Heart of A Cowboy

“This is important.”

He dragged his focus to her chocolate-brown eyes, concern in their depths that tried to wheedle its way into his heart. “Is this about Nicholas?”

She blinked, her face going white. “Yes, how did you know?”

“Let me assure you I meant what I said on Saturday. He can still take riding lessons even if you don’t decide to join this group. I don’t go back on my word.” Realizing she still clasped his arm, he shook it free. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go.”

“But…”

He didn’t wait for her to say anything else. Quickening his step, he escaped outside and drew in deep breaths of the hot summer air. The light breeze cooled his cheeks.

Nicholas. The boy’s name flitted through his mind. She’d moved on without him, had another man’s son—loved another man. He’d tried to move on and for a short time had even become engaged to a girl after he’d been on the rodeo circuit a few years. After his bull riding accident, she’d left him. Audrey had wanted to have children, and he wouldn’t be able to give her any. No, he’d decided not feeling anything was so much better for him. He had his ranch and was doing what he loved to do, raising horses. That was his life now, and he wasn’t going to let Jordan’s return change his plans nor the memories of their good times together.

Jordan looked up from working on her laptop to see her sister come into the kitchen. “Have you been hiding from me?” She clasped the edge of the table.

Rachel poured herself some coffee and sank into the chair next to Jordan. “Granny told me I’d better come down or you were going to send out a search party.”

“Yeah, I have a beef with you. You sent me to Zachary’s ranch last Saturday and now I’m stuck taking Nicholas there tomorrow. What were you thinking?” She couldn’t keep her rising ire from resonating in her voice.

“That you two needed to work the past out.”

“Have I interfered with your life?” Rachel had never been able to resist meddling.

“Only because you’ve been in South Carolina until four weeks ago. In time you’ll be right in the middle like you were as a child.”

“Me? Telling you what you should do? You’ve always done that. Don’t. I can live my own life now.” The words exploded from Jordan’s mouth like compressed soda in a shaken bottle.

“I’ll always care about you. I can’t stop being your big sis.”

“Sister, not mother.”

Rachel’s gaze connected with Jordan’s. “I’m sorry.”

Her apology deflated Jordan’s annoyance. She couldn’t stay mad at her sister for long. Growing up, Rachel had protected her. She’d listened to her. She’d been there through the pain of her breakup. “I know,” she murmured, her tone a ragged stream.

Rachel took a sip from her mug. “Hmm. Your coffee is so much better than Mom’s.”

“How do you know I made that?” After Jordan closed down the program she was working on, she pushed her laptop to the side and lifted her mug to take a drink.

“Because you got Granny’s cooking genes. Mom didn’t. I didn’t.”

“Speaking of Granny, who is this Doug person?”

“A sweet man who is seventy and taken with our grandmother.”

“Seventy! She’s robbing the cradle.”

Rachel raised her forefinger to her lips. “Shh. Don’t let her hear you say that. She’ll probably outlast Doug by years.”

She wished she were as together as her sister or Granny. “Rachel, I need help. What am I gonna do?”

“Tell Zachary about Nicholas?”

“Do you know what that will do to me?” Jordan bit down on her thumbnail, then suddenly realized she’d reverted to a bad habit and said, “See what I’m doing just thinking about the havoc that will cause in my life. It took me years to break myself of biting my fingernails. Now I’m doing it again. Home less than a month.”

“Zachary has a right to know whether he wants to be in Nicholas’s life or not. It’s his choice. Not yours. I told you years ago that you needed to get in touch with him.”

“I know I need to do it. I just don’t know how. I can’t march up to him and say ‘Nicholas is your son.’”

Rachel winced. “No, you need to cushion the news a little.”

“Like you did when you told me Zachary owned the ranch?” The urge to chew on her fingernails inundated her. Jordan sat on her hands instead.

“Just do it. The longer you think about it the more upset you’re going to be. Quit analyzing the problem to death.”

“I can’t change who I am.”

“Oh, but you have. You used to take risks. Now you think everything to death.”

“Yeah, well, finding out you’re pregnant with a child whose father doesn’t want to have anything to do with you can go a long way to curing you of taking risks.”

Rising, Rachel finished her last swallow of coffee and strolled to the sink to set her mug in it. “I’m going back into hiding. Let me know when you tell him.”

“If I tell him,” Jordan couldn’t resist saying to her older sister’s back as she left the room.

Jordan slid into the pew at the Tallgrass Community Church between Nicholas and her sister.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Rachel whispered.

She smiled sweetly at her only sibling. “With the move I’ve been swamped, but I’m working to strengthen my faith. I’ll admit I let life interfere in South Carolina.”

“Did you tell him yesterday when you went to the ranch for Nicholas’s lesson?”

With a glance at her son, she bent toward Rachel and lowered her voice to the barest level. “No and don’t bring it up.”

At that moment the music began to play, signaling the service would begin in a few minutes. Jordan bowed her head and folded her hands together in her lap.

Lord, I’m here like I promised, but I’m still clueless what to do. Yesterday I couldn’t have gotten the words out to say anything to Zachary if my life depended on it. Where do I start? How do I do it? Please help me. Amen.

A commotion behind her drew her attention. First Becca then Ashley, Mike and Cal entered the pew. Next came Becca’s husband, Paul, with Zachary on the end, right behind Nicholas.

Her son twisted around and grinned at Zachary, waving his hand. “Howdy.”

Howdy? Her son had never said that word in his whole life. She groaned and kept her gaze focused straight ahead. But the hairs on her nape tingled.

“Mom, Zachary is behind us.”

Every nerve ending was acutely aware of that fact. “Shh, hon. Church is about to start.” Which thankfully it did with the choir marching in singing “Onward, Christian Soldiers.”