Twin Cowboys for Tamara

by Gigi Moore

  He looked over at Jax, and knew that his brother had decided to do the same. The silent reinforcements at his back felt good, but didn’t go too far in eradicating his guilt.

  “How could he keep this a secret from us?”

  Us—she’d included them all, giving them the same status of unknowing family members as herself. Christ, but he felt simultaneously relieved and sick at her acceptance of the circumstances.

  “I don’t know, honey,” Dad said noncommittally.

  Jess still held his breath, waiting for Tamara’s quick lawyer’s brain to kick in—unless shock and grief had dulled her senses.

  He could only hope, at least for the time being, that she wasn’t thinking straight enough to figure things out.

  But what about later? Do you really want to wait for her to figure it out and confront you, or do you want to just get it out in the open and take your medicine?

  He knew what he should do, but couldn’t gather the courage to do it, not now when Tamara already looked so defeated and small. Besides, Dad handled the situation in his inimitable way.

  “You know how your father is. Independent, proud, stubborn…”

  “To the core.” Tamara nodded. “But something like this…I mean he’s dying. And I could have missed the last several weeks if you hadn’t called me.” She put her arms around him and held tight. “Thank you, Jeremiah. Thanks so much for being here for him and being such a good friend. You’re like a brother to him.”

  “It’s nothing he wouldn’t have done for me.”

  Jess closed his eyes at the truth of his father’s words. As ornery and proud as Bailey laid claim, he could also claim fierce loyalty and would kill or die for those he loved, but woe to the soul that got on his wrong side.

  And Tamara’s just like her father in that respect. What sort of retribution would she seek once she found out?

  Tamara pulled back to pat his dad on the leg. “Well, I’d better get in there and see what he has to say for himself.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him.”

  Jess couldn’t help thinking that his dad prematurely begged her forgiveness for the three of them.

  Tamara smiled. “I’ll try not to, but I can’t make any promises.”

  * * * *

  He doesn’t look like a man who’s dying.

  Tamara paused outside her father’s private room, reluctant to go across the threshold, reluctant to stand by his bed and admit the truth despite his appearance. Sure, he looked slimmer than she was used to seeing him, his usual bronze complexion a little paler than normal, but he didn’t look like death. Maybe because she didn’t want him to look like death. Instinctively, she rejected the truth of what the doctor had told her. He was human after all, and he and his colleagues could have made a mistake.

  “Well then, come on in. I ain’t gone bite ya.”

  Tamara shook herself and stared at her father before slowly crossing the floor. She didn’t realize her legs capable of moving until she made it to his bed. She put her hands on the bedside railing just for something to hold on to and do with them, and her father proffered his hand. Tamara gladly took it and immediately noticed the coldness and frailty of it.

  How had she missed this? How had she not noticed his condition?

  True, she hadn’t been back that long, hadn’t seen him in even longer before her arrival, and had been avoiding being with him as much as possible since her return, yet she should have known. She should have recognized that he wasn’t well. But she hadn’t been able to get beyond his insensitive attitude to see that he covered a secret, and he really wasn’t himself.

  “I know what you’re thinking, so don’t go blaming yourself. This ain’t your fault.”

  “Maybe not, but I could have done something to make things easier, to make you more comfortable and—”

  “To pity me?” Her dad shook his head and glared at her. “Thanks but no thanks.”

  “No one said anything about pity but what’s wrong with giving a guy a break, huh? Even a grumpy old guy like you?”

  “You forgot ornery and unreasonable.”

  “Did I call you those?”

  “Among other things.”

  She grinned, surprised that she could and squeezed his hand.

  “Listen, baby, there’s some things we need to talk about before I go…”

  “Dad—”

  “Let me finish because this needs saying.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  He squeezed her hand and closed his eyes tight as if trying to garner his strength before he opened them to pin her with the intensity of his gaze. “I never meant to alienate you or to hurt you. And I certainly never meant for you to leave here and stay away so long without us speaking. Things just got out of hand.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you? Do you really?”

  “I let it happen too.”

  Her dad shook his head. “As the adult I knew better. It was up to me to bring an end to the stalemate. I let stubborn pride get in my way.”

  “Ditto.”

  He chuckled. “You know Jeremiah never stopped trying to get us to talking, to get us back together.”

  “He’s a good friend.”

  “I want you to remember that always.”

  Tamara frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “And as for Jess and Jax,” he began, ignoring her question, “it’s your life. Don’t let what anyone thinks define how you live it or who you want to live it with.”

  She lifted her eyebrows, truly shocked and Dad laughed a hearty laugh that surprised her. “What could possibly be so funny?”

  “Before you came in here, I sat here thinking just how his approaching death can make a man see things a lot clearer, make him a sight more high-minded and magnanimous than he might have been without death looming.”

  “I’m sure you would have come around eventually.”

  “Well, now I ain’t got much choice. I can’t be bitter and interfering, not if I want to set things right with you and your mother and those boys.”

  “My mother?”

  “Let’s focus on one thing at a time.”

  “You brought her up.”

  “I know I did. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I’m trying to clean house. Forget about her for now.”

  Like she could ever do that. Even though her mother hadn’t been around or in her life for years, she still existed, always on the periphery of Tamara’s life and every decision she had ever made concerning her relationships with men. Tamara hated to admit the truth of that, but there it was.

  Her dad peered at her. “So, you decide what you’re going to do about ’em?”

  It took a moment for her to realize her father still talked about Jess and Jax, and once she did, she averted her eyes and murmured, “I’d rather not talk about them right now.”

  “Why not? You think it’s going to send me into a tailspin?”

  No, but it might send her into one though.

  Tamara had yet to recover from his mention of her mother and the confrontation she had been in the middle of with Jess and Jax before Maria interrupted them. And practically on the heels of the boys’ proposal—and she still didn’t know whether it had been a decent or indecent one—came the news about her father’s catastrophic diagnosis. She figured she would be in denial until she saw his coffin go into the ground and the dirt shoveled onto it.

  Tamara choked back a sob at the thought, but couldn’t stop the tears that instantly flooded her eyes, and her father reached up his free hand to thumb them off her cheeks when they spilled out of her eyes.

  “Could you at least wait until I’m dead and buried before you start with the waterworks? I don’t need no reminders I won’t be around for much longer.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. It’s just…I…”

  “Is it the boys? Did they do or say something to hurt you? If’n they did—”

  Tamara petted his hand reassuringly. “It’s nothing like that.”

 
“Then things are fine between y’all?”

  “Define fine.” If fine meant she remained undecided about what to do—stay or go, be with both of them, one of them or neither—then she remained hunky dory.

  “Do you love ’em?” he asked.

  His questions instantly swept Tamara back to his bungalow when he had asked her the same thing right before his seizure.

  She loved Jess and Jax with all her heart, but she’d be damned if she’d admit it to anyone yet. She refused to let a little thing like love and other emotions influence her decision-making processes where her life and career were concerned. She’d done this once with James and had been supremely disillusioned. She didn’t want to make the same mistake—feeling she needed a man to complete her—again. “Would it ease your mind if I told you yes I love them and they love me too?”

  “Hell no, not really.”

  “Then why are you asking, Dad?”

  “Because I want to know that you’ll be taken care of when I’m gone. And I’d rather leave you in the hands of those boys than any others. I know them. They’re good men. A little young for my taste, and you already know how I feel about that whole ménage threesome thing.”

  “Dad…”

  “I want you to be happy, Tamara. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

  “I know,” she murmured.

  But did she need him to step in and protect her now? Did her love for Jess and Jax blind her to logic?

  She had age and wisdom on her side now. She knew what real love meant to her, knew what she wanted.

  What was she willing to do and give up to get it? Did she want to remain successful at the expense of her love life?

  “Oh Christ, you do love ’em.”

  Tamara blinked and stared at her father, saw the look of dawning revelation on his face as if he hadn’t really believed the truth of her feelings until that moment.

  She hadn’t really believed the truth herself and looking at her dad told her just how difficult her ultimate decision would be on all three of them. Love would not mitigate that.

  “I need you to promise me something before I go.”

  Tamara peered at him. “Anything.”

  He released her hand and lay back, breath suddenly hitching in his chest before he coughed spasmodically and closed his eyes.

  She bent toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Dad, are you okay? You want me to get the doctor?”

  He shook his head, opened his eyes briefly to stare at her before he closed them again and coughed some more. When he caught his breath after a few moments he rasped, “There’s nothing they can do for me now.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s the truth.” He caught her hand and squeezed it almost painfully hard, so hard that Tamara winced, surprised at his strength. “But you can do somethin’ for me.”

  “Yes?”

  “I need you to forgive yourself and…forgive your mother.”

  “My mother?”

  He nodded. “She’s not the villain I’ve made her out to be, just human. And she’ll be…be nice to her. She’s on…She’s…”

  Be nice to her? Did he want her to go out, find her mom and reconcile? She didn’t know the first place to look, much less if she wanted to waste the effort. “She’ll be what, Dad? She’s on what?” She’s on her best behavior? She’ll be nice to you too? What does he mean?

  “Please forgive her. And forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. You did your best.”

  “That’s what a man wants to hear before he goes.” He smiled, opened his eyes, gaze full of clarity and passion. “I love you, honey.”

  Tamara watched as her father closed his eyes one last time and listened to the cardiac monitor’s piercing wail when he flatlined.

  Chapter 25

  Her father had a Do Not Resuscitate order.

  Tamara found out about it when several doctors and nurses rushed into his room as he coded but no one did anything despite her shouting for someone to help him.

  She thought she’d have at least a few more days with him. Of course no amount of time could make up for the eighteen years they’d lost. An hour definitely didn’t give them enough time to say all they needed to say to each other.

  Despite her promises to him, she couldn’t help blaming herself now. She remembered what she’d been in the middle of when Maria finally tracked her down to let her know her father had been taken to the hospital, and her face heated with shame.

  She’d been naked, hot and horny, arguing about a life and future infinitely stretched before her when her father’s life had been inescapably, irrevocably dwindling.

  Tamara had been nothing but selfish since she’d come back home, thinking about getting laid and holding grudges rather than being the bigger person and helping out her father in spite of his attitude. She should never had let him hinder her reasons for coming home, should never have let his anger get in the way of her spending quality time with him.

  Had living in New York so long made her so self-absorbed or had she always been this way? Her dad certainly hadn’t raised her that way. Despite all his faults, he’d always taught her to give back and help the weak and needy—everyone at the ranch lived by this creed.

  She and the boys had grown up with a strong sense of volunteerism, donating their time at the local church and schools with the literacy program or lending a hand with the displaced and rebuilding after natural and unnatural catastrophes.

  Tamara had somehow lost sight of this side of herself in New York. Sure, she still donated considerable money to her pet projects, but she didn’t give much of herself to anyone.

  Had James left because of her selfishness? Would Jess and Jax tire of her the same way when they realized she really didn’t have anything else to give than what she had so far?

  Maybe she played herself short. It wasn’t a matter of having nothing more to give, but a matter of her willingness to give it. And she didn’t think she had it in her to give anymore of her heart than she already had.

  God, she was selfish. Both Jess and Jax had professed their love to her, and she had yet to reciprocate. She played it safe and kept her distance, as if something better would come along. She hung back as if she functioned in a court of law and needed to keep her defenses up against opposing counsel instead of dealing with two lovers who had her happiness and welfare at heart.

  Her father had it all wrong worrying about whether Jess and Jax would hurt her. She kept her emotional distance too well to allow them to hurt her, but also to allow them to love her the way she wanted and needed.

  Someone needed to look out for the boys’ hearts instead of hers. She had hers covered, admittedly, all too well.

  “How are we doing over here?”

  Tamara closed her eyes and leaned back into Jax’s body as he massaged her shoulders. She knew which brother by the timbre of his voice—just a shade lighter, drawl a tad stronger than his twin’s. “I’m not sure. I think I’m still in shock.”

  “We all are, sweetheart.”

  “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

  Jax slid his hands from her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her.

  She put her hands over his and burrowed deeper into his hug, searching for comfort that she knew didn’t exist for her, for any of them. But she needed his closeness, reassured by the strong beat of his heart and the idea that life went on.

  You have to make a decision, girl. You can’t leave them hanging like this. It isn’t fair to them or to you.

  Tamara could just hear her father now, could have sworn that he whispered in her ear, lectured her.

  When Jess came into the waiting room carrying what she assumed were two cups of coffee, her father’s voice got louder in her head, telling her to be an adult and choose.

  Guiltily, she eased out of Jax’s grasp and took a step away from him. She stood between him and his twin, crossing her arms across her breasts as if to protect herself. She couldn’t
let them get by her defenses. Every time she thought about herself and them together, in an intimate clinch, she thought about her father being rushed to the hospital without her knowledge.

  Would she ever stop linking her father’s illness to her desire and feelings for the twins?

  Jess proffered one of the cups to her and the other to his brother.

  “Thanks.” Tamara took her cup, cradling it between both hands, welcoming the warmth and taking a deep whiff of the aromatic blend. She raised a brow at Jess. “None for you?”

  He shook his head and reached in the back pocket of his jeans to extract a small bottle of orange juice.

  Tamara smiled as she raised her cup to her lips and took a sip, closing her eyes to savor the warm coffee and trying to get her mind straight.

  She didn’t want to think about the arrangements she and Jeremiah would have to make in the next few days. She didn’t want to think about the people who would be dropping by the ranch to leave their condolences. Most of them she probably hadn’t seen or heard from in years, people who would be looking at her with judgmental and questioning gazes.

  The expected curiosity and inquisition would be the least of her worries, she knew. She still had to sit through the reading of the will a ghoulish act she really wasn’t looking forward to. Besides, she knew her father hadn’t left her anything—not after all the years she had been out of touch—and what she needed and wanted from him she could no longer get. Her being present would just be a formality. She’d do it though, if only to prolong her contact with the boys and Jeremiah, needing that connection to her father and the ranch, needing the connection to home.

  When had she started thinking of the ranch as her home and not New York? When had she stopped missing the city?

  “You say your good-byes?” Jess asked.

  Tamara nodded, unwilling to think about the good-byes she would be saying in the next several days. She didn’t want to let go, but knew she’d have to. She had no choice now.

  Would letting go and saying good-bye to Jess and Jax be as difficult? Why say good-bye at all? She could just stay at the ranch. Give up her career in New York, start all over here and be with them the way they’d asked her to. Should be easy enough, right? To hear the boys tell it, it certainly sounded easy.