Tomas: Cowboy Homecoming

“Go on up to the house and join the celebration,” Royce urged.

Feeling chilled, Tuf pulled the collar up on his coat, his eyes centering on the black horse, who was watching him as Tuf had watched the horse earlier. “What’s the story on the horse?”

Royce leaned on the fence. “That’s Midnight. Ain’t he a beauty? Your mom and Ace bought him at an auction when his owner died. The foreman mistreated him so he’s a little gun-shy, if you know what I mean. His lineage goes back to the great bucking horse Five Minutes to Midnight and they paid a pretty penny for him.”

“Yeah. He’s prime horseflesh.”

“Ace outbid ol’ Earl McKinley, and Earl wasn’t too happy.” Royce shook his head. “Midnight has caused a whole passel of problems. Went missing for a while and upset the whole family. Turned out thieves who were stealing tack left the gate open and Midnight sprinted for freedom. The horse turned up at Buddy Wright’s place. That gave everyone pause, but Buddy just patched up the horse’s wounds and kept him safe. Ol’ Buddy has changed a lot.”

Tuf digested that for a minute. It would be nice if the Hart and Wright families could exist in peace. Life was too short for petty grievances.

Royce watched the horse. “Very temperamental and hard to handle, but Ace and Colt are working wonders with him.”

“Is he for breeding or bucking?”

“Depends on who you ask. Ace wants to keep breeding him, but Colt’s entered him in a few rodeos. Midnight twisted his left knee in November, and the family is at odds on what to do with him now. Ace doesn’t want to risk getting him injured again. The family has a lot riding on that black horse.” Royce peered at him. “You do know the Harts are in the rodeo contracting business?”

“Mom mentioned that.”

“Things have changed since you’ve been gone.”

“Mmm.” He’d spent six years fighting in a war-torn country, sometimes sleeping on the ground and living off military-issue food not fit for a dog, but it kept him alive. It was always a celebration to get back to base for real food. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to live in the real world and to enjoy the freedom he’d been fighting for. His adjustment was yet to come.

Midnight reared up on his hind legs, pawing at the air, clearly upset at the stranger eyeing him.

“Calm down,” Royce said to the horse, and Midnight trotted back to the dun mare.

“Do you leave him out here all night?”

Royce slapped him on the back. “Man, you have been gone a long time if you’ve forgotten what Ace is like.” Royce pointed to the right of the barn. “See that opening? It goes into Midnight’s personal oversize stall. Once the mare goes inside, he’ll follow. She has a calming effect on him.”

“I noticed.”

“Midnight hates being penned up. He likes open spaces. When he injured his knee, we closed the doors and Midnight went crazy. Ace had to sedate him to keep him calm so he wouldn’t injure the leg further. That horse is either gonna make or break Thunder Ranch.” He held out his hand to Tuf. “Glad to have you home. Go join the celebration and make your mama happy. I’m feeding the pregnant mares, but I’ll be up for some grub as soon as I finish.”

Tuf nodded and breathed in the crisp air off Bull Mountains. Time to face the family, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Midnight, who continued to circle the pen.

“I’ve dreamed of riding a horse like you all my life,” he muttered under his breath.

Midnight flung his head and stomped his hoof again in protest as if he understood every word.

“Tomas. Tomas. Tomas!”

Only one person called him that. His mother. Damn! Royce had called. He turned around as his mother flew across the yard in a dress and heels. At the sight of her silver hair and smiling face, his heart thumped against his ribs. Oh, how he’d missed his mom.

How did he explain the past two years?

Chapter Two

“Tomas!” His mom grabbed him in a bear hug. He held on with arms that felt weak, but he was buffeted by a strength he couldn’t describe. Being over six feet, he leaned down so she could kiss his cheek. He’d started doing that when he was about fourteen.

Sarah stroked his face and then ran her hands over his shoulders, arms and chest, much like when he was younger and a horse would buck him into the dirt. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Mom.” The family stood behind her all dressed in their Sunday best. Some of the faces he didn’t recognize. The guys were in pressed jeans, pristine Western white shirts with bolo ties. The women were in dresses or suits. Before he could see anything else, his brothers, Aidan and Colton, nicknamed Ace and Colt, barreled into him with fierce hugs, and then twin cousins Beau and Duke and Uncle Josh. He’d missed this connection to family.

Someone grabbed his arm and jerked him around. His sister Dinah’s fiery hazel eyes flashed up at him. “Where have you been? You’ve had us all worried sick.”

“Hey, sis.” He reached for her and lifted her off her feet into a tight embrace.

“Be careful. She’s pregnant,” Sarah warned.

“Oh.” Tuf eased her to the ground.

Dinah laughed. “Get that look off your face. I’m respectably married.” She pulled a guy forward. “This is my husband, Austin. You remember him?”

Austin Wright. His sister had married Austin Wright, Cheyenne’s brother. How did that happen?

Before he could find an answer, his mother linked her arm through his. “Let’s go to the house. It’s cold out here. We have a lot to celebrate. My baby is home.”

Baby. Usually when she called him that, it would cause sparks of resentment to flash inside him. Thank God he had finally outgrown that reaction.

Dinah also linked her arm through his, and they made their way into the house through the spacious, homey kitchen to the great room. He barely had time to remove his hat. People milled around him. To the right was a long buffet table laden with prime rib and all the fixings. In a corner stood a ten-foot spruce fully decorated. The piney scent mixed with vanilla and cinnamon filled the room with a relaxing feeling of warmth enhanced by the fire in the river-rock fireplace. A large maple mantel showcased rodeo trophies from every member of the Hart family.

He was home.

But he felt as if he’d been dropped into enemy territory and he was waiting for the first round of fire. This time, he knew, he would be hit. There was no way of escaping the inevitable.

Ace approached him, carrying a baby in a pink blanket. “I want you to meet Emma, the first Hart grandchild.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Yep. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Tuf looked at the perfect baby face with swirls of blond hair. “Yes, she is. Does she have a mother?”

Ace frowned at him in that familiar way Tuf remembered well, especially when Tuf had done something to displease him, like wearing Ace’s best boots to a rodeo. “Of course—Flynn.”

“McKinley?”

Ace’s frown deepened to a point of aggravation until Flynn walked up. “Don’t look so surprised, Tuf,” the beautiful blonde said.

“How did you manage to lasso him?”

She leaned over and whispered, “It wasn’t easy, but I finally found the magic rope.” She winked and gently took her daughter from Ace. “She’s only three weeks old and all this celebrating is too much for her. I’ll put her in the bassinet in Sarah’s room.”

“Congratulations,” Tuf said to his brother.

“Thanks. Glad you’re home,” Ace replied, but Tuf felt he wanted to say a whole lot more. They both knew this wasn’t the time. Ace was the oldest, the responsible one and the head of the family, next to their mom. And Ace would hold Tuf accountable for two years of silence, two years of ignoring the family and two years of shirking his responsibility to said family. Accountability was coming but it would not be tonight.