The Cowboy's Sweet Elopement

by Jean Oram

  “A paternity test?” Heath yelled, waving papers. He was lit up under the porch light, his face red with anger. “Is that kid even mine?”

  “What are you talking about?” She hurried to the front steps, eager to hush Heath before he disturbed the neighbors or woke up Kurt. He stormed down the steps, meeting her on the walk. “Were you going through my stuff?”

  “These were in plain sight!” He waved the papers she’d printed out for Robyn and had left above the fridge, forgetting about them after Robyn said she no longer needed them. Heath was tall enough he would have easily seen them. And apparently jumped to the wrong conclusion about why she had them. “I’m clothing and feeding a boy who isn’t even mine?”

  “He’s yours.” April squeezed his arm, hoping to ground him so he could see rationally. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  “I’m not stupid, April!” Heath yelled, waving the papers again. “You’re keeping me on the hook until you know this guy’s in it for the long haul.” He jabbed a thumb in Brant’s direction.

  “Hey now,” Brant said, stepping in. “Let’s just all calm down and figure things out. We’re going to be doing this together for a lot of years.”

  Heath’s fist connected with Brant’s jaw. He went down hard, not having the time to brace himself.

  “Get out of here,” April screamed at Heath, rage pouring through her. “Just get out and never come back.”

  Brant was back on his feet, fury in his eyes, hands clenched. He looked ready to kill someone.

  “Kurt doesn’t need to see you two like this,” she snapped, physically shoving them apart as Brant closed in on Heath. They also didn’t need to give the town a good show, and due to their raised voices, she could already see porch lights coming on across the street.

  “What am I to you?” Heath asked her, his breath in her face. “A big sucker? Someone to cling to? Take a look at that boy. He’s a Wylder, and you’ve played me for too long.” He turned to Brant. “Run while you can. You’re just another sucker she doesn’t love.”

  Brant’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t defend her. He was watching her, his expression indecipherable.

  The Wylder resemblance in Kurt was not helping her right now. His bright blue eyes were like Heath’s brothers, but they were also like Cole’s. His dark brown hair was like the Wylders’, too, but also like hers had been as a kid.

  “The papers were for Robyn. Her parents wanted to get involved, but she shut them down. Kurt is yours, Heath, but if you want a paternity test, we can have one done. I have nothing to hide.”

  Across the street, a curtain dropped back into place, hiding whoever had been watching the fight. The men glared at each other, then her, their trust not quite strong enough to believe her.

  “I’m not paying you a red cent,” Heath said, aiming his finger at her before storming off. He got into his truck and slammed the door, then let down his window. “And that is the last free babysitting you’ll ever get from me.”

  Shaking, April turned to Brant while Heath peeled out. There was such disappointment and pain in his expression she almost cried. She wished he would pull her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay, that he’d fix this.

  “He knows Kurt’s his.” She took a step closer. “And I married you because I care about you, not because of anything else.”

  He was silent for too long.

  “Brant?”

  “Maybe we rushed things.”

  “I know we did, but it’s okay. Right?” She gave him a tentative smile, hoping to cajole him out of this dangerous mood.

  He rubbed his jaw where Heath had hit him, wincing. Something changed in Brant’s eyes.

  “I didn’t give you enough time to move on and cut ties,” he murmured.

  “There was nothing to move on from.”

  “April…” Brant paused, as though deciding what to say.

  “Is this about leaving the horse with him? Because Heath will always be in my life. He’s Kurt’s father and I will not cut those ties.”

  “Did you ever think that maybe I needed that horse moved?”

  “Cookies was fine. I was taking care of things.”

  “That maybe I don’t want him in my house?”

  “He was babysitting.”

  “It’s not called babysitting!” Brant snapped. “He can be a father on his own turf. This is mine, April. My turf.”

  His eyes were dark in the night, the glow of the porch light not reaching far enough to reveal what he was thinking. But she could feel it. Feel it growing and building like a tidal wave.

  “Brant, be reasonable. He’s just feeling like…” She waved a hand, trying to find a suitable word for how lost and vulnerable Heath must be.

  “Did you ever stop to think how I might feel about all of this? That maybe I needed to know your ties were severed?”

  “What?”

  “I bought you a house. I all but kicked Laura out of it so you could move in, because you wanted to leave Heath. Then you stayed with him. You stayed, April.”

  “Brant, I was giving him one last chance to try to make things right. He’s Kurt’s dad.”

  “No, because you loved him. You still love him. You had one foot stuck in that door, keeping it open. Waiting, hoping, wishing. And the worst part is that I get it. He’s Kurt’s dad and always will be. He’s the man you loved first.”

  “It wasn’t like that at all.”

  “You were always breaking up with Cole. Always coming to me for support, but you stayed with Cole. You always went back for more until you had to figure things out with Heath.” Brant was shaking his head, the story he was telling himself so strong she wasn’t sure how she could ever break through to him. “Now it’s the same, but it’s Heath instead of Cole.”

  “Brant. No. I married you.” She put her arms around him. His body stilled, and she felt a flicker of hope inside her.

  He ran a hand over her hair, the touch a balm to the pain and fear in her heart.

  “I just needed to know you were really and truly choosing me, April.” He pushed her away, letting her go once she was at arm’s length. “I’m sorry I made this complicated for you.”

  “Wait. No! I choose you. I do!” Her eyes filled with tears, making the yard and Brant’s face blurry. “It’s real.”

  He was silent for a long moment. “Maybe everyone’s right. Maybe I am rescuing you, and you just needed a fake husband.”

  No.

  She hiccupped, her breath hitching. “Don’t do this. Please. Please, Brant.”

  His eyes closed for a moment. “We need some time to think.”

  “There’s nothing to think about.”

  He was quiet.

  “Brant? Talk to me.” A sob caught in her chest.

  “You don’t need to be rescued, and that’s all I’ve been doing. You need some space to get back on your feet and be independent. I’ll get out of your way and stop trying to make this real for you, too.”

  The pain in her chest intensified as she pleaded with him. “You’re not in the way. Please. Please don’t pull away, because I’m trying to stand up and help you, too. I’m trying to be the right woman for you.” The tears caused her voice to wobble.

  “April,” he said, stepping toward the street, his tone wistful, “you never had to try at that.”

  Brant hated to do this. He hated doing it to Kurt, hated doing it to April and hated doing it to himself. But they all needed some time and space to sort out what was real in this marriage, and what was just himself and April clinging to the proverbial dream.

  He’d gone inside the house, packed a bag, held April for a long minute, then walked out the door and over to the clinic, where he’d left his truck.

  It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

  But he knew he couldn’t live with the doubts, with all those nagging thoughts that were telling him he’d been a fool once again.

  With a smarting jaw and an aching heart, he stretched out in the
clinic’s armchair with Tadpole on his chest. Tomorrow, once Robyn moved out of his upstairs apartment, he would move back in.

  He wouldn’t tell a soul, just let things fade away between himself and April in hopes that would hurt Kurt less. The honeymoon had been amazing, April an intuitive lover and wife. She’d always been a great friend and companion. Together they formed a good, solid partnership. When his work got crazy, she’d make supper, even if it was his night. He’d realize he was out of clean shirts for work and go to his closet to figure something out, only to find things had been washed, dried and folded, sitting there waiting for him.

  But he wanted more than that. He wanted true love. He wanted April to choose him with every inch of her heart. Not because he was the safe place to run to when yet another one of her relationships was sinking.

  There was a lot to think about. A lot to sort through.

  He needed space.

  He needed an out-of-town conference to take him away for a few days. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of a single excuse to leave town as he kicked back and closed his eyes, knowing sleep wouldn’t come.

  12

  The next morning April tried to breathe through the pain in her chest. She had messed up. Her quest for independence had led Brant to believe she was using him, and not truly in love with him. The fact that he knew her better than anyone else and still had doubts about how she felt really chewed at her heart.

  “Where’s Daddy Brant?” Kurt asked, pulling himself onto the chair across from her at the kitchen table.

  “He’s working with animals,” April said, figuring it was likely true. He often went and checked on herds at the ranch as an excuse to find some quiet time to think. Over the years, she’d stumbled upon him out in the pastures several times. Usually after he’d pulled his fake-boyfriend act for someone. He would definitely be out there today, seeing as he seemed to believe their marriage was a charade.

  “When will he come home?” Kurt asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “An hour?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Her heart constricted, whisking away what was left of the air in her lungs, at the thought of telling Kurt that Brant had left them.

  “Lunchtime?”

  “I don’t know.” She stood.

  “Suppertime?”

  “Kurt, I don’t know when he’ll be back.” There was an edge in her voice, and Kurt’s face crumpled. The tears started.

  “Daddy Brant left us like Daddy did?”

  April blinked back emotion and pulled Kurt into a hug. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “For a trip? Does he go to rodeos, too? Daddy said horses need to be fixed sometimes because they get hurt. Can Daddy Brant fix them?”

  April felt a rush of relief. Her son thought Brant was following the rodeo like Heath did with his stock business, and putting his vet skills to work.

  “He’s… You’ll still see Daddy Brant,” April hedged, hoping it was true. Hoping that even if her husband was done with her, he wasn’t done with the boy who loved him as family.

  She released Kurt, making a decision. “Come on, we’re going horseback riding. Cookies needs some exercise.” And they needed some fresh air, as well as a distraction.

  “I don’t have a horse.”

  “You can ride in front of me, or because it’s the weekend, maybe Betty has a horse that doesn’t have a rider. Maybe you can go around the ring on a horse of your own.”

  She winced as Kurt ran to grab his cowboy boots. Her plan made it likely she would run into Brant, as well as his questioning family. She was doing it again. Possibly ousting a Wylder from his home turf after she’d hurt him.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go horseback riding,” April said, checking the weather through the kitchen window. Perfectly sunny, of course. A beautiful day to face the music with the people she considered family.

  “I wanna go!” Kurt’s expression was so full of hope she couldn’t renege.

  “Fine. We’ll go. Eat your breakfast first.” She set cereal, a bowl and a spoon on the table, along with milk. Knowing it was likely he’d spill something, she also set out a cloth, giving Kurt his independence, wishing Brant had allowed her more of her own.

  When they walked out to her SUV half an hour later, boots and hats on, she spotted Jackie’s sports car still parked out front. Her heart dropped as she realized that, given all the fighting last night, she didn’t know if her friend had gotten home safely. Jackie lived just down the street from the saloon, in an apartment over one of the stores, but that was beside the point. Friends looked out for each other.

  April fired off a quick text, waiting to see if bubbles appeared to show Jackie was typing back. She exhaled when they did.

  Will get my car later.

  No word about her being aware of April’s fight with Brant. Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe word hadn’t traveled that far yet. Or maybe Jackie was still mad at her.

  Or perhaps it wasn’t all about her and her love problems.

  April typed out a new message. I’m sorry for what I said.

  She waited for bubbles to appear on her screen. Nothing.

  Then finally, after she’d buckled in Kurt, she saw a message.

  You were right. But so was I.

  April sighed. I know.

  And now she was into her fears so deeply she didn’t know how to ever climb back out again.

  As she drove to the ranch, she tried to avoid thinking about Brant. It proved to be as easy as trying not to breathe.

  When she pulled up behind the stables, studiously looking away from Brant’s truck parked outside the nearby equipment shed, so she wouldn’t cry, Betty came out to greet them.

  “Cookies is doing well. We eased him in with his first riders this week.”

  April busied herself releasing Kurt from his booster seat, even though he could do it himself.

  “I won’t be using him today, as we only have a couple kids coming in,” the program manager told her. “Are you going to take Kurt for a ride?”

  April nodded, adjusting her cowboy hat, as Kurt ran to climb up the fence surrounding the ring.

  “Are you riding together or do you need another horse?” Betty asked. “Clover’s free.” Her eyes narrowed when April finally faced her, and she let out a grunt. “Need to talk to Maria? She was in her garden a little while ago, talking with Carly.”

  “It’s fine,” April said smoothly.

  Betty grunted again, making it clear she knew April was lying. “Men need time,” she said, as though commenting on the weather. “They don’t always deal well with change.” She headed back into the stables.

  April followed and started saddling the horses, the smells of hay, leather and her old horse calming her.

  “Okay, little man,” she said, hoisting Kurt up into Clover’s saddle. “Hold on like I taught you to.”

  “With hands and legs,” he said dutifully.

  “And nothing too crazy.”

  She mounted her own horse, and led Clover with a short rope, ensuring the animal stayed in control and close to Cookies. The two horses seemed companionable, and she relaxed her worries about one of them nipping and causing problems due to their proximity. They were both well-trained, Clover used to small children and Cookies used to Kurt.

  “Remember, no loud noises or sudden moves,” April reminded him.

  A horse trotted up alongside them as they took an easy trail that ran under some towering oaks. April turned in her saddle, her heart lifting with hope, then falling.

  It was Cole, not Brant.

  He took one peek at her and said, “Oh, I know that look.” He gave her a sympathetic frown from under the brim of his hat.

  She felt her spine slump.

  “I thought the two of you would take,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. He was obviously referring to her and Brant.

  She darted a furious glance at him, tipping her head in Kurt’s direction.

  “Thought you woul
d take the route through the pastures, that is,” Cole amended quickly.

  “It’s the first time out with Clover and Cookies together,” April explained.

  Cole nodded, understanding it was an inaugural run and she was minimizing risk. Riding through the pastures meant she’d have to dismount frequently to deal with gates, as well as herds of cattle. Too many unpredictables.

  “They seem to be doing fine together,” Cole said. “You’re a good rider,” he said to Kurt.

  The boy grew taller in his saddle. “I like Clover. She likes me, too. One day I’m going to ride in rodeo like Mom and Dad did. I’m going to win belt buckles, too.”

  “Sounds fun.” Cole lifted his jacket, revealing one of his own hard-won buckles. “Want to check and see if the creek’s flooded?”

  “Yeah!”

  April opened her mouth to protest the idea of going through the pastures to reach Sweetheart Creek, a longer ride, but Cole said calmly, “The neighbors diverted part of the creek, so a small tributary comes through over here. It’s just a trickle.” He raised his voice so Kurt could hear. “Betcha we find some frogs.”

  “Frogs are hard to catch,” Kurt complained.

  “Sure are.” Cole led them onto a smaller trail to the left.

  There was an easy fluidness to Cole’s movements today, and it tickled something in the back of April’s mind.

  “Where did you end up last night?” she asked, watching him. She’d left the party before him, obviously, but was curious what had happened after she’d gone home to fight with Brant and Heath.

  Cole had been about to point to one of the gigantic oaks, and dropped his hand, looking at her. “What do you mean?”

  The way he focused on her, with no hint of distraction, was all she needed to know.

  “Did you meet someone?” she asked sweetly. She’d left him dancing with Daisy-Mae. Had something interesting happened after that?

  Cole snorted and rolled his eyes, causing her to have a flash of doubt.

  “Here we are at the creek,” he said, sliding off his mount.

  “Awesome!” Kurt called from atop Clover.

  April looked around, seeing just a strip of long, green grass in a sea of dry scrub. But sure enough, there was a small trickle of water.