An Honorable Texan

“You were fine at the restaurant. Let’s try to go back to that attitude if we can.”

“I’ll try.”

“Then I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Please don’t follow me.”

“I wasn’t following you! I just went into the hardware store for some damned plumber’s putty!”

“Okay, and while we’re at it, you might consider cutting down on your cussing. It’s not going to be cute when Peter starts talking and learning words we’d rather he didn’t use.”

Cal’s eyes narrowed. “Any more instructions?”

“No, I think that just about covers it. For now.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” It was a demand, but she let it go. He was angry, and jealous, although he wouldn’t admit it.

“Yes, tomorrow. I have a lot of things to consider. Believe me, most of all, I’ll think about what’s best for Peter.”

“What’s best is for a son to know his father and to live in a family with both parents.”

Not always. Especially not if the father was acting like an ass. “There are many ways for Peter to get to know you. Living at your ranch, married or not, is only one of the options.”

“It’s best for everyone.”

“No, I think you believe it’s best for you, but you have to ask yourself if you really want to live in the same house with a woman you don’t seem to like very much, much less be married to her.”

“I liked you just fine in Fort Worth!”

“I liked you that weekend, too. Right now, however, I’m not so sure.”

His eyes narrowed again. “I’m only trying to be responsible. We made that baby together.”

“Yes, but I carried him for nine months and went through fourteen hours of labor. Don’t tell me it’s the same.”

“I didn’t say it was equal, just that we’re in it together.”

“I’ll get back to you on that,” she said, before turning and walking into Toni’s office.

CAL RESISTED THE URGE to slam the door as he left Toni’s office. He looked up and realized he was just across the street from his attorney’s office. What better time to find out his legal rights?

“Oh, hello, Cal,” Caroline Brody said as she gathered her purse and closed her desk drawer. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Brody. Is James in?”

“He is. He has an appointment at three o’clock, though.”

“I just need a few minutes.”

“Hey, Cal,” James said, coming out of his office. “Come on in. Mom, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye now.” Caroline smiled and waved on her way out.

Cal let out a deep breath. “I need some information.”

“Okay. Have a seat,” James said, motioning to the chairs in his office.

Cal knew next to nothing about parental rights. And he’d better think about prenup agreements, too. He didn’t want Christie to think he was after her money, but most of all, he didn’t want her to have any rights to the Rocking C, in case their relationship didn’t work out.

His father and mother hadn’t made their marriage work, even with two children and a ranch to consider. Christie still had her place in Fort Worth, so who knew when she might take off with the baby. She didn’t have a good reason to stay. Not yet, anyway. Marriage would bind them together…at least long enough for him to get to know his son.

Seeing her talking to Leo Casale on the sidewalk in front of Toni’s office had caused something to snap inside him. She’d called it jealousy, but he didn’t think that was it. He was simply clear on what he wanted for the mother of his son. She shouldn’t be subject to the advances of some good-looking guy who was attracted to a classy blonde.

And what would happen if she left? Would he have any rights to the baby? The idea of not being a part of his son’s life gave Cal a hollow feeling inside that couldn’t be filled by anything—his ranch, friends, family or community.

“Tell me about what you need,” James said, snapping Cal back to the present. And his most pressing problem.

“I need to know if I have legal rights to my son.”

WHEN CAL ARRIVED at the ranch later in the afternoon, Troy and Raven were in the master bedroom, packing for their move to New Hampshire. Cal stood in the middle of the kitchen and looked at the boxes and bags around the perimeter of the room. Apparently, they’d collected a lot of things in the past year and a half. There were also going-away gifts of hand-labeled jars of jelly and fruit, crocheted scarves and fresh vegetables from friends and neighbors.

Troy had told him that Raven had driven to Texas in her aging Volvo wagon, Pickles, which had been filled with everything from goat cheese to organic flea shampoo for dogs. Apparently Troy had tried to resist her vegetarian lifestyle and antiranching views, but he hadn’t been able to help himself and had fallen in love with the Yankee farmer. Raven had been hired to restore a heritage garden, and Troy had been anticipating the arrival of an expert on traditional ranching that Cal had requested from the Cattleman’s Association. Somehow, through a merged database mix-up, Troy had gotten the vegetarian and the ranch expert had never shown up.

How his brother could even consider moving to New England was a complete mystery. Troy had obviously lost his mind when he’d fallen for Raven. Not that she wasn’t pretty and nice and smart. But really, what self-respecting Texan committed to living in New Hampshire? For all of Troy’s odd ideas about the Rocking C, ranching was in his blood. Four generations of Crawford men had raised cattle on this property.

Not chickens and bison and dairy cows. Almost all the Herefords were gone. Thankfully, Troy hadn’t sent all of the breeding stock to the auction or the feed lot. A few of the handful of cows left were descended from the original 1880s herd, which meant that Cal could resurrect the Crawford tradition. It might take him a while, but he would rebuild the Rocking C into a Hereford cattle ranch.

As soon as he solved the problem of his son.

“We’re just about packed. We’ll be on the road first thing in the morning,” Troy said, stepping into the room.

“Long drive,” Cal said, glancing around, wondering if all this stuff would fit in Troy’s SUV.

“We were thinking it would be good to go to Dewey’s for dinner. Are you up for that?”

“Sounds good.” He’d been there for lunch, but he could go again and get a nice juicy steak. Maybe relax with old friends and family without the distraction of Christie’s beautiful face or Peter’s drooling smiles. After all, his only brother—albeit the brother who’d played havoc with the ranch—was leaving town. “Is anyone else coming?”

“I’m not sure. Raven might have invited some of her friends.”

Was Christie a friend of Raven’s? She had mentioned talking to Troy’s fiancée, but surely they weren’t friends. He hoped not. He needed time to think. Besides, tonight should be about saying goodbye to his brother.

“There’s one more thing I wanted to ask you about,” Troy said.

Cal felt himself tense, then tried to relax. Not all questions meant trouble. How much more could a man deal with after being home from a war for just over a day? “What?”

“Raven and I thought about taking her dog, Riley—that is, the stray she found here—back to New Hampshire with us, but we talked it over and decided that he’d probably be happier right here on the Rocking C. How do you feel about keeping him? He’s a pretty decent cow dog, plus he’s good company.”

Cal shrugged. He didn’t usually keep a dog. They’d had border collies when he was a kid, but after they’d died, and his dad was gone, Cal had never gotten any more.

“Maybe. He seems okay.”