His Texas Bride

by Deb Kastner

  The sudden brightness, followed by a flash of pain, in Tyler’s eyes was enough for Buck to know the boy had more than an inkling of what Buck was talking about, what he could not bring himself to say aloud.

  “And?” Tyler asked through clenched teeth.

  And? Tyler stared Buck straight in the eyes, daring him with both his gaze and his posture. He was going to make Buck say the words out loud.

  This time Buck did cringe, visibly. He looked to Julie for help. This was her problem, after all. Buck hadn’t invited her here, nor did he particularly want what was happening, even if last evening he’d been encouraging Julie toward just this outcome.

  “And, uh…” Buck stalled, trying to swim through the murk of his confusion. If only he wasn’t so suddenly set on doing what was right, he might lie through his teeth and make it all go away.

  Yet despite the noise in his head, Buck knew he needed to do what God would have him do, no matter what—not take what would clearly be the easiest way out, for a change. Maybe for the first time in his life.

  “We didn’t want you to find out this way,” Ellie said in a soothing tone. “But now that you’re here, you need to know the truth.”

  Tyler already had his arms crossed, and now he took a step backward. The boy’s scowl deepened, if that were possible, Buck thought.

  “Julie is your…uh…” Buck tried his best, but he couldn’t choke out the word. He turned his gaze to Ellie, pleading silently for her to finish his sentence.

  “Julie is your birth mother.” Ellie’s words came out in a rush of air, one on top of the other.

  Time seemed to stand still as Tyler absorbed the news. Suspecting was one thing. Hearing it out loud was another thing entirely. Tyler shook his head slowly from side to side, still in slow motion; at least it felt that way to Buck.

  “No.” The young man’s hands came abruptly down to his sides in fists. The single word was quiet, the protest uttered through Tyler’s clenched teeth. The boy slid his gaze from face to face, his eyes narrowing until they rested on Buck.

  “No!” Tyler exclaimed, louder this time. He smashed his now-open palm into the back of an empty chair, which slapped violently against the table before it teetered and fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

  Howling in fury, Tyler swung on his heels and dashed through the back door and out of the house. Buck watched him go, too dazed to do anything but look. His heart was breaking into a million tiny pieces.

  “Well,” Ellie said on a sigh, “that’s about what we expected, isn’t it?”

  Ellie squeezed Buck’s hand again, mumbling compassionate reassurances under her breath.

  “Should I…Should I go after him?” Julie stammered hesitantly, tucking her short blond hair behind her ears.

  Buck shook his head and then clamped a thumb and forefinger over his temple, where a sudden headache had developed like a spring thunderstorm. He took a ragged breath. “No,” he said, groaning at the stabbing pain in his head. “I’ll do it.”

  Ellie squeezed his hand again, and he lost himself for a moment in her compassionate gaze.

  “Everything is going to be fine,” she reassured him, her voice low and even, though her hand was shaking.

  Buck nodded, though he wasn’t the least bit sure everything would ever be fine again. He stood and jammed his cowboy hat on his head, pulling the front tip low over his brow, shading his gaze from the ladies.

  Julie might not notice any change in his expression, but Ellie had a gift that way. She was sure to see the telltale moisture in his eyes, a weakness that he most desperately wanted to hide.

  “Maybe you should give him a few minutes to cool down,” Ellie suggested kindly.

  Buck nodded once again, short and clipped. “I’ll take my time getting down there. I need to pray about what I’m going to say, anyway.”

  “You know where he’s going?” Julie asked, her eyebrows arching in surprise.

  He chuckled, but it was a dead sound. He moved his gaze back to Ellie, who was nodding.

  “I have a pretty good idea where to find him,” Buck informed his ex-wife.

  “Are you sure I shouldn’t go with you?” Julie queried. “This is all my fault.”

  “No,” Buck replied testily, and then he inhaled sharply. “I mean, I think it’s better if I talk to Tyler on my own first—to try to get him to see reason, you know?”

  Julie cringed. Ellie reached across the table to pat Julie’s shoulder, a comforting gesture Buck wished was meant for him and not his ex-wife. That Ellie was here at all was a show of just how deep her faith ran and how strong her character was.

  Buck loved Ellie more in that moment than he thought possible. He silently thanked God again for his second chance with Ellie and prayed the present circumstances hadn’t ruined everything. He tipped his hat to the ladies and exited through the back door, the way Tyler had gone.

  Buck did know where Tyler had gone—at least he thought he did. His mind flashed back to the first day here on Ellie’s ranch, the day Tyler had helped Ellie deliver the little colt that now belonged to him. It only made sense, didn’t it, for Tyler to find solace in the company of the horses he loved so much?

  Still, Buck took his time, scuffling slowly down the hill and toward the stable, in no hurry to confront his angry son, even though he knew it needed to be done, and he was the one to do it. His own heart was still rocking from Julie’s betrayal, though the years—and his new relationship with Ellie—eased that pain somewhat.

  But for Tyler, this was all new.

  His son had been too young to really remember his mother. It pained Buck to speak of Julie, so he hadn’t, brushing off young Tyler’s questions about his mother until the boy no longer asked.

  Buck scoffed and shook his head, though he was walking alone, with no one to see. Had he inadvertently made things worse for his son?

  As Buck ambled down the hill, he noticed dust rising from the corral. He had thought Tyler would be hiding in the stable, so he was surprised to see the boy out in plain sight, putting one of the horses through training motions.

  Buck approached the corral quietly, leaning on the railing to watch his son in action. Tyler, his camel-colored hat as low over his brow as Buck’s own, didn’t seem to notice his advancement; or if he did, he didn’t let on that he knew Buck was there.

  For a moment Buck let him be. Tyler would speak when he was ready.

  Buck couldn’t help but smile as he watched his son work. Tyler had a rope halter over Sophie, the new colt’s dam. The boy was leading her around the stall, slowly letting out the lead as he turned, until the mare was trotting around the outer rim of the corral.

  At her heels was Jet, gamboling around the corral, trying to keep up with his mother.

  Pride welled up in Buck’s chest. Tyler had obviously been paying attention to Buck’s work with horses over the years. The boy instinctively knew that the first step in training the colt was to have him mimic his mother’s paces. Before Buck knew it, Tyler would be leading Jet around with a halter of his own.

  Buck nodded enthusiastically as Tyler turned his direction. The boy ignored him and quickly turned his back on Buck, but Buck could hear Tyler encouraging the mare—and the colt—with soft, gentle nonsense words.

  Dust flew as Tyler nudged the mare into a canter. The colt, confused by the sudden change of velocity and unable to keep up with his mother, bucked and pawed at the ground in the center of the corral. Buck chuckled at the little horse’s antics, especially when Jet began nosing his muzzle into Tyler’s side, under his arm, near the chest pocket of his flannel shirt, where, Buck guessed, Tyler had stashed some sugar cubes.

  At the sound of Buck’s laugh, Tyler froze, still turned away from his father. The mare continued galloping around the corral, but Tyler no longer held her in check with the lead, which was dangling loosely. His hands were once again curled into fists, and Buck thought he saw his son’s shoulders quivering.

  Crying?

  Buck c
ouldn’t blame Tyler for his tears, but it sure broke his heart to see his son in so much pain. Buck had never been one to cotton to the old “Real men don’t cry” adage, which his own father had pushed on him, even if he himself had serious issues with expressing emotion.

  “Son,” he called over the clamor of the horses’ hooves. “Tyler. Are you okay?”

  Now Buck could definitely see Tyler’s shoulders shaking, and he wondered what he could possibly say to ease the situation, to rub away the hurt.

  Were there words?

  Buck had never been good speaking his feelings aloud, and this was no exception. Clearly this was not the best approach, but he couldn’t think of a single other thing to say that wouldn’t make things worse.

  “Tyler?” he called again.

  “Just. Leave. Me. Alone,” Tyler hissed, without turning around to face his father.

  Buck shook his head, only belatedly aware that Tyler couldn’t see the movement.

  “No, son,” he said at last and then cleared his throat against his smoky voice. “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

  Tyler turned then, swiveling so quickly Buck barely saw him move. Buck’s gaze was fixed on his son’s face. He had expected pain. Grief. Sadness.

  He was taken aback, for all he saw in his son’s narrowed, piercing gaze was anger.

  Ellie had no idea what to do with Julie while Buck was talking to Tyler. She was so uncomfortable, she almost wanted to jump out of her own skin. She could think of nothing to say to Buck’s ex-wife—at least nothing kind.

  Besides, her mind was on Tyler. It was heart-wrenching enough just to have been in the room with Buck, especially when Tyler had come in. What must the boy have thought, having such colossal information just flung at him out of the blue?

  It certainly wasn’t the way Ellie would have done it, though, truth be told, she couldn’t think of a single way that would have saved Tyler the angst he was now facing.

  It was obvious Julie was pondering the same thing. Her mouth was twisted, and she was clasping her hands in a repetitive, though not rhythmic, motion. Julie’s blond hair had fallen into her face, but she didn’t brush it back.

  Not wanting to sit and stare at the woman, Ellie got up and reached for the coffeepot, refilling both their mugs with the steaming liquid. At least that gave her something to do with her hands, however small. She contemplated cleaning the oven—from top to bottom.

  Now.

  She would have laughed at the picture that made if the circumstances weren’t so serious. Ellie thought she should say something to Julie, but she didn’t know what.

  “The last thing I meant to do was to hurt him,” Julie said, still wringing her hands.

  “Tyler?” Ellie asked.

  Julie lifted her gaze. “Tyler,” she agreed, her lips still pinched. “And Buck.”

  Ellie blinked a couple of times. In her head she knew Julie wasn’t being possessive—she was just stating facts. But Ellie’s heart didn’t want to agree.

  “How long do you think they’ll be?” Julie asked, furtively glancing at her watch.

  Ellie shrugged, not bothering to look at the clock. “I don’t know. A while, probably. I wouldn’t be surprised if Buck has to chase Tyler all around the ranch to get him to listen. Tyler’s a bit stubborn that way.”

  “Just like his father,” Julie noted. She chuckled, but it was a dry sound.

  Ellie nodded. Yes, Tyler was like Buck, in more ways than she could count. What would happen if they couldn’t work through this situation? She might lose them both.

  “And his age,” Ellie said belatedly. “Teenagers definitely have minds of their own.”

  “Thirteen,” Julie murmured. “The years seem like they are getting shorter and shorter.”

  “They do, don’t they?” Ellie said contemplatively. “I remember when I was a teenager. It seemed to me as if a year would last forever.”

  At least until Buck had left.

  The first few years, Ellie remembered with a dull stab of pain in the general area of her heart, had stretched on interminably. She had thrown herself wholeheartedly into her college studies and then, with God’s grace, she’d found her therapy ranch ministry.

  And now she had found Buck again and had fallen in love with both him and his son.

  Julie pushed her hair back and looked at her watch again, impatience lining her brow.

  “This is going to take some time,” Ellie reiterated, not so much to remind Julie as to soothe her own fears. “I’d better brew another pot of coffee.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Anger.

  Tyler was staring at Buck with pure, unadulterated rage. Buck would go so far as to say there was downright hatred in his son’s expression. Buck assumed that particular emotion was aimed at him as much as at Julie.

  And who could blame the kid?

  Buck was angry at himself. While it was true that Julie had deserted him and Tyler, Buck had been the one to carry a grudge all these years. A grudge that ultimately had hurt his son.

  He couldn’t change the past. But he could do his best to make amends now.

  “I’m sorry you had to meet her this way,” Buck said, reaching over the fence to grab the mare’s lead away from Tyler and slow the horse to a skittering halt. “I didn’t mean for you to meet her this way.”

  “Whatever.” Tyler sniffed and pulled his hat even lower over his eyes.

  They were back to that, then.

  “No, not whatever, son. You can’t just walk away from this. We can’t walk away from this.”

  “Why not?” Tyler challenged.

  Buck kicked himself over the fence in one leap and then strode to Tyler’s side, wrapping his arms around the boy before he could scamper away. He held on tightly until Tyler stopped squirming in his grip.

  “Julie is your mother, champ.”

  “That woman is not my mother.” Tyler had frozen rock solid in Buck’s grip.

  “Yes, she is,” Buck maintained in a monotone voice. “Well, your biological mother, anyway.”

  Tyler jerked his shoulder, breaking Buck’s grip. The boy beelined for the stable. Buck regained the mare’s halter and led her and the foal into the stable at a slower pace, purposefully giving Tyler a moment to compose himself.

  As Buck expected, Tyler was slumped in the hay in a back corner of the birthing stall, his arms locked around his knees, his hands gripping his wrists. His head was down, hiding his expression, but Buck could hear that Tyler was crying.

  It broke his heart. Again.

  “I’m sorry, son,” Buck said on a sigh. Absently he removed the halter from the mare and rubbed her down.

  “You’re sorry?” Tyler accused.

  “I have a lot of regrets in my life,” Buck admitted quietly, crouching before Tyler.

  “Like me?” Tyler mumbled under his breath, so softly Buck barely heard the words.

  “No!” Buck exclaimed. He lifted his hands to cup Tyler’s face, forcing the boy to look at him. “Never.”

  He could tell Tyler didn’t believe him, as pain overshadowed the anger in the boy’s shiny blue eyes. Tyler’s pain echoed in the deepest recesses of Buck’s heart, like his insides were being cut out with a dull knife.

  “Never,” Buck repeated, stronger this time. “Never, ever. Not one single day, Tyler. There’s nothing in my life more important to me than you.”

  Tyler blinked in rapid succession, but tears still slipped through his eyelids. Buck brushed the wetness away with the pads of his thumbs.

  “What I regret,” Buck continued, “is not telling you the whole truth about your mother. I thought it would be easier for you if I let you think whatever you wanted about her. Now I see I gave you ample space to create your own reality, one that was even worse than the truth.”

  “That my mother left because of me,” Tyler hissed, his tone bitter.

  “No!” Buck exclaimed again. “None of this was your fault. You have to believe that.”

  Tyler didn�
��t answer.

  Buck took a deep breath and plunged forward. “You should know that Julie came here with the intention of making amends—to tell you she’s sorry for not being there for you when you were growing up.”

  “Why now?”

  “She became a Christian, Tyler,” Buck explained quietly. “She didn’t want to go through the rest of her life without asking for your forgiveness.”

  “It’s not fair,” Tyler insisted. “I hate her. Julie has ruined everything!”

  Buck cringed. It wouldn’t do for Tyler to carry his hatred like a beacon around his neck. Buck should know. Wasn’t that exactly what he had done, not only in the past ten years with Julie, but before that, with the quarrel with his own mother? And he had blamed God, he realized, for everything that went wrong in his life.

  “It won’t do you any good,” he said aloud, his voice raspy. “Hating your mother will only make you miserable.”

  “It won’t do any good?” Tyler echoed, his voice becoming more high-pitched by the moment. He brushed Buck’s hands away. “You won’t even try, Dad. How fair is that?”

  Buck’s brow creased as he considered his son’s words. “I’m not sure I follow you.”

  Tyler glared at Buck and then rolled his eyes, as if his father was the stupidest man alive. Maybe he was.

  “Make her go away,” Tyler snapped.

  Buck sat down by his son, groaning as he leaned his back against the wall. He stared at Tyler for a good minute without speaking.

  “Okay, I will,” he said slowly, thoughtfully. “If that’s what you really want.”

  “You will?” Tyler asked, relief flooding into his shaky voice. He actually sounded hopeful, which immediately played on Buck’s heartstrings. “Really?”

  Buck nodded solemnly. “Of course I will. But I think you should think about this first. Your mother…”

  Tyler leveled him with a glare.

  “Julie has come a long way to see you. She lives in California now.”

  “So?”

  “She might not deserve our forgiveness,” Buck admitted, patting his son’s arm. “But look at it from another perspective. Jesus saved us—forgave us—knowing every misdeed in our past and all the wrong things we have yet to do. If God is willing to do that for us, can we do any less?”