by Marin Thomas
“I don’t know why you’d expect me to mention Marsha. You only went to the prom with her to get even with Linda what’s-her-name.” Buck pointed a finger. “You didn’t care about Marsha.”
“It doesn’t matter whether I cared or not. We made a baby!”
Buck clenched his hands but remained silent.
“Because of you my son has grown into a teenager I have nothing in common with. Zero. Zilch.”
“Give it a chance, Will. He’ll—”
“Do you know he hates rodeo? And get this...Ryan loves to read and I can’t read worth a damn.” Will needed someone to blame for the situation he was in and Buck was an easy target because he’d been closest to Marsha. “Ryan’s never going to look up to me as a father.”
Buck’s face paled.
“You’re my brother! You should have been looking out for me. Once you learned I was Ryan’s father you should have told me.”
Buck’s brooding expression pissed Will off and he punched him in the face, splitting his lip. Buck stumbled sideways but didn’t raise a fist.
“You’re right. I should have told you.”
“Coward!” Will punched Buck in the chest. “You robbed me and my son of fourteen years together!” Will took an apple from the fruit bowl on the table and threw it. Buck dodged the missile, which hit the aluminum wall and made a dent.
“Would it have mattered if you knew you’d fathered Ryan?”
Will gaped.
“You always said you never wanted to be a father.”
Will cringed at Buck’s statement. His brother had hit a nerve and Will tried to defend himself. “What eighteen-year-old is ready to become a father? I didn’t have a steady job. I’d barely managed to graduate from high school.” And their mother had died earlier that year. The family had been in turmoil and he’d been in no shape to raise a child. “Go away.”
“Let me make it up to you.” Buck’s pleading tone grated on Will’s nerves. “I’ll talk to Marsha and—”
“No.” Will sliced the air with his hand. “You’ve done enough damage.”
“Then tell me how to make it right.”
“Leave.”
“What?”
“Get out of town,” Will said.
“For how long?” The whispered question hung in the air.
“Until I figure things out with Marsha and Ryan.” Will didn’t need his brother interfering when he was searching for a way to fit into his son’s life. If Buck hung around, Marsha might run to him when she had a disagreement with Will over Ryan.
Buck opened his mouth but no words came out. It must have been a trick of the light that made his brother’s eyes look watery.
The crushing pain in Will’s chest pushed the air from his lungs. Damn it, he wasn’t the bad guy. Buck had betrayed him.
So why did he feel as if he’d just kicked his brother in the balls?
* * *
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Will asked when he spotted Johnny walking along the path to the fishing hole.
Shell-shocked after meeting his son yesterday and then brawling with Buck, Will had taken his pole and escaped to the one place he could find peace and quiet on the farm. Or so he’d thought.
“I wanted to find out how things went with Ryan,” Johnny said.
“I don’t want to talk about Ryan.”
“Okay. Let’s talk about Buck. I heard you told him to take off.”
“What if I did?”
“Troy’s pretty pissed at you.”
“Troy can find another mechanic to fix his cars.” Will expected his brother to do an about-face, but Johnny stayed put—he was as stubborn as Will.
“You’d better learn how to deal with your situation, because I won’t let you tear this family apart.”
“No one’s tearing anything apart. Besides, what does it matter if Buck’s gone for a while? These days we all go our separate ways.”
“You might not care, but Shannon’s due date is two weeks away. I’d hoped to have my entire family here to welcome my son or daughter into the world.”
Well, shit. Will had been caught up in his own situation and had forgotten about Shannon and the baby. “I’ll talk to Buck and apologize.”
“Good luck with that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Buck’s not answering his phone, and I bet he won’t pick up when he sees your number.”
Will set the pole on the ground, then paced in front of the pond. “What do you want me to do, Johnny?” The look of disappointment in his older brother’s eyes cut him to the core.
“Buck told me the reason you sent him away.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who was disloyal to a brother. Buck should have spoken up for me when I couldn’t.” Will winced. His shout had probably scattered the fish to the bottom of the pond.
“Buck isn’t the one to blame, Will. Marsha hid your son from you.”
Will searched for a rock and when he found a decent-size one he kicked it twenty yards. Johnny was right. Why was it easier to let Marsha’s trespass slide and nail Buck’s hide to the wall for his?
Because Buck’s kin. And it hurts a lot more when family betrays you.
Will didn’t want to care what Marsha thought of him, because he’d never measure up in her eyes or Pastor Bugler’s, but what Ryan thought of him mattered. He wanted a chance to earn his son’s respect.
Johnny nodded to the pond. “While you’re fishing maybe you should consider your role in this situation.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The afternoon we caught Dixie and Gavin taking a shower together before they got married.”
“What about that day?”
“We all got into an argument in the hallway and Buck let it slip that Marsha had told him you’d gotten her pregnant.”
“Yeah.”
“You could have asked Buck when he and Marsha had talked.”
“Why would I care when she told him?”
“You didn’t care, Will, because you didn’t want to ask Buck if Marsha had kept the baby.”
“Marsha told me she was getting an abortion and I believed her.”
No, she told you not to worry about the baby, that she’d take care of it.
Will rubbed a hand down his jaw. He’d wanted to believe she’d meant she’d abort the baby but fear that she might not had kept him from seeking the truth.
Johnny quirked an eyebrow. “You having unprotected sex with Marsha set in motion everyone’s destiny— including yours.” Johnny turned away.
“Wait. Tell me what to do. How do I make this right?”
The sympathetic expression on Johnny’s face sent a sharp pain through Will’s chest. “I don’t have any answers. You’ll have to find your own way through this, but don’t forget...”
Will swallowed hard.
“What’s done is done. All you can change now is the future.”
When Johnny disappeared from view, Will sank to the ground and stared into space. His brother was right. The only option was to move forward and find a place for himself in his son’s life. Will waited a half hour for a fish to bite, then packed up his gear. When he reached the barn, he noticed the pile of new lumber by the front porch.
Damn. He’d promised the twins he’d build Bandit a doghouse this weekend. An idea came to mind—he’d ask Ryan to help and hope that the twins’ constant babble would put his son at ease.
* * *
“I’M SO EXCITED,” Hillary Bancroft said when Marsha slipped into the stylist’s chair at the Bee Luv Lee Hair Salon. “I can’t believe you and Ryan are staying in Stagecoach for the whole summer.”
“I’m looking forward to spending more time with my father,” Marsha said. And Wil
l. She wanted to get to know her son’s father and find out what kind of man he’d become.
Hillary draped a black cape over Marsha and fussed with her wavy locks. “How’s your dad feeling?”
“Dad’s slowed down since our last trip home.” There was no need to go into the details of her father’s battle with prostate cancer—Hillary and her twelve-year-old daughter were members of the Mission Community Church.
“What does Ryan think about being stuck in the desert for two and a half months?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Marsha glanced across the room where the new owner of the salon, Rosie Davis, was styling Fiona Wilson’s gray hair. Fiona had been Marsha’s English teacher in high school but had since retired. Marsha glanced in the mirror and caught Hillary watching her.
“Rosie’s making a bank run as soon as she finishes Fiona’s hair. We’ll have the place to ourselves for a few minutes.”
Good. Marsha didn’t want Hillary learning Will was Ryan’s father through the Stagecoach grapevine.
“Are we doing highlights today and trimming the ends?”
“Highlights,” Marsha said.
“I’ll mix up your color.”
After Hillary disappeared, Rosie twirled Fiona’s chair and Marsha smiled at the schoolteacher. “Any summer plans, Fiona?”
“Nothing too exciting,” Fiona said. “Now how old is that son of yours?”
“Ryan turned fourteen this past February.”
“It’s not too early to discuss colleges.”
“No worries there.” Marsha laughed. “Ryan has his top four already picked out.”
Fiona closed her eyes when Rosie reached for the can of hair spray.
“Ryan would love to study abroad in England, but that’s not in the budget,” Marsha said.
“Make sure he applies for scholarships,” Fiona said.
“I will. I learned from the best.”
Fiona beamed at the compliment. Without the English teacher’s help in high school, Marsha wouldn’t have landed a full-ride scholarship to the University of California in Los Angeles.
“Fiona, tell Marsha about your new boyfriend,” Rosie grinned.
“It’s nothing serious.” Blushing, Fiona got out of her chair. “You probably don’t know him. Clive Douglas. He owns the Triple D Ranch.”
Of course Marsha knew the Douglas family. Her father had made trips to the ranch over the years, trying to convince the single father to bring his three children to church, which he’d done—but only on Christmas and Easter.
“That’s exciting, Fiona,” Marsha said. “I’m happy for you.”
“Clive’s daughter Shannon is expecting a baby in a couple of weeks.”
“Really?” Why hadn’t Marsha’s mother mentioned the news?
“Shannon married Johnny Cash. You remember the Cash boys, don’t you?” Fiona shook her head. “Those youngin’s were nothing but trouble in school. I had them all in my literature class but the one who exasperated me the most was Willie Nelson. He never did his homework.”
Marsha swallowed a giggle. What would Will think if he knew his former teacher referred to him as Willie Nelson?
“I never could understand why the boys’ mother named them all after country-and-western singers. The rascals got into more fights over their names than all the other kids combined.”
Marsha considered the Cash brothers’ names unique but kept her opinion to herself. Of the six brothers, Willie and Merle were the only ones who chose to use a nickname.
“That Johnny Cash is a nice young man.” Fiona pulled out her credit card and handed it to Rosie. “Johnny’s brother Conway married a single mother of five-year-old twins this past spring. Won’t be long before the rest of the brothers find wives and settle down.”
Marsha sympathized with Will and his siblings. Because of their mother’s numerous affairs, the Cash brothers had been the subject of gossip for years, and now Marsha was adding fire to the fuel by making it public that Will had fathered her son.
“Conway took over the family pecan farm and he’s settled right into fatherhood.” Fiona signed her credit slip. “That man loves those twins as if they were his own flesh and blood. After growing up without one, who’d have believed any of the Cash boys would make good fathers?”
“Rosie outdid herself on your curls today, Fiona,” Hillary said when she returned with Marsha’s hair tint.
“Thank you, dear.” Fiona nodded to Rosie. “See you in two weeks.”
Once the door closed behind Fiona, Rosie put on her sweater. “That darned bank is so cold.” She removed the money bag from beneath the counter. “I’m stopping at the drive-in for lunch. Do either of you want to place an order?”
“No, thanks,” Marsha and Hillary spoke simultaneously.
After Rosie disappeared, Hillary rolled her eyes. “She acts all nice to me in front of customers, but when we’re alone, she’s snippy.”
“Why?”
“Because I cut hair better than she does and some of her clients are asking for me now.” Hillary waved her magic comb. “Never mind Rosie. You were going to tell me how Ryan feels about spending the summer at your parents’ house.”
“Ryan doesn’t know his grandfather’s health has taken a turn for the worse. My parents didn’t want me to tell him until we got here.”
“That’s going to be a tough conversation,” Hillary said.
“That isn’t the only thing he’s going to be dealing with.” Marsha’s gaze avoided Hillary’s in the mirror. “I introduced Ryan to his father yesterday.”
Hillary gasped. “Ryan’s father lives in Stagecoach?”
“Yes.” Marsha had never told Hillary who’d fathered Ryan. Her friend had assumed it was a young man she’d met in California the summer after their high-school graduation.
“Wow. I would have never believed you’d slept with a local guy.” Hillary said.
“It happened the night of the prom.”
Hillary gasped. “You slept with Will Cash?”
Marsha nodded.
“Do your parents know?”
“Yes.”
Hillary continued applying the color and folding the sheets of foil over the strands of hair until Marsha looked like a science experiment. “I bet the pastor wasn’t pleased with the news.”
“He’s taking it better than I expected. And it turns out my mother guessed a few years ago, because she picked up on the resemblance between Ryan and Will.”
“I’ve only seen Will from a distance over the years. I’m not sure I could tell.”
“The older Ryan gets the more he looks like Will.”
“What does Ryan think of his father?”
“The jury is still out.” Marsha hoped father and son would grow closer.
“I don’t see them having much in common.”
Hillary had voiced what Marsha had been thinking herself.
“When’s Will going to see Ryan next?”
“Probably today. Ben Wallace’s construction company is building the new wing on the church.”
Hillary whistled. “You mean Will’s going to work right under your father’s nose all summer?”
“Looks that way.”
“Oh, honey. You and I are going to have to schedule a weekly happy-hour date.”
Marsha laughed. “I was hoping you’d volunteer to be my therapist.”
“For the price of a margarita you can cry on my shoulder as long as you want.” Hillary pointed toward the window. “Rosie’s here.”
Too bad—Marsha had been working up the courage to ask Hillary if she’d heard any gossip about Will’s love life.
Marsha closed her eyes, half listening to Hillary and Rosie gossip. Her mind drifted to Will. He was bett
er-looking today than he’d been in high school. He might only be a few inches taller than Marsha but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in a rock-hard body. And he wore his once shaggy hair neatly trimmed, which lent him an air of respectability and maturity—she could almost envision him wearing a tux and escorting her to a faculty party.
Never mind her father being exposed to Will all summer. What about her? When she made eye contact with Will, all she could think about was kissing him.
Chapter Five
“He looks like you.”
“Yeah, he does.” Will climbed a step on the ladder and used a staple gun to attach plastic sheeting to the rear wall of the church. His boss, Ben, stood on a second ladder twenty feet away, securing his end of the covering. Once they protected the sanctuary from dirt and construction dust, they’d tear down a portion of the wall to make room for a hallway that would lead to the new classroom wing.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know you had a son.”
Will didn’t make a habit of sharing his private business with others, but he’d rather his boss heard the news from him than an embellished tale from an inebriated cowboy in a bar.
“So you lost touch with Marsha over the years?” Ben asked.
Lost touch? After Marsha had told Will she was pregnant and he’d insisted she have an abortion, he’d gone out of his way to avoid her and the pastor. “She moved to California the summer we graduated and I never saw her again.” Will popped in the final staple and descended the ladder.
“Man, I’d be pissed if I’d gotten a girl pregnant and she hadn’t told me.”
Will’s chest tightened with guilt, but he took the coward’s way out and said, “Everybody has their reasons for making the choices they do.” He could picture how nervous Marsha had been, facing her parents alone. He never would have guessed the girl he’d known in high school would possess the determination and courage needed to raise a child on her own. To put it bluntly, Will was in awe of the woman.
And she’s way out of your league.
He knew that. Just because they had a son together and Marsha wanted him to grow closer to Ryan didn’t mean she wanted to get close to him, too. “I’ll fetch the weights from your pickup bed and set them across the bottom of the sheet to help hold it in place.”