “I’m struggling. Okay.” He was as honest as he could be because he couldn’t be anything else at this point. “I have to be there for that little boy. Do you understand?”

Paxton nodded, and Phoenix headed for his truck. Shopping early in the morning meant there was hardly anyone in the store. Clerks were stocking shelves and a few people were strolling around. He found the baby section and stared at all the clothes and paraphernalia. Where were the baby beds? He found them on another aisle. Again he just stared. What kind did he need? Maybe he should’ve brought Paxton. At least the two of them could have figured out something. But this shouldn’t be difficult. A bed was a bed.

Or so he’d thought. They came with or without a mattress and in numerous colors from white to espresso to black. In different styles. His head began to spin. Clearly he needed help.

He turned to search for a clerk and ran into someone. “Oh, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He caught the woman’s arm and just stared, unable to believe his eyes.

Rosemary McCray Wilcott stared right back at him with a look of shock that was echoed in his eyes.

What was she doing in Walmart at this time of the morning?

Chapter Three

“Uh...”

Rosie was stunned, and she could neither speak a coherent word nor move. The last person she’d expected to run into in Walmart was Phoenix Rebel. It took a full thirty seconds for her to regain her cool. In that time she was very aware of the hand holding her elbow. The firm, callused fingers were gentle and comforting, and that threw her more than seeing him. She didn’t want to feel anything for this man. Very slowly she removed her elbow and licked her suddenly dry lips.

She’d come in the store only for a few minutes because she was out of Dixie’s treats. The dog would whine and whine until she got them. Also, Rosie had received some unsettling news and couldn’t sleep anyway. She rented ten acres with a barn and corral, where she parked her trailer. Mrs. Boyd, the owner, had called and said her daughter was moving back home and was thinking of building a house on the property. That meant Rosie would have to find another place to park her trailer and another home for Lady. Her lease was up at the first of the year so that gave her a few months, but she’d been hoping to buy the place herself one day. Now she had to change her plans.

Whenever she was in Walmart, she couldn’t resist strolling to the baby section. It was gut-wrenching, but cathartic in a way for her loss of her little girl. One day, maybe, she could stop reliving the painful memories.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” Phoenix asked.

His strong tones brought her back to the present and the embarrassing situation. “No.” She made to walk off because she had nothing else to say to him.

“Hey.”

Against her better judgment, she looked back. “Am I taking up too much space?”

“I deserve that.” The corners of his mouth lifted in a cockamamy grin, which she was sure worked wonders on the opposite sex. To her dismay it was working on her, too.

She’d never seen a more handsome cowboy than Phoenix, and she hated that she noticed. In tight Wranglers, boots and a plaid shirt, he was every girl’s dream. The strong, carved facial bones that showcased a perpetual smile only added to the masculine mix. As did the Stetson and the riot of dark hair that always peeped out from under it.

“I’m really sorry for being rude in Oklahoma. I was having a very bad day.”

The apology put a dent in her already shaky composure. Walk away. Walk away. The words kept running through her mind, but her feet wouldn’t move as she stared into his dark eyes. Dark, warm, smiling eyes.

“I’m looking for a baby bed, and I could really use some help. Are you up for the job?” He tilted his head slightly, and the teasing light in his eyes did a number on her control.

Again, against her better judgment, she asked, “Why would you need a baby bed?”

“Well, you see, I just found out I’m a father.”

“Oh.” His honesty threw her, and her curiosity spiked. “And you get to be a weekend father?”

“No. Full-time.”

“You’re getting custody of a baby?”

The light in his eyes turned up a notch. “Yeah. Go figure.”

She gave up trying to make herself leave. He needed help with baby stuff, and there was nothing she would love more. It would hurt. But she just loved the punishment, she supposed.

“Girl or boy?”

“Boy.” He gave a thumbs-up sign.

“You must be excited.” At that, her guard went down so far she could no longer see it.

Suddenly a look of resignation crossed his face. “I would be lying if I said I was excited out of my mind. It’s been a shock and I’m trying to adjust. He’s twenty-five months old.”

She could have said a lot of petty things about the cowboys and the buckle bunnies around the rodeo, but she saw the hurt in his eyes. “Is the mother out of the picture?”

“Yeah. She left the boy with her grandmother and the grandmother has passed away. CPS tracked down the father, which happens to be me.”

Rosie didn’t know what else to say. It had to have been a big shock, and he seemed to be taking it well. She glanced at the row of baby beds. “If he’s twenty-five months old, you probably need something you can convert into a toddler bed.” She pointed to a box that had a picture on it. “See, there’s one. It goes from baby to toddler.”

“That looks perfect.”

She walked over to several boxes. “There are different colors. Maybe dark chocolate or warm honey. Which do you prefer?”

“Warm honey. Every time.”

She ignored the hidden reference to her in his voice. But it made her very aware of her attire: sweatpants, flip-flops and an old T-shirt. Her long hair was loose, and she brushed it away from her face in a nervous gesture. “They...they’ll probably have to load this into your truck, so it probably would be best to just take a picture with your phone and show them at checkout.”

“Now, see, that’s why women are best at this. They cover all the angles.” He took a quick photo and then looked at something on the phone. “I have to get a car seat, and she gave me the brand name.”

“She?”

“The CPS worker.”

“Oh. And you’ll need sheets, too.”

He looked at his phone again. “She didn’t say anything about sheets.”

Men! “Are you going to let him sleep on the bare mattress?”

That smile was back in place and it was lethal. “Okay, sheets it is.”