Once a Cowboy

by Linda Warren

  He stopped short when the doctor pulled back the curtain. His mother lay there, lifeless and pale. A monitor was attached to her heart and she was getting oxygen. His knees suddenly felt weak.

  “Claudia, your son is here,” Dr. Finley said.

  His mother moaned and moved her head. Against the white sheets her skin looked almost gray.

  “Can you hear me?” Dr. Finley asked.

  “Bro-die,” she moaned.

  “He’s right here.” The doctor motioned for Brodie to come to the bed.

  His boots felt like lead as he moved to her bedside. “Mother.”

  Claudia groped for his hand and he took it, thinking how fragile her fingers were.

  “I’ll give you a few minutes,” the doctor said.

  “Bro-die.”

  “It’s okay, Mother. You don’t have to talk.”

  “Have to, please.”

  “Okay, but don’t get upset.” There was a straight back chair in the small cubicle and Brodie used his free hand and pulled it forward. He held her hand in both of his.

  “You were the…light in your father’s eyes.”

  “I know.”

  “I…I…never saw him so happy as when he held you…for the first time. He had so many dreams for you.”

  He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry I let him down.”

  “You…never let us down.” She squeezed his hand. “We let you down. I…I let you down.”

  “Mother…”

  “When you asked about Helen Braxton, I didn’t recognize the name because…I’d wiped it from my mind. Last…last night it all came back.”

  “You knew Helen Braxton?” His throat felt like gritty sand.

  “No. I’ve never met her.” Claudia took several breaths. “But years ago Cleo mailed the announcement of your birth in the Dallas paper and…I read where her son had been stolen.”

  He licked his dry lips. “Do you know how that happened?”

  “Yes.” She gulped for air. “I took him.”

  Chapter Eight

  He swallowed twice before he could find his voice. “You took him!”

  “Yes. Last night I remembered every horrible detail.”

  “What happened?” His voice was low and hoarse and he tried to maintain control of the emotions he was feeling at her admission.

  “My baby was so beautiful. His black hair and blue eyes were just like Tom’s. I couldn’t wait for him to see his son.” As she talked Brodie noticed her voice became stronger. “The doctor said it was okay to fly when you were a week old. You were very healthy so we had no problems. The night before we were to leave Harold called wanting to talk to Cleo. I told her to go ahead, I probably wouldn’t sleep anyway. I was too excited about seeing Tom.”

  She stopped and Brodie asked, “What happened next?”

  “I fell asleep. When I awoke about three, I realized my baby hadn’t stirred and fussed for his feeding like he usually did. I crawled out of bed to feed him and he was lying so still, so lifeless. As I picked him up I realized he wasn’t breathing. I shook and shook him…when I knew he was dead I went a little insane. I tried calling Cleo, but I couldn’t reach her. I don’t know why I didn’t call for help. All I knew was that our son had died while I slept and I could never tell Tom that. He’d never forgive me.”

  She took a breath. “Somewhere in the insanity of my mind I reasoned that my son was still at the hospital. This dead child wasn’t mine. I got dressed and found Cleo’s car keys. Harold had come by the house to get her, so her car was in the garage. When I reached the hospital, I went inside and up to the nursery. The place was in semidarkness…no one was in the halls. Two nurses were on duty. I waited until they both answered calls then I slipped inside to the babies. There were seven of them and I looked at each one, searching for my son. Then I saw your black hair and I picked you up. You stretched and opened your eyes. They were blue and I knew I’d found my baby. I grabbed a sheet and wrapped you in a bundle and quickly left the hospital. No one saw me.”

  Brodie’s chest felt tight and he struggled to breathe. “What did you do with your baby?”

  Claudia flinched. “Cleo was working on her yard and earlier in the week she’d laid some paving stones to a gazebo she had in the back. I put my baby in a box, got a shovel from the garage and went outside. I pried up one of the stones, then dug a deep hole. I buried my baby and positioned the stone back in place. When morning came I cleaned up the excess dirt. Nothing looked out of place. I called for a cab and went to the airport. I slept for a long time on the flight. When I woke up, I didn’t remember the night before. I felt drugged, but I had my son and soon we’d see Tom.”

  She paused. “I remembered it for the first time in a dream last night. It wasn’t a dream, though. It actually happened.”

  “So I’m not your son?” After all she’d told him, he needed to hear her say it.

  She groped for his hands. “No. You’re not my son. But I loved you with all my heart. Your father did, too.”

  “Why are you telling me now?”

  “So you’ll know the truth from me, even though the DNA has already told you. I know I don’t have much time left and I have to beg for your forgiveness. Please don’t hate me.”

  Suddenly Brodie had reached his breaking point. He shoved back his chair. “I need some time.” Before he could stop himself, he ran from the room.

  A LEX SAW Brodie head for the exit and she jumped up to follow him. Down three flights of stairs she trailed him, taking the steps three at a time. When she reached the bottom floor, she didn’t see him among the crowd of people. She quickly checked other exits, then she spotted him on a garden patio for visitors. Opening the door, she stepped out into the warm summer day. Because of the heat, they were the only two people on the patio.

  He bent over, his hands on his knees, gulping in air.

  She gave him time.

  He straightened and saw her. “Go away.”

  “How is your mother?”

  “Don’t pretend you care.”

  She ignored that tone in his voice, knowing he was hurting. “I do care. I started this, so I feel responsible.”

  Sinking onto a bench, he buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this. I just can’t.”

  She sat by him. “I know it’s hard, but—”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Then enlighten me.”

  He raised his head and looked at her, his eyes a stormy blue. “My mother told me the truth.”

  “Oh.” She was taken aback for a moment. “What happened?”

  He looked down at the concrete and told her all the details. “She wanted me to forgive her and I couldn’t.”

  “That’s probably a normal reaction.”

  He dragged his hands through his hair. “I’m not Brodie Hayes and I’m not Travis Braxton. Who the hell am I?”

  Unable to resist, she reached out and hugged him. He gripped her so tight she thought her ribs might snap. But she didn’t mind. At least he wasn’t pushing her away. The heat from the concrete enveloped them and his aftershave and musky male scent filled her senses. Even with the heat, she thought she could hold him for the rest of her life.

  The thought steadied her more than shocked her. She’d never felt about anyone this way and she didn’t have time to figure out why.

  She drew back slightly. “You know in your heart who you are, and in the days ahead that will become clearer.”

  “Maybe,” he muttered.

  “Would you like to hear about your biological family?”

  “No,” he snapped. “Please stop asking me that.”


  “I have to tell Mrs. Braxton.”

  “Then do, but don’t expect anything from me.”

  “Okay.” She stood and held out her hand.

  He stared at her with a blank expression.

  “Let’s go see how your mother is. In your heart, she’s still your mother.”

  Without a protest, he placed his hand in hers and they went back into the hospital.

  O N THE FOURTH FLOOR , Tripp came toward them. “Where have y’all been? I’ve been looking everywhere.”

  “I’ll let you talk to your friend,” Alex said. “I’ll be back later.”

  “Thanks, Alex,” Brodie said, his eyes holding hers.

  She nodded and walked toward the elevators.

  Brodie watched until the doors closed.

  “Is there something going on with you and the P.I.?” Tripp asked.

  “I don’t think so,” he replied. “But then, I’m not too sure of anything at the moment.”

  “That’s an odd answer even for you.”

  “Wait till you hear the rest.” They found chairs and Brodie told his friend what his mother had told him.

  “Damn. That’s unbelievable.” Tripp twirled his hat in his hand.

  “Try being the cowboy on the end that fall.”

  “I’m sorry, Brodie. I really am. What can I do?”

  “Go home to your family.”

  “I’m not leaving you like this.”

  “We’re not young, immature cowboys anymore. I have to handle this in my own way.”

  “Brodie…”

  “Remember the vow?” Years ago, estranged from their families, they’d made a pledge to each other.

  “ Amigos forever or until that perfect woman comes along,” Tripp said.

  “You’ve found your perfect woman so go home to her. I’ll call you if there’s any change in my mother’s condition.”

  Tripp stood. “I’ll go home, but I’ll be back tomorrow.” Tripp didn’t move, though. “Are you okay?”

  Brodie looked up at his friend. “I’ve taken a hard knock, but you know me better than anyone. I’ve had them before and I’ve survived. I’ll survive this.”

  “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

  “This time I have to.”

  Tripp knew what he meant and they embraced before Tripp walked away.

  Brodie tried to get his emotions under control, but all he could feel at that moment was the softness and gentleness of Alex.

  In your heart, she’s still your mother.

  Alex was right. Claudia was his mother. He couldn’t wipe away those feelings, not even with the sense of indignation, betrayal and deception inside him. He wasn’t Brodie Hayes. He couldn’t seem to get beyond that or its implications.

  Alex said he knew who he was. Right now, he didn’t. That would take time. Maybe forgiveness would, too.

  A LEX MADE the phone call and headed for her office to meet with Helen and Maggie. As she walked in, Buck shouted at her, “Where the hell have you been?”

  She turned to him with a lifted eyebrow. “You keeping tabs on me now?”

  “You ran out of the house like a bat out of hell and you didn’t come home all night.”

  “That never bothered you before.”

  “Well, Naddy was home before and she always knew where you were.”

  “But you’d never ask.”

  Buck threw up his hands. “Okay. You’re fine, so I’m getting back to work.”

  “Good idea. I’ve got a meeting with a client in a few minutes.”

  Buck stopped in the doorway. “The Braxton case?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s good. The woman needs to know.”

  “Yes. But this is not easy on Brodie Hayes.”

  She expected a reprimand about being too soft, but he shrugged and went back to his office, which wasn’t like him at all. And he never questioned her whereabouts in her off time. Was that because he knew Naddy kept tabs on her? Hmm. She was learning more about her father. Maybe he cared about her in his own way.

  She couldn’t even imagine what Brodie was going through—to learn that his parents were really not his parents. Claudia Hayes, distraught over her son’s death, had just walked into the hospital and taken Travis Braxton because he looked like her son. No one knew. No one suspected. By the time the investigation got under way Travis Braxton was in Germany and the Braxton family would never see him again.

  Until now.

  She heard the door open and Helen and Maggie walked in. A tall gray-haired man wearing jeans, boots and holding a hat in his hand, was with them. He had to be in his mid-sixties, fit and strikingly handsome. The lines around his eyes and mouth told another story, one of pain and suffering. His blank eyes completed a picture of a disheartened man. This had to be George Braxton, Brodie’s biological father.

  For a moment she just stared. Brodie favored him so much. No wonder Helen was so adamant about the cowboy in the photo being her son.

  The introductions were made and the Braxtons took their seats. “I finally told George what I’d done,” Helen said. “In forty-one years of marriage I’ve never been able to keep anything from him.”

  She reached for her husband’s hand and he gave a fake smile. Alex saw the dimple in his cheek and it was as if a lightning bolt had struck her. These were Brodie’s parents.

  “Honey, why do you keep doing this? Our boy is gone, just like the others.”

  This was going to be a wonderful moment for the Braxtons, except Brodie wasn’t ready to accept them. She had to handle this very carefully.

  “Is that true, Alex?” Helen asked. “Is Brodie Hayes not our son?”

  “Be patient, Mom,” Maggie suggested, and Alex could hear the nervousness in her voice. She’d probably been through this many times.

  Alex opened the file and pulled the DNA test forward. “I’m not sure how to tell you this.”

  “Just spit it out,” George said. “My wife refuses to accept reality.”

  Alex took a moment, then said the words out loud. “Brodie Hayes is your biological son.”

  No one moved or said a word. “What?” Helen asked, stunned.

  “Brodie is your son, the baby who was stolen from the hospital.”

  “Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” Helen choked out.

  “Is that true?” George asked, the color draining from his face.

  Tears streamed down Helen’s face, and Maggie went to her. The three of them stood holding on, hugging tight. “We found our boy,” George muttered, wiping at his eyes.

  Alex felt a catch in her throat and waited to tell them the rest of the story.

  Maggie grabbed some tissues out of her purse for her parents. “Thank you, Alex. Thank you.”

  “I didn’t do anything but get Brodie to agree to a DNA test. Your mother already suspected who he was.”

  “When can we see him?” Helen asked, taking her seat and dabbing at her eyes.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Oh.” Helen became very still. “Is there a problem?”

  “Brodie’s not taking this well. He needs time.”

  “I want to see my son,” George demanded.

  “It’s not up to you or me, Mr. Braxton. It’s up to Brodie. He’s not exactly a minor, so you’ll have to wait until he’s ready.”

  “Why doesn’t he want to see us?” Helen asked, her voice full of hurt.

  “His mother has had a heart attack and she’s not expected to live. He’s not going to do anything until
he’s resolved things with her.”

  “Is she the one who stole him from the hospital?” George asked.

  “Yes.” Alex folded her hands in her lap and told them the whole story.

  “She has no rights,” George shouted. “She’s a kidnapper.” The despondent man who’d walked into her office was fast disappearing.

  She took a deep breath. “It’s not about rights. It’s about Brodie’s life. Mrs. Hayes is in no condition to offer any resistance. She’s the one who told Brodie the truth about his birth and he’s still at the hospital. That should tell you something. If you pressure him or push him in any way, you’ll lose him for good this time. I’m certain about that.”

  “I don’t understand.” George shook his head. “I just want my son back—my oldest son.”

  Maggie rubbed his shoulder. “Dad, don’t get upset. We found Travis. That’s good news.”

  “What good is it if he doesn’t want anything to do with us?”

  Alex wished she could explain this to their satisfaction, so she tried again. “That baby who was stolen is gone forever. There’s a man in his place now. A man who has had parents all his life—parents he’s loved. It’s not easy to make that one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn to another set of parents. He’s going through a great deal and as his biological parents you should be willing to give him time to adjust. Time that he needs.”

  “Is his father living?” George asked.

  “No. He died several years ago.”

  “So he has just the woman in the hospital?” Helen asked, and Alex noticed she didn’t say mother.

  “Yes, and an aunt.”

  “I can’t believe she took our son.” Helen blinked, as if she couldn’t grasp all the details, then moaned a pitiful sound. “All the time the police were looking for our baby he was in Germany.”

  “Yes. Brodie was two years old when they came back to the States.”

  “All those years I wondered. All those years—now I know.”

  “Yes, Helen. That’s the good news. Your son is alive and well. Now he needs your patience and understanding. Give him a week and I’ll speak with him again. Right now he’s in a state of denial, but eventually he will want to meet you.”