Her Secret Cowboy

Marsha had been a good daughter through the years but having a child out of wedlock had hurt and embarrassed the pastor in front of his parishioners and members of the community. Nonetheless, he was a loving man and had forgiven her and embraced his grandson—for that she’d always be grateful.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” The words sounded inadequate, but what else could she say?

“Why did you keep us in the dark about William Cash?”

This was tricky. Her father would bend over backward to help a person in need and his actions always demonstrated his faith. However, years ago she’d learned that the man she’d believed walked on water was human and possessed prejudices like everyone else. “I didn’t tell you, because I knew you disliked the Cash family.”

He stopped walking. “I’ve never said—”

“You called them heathens the night I told you I was going to the prom with Will.” Marsha had gotten a glimpse of her father’s humanness that evening. He’d spouted a fiery speech, insisting she was too good for the likes of a Cash boy. She’d never heard him talk that way before but that night he hadn’t been a pastor—he’d been a father, trying to protect his only child and he’d let nothing stand in his way. Not even God.

They cut across the parking lot to the reflection garden behind the church and sat in the shade on a stone bench.

“Did he refuse to marry you?” her father asked.

“I hardly knew Will.” But she would have married him in a heartbeat if he’d proposed to her.

“You told him about the baby?”

She wouldn’t lie to her father to protect Will. “Yes, I told him.”

“Doesn’t surprise me that he wanted nothing to do with Ryan.” He scuffed the toe of his shoe against the gravel. “Has Ryan been asking questions about his father?”

“No.”

“That’s odd. You asked all kinds of questions about your parents before you were in kindergarten.”

She’d asked questions because her parents had been open with her about her adoption. “I told Ryan years ago that if he was curious about his father, I’d be more than happy to talk about him.”

“Why do you think he hasn’t asked about William?”

“Because you’re like a father to him. You’ve always been there for Ryan. Given him advice, guidance and love. Honestly, I don’t believe Ryan feels as if he’s missing out on anything by not having a father.”

“I won’t always be here for my grandson.”

She squeezed his hand. They hadn’t talked about his cancer since she’d arrived for the summer and she wasn’t ready to now. “Give Will a chance, Dad. Please.”

“I’ll think about it.” He retreated to the far side of the garden where he bowed his head in front of the statue of Mary. Marsha left him in peace as the doubts in her head went to war with the hope in her heart.

Chapter Four

“What happened?”

Will stopped on his way to the bunkhouse when Conway crossed his path.

“Porter and I came in fourth.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Conway said.

“I’m not in the mood to talk.” Will continued walking and his brother fell into step beside him.

“Things didn’t go well?”

Will didn’t have a chance to answer before the farmhouse door opened and his nephews raced outside.

“Uncle Will! Uncle Will!”

Oh, hell. He could easily ignore his brother but not the twins. He waited for the boys and Bandit to catch up. When the trio skidded to a stop, the dog slammed into the boys’ legs, almost knocking them to the ground.

“Did you and Uncle Porter win a buckle?” Miguel asked.

“No, but we came close.”

“Dad, can we go with Uncle Will to his next rodeo?” Javier spoke.

“If your uncle says it’s okay.”

A sliver of jealousy worked its way beneath Will’s skin when he considered how fortunate Conway was that the twins idolized him. At least his nephews believed their uncle Will led an exciting life, because he went to rodeos and built things—unlike his son who’d rather stick his head in a book and read all day than watch his father rope a steer.

Will silently cursed himself for the uncharitable thought. A thirty-minute talk with Ryan had hardly made a dent in getting to know the young man. He ruffled the boys’ hair and pointed to the dog. “Looks like Bandit wants to play catch.”

The Lab understood the word catch and raced across the lawn, snatching the tennis ball from the ground in front of the porch. As soon as the boys ran after their four-legged pal, Conway spoke. “What happened with Ryan today?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Will went inside the bunkhouse where he hung his cowboy hat on the hook above his bed, then sat on the mattress and stared into space.

“You want me to call Johnny?” Conway hovered in the doorway.

Will was only a year younger than the eldest Cash brother but his siblings had elected Johnny head of the family after Grandpa Ely had died. “Johnny can’t fix this.” If his brother could, he wouldn’t have hesitated seeking his advice. The problem was that no matter what Will did or said, he’d fall short in Ryan’s eyes.

“When do the rest of us get to meet Ryan?” Conway asked.

“I don’t know.” He glared until his brother got the message and closed the door on his way out.

Will didn’t give a crap that he’d been rude. He felt like a bear with a thorn in his paw and he wasn’t fit for company. He stared at the ceiling. What was he supposed to do next? Was the ball in his court? Ryan’s? Or was Marsha calling the shots?

Marsha.

Man, had she changed—and all in good ways. This afternoon she’d worn a pair of slim-fitting jeans and boots. The pink western shirt with black trim accentuated her breasts and had drawn the eye of more than a few cowboys. She hardly looked old enough to be the mother of a teenager.

An image of her walking down the hall in high school, head bent over the stack of books in her arms, popped into his mind. Today, she’d stood before him confident she could handle any obstacle in her way. He sure in heck could have used some of her self-assurance when he’d been introduced to his son.

Why Marsha? Why had he gotten the daughter of a church pastor pregnant? Their date to the prom had only happened because Buck had suggested he take Marsha after Will’s first choice, Linda Snyder—the cheerleader he’d had a crush on—turned him down flat, claiming she’d have to be desperate before she’d be seen with a Cash boy. Will had taken Marsha to show Linda that if a Cash boy was good enough for a pastor’s daughter...

The joke had been on him. In the end, the pastor’s daughter hadn’t believed Will good enough, otherwise she’d have told him she’d kept his baby instead of waiting until circumstances beyond her control had forced her to tell the truth.

The bunkhouse door opened and Will braced himself for an interrogation. “I told you to get lost, Conway.”

“I’m not Conway.”