by Linda Warren
“Are you saying you don’t want me to see him?”
The old guilt trip was layered thick with hurt feelings, and Phoenix was having a hard time sticking to a decision he knew was right for him and Jake.
“No. You can come to the bunkhouse and see him anytime you want. But Jake has to learn that his home is with me.”
“Phoenix, this is crazy. I can take care of that baby and you can continue on with the rodeo circuit. It’s very simple. I don’t understand why you’re making it so hard.”
He gritted his teeth to keep words from spewing out. He would never be rude to his mother. But she looked at him like a young boy who couldn’t handle responsibility. He wasn’t that boy anymore. He’d changed the moment he’d found out he was a father.
“I’m doing what’s best for Jake.” He said the words slowly and firmly.
“It’s not best to drag that kid all over the country, Phoenix. He needs a home.”
“I realize that.” He turned toward the door, not able to stand there and defend his decision one minute longer. “I’ll see you later.”
Jude followed him out. “Come on, Phoenix. Mom is just trying to help. Would leaving Jake here be so bad?”
Phoenix stopped and stared at his brother. “Would you leave Zane for days at a time?”
Jude looked down at the ground.
“No, you wouldn’t, and I’m not leaving my son, either. That may be hard for everyone to understand, but it’s my decision, so please stop pressuring me.”
Jude held up his hands. “Okay, but please invite Mom over to visit with Jake.”
He was starting to feel claustrophobic from all the family advice. He just wanted one of them to say he could raise Jake and be a responsible, mature adult. Just one of them. That’s all he wanted. But now he would have to prove it.
“Zane is going to want to meet him, too. He’s upstairs with his mother, finishing a paper for school this morning.”
Jude, Paige and their thirteen-year-old son Zane lived in the house with Mom, and that worked for them. But Phoenix knew it would never work for him.
“I’ll make sure Zane meets his cousin.”
“Thanks.” Suddenly Jude reached out and hugged his brother and Jake. “I know you can do this. Please believe that. But we’re all a little anxious for you.”
Jude always knew the right thing to say. They were born in the same year and grew up like twins and were close. They were the two Rebel boys who’d been shot by Ezra McCray, and they shared a bond that could never be broken. Phoenix witnessed that today.
“Thanks. See you later.” Phoenix walked toward the bunkhouse, holding his son. Every now and then Jake would hold the toy horse up and say, “Horse.”
As Phoenix walked, he had to admit he also was a little nervous about caring for Jake. He didn’t want to do the wrong thing for his son. What he needed was a woman’s touch, and Rosie McCray’s face snapped into his mind with vivid clarity. It was a little crazy and disorienting, but it felt right and good like gravy on mashed potatoes.
“How does the name Rosie sound to you, son?”
“Horse.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Chapter Six
Phoenix loaded Jake into his car seat and drove into town to the grocery store. He had to buy food for his son. Mrs. Devers had given him a list and he followed it—up to a point. He added SpaghettiOs because he had liked SpaghettiOs as a kid and he felt that Jake would like them, too. They were on the menu for lunch.
While Jake played with his toys in the living room, Phoenix put up the groceries. He was about to open a can of SpaghettiOs when his mother walked in.
“Hi, son.” She placed a basket covered with a red-checked cloth on the counter. “I made fried chicken, green beans and mashed potatoes and gravy and brought some for you and Jake. I’m on my way to carry lunch to your brothers.”
Phoenix sighed inwardly. His mother just wasn’t going to let up. She didn’t trust him to raise Jake. That hurt.
She went over to the sofa and sat down, watching Jake play. She reached down, picked him up and placed him on her lap. Jake didn’t resist. He just stared at her with big eyes.
“You look just like your daddy.”
“Dad-dy.” Jake pointed to him.
“It’s uncanny how he knows that,” his mother said.
“Yeah, isn’t it?” He couldn’t hide the sarcasm in his voice, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“How are you doing changing diapers?” she asked. “I worry about your weak stomach.”
He clenched his jaw. “I’m handling it.” He wouldn’t tell her he had to hold his breath and he almost threw up his breakfast this morning.
“You know, I could do that. I don’t have a problem changing diapers.”
“Mom, I know you’re trying to help, but Jake needs me right now. Not his grandmother or his uncles or his aunts. He needs me.”
“I never realized you were so stubborn.”
He hadn’t, either. He was usually easygoing and willing to pass off responsibility in the blink of an eye. But not this time.
She kissed Jake’s cheek. “Grandma has to go. Your uncles are waiting for lunch, but I’ll see you soon.” She placed Jake on the floor and walked out.
“Ma.” Jake got to his feet and ran for the door, but Phoenix beat him to it. He picked him up and stared into his watery eyes.
“It’s okay, son. It’s time for lunch.”
“Ba-ba, Dad-dy.”
That’s what Jake called his bottle. Phoenix thought this might be a good time to wean him. He reached for a small glass in the cabinet and put some milk in it. When he tried to get Jake to drink from it, the kid shook his head and shouted, “No!”
“Daddy wants you to drink out of the glass.”
Jake’s face scrunched into a frown. “No.”
Phoenix gave up. It might be too soon.
While Jake took a nap, Phoenix put a latch on the door so Jake couldn’t get out. Then he sat on the sofa and went to sleep. Taking care of a child was hard work. He’d never realized that before.
In the afternoon, Leah, John and Grandpa came over, with Leah pulling John in a red wagon. Jake and John crawled in and out of it, giggling and playing, having the time of their lives. Leah apologized for overreacting earlier that morning. Phoenix really didn’t have any bad feelings about it. Kids were kids.
Then Paige and Zane came over to meet Jake, and it was another round of meeting people. But Jake adjusted well. Tomorrow, Phoenix decided, he would have to do something different. Family wasn’t going to leave them alone. He didn’t know why that was so important to him, but he felt he and Jake needed this time alone to bond.
That night his mother sent pot roast for supper by way of Paxton. Phoenix knew he wasn’t going to win this battle, but he was determined to make changes. Rico came in from work and they ate. Once again, Phoenix tried to get Jake to drink out of a glass, but he refused loudly. After that, Phoenix gave Jake a bath and got him ready for bed.
Jake ran into the living area in his SpongeBob SquarePants pajamas. Rico was in his recliner, watching television, and Paxton was sprawled on the sofa, drinking beer.
Jake went over to him, pointing to the beer bottle. “Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.”
“He wants beer, Phoenix.”
“Don’t give him any.” As he said the words, a thought occurred to him. He went over to Paxton and took the bottle out of his hand.
“Hey.”
“I’ll bring you another.”
He looked at Jake. “You want beer?”
“Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.” Jake reached for the bottle.
“Stay with Uncle Paxton and I’ll get you some.”
“What are you doing?” Paxton called.
“Being sneaky. I’ve been trying to get him to drink out of a glass, but he won’t.” He quickly poured the beer down the drain, reached for the milk in the refrigerator and filled the bottle about half-full. Carrying it back into the living room, he sai
d, “Come here, Jake. Daddy’ll give you some beer.”
Jake crawled onto his lap, and Phoenix held the beer bottle so Jake could sip it. He didn’t have time to rinse out the bottle, so it had to have some beer taste in it. But he didn’t worry about that as he held his breath.
Jake took a sip, then another sip and then another. In Phoenix’s arms, he continued to drink from the bottle. It wasn’t ideal but, at least, Jake wasn’t sucking on a nipple. Soon Phoenix would have him drinking from a glass. That was his plan.
“Now I’ve seen everything,” Rico said.
“Where’s my beer?” Paxton asked.
Cradling Jake to him, Phoenix got up, went to the refrigerator, got Paxton another beer and threw it to him from across the room.
“Damn, Phoenix. Now it’s going to spew all over me.”
“It’s like living in a zoo,” Rico said with a smile.
“He’s out. I’m putting Jake to bed.”
“’Night, little fella,” Rico said. Because of the scar and the long hair, most kids were scared of Rico, but Jake had taken to him like a duck took to water.
Phoenix put Jake to bed and he crashed, too.
*
THE NEXT MORNING Phoenix plucked a beer out of the refrigerator and handed it to Paxton, who was sitting at the table eating.
“Drink this.”
Paxton raised his head and glared at him. “What? You want me to drink beer for breakfast? I have to work today.”
“I want to put Jake’s milk in it. Maybe he’ll drink it that way without using his baby bottle.”
Paxton laid down his fork. “You do realize how stupid this sounds?”
“I didn’t ask for advice. Do you want the beer or not? I’m pouring it down the drain.”
Paxton grabbed the bottle. “Your kid is going to drink out of a beer bottle and I’m going to become an alcoholic.”
“We’ll adjust.”
“Yeah, right.”
Phoenix poured the beer into a glass. All the time Paxton was shaking his head. Phoenix knew this was a little crazy, but then, his whole life was crazy. He poured milk into the bottle and set it in the refrigerator.
“Jake, breakfast,” he called, and Jake came running.
Phoenix lifted him into the high chair and placed his breakfast in front of him. Jake ate the eggs and sausage with his fingers.
“Ba-ba, Dad-dy.”
Phoenix reached into the refrigerator for the bottle. “You want some beer?”
“Beer.” Jake wiggled his feet excitedly. This time Jake took big gulps and was drinking the milk really well from the bottle. At Jake’s eagerness to drink from the bottle, Phoenix had to wonder if Mrs. Green drank beer. It seemed to be something Jake recognized. The picture he had of the little old lady just didn’t jibe with her drinking beer.
“That’s going to get you into so much trouble,” Paxton said as he got up from the table and reached for his hat. “I’m going to work before you warp my mind, and if I were you I’d hide that beer bottle before Mom comes over.”
Rico grabbed his hat, too, and ruffled Jake’s hair. “Bye, little fella.” Then he frowned at Paxton. “I can smell beer on you. You’d better drink another cup of coffee.”
“Damn, Phoenix. Now you’re going to get me in trouble.”
Phoenix smiled as they went out the door. He knew it was pretty bad having his kid drink from a beer bottle, but maybe he could wean him to a glass in a couple of days. Oh, man. This wasn’t the way to raise a kid. He was almost positive of that.
*
MS. HENSHAW PAID a surprise visit to finalize the custody in Texas. She was not happy Phoenix lived in the bunkhouse, but he explained he was a working cowboy and his kid lived where he did. After checking where Jake would sleep and making sure he had everything he needed, she signed off on the custody and wished him well.
Later, he packed the diaper bag and a cooler with milk. He needed three empty beer bottles. He poured the contents down the drain and said, “Lord, forgive me.” In cowboy church, that had to be a sin.
As he was driving out, he called his mother. “Mom, I’m taking Jake into town to get a haircut and then I’m going to buy him some clothes, so there’s no need for you to worry about lunch or supper. Just concentrate on the roundup.”
“I was hoping you’d let me keep Jake today and you could help with the roundup.”
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, fighting for the right to be a father to his kid in the way he wanted. That way might not be the right way, but he was doing the best he could, even if he had empty beer bottles in his cooler.
“I don’t think Jake will be comfortable with anyone else right now. I probably won’t be able to help much with the roundup until I have Jake settled. I’m willing to add more of my earnings to the Rebel Ranch account.”
“You know you don’t have to do that. I’ll take care of it. Just take care of your son.”
From the beginning he and Paxton had made a deal with their brothers: they would give half of their winnings to the ranch in return for them not being there to help. It had worked well, especially since they started winning. So Phoenix didn’t harbor any guilty feelings about that. He just had this big ache in his stomach from his mother treating him like he was fifteen years old.
At that moment he was never more aware of his mother’s favoritism. He was the baby and she always took his side when he had a riff with the brothers, like the time he spiked the punch at a party and got Grandpa, Eden and Zane sick. Falcon and Jude were gunning for him. But his mother smoothed it over as if nothing bad had happened. Falcon should have beaten him to a pulp. Phoenix would have been very upset if someone had done that to Jake. Suddenly, being the favorite was not a good feeling.
Phoenix took Jake to the local barbershop that was run by two old cowboys who told stories just as vivid and untrue as Grandpa’s. Jake sat very still in the chair and kept his eyes on Phoenix as if to make sure he wasn’t leaving.
Afterward Phoenix asked Jake, “Ready to go shopping for jeans and boots?”
“Boots,” Jake said as Phoenix strapped him into the car seat.
He ran around to the driver’s side and paused before backing out of his spot. What he needed was some help. A woman’s help. A blue-eyed redhead’s help. But how did he find her? Especially when she didn’t want to see him.
He pulled out his phone. She might have a Facebook page like most rodeo riders. Zane had set one up for Phoenix and Paxton. He clicked onto his Facebook page and typed in Rosie’s name in the search. Her page came up immediately, and there she was with her long hair and tight jeans on that beautiful palomino. But the horse paled into insignificance compared with the rider. The page said she lived in Temple, Texas. That could be anywhere in the area. How did he find her address? The sensible part of his brain seemed to have stopped working.
A picture of her live-in trailer parked to the left of a red barn caught his eye. There was something on the barn. He made the picture larger and centered it on the barn. It was numbers, one on the left and one on the right. Could they be part of her address? Maybe a county road?
“Dad-dy.”
“Daddy’s playing investigator, Jake.”
“Horse.” Jake held up the toy in his hand.
“Yeah, horse.” He looked back at his son. At night Jake slept with Floppy, the dog, but the horse was the first thing he picked up every morning. Somehow the horse connected Jake to him.
He glanced at the barn again. The right number had to be a Bell County road, and the number on the left had to be the address. So he used his GPS and typed in the address. It worked like a charm.
“What do you think, Jake? Should we go shopping by ourselves or enlist the aid of a pretty woman?”
“Horse.”
He knew what he was going to do. He didn’t feel good about it, but he was desperate. Jake was his kid and if he let go just for an instant, his family would take over. Phoenix was Jake’s father and the one who took care
of him. He was holding on with all his might to keep his son with him. It was a little daunting to realize how much power his mother wielded over him.
With the GPS in his truck he found the county road easily and then just watched the numbers on the mailboxes. There weren’t that many. The houses were few and far between. He passed her home before he realized he’d reached it. While he turned around, he thought about what he was doing: making friends with the enemy. The Rebel/McCray feud blasted to the forefront of his mind.
The feud had destroyed and eventually killed their father, and his mother had grieved for him since. Phoenix saw it every day in his mother’s eyes. So what was he doing here? As he maneuvered the truck, some of his dad’s words came back to him: Whenever you have a problem that seems insurmountable, just lead with your heart, son, and you’ll be fine.
I’m leading with my heart, Dad.
He felt his dad would understand.
He stopped at Rosie’s entrance and stared at the property. The trailer was there and her truck was parked near the small barn. And that’s all there was. He didn’t see a house. Maybe it was farther back in the woods. He drove over the cattle guard, refusing to think about what he was doing—invading her privacy. Maybe he was a wild Rebel after all.
*
ROSIE HAD SPENT the morning working with the horses. She had a rodeo in Stephenville on Friday and she didn’t want Lady getting stiff or lax. She barrel-raced all three of her horses just to keep them in shape. The barrels were set up in the corral and she tried to race them often. Of course, while she was away the other two horses got time off, but sometimes she carried an extra with her. But they couldn’t keep up with Lady’s speed.
After taking care of the horses and feeding them, she went back to the trailer. Between the trailer and the barn she had an old water trough and had filled it with water, letting the sunshine warm it. She had only a shower in the trailer, and she loved taking a bath.
She stripped out of her clothes and laid them on a chair she’d put beside the trough. After pinning up her hair, she slid into the water and gasped. Goose bumps popped up on her skin from the coolness, but soon she adjusted to it. She sprinkled bubble bath in and reached for the scented soap and scrubbed away the grime from the morning. Then she just relaxed, floating around in the water. There was nothing like a bath.