A Son for the Texas Cowboy

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A Son for the Texas Cowboy Page 8

by Sinclair Jayne


  “Cruz,” he whispered.

  “Look at me! Look how high I am! I can see a barn! Are there horses there?”

  The rapid-fire questions were like a bucket of ice water thrown over them. For a moment Axel had forgotten about the boy. Cruz had always had that power—to yank him out of any moment and drag him deep into her reality.

  Her laugh was low and sexy.

  “Saved by the monkey.” She waved up at Diego, who had shimmied up one of the larger oak trees that shaded and cooled the bunkhouses from the worst of the mid-spring sun all the way to early fall.

  “Maybe I don’t want to be saved.” He stepped in front of her as she headed closer to the tree and escape.

  “I do,” Cruz said, keeping her eyes on her son.

  Chapter Six

  Cruz finished blow-drying her hair, and quickly braided it, starting high on her scalp and fixing it in a side French braid. She’d often used this style in competition because the braid made it easier for her hat to stay snug while she competed, and afterward, at the ceremony or dance or meet and greet, she’d been able to take her braid out and have waves.

  It was late. The house was so quiet. It was a weird feeling to know that she and Diego were the only ones in such a large house. It must have been so different when Axel and his brothers had run up and down the wide halls. Now there was only silence.

  Cruz didn’t think she’d ever been in such a sprawling house. Axel, too, had seemed stunned by the changes. He said he hadn’t lived here since his youngest brother, Anders, had moved out to ride in the rodeo and now the AEBR. Axel had closed up the house, only having someone in to clean it and check on it once a month for the past few years. But last year, Axel had told her looking around in bemusement, his brother August had contracted some work to be done.

  Some work was an understatement. The house looked like it could be in some fancy Texas country living magazine, with its limestone siding and pillars, deeply distressed worn, wide plank oak floors and quartz countertops in the kitchen, and a backsplash of white glass as well as an island made out of white terrazzo. The chandelier was a wagon wheel with wine bottles that had lights inside.

  Axel had hated it, but it had a sort of homey charm, especially with the ranch branching out into the wine industry—a fact Axel had shared rather darkly.

  Cruz had loved making the salad and baking potatoes in the kitchen while on the large, covered patio, Axel had grilled steaks, zucchini and pineapple, which had delighted Diego.

  Diego had wanted a swim, but Axel had promised he could do it tomorrow. She thought Diego would object. He probably would have if she’d said no. But instead, he’d started asking about the steaks and what had been their names.

  Cruz smiled remembering how Axel had looked a little lost at Diego’s question, but then he’d explained why they didn’t name the cows, but did name the horses. It had been quite a conversation, one she’d bet Axel had never had before.

  She sat down on the king-size bed and looked at the weekender bag she had packed for the drive. She’d wanted enough clothes to make the trip and have a few days to settle in. Instead, most of her clothes, as well as Diego’s, were potentially ruined. She’d been doing load after load of laundry since they’d arrived.

  She didn’t have the budget to replace everything. She could hear the wind kick up outside, racing around the house. She’d always enjoyed the wind. It made her feel energized, as if nature were challenging her. She heard a deep moaning accompanied by a higher-pitched howl. She cocked her head. That was weird. Spooky. But the house had stood for more than a century, so she didn’t think an aggressive wind would have much to say tonight.

  She climbed into the bed. The room was spacious, and the bed, massive. It was mission-style with expensive white sheets, and a soft navy comforter. She’d never slept in such a sumptuous bed and felt like an intruder, although Axel said he’d never slept in this room or this bed.

  “It was my parents’ room.” He’d shrugged off her awe. “But everything in it is different. August has redecorated the entire house. Everything is new except the farmhouse table in the kitchen. Personally, I’m not sure why he bothered.”

  “Maybe he was creating a bachelor pad,” she’d teased. “For the three big bad wolves.”

  Axel’s smile had been small and quick, but she’d felt like she scored a victory.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she’d said as she and Axel had faced each other a little awkwardly in the kitchen. “And for a place to stay tonight.” She’d stressed that last word, not wanting him to think that she’d take advantage.

  “You can stay as long as you wish,” he’d said, and the way his eyes had darkened, and his expression she could no longer read had unnerved her and reminded her of things she could no longer have with him or do with him.

  “I’d better clean up.” She’d whirled away from him so quickly, her braid had slapped his chest.

  He’d caught it, momentarily halting her escape.

  She hadn’t even tried to turn around, but she’d closed her eyes, not wanting to see him reflected in the glass-paneled sliding door, or remember how he’d looked so many nights when he’d play with her hair.

  She’d held her breath and then finally—finally, he’d sighed and released her.

  “I’ll help.”

  “No need.”

  “Yes.”

  Implacable. So Axel.

  So, she’d cleaned the gleaming gourmet kitchen with him and Diego. And then she’d asked about the cube-style modular furniture still in plastic stacked against one wall in the great room.

  “Leave it,” he’d said. “Unless you want to use it. I have no idea what August has planned, but he should be home tomorrow.”

  Axel had checked that the pool cover was on and set the alarm, and then he’d looked back at her, standing in the patio doorway. He’d hesitated, and she’d held her breath, wondering if he’d come back and kiss her, and if she wanted him to.

  “Good night, Cruz,” was all he’d said. Then, “You too, Cowboy,” to Diego, who’d jumped up and down in excitement.

  Somebody had a bad case of hero worship. And unfortunately, Diego was not the only one falling under the potent spell.

  The wind seemed alive as Cruz slipped into the giant bed and drew the comforter up to her chin. She tried to settle her mind. She should be asleep. She was exhausted—all the packing during the past few weeks, finishing up her program, organizing the complete upheaval of her life. The crazy day. It was amazing she was still conscious.

  She closed her eyes determined to get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow she needed to figure out a place to move into and how many of her things, if any, would be salvageable. The table Axel had made for her could be dried out. She’d buy a dehumidifier. And then she’d sand it and refinish it. It hurt that he’d been so caustic about the damage, as if the table had been nothing. He’d made it for her—a table for two. It had seemed so sophisticated, and she’d read all sorts of things into the Valentine’s present, especially the message at the bottom.

  When he’d gifted her the table, it had seemed a most intimate gift—a declaration of a future together. She’d pictured them drinking coffee together in the morning before they’d both head off to work—him to the ranch, her to the hospital. She’d pictured them sharing a glass of wine or a beer at night, holding hands and talking about their day.

  God, she’d been unbearably young. And emotionally vulnerable. So in love with a man who’d seemed to embody everything she’d ever dreamed about.

  Cruz flopped over and punched the pillow. She needed to stop thinking about Axel.

  *

  Axel paced along the small porch of the double bunkhouse. Normally, he had the two bedrooms to himself—he saved a place for Anders when he stopped off at the ranch. He could have put Cruz down here so she and Diego wouldn’t have been alone in the empty house on the hill.

  But he didn’t want her to feel he was trying to manipulate her.

&nb
sp; Which you are.

  He shouldn’t have interfered in her search to find a short-term rental. It had been a crazy impulse—completely unlike him. He should help her find a small house or an apartment. Instead, he’d installed Cruz and Diego in the main house as if she was his mistress.

  Tomorrow, he’d come clean and help her find another place to stay.

  Short-term. His heart stuttered at that. She planned to leave again.

  Unless she had a full-time job.

  Unless he could convince her to stay.

  What was he thinking?

  He saw one of the lights in the house go out. It warmed him unexpectedly to think of Cruz and her son in the house. Together. And the house no longer empty, hungry.

  She could stay in the house with Diego. That made sense.

  His mind jumped back and forth with ideas, rationales.

  As long as he kept his distance.

  That should be easy. She’d be working. The kid would be in school. His duties kept him busy from dawn until evening. And he wouldn’t go up to the house again. There were just too many memories. Even with all the changes that August had made, the house still seemed full of ghosts—just more sophisticated ones.

  The wind that had been kicking up from the east now barreled through the ranch with a vengeance. The sounds it made when it tore through the sprawling oak stand between the house and Ghost Hill, where August’s vineyard started, could wake the dead. As a kid he’d always imagined the groans were a mass exodus of fidgety souls, or God was making music. But after Aurik died and then with his mom following so quickly after, the wind had sounded like angry accusations.

  What would Cruz make of the racket? She’d never seemed the type to be easily spooked. But now that she had a child? He should have warned her and Diego. He cleared out after the late dinner, needing time to settle, think, get a handle on the reality that Cruz was here. But her job was temporary.

  That could be good or bad.

  He wasn’t usually this indecisive.

  Obviously, if Diego was his, he would just pull the ring he’d bought her so long ago out of the fireproof safe where he kept all his important papers for the ranch along with flash drives of electronic records. He could push it on her finger and drag her to the courthouse.

  For a moment, the vision rose before him—Cruz standing by his side, vowing to love him forever. It was nearly tangible and scared the hell out of him. He was being ridiculous. His ancestors had managed to get away with stunts like that, but he’d never tried it. Even his father had done what had seemed to be impossible. The elder Wolf had seen Axel’s mother at a cowboy bar “slumming” during her bachelorette party and had, during the course of an evening of dancing, persuaded her she had promised herself to the wrong man.

  “When you see the right girl, you just know,” his father had said once, when that story had been retold. “I walked in and saw her with that silly bride tiara on and knew she was making a bad decision and needed to cut bait. It just took a few dances to make my feelings on the situation clear.”

  His mother had laughed and thrown a dish towel at him, and Axel could still remember the way his dad had caught it in midair, and the way he’d smiled at her had been so full of promise. Axel missed his family—the way they’d been. Not what they’d become.

  He looked up at the house, then glanced at the sky, gauging the weather. Since he couldn’t get settled, he decided to go up to the house and make sure Cruz and Diego were okay.

  *

  Cruz woke up. She hadn’t even been asleep for an hour, she realized as she stared at her cell in dismay. The wind was making an awful racket. She’d left her bedroom window open as well as the door to the small patio off the master bedroom cracked because she liked fresh air when she slept. She’d figured it would be quiet, so far out in the country.

  Definite miscalculation.

  Had she closed Diego’s bedroom window? If he woke up, he might be frightened by all the noise.

  She didn’t have a robe with her, and even though they were alone in the house, she didn’t feel comfortable padding around in just her racer-back tank and panties. For all she knew, August could come home from the hospital or Axel might take in other strays. She dug through her floral bag and found her velour drawstring sweats. They were comfy but too warm to sleep in this time of year.

  She tiptoed out and poked her head in Diego’s room, which was down the hall from hers. Empty. For a moment, she just stared at the rumpled bed as if he would magically appear.

  Where…? The pool. He wouldn’t, she told herself. He’d promised and Axel had locked the cover and set the alarm. Even though Diego swam like a fish, he’d know better. But still… Panic was starting to set in as she hurried down the wide hallway to the center of the house and the kitchen and great room. The back patio door was open, and she could hear Axel’s deep voice answering a question while Diego sat on his lap, his arm pointed skyward.

  “That’s Leo,” Axel said. “You can only see it here in the spring. In autumn, you can see Scorpio.”

  “Does it really look like a scorpion that could sting you?” Diego had his head tilted back, parallel to the sky as did Axel, but they were in the partial shelter of the covered part of the patio, looking up through skylights.

  “You have to use your imagination to fill in some parts, but yes. Plenty of folks think so.”

  “What else?”

  “That’s Big Bear, also called Ursa Major. You can always see that in Texas but it looks like it’s in different places, depending on the season because of the earth’s tilt. But Texas skies don’t change as much as the ones in the northern states because we’re closer to the equator.”

  Cruz took a step to join them on the patio. Axel had always loved stargazing. He’d taught her so much. She’d loved to lie in his arms, her head against his chest so she could hear his sexy and masculine rumble. She’d felt content and safe.

  Why hadn’t he wanted kids, when he was such a natural?

  She gnawed on her lower lip wondering if she should go or stay. It was sweet for Diego to have this moment with Axel. He didn’t have many men in his life, and he wouldn’t, if she didn’t start dating. She’d been busy being a mom and working and going to school, but Shell had managed to find a man. Cruz hadn’t really been interested.

  And the reason why she hadn’t bothered to look was sitting out on the patio, stargazing with her son.

  You can’t have that one, she told herself. Too much history. Too many differences. Besides, she couldn’t go through another breakup with Axel, couldn’t put her heart out there only to have him reject her again. Only this time, he’d be breaking her son’s little boy heart along with hers. She was resilient, but Diego shouldn’t have to go through losing a parent again, just because she was assailed by a serious case of memory whiplash.

  More like lust whiplash.

  History and hormones were tricky bitches.

  The wind howled again, a whistling noise above the deep groans that almost sounded like a conversation. Yeah, she could see why people got a little spooked up here.

  “Maybe my mom is scared,” Diego said.

  “Nah. She’s tough. Bravest woman I ever met.”

  “Really? Like superhero brave?”

  “Little bit like that. She was fearless on the back of Misty River.”

  Cruz caught her breath and dread filled her like ice water.

  “She’d charge out of the gate, all of her focus on the layout of the barrels. She and that horse were a team. They’d race the clock to run the course without tripping or touching anything. Your mom and Misty River were one. Beautiful form and communication. Never saw a woman who had a better seat on a horse, but you know all about that.”

  “My mom rode a horse? For real? Maybe if you take me riding tomorrow she can come.”

  Axel grew still, probably shocked. Cruz felt exposed, guilty in some way that didn’t make sense. And wounds that she’d hoped would heal had been ripped open all o
ver again.

  “Hey, you two,” she said strolling out on the patio. She immediately regretted it because her greeting made it sound like Diego and Axel had a connection they didn’t and shouldn’t have.

  “Mom, the stars make animals in the sky. And the wind sounds like people singing. Axel said a lot of people think there are ghosts in the grove, but there aren’t, and if there are, they’re friendly and part of a choir. Axel thinks they are singing to the longhorns so they get big and strong. Axel’s going to let me ride with him to see some of the longhorns tomorrow.”

  “Axel’s told you quite a lot tonight.” Cruz couldn’t help the bite in her voice.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you used to ride a horse?” Diego sounded accusing.

  “It was a long time ago,” she dismissed, even as her heart felt like it dropped to her feet. She could feel Axel’s attention home in on her like a heat-seeking missile. It was definitely time for bed. And she needed to stay there until Axel was on the other side of the ranch.

  “And now that you’ve had your astronomy lesson, it’s time to head back to bed,” she said. “Axel has chores in the morning, and we have a lot to do.”

  Like put in another load of laundry.

  “Let’s go,” she urged.

  “But we’re still going to meet the horses tomorrow?”

  Axel stood up slowly, urging Diego onto the patio near Cruz.

  “Right, Axel?” Diego looked at her and then back at Axel for confirmation.

  “It’s up to your mother,” Axel said. “If she’s willing, and you have time, then yes.”

  Even when he was agreeing with her, Axel sounded in control. And he was putting her in the position of woman wearing the witchy hat saying no to seeing horses just because she wanted to avoid the man. And horses.

  Don’t be a coward.

  She narrowed her eyes, letting Axel know she was not clueless here. He was up to something, but what it was, she had no idea.

  “We’ll see.” The words felt dragged from her soul. “And now time for bed. See you in the morning,” she stupidly added, mentally kicking herself.

 

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