The Cowboy

by Joan Johnston

  Callie stared from the van parked in the morning shadows behind the house, to her brother, to the young woman standing on the back porch. “And you agreed to this?”

  “Why wouldn’t I agree?” Sam said. “Especially if I’m going to do my part to save Three Oaks from Darth Vadar and the Evil Empire.”

  “Don’t make jokes. This is serious.”

  “I’m on your side, Callie. Trace said some things last night that started me thinking. I realize now that I should have insisted on getting wheels a lot sooner. I made myself a burden on you and—”

  “Oh, Sam, no,” Callie cried.

  “Stuff it, Callie. The truth is the truth.” He turned to the young woman and said, “I’m assuming this vehicle has some mechanism for getting me into the driver’s seat, since you don’t look big enough to lift me up there.”

  She smiled back at him and said, “Absolutely.”

  Sam turned to Callie and said, “I think I can take it from here. You’d better get breakfast on the table before the hungry horde gets downstairs.”

  Callie closed the door and stared out the kitchen window at Sam, who was deftly maneuvered into the van. She waved goodbye, then crossed to pour herself another cup of coffee. Sam sober. Sam driving. Sam anxious to do his share of the work. It was a great deal to absorb in one morning.

  She wasn’t given much time to think about it, because a moment later Eli and Hannah came trooping downstairs. Luke wasn’t far behind.

  “Where’s Mom?” Callie asked her brother.

  “She’s already up and gone.”

  “Gone? Gone where?” Callie asked.

  “Out to the stable,” Luke answered.

  “What for?”

  “I’m hungry, Mommy,” Hannah said, tugging on Callie’s sleeve.

  “In a minute, Hannah. What’s Mom doing at the stable?” Callie asked.

  “Working with the cutting horses.”

  Callie gaped. “Mom? Is exercising horses?”

  Luke grabbed a slice of cinnamon toast from the plate on the counter and handed it to Hannah. “Yep.”

  Luke settled Hannah in her chair and said to Eli, “Bring that bowl of scrambled eggs over to the table.” He reached around Callie, who was still standing rigid in the middle of the kitchen, for the platter of fried ham.

  Callie stared at her helpful brother in disbelief. “What’s gotten into everybody?” she wondered aloud.

  “Trace said I could start earning the money for a motorcycle by working for him in the afternoon, if I helped you out with Eli and Hannah in the morning.”

  While Callie was still reeling at Luke’s announcement, there was another knock on the door. She beat Luke to the door and opened it to find an elderly Mexican woman standing on the doorstep.

  “Buenos días, Señora Monroe. I’m Rosalita’s younger sister, Gloriana. Senor Trace asked me to come today and take care of your beautiful daughter.”

  Callie was too stunned to move. Luke slipped an arm around her waist and drew her back out of the doorway as he ushered Gloriana inside.

  Trace was right behind the Mexican woman.

  “What’s going on?” Callie asked when she saw him. “I don’t recognize my family. It seems you’ve waved a magic wand and turned them all into strangers.”

  “Why don’t we take a walk?” Trace suggested. “We can talk and watch the sunrise.”

  “The sun’s been up for an hour.”

  “Then we’ll look at the clouds. You boys better make a run for the bus,” Trace said to Luke and Eli. “Be good and mind Gloriana,” he said to Hannah, as he urged Callie out the kitchen door and closed it behind them.

  “What’s going on?” Callie asked, as Trace led her away from the house.

  He turned her to face him and gently kissed her on the mouth. “I wanted you to myself for the day, so I manipulated things a little bit to arrange it.”

  “A little bit?”

  “Well, maybe a lot. Forgive me?”

  Callie thought she probably ought to thank him, but she couldn’t make herself say the words. She settled for, “I suppose.”

  “Beautiful clouds this morning,” he murmured, as he kissed her eyes closed. “Come on, Callie. Spend the day with me. Just the two of us. It’ll be fun.”

  “What did you have in mind?” she murmured, as he kissed his way down her throat.

  “I don’t know. What would you like to do?”

  “My family needs me here.”

  “I need you, too, Callie. Will you come and play with me?”

  Callie surprised herself. She said yes.

  Trace took her to his cabin. He said he wanted to pick up a book to read, if they were going to spend a lazy day sitting under the trees, staring at the clouds going by. But when she followed him into the bedroom, he leaned over to kiss her on the neck, and her hand slid down his hip.

  They didn’t come up for air till it was dark.

  When Callie got home, the house was quiet, and she found her mother sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace knitting.

  Callie blushed as she remembered what she and Trace had done in the wing chair in front of his fireplace.

  “Did you have a good time?” her mother asked.

  “Yes, I did,” Callie replied.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” her mother said with a smile. “You look rested.”

  Callie didn’t see how that was possible. She’d been engaged in vigorous exercise all day. “I curled up for a little while and took a nap.” That was true. She’d fallen asleep after they’d made love for the second time.

  “Come sit by me,” her mother said.

  Callie dropped to the floor at her mother’s knee. The clack of the knitting needles was familiar and reassuring. Her glance slid to the empty chair that had so recently been occupied by her father. The world had turned. Their lives had changed.

  “How was your day?” Callie asked her mother.

  “I spent most of it on horseback,” her mother replied.

  “How did it go?”

  The clacking stopped. “I’d forgotten how exciting it is to ride a cutting horse,” her mother said. “I enjoyed myself immensely, though I expect I’ll pay for it tomorrow. I’m not used to spending so much time in the saddle.”

  “You don’t have to do this, Mom.”

  “But I want to, Callie. I thought I’d forgotten everything I knew. I surprised myself by how much I remember.”

  “I’m glad,” Callie said.

  The knitting needles began to clack again. “You should go with him,” her mother said.

  “I’m afraid you’ll sell once I’m gone,” Callie admitted, as she stared into the fire.

  “I’d never sell unless I had to.”

  Callie looked up at her mother and said, “I’d never sell at all. I can’t leave until I’m sure Three Oaks is safe, Mom.”

  “Trace won’t wait for you forever.”

  Callie felt an ache in her chest. “I know, Mom. I know.”

  Callie hadn’t planned to have a party to celebrate Eli’s eleventh birthday, because she didn’t want Trace counting days on the calendar. She felt guilty that she hadn’t told him about his son, but she was certain that if Trace knew the truth, he would insist on taking Eli with him to Australia. So she’d intended to observe Eli’s birthday without a great deal of fanfare.

  But Lou Ann had called to say she wanted to host a birthday party for Eli so Dusty would have a chance to practice with his new prosthetic leg around friends, and went on and on about how self-conscious Dusty felt wearing the artificial limb, until Callie didn’t have the heart to refuse.

  Eli was delighted at the prospect of all the presents he’d receive, all the games he’d get to play, and all the cake and ice cream he’d get to eat. Callie helped him make a list of the friends he wanted to invite.

  “Is Trace coming?” Eli asked when they were done.

  “Do you want to invite him?” Callie asked.

  Eli doodled on the pa
per in front of him. “He’s kind of bossy.”

  “I think orders come naturally to the ramrod of a big outfit,” she said.

  “Trace isn’t the boss of us,” Eli pointed out.

  “True,” Callie conceded. “But I think he means well, don’t you?”

  Eli gave a noncommittal shrug. “I guess.”

  “You don’t have to invite him,” Callie said. In fact, that would be the perfect excuse to exclude Trace. It’s Eli’s party, and I’m sorry, but you’re not invited.

  “It might hurt his feelings if I don’t,” Eli said, nervously flicking his pencil against the kitchen table.

  Callie was surprised. Her belligerent son concerned about someone else’s feelings? About his own father’s feelings? Callie let out a careful breath.

  “It’s your party, Eli,” she said. “What do you say?” Callie wasn’t sure what answer she wanted from Eli. Trace would probably be hurt—or at least feel piqued—if Eli excluded him, but it was the safe move.

  She was terrified that Trace would suddenly wake up and see all the ways Eli was like him. How Eli shoved the hair off his brow with the same thrust of his hand, or how father and son both rubbed their chins when they were thinking. Or how much Eli’s features resembled Trace’s. Except for his eyes. He has your eyes, Callie.

  “Aw. Let him come,” Eli said at last. “I guess one more won’t hurt.”

  Callie prayed he was right.

  By the time dawn arrived on the surprisingly warm, late October morning of Eli’s birthday, Callie was wishing she hadn’t given in to Lou Ann’s plea. She’d been up all night with a colicky horse, but with the Futurity little more than a month away, she didn’t dare neglect her workouts with Sugar Pep and Smart Little Doc.

  She tried to keep herself focused on what she was doing, but Smart Little Doc was smart enough to catch her dozing, and took advantage of her inattention to set her down in the sand.

  Callie looked up at the horse, who came over to nuzzle her and snort a horse laugh. “Very funny,” she said. “I hope you don’t plan to do that at the Futurity.”

  Smart Little Doc flicked his ears forward and back and whickered a reproof.

  “All right. It was my fault. I won’t let it happen again.”

  When Callie got back to the house, she discovered her mother had already taken Hannah and left to help Lou Ann decorate for the party. Once she was showered and had put on clean jeans, a white shirt with a string tie, and a leather vest, she knocked on Sam’s door.

  When he answered, she asked, “Can you give me a ride over to Lou Ann’s?”

  Sam grinned at her. “You trust my driving?”

  “No, but I’m desperate. The truck was acting up this morning.”

  “I’m ready when you are,” Sam said.

  Callie was amazed at how adept Sam was at managing the van. “You really are a good driver,” she said in amazement.

  “Don’t act so surprised. I drove plenty before I got hurt.”

  “I guess you did.”

  “Did Trace tell you he’s having ramps and bathroom rails installed in the foreman’s house, so I can live there?” Sam said, as he maneuvered the van into a narrow parking spot behind Dusty and Lou Ann’s house.

  “No. He didn’t say a word about that.”

  “I hope you don’t mind. I know there are still a few of Nolan’s things there. I’ll be glad to box them up for you.”

  Callie waited for the tears to come at the mention of Nolan’s name. But they didn’t. “I’d appreciate that,” she said to Sam.

  When they arrived. Dusty slid an arm around Callie’s waist and dragged her from the van. “You look very pretty today.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. “I see you’re walking on two legs—and without crutches.”

  “All a matter of balance, my dear,” he said, escorting her to the house.

  And who knew more about balance than a cutter, who had to keep himself centered on a two-thousand-pound whirling, wheeling dynamo? Callie thought.

  “I’m proud of you, Dusty,” Callie said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Lou Ann’s told me how hard you’ve worked to get back on your feet.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without Trace,” Dusty admitted. “I owe him a big debt.” Dusty grinned. “I can’t believe I let Trace talk me into working for Blackjack when he goes back to Australia.”

  “So he told you about that.”

  “Finally,” Dusty said. “Speaking of which, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

  “Like what?” Callie asked.

  “Like whether you’re going with him.”

  “No. I’m not.”

  “Too bad. Speak of the devil,” he said. “There he is.”

  Callie froze. Trace was sitting at Dusty’s picnic table with Eli, their heads bent close together. Callie felt a chill of alarm. What if Eli accidentally said something that revealed the truth? She hurried across the patio, anxious to separate her son and his father.

  Eli held up the woven wool horse blanket so Trace could admire the Western pattern.

  “Very nice,” Trace said. “What else did you get?”

  “Pokémon cards and a Star Wars light saber and an R. L. Stine novel—I’ve already read it, so I’m gonna have to go trade it for another one—and a Monopoly game and lots of other stuff.”

  “You made out like a bandit,” Trace said, smoothing down the boy’s cowlick.

  Eli grinned up at him. “I sure did.” Eli glanced at Trace and said, “I wish my dad were here. I really miss him.”

  “Yeah. That’s tough,” Trace said.

  “Every year on my birthday he’d tell me the story of how he drove like a bat out of hell and ran four stoplights to get my mom to the hospital, ’cause I came three whole weeks early.

  “I only weighed five pounds and twelve ounces,” Eli said. “And look at me now!” He held his arms out like Arnold Schwarzenegger and waited for Trace to feel his muscles.

  “Pretty strong, all right,” Trace said, dutifully testing each biceps.

  Mentally, Trace was doing the math, trying to figure out when Callie should have delivered. If today was October 22, that meant Callie shouldn’t have delivered until mid-November. Which meant Callie had conceived on or about … Valentine’s Day. On Valentine’s Day eleven years ago, he and Callie had left the dance at the UT Student Union and driven up into the hill country, where they’d found a spot in the cool grass along the banks of the Colorado and made love me rest of the night.

  And created a child together.

  Trace stared at the boy with new eyes, noticing the familiar cowlick in his black hair and his sharp nose and Blackthorne chin. Eli was tall, with big hands and big feet, like a puppy that still had growing to do. Like Trace had been at the same age. He was horrified to think Callie had kept such a secret from him.

  I have a son. Eli is my son.

  He’d missed so much! The pain was searing. Breathtaking. Why hadn’t Callie told him? She had to have known she was pregnant long before he’d gone away.

  “Eli! Lou Ann needs you in the kitchen to help her light your birthday candles.”

  Trace turned at the sound of Callie’s voice and stared at her, with all the fury he felt for what she’d done there in his eyes for her to see.

  “You want to come help me, Trace?” Eli offered.

  “No, son.” His throat ached as he said the word for the first time knowing he was addressing his own flesh and blood. “You go on ahead. I need to talk to your mother.”

  He saw the fear on Callie’s face but felt no compassion for her. “I’ve found out your secret, Callie.” He rose slowly and said, “Come with me.”

  “Trace, I can explain.”

  “Not now,” he said curtly. “Wait till we’re alone.”

  Trace kept his hand at the small of Callie’s back, forcing her ahead of him until they reached the shade of a live oak he thought was far enough from the party that he could raise his voice without being hear
d. Because he felt like howling.

  When they stopped, he waited until Callie turned to face him before he spoke. “Is Eli my son?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Shut up. I have a few things to say before you start making excuses.”

  When she stared at the ground, he grabbed her chin and forced her face up until their eyes met. “You’ll marry me as soon as I can get a license. Then, my son is going back to Australia with me. You can stay here and take care of your family, or come along for the ride. I don’t really give a damn.”

  He let her go and stepped back, because he had the urge to hit something, and he didn’t want it to be her. “How could you, Callie? How could you steal all those years from me?”

  “You ran away and never came back! What did you expect me to do? How was I supposed to find you? You never wrote to me. You never called me or contacted me. Nolan offered to legitimize your son. Should I have let Eli be born a bastard?”

  “He should have been a Blackthorne! You must have known long before I left Texas that you were carrying my child. You should have told me about him, Callie. You should have given me a chance to be a father to my son.”

  “If you’d really cared about me you would never have left in the first place!” she accused. “How do you think I felt? Alone and pregnant. And with your child! A Blackthorne child! I couldn’t tell anyone the truth.”

  “Not even me.”

  “You weren’t here!” Callie cried. “And you couldn’t have missed me much. I heard about all the women, Trace.”

  “What women?”

  “The women you took up with the minute I was gone.”

  “I was trying to make you jealous, Callie. I wanted you to care.”

  “If you wanted to hurt me, you did. More than you know.”

  “And you’ve had your revenge,” Trace said bitterly.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  He took a menacing step forward. “Sorry? Sorry can’t make up for what you took from me.”

  Callie held her ground. “What is it you want from me? Nothing can change the past.”

  “I’ve told you what I want. My son.”

  “You can’t have him.”

  “He’s mine, Callie.”

  “You’re a stranger. He hardly knows you.”