Texas Ranger Dad

by Debra Clopton

  Chapter Ten

  Rose had just added a cutting board piled high with fruit into one of her four stockpots, when she heard Zane and Max drive up. “Stay calm,” she muttered, blotting her damp forehead with the back of her sleeve. “Everything will be okay.”

  Will it?

  How was she supposed to think positively when that voice in her head contributed statements like that?

  “Yes, it will.” If there was one thing she was good at, it was making lemonade out of lemons. Not just lemons, but rotten lemons. And this was just about as rotten as it got. Zane would not take her son.

  He just wouldn’t.

  If he was as lovely a man as the entire town believed—Dottie included—then he wouldn’t!

  She’d thought Dottie would help her figure out a game plan to keep the man away from her and Max, but she’d been sadly mistaken. Dottie had been curious about how she was handling Zane’s arrival, but infatuated, just like Ashby was, with the entire situation. Everyone’s romanticism of her and Zane’s past was wearing thin.

  “Hey, Mom,” Max called, bursting through the doorway.

  He came straight to her and gave her a quick hug, which was very much needed.

  “Hey yourself, kiddo.” She met Zane’s gaze over his shoulder.

  He’d stopped just inside the doorway and looked as uncomfortable as she felt. It gave Rose a wicked sense of satisfaction—this one-sided stuff was the pits.

  “Mom, how about if Dad stays for supper?”

  Rose’s heart clutched at the title and any pleasure she’d felt disappeared. “Sure,” she managed, lifting one corner of her lip in a semblance of a smile, but her hand shook as she reached for the hot pads. It was normal for Max to want Zane to stay. Normal for him to call him Dad.

  What do you mean, normal! Nothing about this is normal.

  Rose shoved away the hysterical voice. It was just going to have to learn to cope.

  Cope. Cope. Cope. She let the word roll through her like a mantra. She could cope. She could cope right along with the best of them. “Why don’t you go get washed up,” she said to prove it.

  “Great,” Max said, draping his arm over her shoulders as he was prone to do since he’d grown taller than her. “I’m starved, and after the day Dad’s had, I’m sure he is, too.” He’d turned them both so they were facing Zane.

  Zane was still standing just inside the door and despite her trepidation about the entire situation she felt her heart tug.

  Not good. Not good at all. The handsome, hard planes of his face did nothing to dispel the fact that he looked to her like a kid hovering on the outskirts of something he wanted very much to be involved in. Whether she wanted to or not, she felt for him.

  “We can look at the pictures you wanted to see of Max after dinner. Please stay.”

  He shifted his weight from one long, booted leg to the other and nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “All right!” Max shouted. “I’ll be right back.”

  They both watched him disappear down the hall. Her heart pounded as she turned toward the stove—which seemed to be its normal pace when Zane was around. Of course it could be fear of what he could take from her that drove the pounding…not that long-ago attraction. This was a possibility, she reasoned.

  But whatever it was it was trouble.

  “Max told me you had a lot of work to do tonight,” Zane said, coming to stand near the stove. He leaned forward and peeked at the magenta concoction in the pots. “From the looks of things, I feel bad intruding. I know you must not have time for this.”

  “No. I have it under control.” She glanced at the large pots on the burners and then the other fruit she’d begun to prepare that was waiting its turn. “You can wash up at the sink if you like or follow Max.”

  “This is fine,” he said, picking up the liquid soap and dispensing some into his palm.

  The kitchen suddenly seemed too confining, and she wished Max would hurry up. She didn’t really know what to say, and so she said nothing. Just found herself staring at Zane’s back as he scrubbed his hands at the sink.

  “It smells good in here,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Sweet,” Rose croaked, startled at being caught staring. “Sickeningly so after a while,” she blurted out. Snatching up the hot pads, she fumbled to open the oven and seriously considered keeping her head inside—she was so embarrassed.

  Thankfully, Max came back into the kitchen moments later as she pulled out the casserole, saving her from having a full-blown breakdown.

  “You should see the place Dad is thinking about buying. It’s real nice.” He explained which property Zane had shown him as he grabbed three plates, then set them on the small table in the corner. The house wasn’t big enough to have a dining room and normally the small table was enough. But as Rose set the casserole on a hot pad in the center, she was very aware how cozy one extra place setting made the seating arrangement.

  “I know that place,” she said. “It has lovely oaks surrounding the house.”

  “You like it?” Zane leaned a hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his impressive chest.

  She nodded. Struggling not to stare, she gave a pot of fruit a stir.

  “I liked it, too,” he said. “But I’m going to take my time. Hey, put me to work. What can I do?”

  “Grab the forks for me,” Max said, snagging three glasses. “Since you’re leaning on the drawer they’re in and nobody else can get to them.”

  Zane chuckled. “Hey, kid, watch yourself.”

  Rose laughed. It startled her and she proceeded to reach for the tea and filled the glasses after Max put the ice in them. He and Rose had a little routine they followed getting their nightly dinner on the table. It came from time spent in homes with other families and everyone pitching in to help. There was nothing different about what was going on now…except everything.

  Max was chattering away, calling her Mom and Zane Dad. And if Zane felt there was anything uncomfortable about the situation, he didn’t act like it anymore. The man suddenly acted right at home—which was the last thing she wanted him to be feeling. Wasn’t it?

  And it didn’t stop with him placing forks and a serving spoon on the table. When they sat down, Max, who always blessed the food for them, passed that honor to Zane. Rose fought off the uneasy feeling that was building inside of her. Max was getting a little too cozy with all of this. But she didn’t know what to do about it; she was completely confused.

  “So Max tells me you’ve already got orders for your jelly.”

  She set her fork on her plate, feeling the familiar tingle of excitement she felt just thinking about her business. She grabbed the topic like a lifeline. “Yes. Several of the specialty shops that stock candy from the candy store have agreed to try my jelly. And I’m selling it at the concession stand that the candy store sets up at The Barn Theater tomorrow evening and Saturday afternoon. Since many of the people who are driving in for the show are tourists they might be interested.”

  “It’s small potatoes right now,” Max added. “But we’ve got plans.”

  Rose explained. “Max and I are coming up with our business plan so we can get some financing to go larger.”

  “That’s right,” Max said. “We’re trying to get some sales figures together and have future orders in hand before we approach the bank for a business loan.”

  Rose felt a bubble of pride expand in her chest as she looked from Max to Zane. He looked just as proud of Max as she felt and their eyes locked as they shared the moment.

  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your son is driven to succeed.” She said the words your son before she even realized it. Zane’s eyes widened slightly, letting her know he was as surprised by her use of the term as she was. She knew he took it as acceptance. She, on the other hand, wasn’t sure what it was.

  “I could tell that,” he said. “When we were out looking at my prospective ranch, he was already negotiating the use of a
cactus patch on it.”

  “Max,” Rose gasped.

  “Hey, Dad’s not the only one I’m hitting up. If we want to expand this jelly business, we’re going to need more fruit than these few acres can give us. Isn’t that right?”

  She couldn’t help but give in to his charming grin. “I just didn’t know you were already getting the ball rolling.”

  “Mom, believe me, I have everything under control.” He looked from her to Zane. “Everything.”

  She concentrated on her food, finishing it off, then picked up her plate, more than ready to get this evening over with. By bringing Zane into their home, she was unintentionally giving Max false hope that they could become a family. She steadied the butterflies of unease in her stomach and rose a few minutes later. “I guess if we’re done we’ll go into the living room and look at those pictures.”

  “That sounds good,” Zane said hesitantly. “Are you sure though that another night wouldn’t be better since you have so much to do tonight?”

  “No. Tonight is fine.” She needed to get this over with. Get him out of her house and give him no other reason to enter it again.

  “I’ll go pull them out,” Max offered and left the room.

  Rose stared after him. He hated looking at pictures. Then again, it wasn’t every day that you got to show your dad your life for the first time. That familiar pang of guilt rang through her at the insight and drove her to keep her composure. She would manage the next hour, because this was for Max.

  “I look like a conehead,” Max said, leaning over Rose to view the picture Zane had just chuckled at.

  “You do not,” Rose protested. “You’re beautiful.”

  “You are supposed to say that. You’re my mother.”

  “So you had a pointed head,” Zane said, his heart warm with affection as he teased Max. “But I have to agree with your mom. You were a beautiful baby.”

  “Hey!” Max exclaimed. “I don’t call you beautiful!”

  Zane laughed. “Forgive me. You’re about as ugly as a hound dog. How’s that?”

  “Much better. I’ve had my cheeks pinched more times than I want to think about.”

  “It’s true,” Rose said. “He suffered for his beauty everywhere we lived.”

  Zane tried to keep the mood lighthearted, but he was struggling. Every picture he looked at of Max and of Rose reminded him that he hadn’t been there. Every remark like this one reminded him that they’d lived like vagabonds, moving across the country from shelter to shelter. It also reminded him that Rose had denied him the right to be there for them.

  “Hey, I promised Gil I’d call him before nine,” Max said, suddenly jumping up from the couch. “Mom, y’all should have some coffee out on the porch or something,” he offered amiably before jogging from the room.

  The little sneak. Zane hadn’t missed the kid’s smooth move when they’d come into the living room to look at photos. Despite Rose’s protest, Max had worked it out so that she was sitting on the couch between him and Zane. Now she scooted quickly to the spot Max had vacated and let the album slide in between them. Fine with him. He’d been more than aware of her for the past hour. He looked from Max’s retreating back to Rose. Embarrassment etched her beautiful face. Yep. He’d found himself drawn to look at her over and over all evening. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that anymore.

  “I’ve taken up too much of your evening,” he said, standing, needing to get away from her. He wondered whether she was aware that Max seemed to be trying to get them together.

  She stood, too, and headed toward the kitchen, where the air was heavy with sweetness from the cooking fruit. He’d intended to leave straight away but as she moved one large pot from the stove to a hot pad and quickly placed another pot in its place, he found his boots weren’t doing any walking. Nope, they were stuck to the floor, even though she hadn’t taken Max’s suggestion and invited him for coffee on the porch. That alone should have been his prompt to get lost. “I could help if you needed me to.”

  “Oh? No.” She was pouring a colander full of prickly pear into the pot of water and glanced over her shoulder at him. “You don’t need to do that. You have work tomorrow so you should go ahead and go.”

  “You have work tomorrow, too.”

  She reached for another loaded-down colander. “I can manage.”

  When she didn’t look at him he felt like he’d just been dismissed. There really was nothing else to keep him hanging around. He grabbed his hat from the hat rack. “I guess I’ll head out, then. Thanks for showing me the pictures. And for dinner.”

  She turned, her face flushed from the heat of the stove. “Have a good night.” Her voice was soft. Her eyes liquid.

  His gut tightened looking at her and he stepped back feeling the screen door behind him. “You, too.”

  She nodded with a faint smile and turned back to her cooking. Zane really took a step toward her, but whirled and put some distance between them as fast as his bum leg would let him. His mind was reeling—all he was thinking about was how kissable she’d looked. Since learning about Max, he’d gone through a stunning array of emotions from anger to this…this need to hold her. To feel her heart beating next to his.

  But she’d lied to him.

  He stopped at his truck and slammed his palms to the hood, staring up at the sky. She hadn’t lied—she simply hadn’t told him he had a son. In her mind she felt her actions were justified since he’d walked away from her…abandoned her. There was no doubt in his mind that if Rose realized he’d been thinking about kissing her, she wouldn’t be happy.

  And could he blame her?

  Chapter Eleven

  Brady hadn’t been kidding when he said Mule Hollow on a weekend was busy. On Friday evening Zane arrived early to The Barn Theater where he was supposed to “keep the peace.” Brady had chuckled as he said the words.

  Zane was impressed with the ancient barn that Ross Denton and his wife, Sugar, had converted into an old-fashioned theater. It was a fairly rustic setup, but unique. And from what he’d been told there seemed to be a fair amount of interest from folks who drove in from surrounding areas for the Friday night show or one of the two shows offered on Saturday.

  Arriving early, he stood over to the side as everyone went about their jobs setting up. He was there basically to direct parking, so he just tried to stay out of the way until he was needed.

  “Zane,” Applegate and Stanley called from the loft section where they helped with the sound and lights.

  “How’s it going, fellas?” He couldn’t help smiling. The two hawk-eyed men looked every bit as alert and on the lookout up there as they did sitting at the window seat at Sam’s. Nothing was going on here that they didn’t see.

  “You look like you had a rough night,” Applegate hollered.

  They didn’t miss anything. “You might have a little hearing trouble, but there’s nothing wrong with your eyes.”

  Applegate chortled. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with my mind, either. How about yours?”

  “Yeah,” Stanley asked. “You got thangs figured out yet? Got that hole in your head fixed?”

  Several people heard the exchange—they’d have been deaf not to, and they cast curious glances his way.

  Not caring to tell the world his troubles, he decided it was time to step outside. App and Stanley’s cackles followed him.

  They’d been right and they knew it. He’d faced the hard facts last night. Everything she’d done had been in reaction to what he’d done. His fault and his responsibility to fix.

  No sooner had he walked out into the sunshine than Norma Sue, Esther Mae and Adela drove up. Norma Sue pulled her big four-door truck to a halt in front of the theater and shoved her door wide open. “Hey, cowboys, can y’all give us a hand? We’re delivering fresh chocolates to the concession stand.”

  She hopped from the truck as Esther Mae stepped from the backseat and Adela from the front.

  “Zane, you take this one, will you?”<
br />
  “Sure.” He grabbed a large cooler from the back of the truck and Ross, the theater owner, came over and grabbed the one he was told to get. Adela held open the door of the small food trailer parked a few feet from the entrance of the theater and they deposited their loads, then went back for more.

  Two loads down and one to go, Ross left to change into his stage clothes, leaving Zane alone with the matchmakers. He’d run into them a few times at Sam’s and they made him a little uncomfortable. Always asking him if he’d seen Rose. Just like Max the night before hadn’t hidden his agenda too far from the surface, these ladies practically carried banners about him and Rose.

  “So, how does it feel to be a dad?” Norma Sue asked as she carried a small cooler beside him. Adela and Esther Mae were inside the trailer getting everything set up for business.

  “It’s great.” Awesome. Unbelievable.

  “Bit of a shock, wasn’t it?”

  “Just a bit. But we’re making up for lost time.”

  She plopped her cooler down on the ground beside the door and hollered inside. “Here’s the last of it, girls.” Then turned to him, hands on hips. “So, you over being angry and frustrated about what she did?”

  Here it came. First the checker players, then the matchmakers. He was quickly coming to realize that Mule Hollow folks were a plainspoken lot.

  His first inclination was to tell her it wasn’t any of her business, but he didn’t. “I’m working on it.”

  “Good. Smart man. So do you miss bein’a Ranger?”

  He tipped his hat back, glad to transfer to another subject. “Yes’m, I do. But I’m adjusting.”

  “Mule Hollow’s a lot quieter than what you’re used to, I’m sure.”

  He nodded.

  “I saw some of you men on television last year escorting a witness to a trial. Y’all were loaded down with guns and the man had a black mask over his head to hide his identity. It was something to see. Did you do that kind of thing often?”