Kayla's Cowboy

Part of her wanted to strangle her ex-husband, but it was also her fault. She’d known they should tell Alex the truth about the adoption from the beginning, but she’d been in love and it was what Curtis had wanted as his wedding gift. And yet when she’d called him the night before to explain why Alex had run away, Curtis had said, “Oh, well, I guess it’s best he knows.”

Forcing herself into the present, Kayla watched the clock on the dashboard tick off the minutes. At ten the black pickup truck she’d seen next to Jackson’s house pulled up and she got out of the Volvo.

“I only came because I don’t want my daughter overhearing any nonsense,” Jackson growled as he marched around the hood of his Chevy. He was the classic image of a rancher—lean, skin tanned, wearing jeans, a worn shirt, boots and a cowboy hat pushed back on his head.

“It isn’t nonsense,” Kayla said evenly. “And remember I’m the one who tried to be considerate by suggesting we meet elsewhere.”

“Considerate would be leaving me alone.”

“No, considerate would have been listening sixteen years ago instead of dismissing me and saying I slept around.”

Jackson made a visible effort to calm down. “Kayla, I realize things must have been difficult for you and I’m sorry about that, but you can’t expect me to take responsibility for someone else’s child.”

She gave him a narrow look. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that I might have been telling the truth?”

He sighed. “I’ve thought about it, but I was very careful about birth control and half the guys in school were boasting about being with you. I didn’t believe them until you claimed I’d gotten you pregnant.”

“Condoms can fail.”

“I always checked after we were done and they were intact.”

Kayla remembered him checking and how she’d interpreted it as thoughtfulness. “There must have been something you missed.”

“A million-to-one chance against a girl that every guy in the school knew had a birthmark on her hip.”

“It would have been easy for someone to find out about a birthmark without having had sex with me,” Kayla retorted. She’d always figured it was Marcy who’d shared that information after Jackson had stopped dating her and asked Kayla out. Marcy’s locker had been close to hers in gym class, so it would have been easy to spot something normally covered by clothes.

“Regardless, you’re going to drop this, now and forever,” Jackson ordered.

Kayla raised her eyebrows. Would he have been so peremptory toward another man?

“Perhaps I could have been more tactful when you announced you were pregnant,” he continued, “but that was a long time ago. I have my daughter to consider, and girls are very sensitive to this sort of thing.”

“Girls are sensitive to...?” Kayla repeated in disbelief. “That’s pretty damn patronizing. Teenagers are sensitive to everything and gender doesn’t make much difference. You’re obviously even more chauvinistic than you used to be.”

Jackson made a dismissive gesture. “I don’t care what you call it. I didn’t sleep all night, trying to think of ways to protect Morgan from any wild rumors you might start.”

There were lines of exhaustion under his eyes and dark beard stubble on his jaw, so he might have stayed up all night. Jackson was more gorgeous and sexy than ever, but otherwise, she wasn’t impressed with what she’d seen of him as an adult.

“I’m going to try this again,” Kayla said carefully. “No one is asking you take responsibility for Alex. I’m well able to take care of him myself. I wouldn’t have called you in the first place, except my son is here in Schuyler. We can get genetic tests and I could go through the court to force it, but I doubt a judge will consider it necessary. The resemblance between the two of you is unmistakable. Because of it, people are already talking, and I don’t think it’s fair for your daughter to learn about it on Facebook or get a tweet that she has a brother.”

Her words seemed to pull Jackson up short. In the silence Kayla took out her smartphone and brought up Alex’s latest school photo.

She held it out. “Let me introduce you to your son.”

As he stared at the screen, the stunned expression on Jackson’s face spoke volumes.

* * *

JACKSON FELT THE way he had when a bronco had tossed him at the Schuyler Rodeo Days and he’d landed on a fence railing. By comparison, having two broken ribs and twenty-three stitches was a picnic. Deep down he wanted to believe the picture was a fake and didn’t prove a thing. But the kid looked like him. No question about it.

Pain went through Jackson’s gut. He might have been a rebellious teen, but the McGregors took care of family, no matter what. It was part of their code. The idea that he had a son he hadn’t known or supported was a hard pill to swallow.

“Well?” Kayla prompted.

“I suppose he’s overdue for a father,” Jackson choked out.

She crossed her arms over her stomach. “You’re assuming I stayed a single mom? Maybe on welfare or delivering pizzas?”

“Of course not. You have a different last name, so I figured you’d got married.”

“Divorced now, but I got married when Alex was three. Curtis is an accountant in Seattle. He legally adopted Alex the year we were married.”

Adopted? Jackson was floored. “How could the court allow it without my permission?”

“They didn’t need permission—you weren’t on the birth certificate,” Kayla retorted.

“Didn’t you think Alex had the right to have his father listed?”

“Oh, gee, let me think. I was barely seventeen and the father of my baby had denied any possible responsibility, calling me a slut and—”

“I never called you a slut,” Jackson said hastily.

“It boils down to the same thing. I didn’t want your name anywhere near my son. Frankly, I’m not crazy about having you near him now. I was hoping you’d changed, but the only change I’ve seen has been negative.”

Jackson pulled a slow breath into his chest, reminding himself that Kayla was the injured party and he had only himself to blame for missing so much of his son’s life.

“Look, I’m sorry for not believing you, but you did have a reputation,” he reminded her, still wanting to believe he hadn’t screwed up that badly.

Too late, his conscience mocked him.

“My so-called reputation was almost certainly invented by your on-again, off-again girlfriend,” Kayla informed him crisply. “If any boys claimed something else, it was bravado talking. Marcy was spiteful and wanted you back. And she got what she wanted—you dumped me without a word and got engaged to her. I understand you married her right after graduation.”

Kayla’s expression reminded Jackson of the chin-up, ready-to-take-a-hit attitude she had exuded as a belligerent kid. Back then she’d fascinated him, the street-savvy newcomer, so different from the girls who’d grown up around Schuyler. She’d also been one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. And Josh was right—Kayla was still hot. Her long legs were topped by a tight rear end covered in formfitting jeans, while her snug T-shirt revealed the kind of curves that made a man’s blood simmer. The mother of a teenager shouldn’t look so provocative.

As for Marcy being spiteful enough to spread malicious lies? It was possible. Hell, it was more than possible. She’d turned out to be less than admirable, more interested in his generous trust fund than in him. In fact, he suspected Marcy had gotten pregnant deliberately, hoping he would marry her. Maybe if she’d realized her mother had inherited a fortune that would come to her one day, she wouldn’t have been so eager to get married.

“We can discuss what happened later, but right now I want to see my son,” Jackson said.

“That’s up to Alex.”

“Kids don’t always know what’s best.”

“I agree,” Kayla told him, “only it isn’t that easy. He...uh, ran away to Schuyler. That’s the only reason I’m here. I never planned to return.”

“Is he okay?” Jackson demanded. “How far did he get on his own?”

“We live in Seattle. He showed up at my grandparents’ house rather quickly and says nothing bad happened on the road, but it scared the hell out of me.”

“It scares me, and I didn’t even know about it beforehand. But don’t you think Alex running away to Schuyler had something to do with wanting to see his birth dad?”

An odd mix of emotions crossed Kayla’s face. “No. Alex had no idea where his biological father lived before last night. Actually, the whole thing started a few days ago when he found out that Curtis had adopted him. We were waiting to tell him about it.”

Jackson opened his mouth to make a snide remark about Kayla’s parenting decisions, then stopped. He wasn’t in a position to pass judgment. “Well, now that Alex knows, doesn’t he want to meet me?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You didn’t ask?”

Kayla gave him a hostile look. “Of course I asked, but in case you don’t know it already, teenagers don’t always give direct answers.”

Yeah, Jackson knew it. If Morgan responded to a question at all, it was usually a yell or a sarcastic comment. It was disturbing to hear that his “new” son might be acting the same way.

He glanced around the park. It was a popular make-out spot for kids and he’d seen his share of action under the trees at the far end. As a matter of fact, he and Kayla had spent a couple of evenings there, enjoying each other in the front seat of his old truck. But he didn’t fool himself that nostalgia had made her pick the place for their talk; she’d simply hoped that no one would be around to overhear them.

“What do you think Alex will decide about seeing me?” Jackson asked finally.

“I’m not sure. I brought it up with him last night, but this morning all he would talk about is getting back to Seattle for a sci-fi convention, an upcoming Mariners game with the Yankees and whether we could go camping at Yellowstone this year.”

Jackson tiredly rubbed the back of his neck. Science fiction conventions and Mariners baseball games? It was a reminder that his son had grown up in a different world than a Montana ranch. Alex was a city kid, and the enormity of what Jackson had missed struck him again. What would they have in common?

“Safeco Field? So Alex plays baseball,” he murmured.

“Because he goes to major league games?” Kayla shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint the tough rancher, but he’s never played sports that much. Both Alex and DeeDee are Mariners fans.”

“DeeDee?” Jackson asked, alarmed that Alex might have a twin sister. He loved Morgan more than anything, but dealing with her was going to shorten his life by twenty years.

“DeeDee is my daughter with Curtis. She’s nearly ten and does play sports.”

“I see.” He stopped and tried to clear his brain. “There’s something I don’t understand—why didn’t your family insist on a paternity test when Alex was born and ask for a financial settlement?”

“Because my mother didn’t know you were the father, and my grandparents only learned about it yesterday. I didn’t even tell Mom that I was pregnant until we were a long way from Schuyler—I was afraid she’d remember we had dated and empty a shotgun into your crotch. She can be hotheaded after a few drinks.”

The imagery was painfully vivid.

“Uh, well, thanks. I think.”

Kayla smiled grimly. “It wasn’t to protect you—I just didn’t want Mom going to prison for castrating an underage cowboy.”

Jackson winced inwardly. “About Alex. I can’t believe he won’t want to meet his own father. I mean, don’t you think he wants a strong male role model?”

Kayla’s eyes opened wide. “A strong male role model? What, because Curtis is an accountant? I suppose you don’t think that’s manly enough.”

“I’m just trying to think what Alex wants.”

“What he wants is to process everything after his world getting upside down. As for myself, I’d prefer knowing more about you before allowing you any time with him.”

“What does that mean?”

Kayla made an impatient sound. “It means I want to protect my son. Good heavens, Jackson, I haven’t seen you in sixteen years. I barely knew you back then, and I definitely don’t know what kind of man you are now. From what I’ve seen so far, you’ve got a macho thing going that raises questions about whether you’d be a healthy influence on a sensitive kid.”

“I’m not macho, I’m his father.”

“Only through biology. It takes more than DNA to truly make you a parent.”

A headache began throbbing in Jackson’s temples. “I agree, but I want to rectify that as soon as possible. As for knowing more about me, surely your grandparents have told you the pertinent details.”

“Some of them, but I want to hear what you have to say.”

Jackson rolled his shoulders and a trickle of perspiration traveled down his back. In the past half hour his own world had been turned upside down, and a sane man... No, scratch that, he hadn’t felt completely sane since Morgan had started acting out. And with another teenager entering his life, he might be headed for a straitjacket.

“All right,” he said. “I don’t know what you think is important, but obviously I’m a rancher. We raise both cattle and horses and have a respected breeding program. My great-uncle Mitch deeded the Crazy Horse to me a while back, though I’ve been working there since I graduated high school. I’m well able to provide support payments.”

“I don’t want or need money from you.”

“Kayla—”

“Drop it,” Kayla interrupted sharply. “I remember you used to talk about ranching, though your folks wanted you to attend college first. What else?”

“Marcy and I got divorced eight years ago, which I’m sure you’ve also heard, and I doubt I’ll ever jump into marital waters again...too many sharks.”

“I understand.” Kayla’s voice was neutral, but since they were both divorced, he wondered if she felt the same way about marriage. “I know you have custody of your daughter and that her name is Morgan. How old is she?”

“Er...fifteen last November.”

Kayla’s eyes widened. “Good lord, Jackson, that means Marcy was already pregnant when we started dating, yet this morning you were still sure you couldn’t be Alex’s father?”

“That’s because I didn’t use protection with Marcy the last time we were together,” he replied stiffly. “She claimed it was safe since it was right after her period. I decided to be more careful when I starting dating other girls.”

“Peachy.”

A long time ago Jackson had made an uneasy peace with the fact that he had been a normal teenage boy with raging hormones. Well, perhaps more normal than some. But how many teenage boys got two girls pregnant in less than two months? While it probably wasn’t a record, it also wasn’t something to be proud about.

“I don’t know what else to say about myself,” he said. “I’m not a criminal. I work hard, pay my bills and respect my parents. What now?”

“For one, we both need to sit down with our kids.” Kayla’s right eyebrow lifted. “You were planning to tell Morgan about her brother, weren’t you?”

“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.”