They are grown men now and deal in different ways with the pain of losing their father. One day I pray my boys will be able to put this behind them and live healthy, normal lives with women who will love them the way I loved their father.
Chapter One
Paxton: the fifth son—the ladies’ man
The cowboy’s redemption.
Mother Nature spit out a nasty spray of morning mist along the beach in Port Aransas, Texas. The cool lick of water against Paxton Rebel’s cheeks felt like the touch of a Popsicle. He huddled deeper in his National Finals Rodeo jacket and kept walking.
His cowboy boots made imprints in the wet sand, but the incoming tide would soon wash them away. Nothing in life stayed the same. And today the winds of change blew through his mind with a warning: if you don’t change your ways, it will be the death of you. His head throbbed, his body ached and exhaustion pulled at him as if he was a man twice his age. He was too young to feel this old and worn-out.
But then December had been a month of partying and drinking and celebrating. He and his brother Phoenix had competed in the National Finals Rodeo in Vegas the first ten days in December. Phoenix had won the title in bull riding and Paxton had come in second. Losing to his brother wasn’t a big deal because Phoenix deserved it.
Phoenix had become a father and married the love of his life in Vegas. He was at the beginning of something new. Although he was happy for his brother, he was feeling adrift without his partner. A part of him would miss working together on the rodeo circuit.
He and his brother Elias had continued to party in Vegas and had flown home later with gigantic headaches. They’d helped Phoenix clear some land to build a new home for his family and then there was Christmas with the whole Rebel clan. Paxton and Elias, the remaining bachelors in the family, had partied the New Year in. Waking up in his truck at Rowdy’s Beer Joint, having no idea how the night had ended, was the last straw for Paxton. He knew change had to happen for him.
He’d taken a couple days off from work on the ranch to clear his head and decide his future. Even though it wouldn’t be the same without Phoenix, he planned to ride the circuit another year.
The cold north wind tugged at him and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. In early January, Port Aransas was almost deserted, but peace and quiet was what he needed to help him make decisions that would affect the rest of his life.
Port Aransas had happy memories. That was why he’d chosen the place to think. When he was a kid, his brothers and parents used to come here for a vacation. Today the scenery was much different with hotels, motels and restaurants that hadn’t been there years ago.
He and his brothers used to race down the beach. Phoenix was barely three, but he always tried to keep up. “Paxton, watch out for Phoenix!” his mother would shout after them. And it seemed like he’d been doing that most of his life. But in reality Phoenix had been looking out for Paxton, pulling him out of bars when things got heated, making sure he stayed off beer on rodeo days and steering him away from girls who could ruin his career. He and Phoenix had always been a team but...
The temperature had been in the sixties earlier, but now the mercury was dropping as a cold front made its way across the Gulf Coast. His cell buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. Heather? Who was Heather? He read the text: I’m in Killeen. Wanna hook up? He couldn’t remember any Heather. It probably was a girl he had met over the holidays.
He groaned inwardly, not liking that he couldn’t remember. Girls were another problem. They called him “The Heartthrob” on the rodeo circuit. He hated the nickname, but it had stuck. Even the announcers called him that. And he’d gotten into more than one fight when his friends had ragged him about it.
Girls were easy for him, though. They hung around after rodeos and invited him out. They were persistent, but now he planned to be more selective. He would have to cross that line from a wild teenager into adulthood. It was past time. He’d left his twenties behind and now he had to grow up. It might be the hardest thing he ever had to do.
His cell buzzed again and he looked at the caller ID. Lisa. That name he knew. His ex-fiancée. She’d been calling ever since Vegas but he hadn’t picked up. For a brief moment in time he’d thought he was in love with her. He soon had learned she wasn’t the woman for him, so he couldn’t understand why she was calling him now. And he wasn’t interested in finding out why.
He’d ended his long-time relationship with his high school sweetheart because of Lisa. It was such a messy time with so many hurt feelings. But ultimately, breaking up with Jenny had been a good decision because he’d realized he wasn’t really in love with her. They were just good friends. She’d married his brother Quincy and the two of them were happy and expecting their first child in March. Paxton felt no jealousy or animosity toward them. He had to find his own way now. And it wasn’t in partying or flashy women.
Five of his brothers were married and happy. That left him and Elias searching for something they might never find.
The waves lapped at the sandy shore near his boots and gray clouds hung low on the horizon. It was time to head home. Two days on the coast in winter was enough. He stopped short when he noticed a woman in a hooded blue jogging suit struggling to get to her feet. A yellow Lab stood beside her, as if trying to help. She continued to push in the sand with her right foot and hand to no avail. He rushed forward.
She saw him approach and sank back on the damp sand. “I’m fine,” she said in a raspy voice, a sign she was out of breath.
“You—”
“I’m fine. Really.” This time her voice had a note of anger, and he stepped away, knowing he was invading her privacy and it was upsetting her. Against everything he’d been taught as a kid by his parents, he walked on. Even though he knew the woman needed help, he wasn’t going to push it. But then some things you just don’t outgrow. He looked back and she was continuing to try to stand, holding on to the Lab as if to give her a boost.
He hurried back and held out his arm, almost in her face, and stared at her, just daring her to resist. To his amazement, she didn’t. She grabbed his forearm and pulled herself up. No thank-you. No nothing. She didn’t even look at him.
In the brief moment she had glanced at him earlier he’d noticed her eyes—sea green, the color of the water behind him. Warm. Inviting. Tempting. And angry. Light brown hair peeked out from the hood of her jacket and her skin was pale. Very pale, as if she’d been ill. What was she doing on the beach alone in January? She had that fragile look about her and the jogging suit hung on her thin body.
She turned, the dog at her side, her hand on its collar, and slowly made her way to the hotel behind him. Paxton shook his head. He’d never had an encounter with a woman quite like that. But it was none of his business. He just hoped that there was someone waiting for her in the hotel.
His hand unconsciously went to the spot on his arm where she’d touched him. Even through his jacket and a shirt he could still feel it. She was trembling and trying to hide it as best as she could. What stood out even more was the fact she was scared to death.
* * *
REMI ROBERTS SLOWLY made it to her room and eased onto the bed. Tears trickled from her eyes and she fought hard to control her emotions. Sadie, her dog, jumped up beside her and she wrapped her arms around the warm and solid dog to steady herself. How could she have been so stupid?
Her mother and stepfather had said she didn’t need to go anywhere alone, but had she listened? Of course not. She wanted to be independent again and she wanted to prove that to her family.
She had spent so much time in therapy. She knew she was better and each day she’d grown stronger. Just not strong enough to get up from the ground. She’d adventured outside early to watch the sunrise and then had decided to just sit and watch the morning as it opened like a curtain on a play. What would this day h
old? She hadn’t considered how long she’d been sitting on the ground. She’d had so much confidence she could get to her feet. But she hadn’t been able to. She’d tried and tried and still her stubborn left leg would not work. The accident would always be with her and she was fighting every day to get back some of her life.
As she’d struggled to stand, she’d prayed a prince charming would rescue her. Then she’d looked up and seen him. Her heart had jackknifed into her throat. He had to be the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. A lethal grin had tugged at the corners of his perfectly shaped mouth. Beneath the cowboy hat, she’d glimpsed dark hair. His eyes were a rich caramel brown that held a sleepy-eyed allure. His face had to have been chiseled by the hand of God and stroked by the wings of angels. It was perfect. Masculine. Sexy. And sparked a raw earthiness that stirred an awakening in her lower belly.
He was a cowboy.
A lot of girls liked cowboys.
She hadn’t been one of them. And today she wondered why.
She didn’t know what had made her so stiff and unfriendly, but accepting his help meant she wasn’t better. She still needed more therapy, more support from her family. Her life was on hold. And that meant she would lose Annie.
She couldn’t lose Annie.
* * *
ON THURSDAY MORNING Paxton sat with his brothers in the Rebel Ranch office discussing the day’s work. Falcon, his oldest brother, and their mom sat at their desks and the others gathered around, waiting for orders for the day. Even Grandpa was there.
“Leah and John have doctors’ appointments in Houston today and I’ve taken the day off,” Falcon said. Leah, Falcon’s wife, had had a brain tumor when John was born. He was a preemie but no one would guess that today by the rowdy little boy he was. “Justin is sick so Egan is at home taking care of him because Rachel went back to teaching. Phoenix is working on his house. And Jude is helping Phoenix.”
“Quincy is out for the day, too,” his mother said. “Jenny has been put on bed rest and he wants to make sure she’s following rules.”
“Guess who that leaves to handle the feeding.” Elias straightened his hat with a strong hand. “Let’s go, Jericho.” Elias glanced at Paxton. “Are you working?”
His mother raised her head. “I have something else for Paxton this morning, but he’ll join you later.”
“Sure.” Elias slapped Paxton on the shoulder.
Grandpa got to his feet. “I’ll help you boys. I can still ride a horse.”
“We’re feeding cows, Grandpa,” Elias said.
“You don’t think I’ve ever fed cows?”
They were arguing as they went out the door. Falcon followed and that left him and his mother. He knew what was coming. Something in the house needed fixing. He was good at plumbing, wiring, all kinds of contracting work. And he hated it. But sometimes he did what he had to.
He leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped between his legs. “So what do you need?”
His mother waved a hand. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. You know Miss Bertie Snipes?”
“Everybody knows Miss Bertie and steers clear of her. She’s loony as a bat.”
“Now, son, I raised you not to be judgmental or critical. Her son was killed in the marines, her only son, and it changed her. Yes, she’s a little different, and she needs our help.”
That rolled around in his head for a minute, and if it sounded like he thought it did, he was ready to run. “What are you talking about?”
“Quincy usually helps her with her cows since Edgar died, but he’s busy this morning and I thought you would be nice enough to haul her calves to the auction barn in Cameron. If you take the shortcut, it shouldn’t take you long.”
Paxton jumped to his feet. “Oh, no, no!”
His mother took off her glasses and laid them on the desk alongside a picture of his dad and her when they’d first gotten married. His eyes rested on the photo and he couldn’t seem to look away from all the love and the pain that was echoed there and in his heart.
“I don’t want to force you to do anything. So if that’s the way you feel, I’ll haul the calves.”
His mother was a master at playing the guilt card and it was working, like always, making him feel guilty, selfish and self-centered. A bell, like a church bell, sounded in his head. He wanted to change his life and this was where he started. By helping others. But why did it have to be a crazy old lady?
* * *
THIRTY MINUTES LATER he crossed the main highway from Rebel Road to County Road 461. Miss Bertie lived in a small white frame house with black shutters and a chain-link fence. The property was neat and clean and shaded with big oak trees. An Australian blue healer raced around the chain-link fence at the rattle of the cow trailer.
Paxton drove to the back and saw the corral was to the left. A 1990 Chevy truck was parked near the barn and a small SUV was in front of the house. He knew the SUV wasn’t Miss Bertie’s so she must have company. That was good. He could get this over with quickly.
Calves milled around in the corral. That was another good thing. Loading would be easy. He backed up to the wood chute and got out. Miss Bertie hurried from the house with the dog at her heels. A floppy straw hat crowned her head, and she wore a big flannel shirt and baggy jeans stuffed into work boots. In her hand was a shotgun—an old double-barrel. That gave him pause.
“Who are you coming onto my property?” She fired the words at him like bullets.
Guess his mother didn’t call her.
He tipped his hat, refusing to be intimidated by the fire in her eyes. And the shotgun. “I’m Paxton Rebel. My mother sent me over to haul your calves to the auction.”
“My, my.” She placed the butt of the gun on the ground and leaned on the barrel, peering at him a little closer through thick glasses. “You’re one of the younger ones, the bull rider who spends most of his life on the road.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now aren’t you a handsome devil?”
“I’ve never thought about it.”
“Sure.” She slapped a hand on her jean-clad thigh. “It’s kind of hard to think with girls trailing behind you.” She glanced toward the corral and her demeanor changed instantly. “We don’t have time for small talk. Time to get these calves loaded.” She inspected the trailer backed up to the loading chute. “You did that perfectly. Can tell you’re a cowboy.”
Paxton noticed the platform from the corral to the trailer was missing and there was no way for the calves to get into the trailer, except if they knew how to fly. “Ma’am, the ramp is missing from the corral.”
She grunted. “It fell apart years ago. There’s always a way. Haven’t you learned that by now?” She opened the gate and walked into the pen, hollering and shouting until the calves scurried into the chute. They stopped at the trailer.
The dog barked.
“Shut up, Memphis,” she scolded.
Memphis.
Paxton jumped over the fence. It was wobbly. The whole corral looked as if it was going to fall down at any minute. “This is what I was telling you. If—”
She raised the shotgun and fired into the air. Stunned for a second, he was speechless, and then he grabbed it from her hand before she could fire it again.
Yanking the gun from his hand, she said, “Don’t ever take my gun.”
He swallowed hard at the rough words, but he didn’t falter.
“See.” She pointed to the calves that were jumping into the trailer, scared for their lives. “That’s how you get ’em inside. Pull your truck up and I’ll close the gate.”
“Crazy old woman,” Paxton muttered to himself as he jumped over the fence and then pulled his truck forward. Before he could reach the back of the trailer, Miss Bertie had it already closed. But he double-checked it.
&nbs
p; “I’ll be on my way,” he said more to himself than to her.
“Now wait just a minute.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her shirt pocket. “There’s four black with white faces, five red with white faces and two scrubby-looking things. That’s eleven.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Did she think he would try to cheat her?
“Gotta watch those people at the auction barn. They’ll cheat you if they can. Keep your eyes open.”
Holy crap. “Yes, ma’am.”
She pulled some money out of her pocket and handed it to him. It was a five-dollar bill. “Take this for gas.”
Was she freaking kidding? Five dollars for a diesel truck wouldn’t get them out of the driveway. But he knew better than not to take it.
“I’ll be on my way.”
She glanced toward the house and then back at him. “Just a minute. I need a favor. A big favor.”
Oh, no. But what did he say?
“I don’t have much time, Miss Bertie. I have to get back to the ranch to work.”
“Ah, don’t give me that.” She grunted again. “It’ll only take a few minutes.”
“Well...” He felt like a fish on a hook and he knew he wasn’t getting out of here without doing what she wanted. He just had a feeling it was going to be something he didn’t want to do.
“When you bring my sales receipt back, I’ll invite you into the house and I want you to meet my granddaughter.”
Oh, crap. She was playing matchmaker. The one thing he hated most in the world.
“She’s been feeling a little down lately and a nice-looking man like you could cheer her up real fast.”
“Miss Bertie...”
But the old woman wasn’t listening. “I’ll introduce you and you can say something like what a beautiful granddaughter I have. That’s it. Just a compliment to cheer her up. You can do that, can’t you, Handsome?”
“I’d rather not.” He figured honesty was the best place to start.
The butt of the shotgun rested on the ground. She lifted it into her hand. “I’d rather that you did. Do you know what I mean?”
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