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He shook his head, taking his time before he turned to face them. When he did, he tried his best to keep his emotions in check. “You didn’t do a thing, Renata. I did.”
“Now, hold on a minute,” Deacon interrupted. “Normally I’d agree with you.”
“She should have told you,” Archer joined in. “She’s in the wrong. Plain and simple.”
Toben took heart in their support. And let his anger rise.
Deacon read the change in his posture and said, “But what you said yesterday was right—you’ve got to keep a cool head. If you’re wanting to get close to this boy, you can’t make an enemy out of his mother.”
Toben nodded. He knew this. But, damn, he was angry. Furious. At her. And himself.
“I hate to pry here but—”
“I’m her son’s father,” Toben said, answering Renata’s question before she could ask it. “Poppy White’s boy? He’s my son.” Pride welled within him.
Renata’s eyes went round. “Oh...well...” She blinked, the play of emotions on her face almost comical. “You...you didn’t know?”
“She didn’t tell him,” Deacon offered.
Renata slumped back against the counter.
“Wrong. Plain and simple,” Archer repeated, smacking his hat against his thigh. “Gotta get back to the refuge. Think before you act.” He nodded at Toben, grabbed two pastries and headed back to his truck.
“I don’t know what to say,” Renata said. “Does Tandy know?”
Toben shook his head. He hadn’t told his twin sister. He couldn’t. She’d be just as devastated as he was—but for her own reasons. Besides, he didn’t want everyone involved in his business. Having Archer, Deacon and Renata involved was three people too many in his book. “I’m trying to keep some kind of lid on it for now. Hard enough trying to figure things out on my own without getting the family involved.”
“Guess that means I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut?” she asked. “Did you tell Archer that?”
Toben shook his head. “Figured he wouldn’t say much, considering the topic.”
Renata nodded. “Probably right. If it’s not horses or Eden and the girls, he doesn’t have much to say.”
He glanced at the wall clock. “Daylight’s a-wasting.”
“If you’ve got something to do, I can get started without you,” Deacon offered.
His first instinct was to go. He didn’t know who Poppy had in her life or what role he played in Rowdy’s. But if the man had been around for a while, then Toben couldn’t let himself get all fired up about it—in front of Rowdy. “I’m not sure now’s the right time for a visit,” he admitted. “I don’t want to press my luck or do something stupid in the process.”
“I hate to agree with Archer, but...‘think before you act’ is pretty good advice.” Renata hugged him again. “And congratulations. You might not be ready for it yet, but the family’s going to welcome your boy with open arms.”
She was right. The Boones believed in family. And Rowdy was family.
He and Deacon headed out shortly afterward, intent on repairing one of the windmills. A tornado had skirted the ranch a couple of weeks back and the strong winds had damaged two of the blades, throwing off the spin and affecting the entire mechanism. With drought concerns on the rise, the windmill needed to be working so the livestock had plenty of water.
By the time the sun was high, they’d replaced the two blades. They ate a late lunch in the mill’s long shadow, barely a word said between them.
It took effort, but Toben kept all thoughts of Poppy at bay. Rowdy not so much. He wanted to do something with his son—but what? That was the question. How did he make up for six years in a couple of days? It would take time to earn the boy’s trust—he knew that. But patience had never been one of his strengths. If he had it his way, he and Rowdy would jump right into it—father and son. Something he figured Poppy wasn’t ready for.
He pushed aside her image, the lingering sound of her laughter as they’d sat on her porch enjoying pie. He loaded his toolbox into the back of the truck, frustrated all over again.
They headed to the vaccination shed next. Toben’s uncle Teddy, owner of the entire ranch, had plans to vaccinate the cattle next week. It was no small undertaking, something that required working chutes, sturdy pens and all hands on deck. Safety was a top priority on the ranch—for the animals and the employees. A faulty chute or damaged pen could cause disaster. Between him and Deacon, they tested every fence, chute and gate latch that afternoon.
“I’m calling it,” Deacon said, pouring water over the back of his head.
“Tired already?” Toben teased, smiling. They’d worked hard. Uncle Teddy would be happy.
“Damn straight,” Deacon answered. “And hungry. Those were some sad sandwiches you packed.”
Toben laughed. “I didn’t hear you complain when you were eating them.” He climbed in the truck as Deacon made the engine roar to life. He wiped his face with his bandanna and hung his arm out the window. He glanced at the dash. It was only six thirty-five. Not too late to stop by for a visit.
“You going over there?” Deacon asked.
“Thinking about it,” he murmured. All damn day. He’d had a welcome-enough reception the night before. But now that another man was in Poppy’s house, would that still be the case?
Chapter Five (#u3f1e65a3-416d-52a9-9ca9-34a25f345976)
A steady cloud of dust rose up behind the white truck pulling up her drive. It read Boone Ranch on the side—sending Poppy’s stomach into knots and Rowdy running down the steps to meet the truck.
“He call?” Mitchell asked.
She shot Mitchell a look. “No, he didn’t. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be polite and neighborly, Mitchell. Please.”
He scowled. “Neighborly, Poppy? Him driving in here like he owns the place just feels like having dirt kicked in my face.”
She shook her head, trying not to laugh at his over-the-top reaction. “No one’s kicking dirt in anyone’s face.”
Mitchell’s scowl didn’t ease, so Poppy nudged him in the side. “Lighten up. No matter what, you hold a special place in Rowdy’s heart. You know that.”
His expression softened then, his attention shifting to her son. She never doubted Mitchell loved her boy. Mitchell’s way with words and deep, resonant voice made him one of the most sought-after rodeo emcees—taking him out of the country a handful of times. But he always seemed to find time for them. In a way, Mitchell was Rowdy’s father. A sobering realization when Rowdy’s biological father was currently climbing out of the truck.
“You came!” Rowdy said. “I wanted you to meet Cheeto.”
“He’s here?” Toben asked.
“Mitchell brought him this morning. Man, was he glad to see me.”
Rowdy laughed, and it warmed her through. She wasn’t going to worry over why he was laughing. For now, she’d accept that Toben wanted to know their son. And be ready to ease Rowdy’s loss when Toben moved on. The Toben Boone she’d known had been a restless soul. He was always talking about the next town, the next rodeo, the next prize...the next woman. He’d had no interest in planting roots or making commitments.
Maybe it was her? Maybe committing to her, to their son, was the reason he’d turned his back on her—on them both.
It’s been seven years. People change.
But that sounded too good to be true.
“Evening,” Toben said, tipping his hat.
“Toben,” she said. “This is Mitchell Lee. Mitchell, Toben Boone. Well, you might know each other from the circuit?”
Toben’s eyes tightened a little, his blue gaze bouncing back and forth between the two of them before he held out his hand. “The emcee? I remember you,” Toben said, offering a tight smile.
“That’s me,” Mitchell agreed, his tone anything but welcoming. “I remember you, too.”
She wasn’t the only one who noticed. Everything about Toben stiffened. From his back to his jaw, he bristled. Poppy bit back her irritation. At least they shook hands, even if the tension between them was so thick it might just knock them both to the ground.
“Wanna meet him?” Rowdy asked, oblivious.
Toben and Mitchell were still sizing each other up, their mutual head-to-toe assessment almost comical. Almost.
“Sure he does,” Poppy said, desperate to end the silent standoff. “Right, Toben? You want to meet Rowdy’s horse?”
Toben’s attention immediately shifted to Rowdy, his posture relaxing and his smile—that damn smile—returning. “Yes, sir. How’d he make the trip?”
“He’s a good traveler,” Rowdy said, kicking a rock. “We were always going somewhere. But not now.” He smiled up at Toben. “We’re here to stay.”
Poppy felt that now-familiar unease settle in her stomach. They had been here to stay. Now she didn’t know what the hell to do. She wanted a place Rowdy could grow up strong and happy, with good friends who watched him grow, helped him become a good man. She’d thought that Stonewall Crossing would be all those things and more.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Toben said. “Did your mom tell you the Boones founded Stonewall Crossing?”
She heard Mitchell snort softly and stepped back, hard, on his toe with the heel of her boot. She didn’t need him complicating a situation that was already far beyond her normal level of complication.
If Toben heard him, and it would be pretty hard to miss, he gave no indication. For that, Poppy was thankful. And confused. Everything about this Toben was confusing and frustrating.
“Really?” Rowdy asked.
Toben nodded. “This place is part of your family. When you come riding at the Boone Ranch, you’ll get to meet a whole passel of aunts, uncles, great-uncles, cousins... You name it.”
Rowdy’s eyes were round. “You mean it’s not just Dot and Otis?” The relief in his voice made the three adults laugh.
“How many kids do you have?” Mitchell asked.
The hard look Toben leveled the man’s way made alarm bells go off. “One,” he answered, running a tentative hand over Rowdy’s riotous curls.
The look of awe on Toben’s face shook Poppy to the bone. The man Poppy had known wasn’t capable of real emotion. He was a player. Life had been a series of games, challenges and conquests. He’d never been careful with his words...or his choice of women. He’d have punched Mitchell by now, or insulted him.
Seeing him standing here looking at Rowdy like he was his whole world wasn’t something Poppy was prepared to handle. “Go on,” she encouraged. “Dinner will be ready soon.”
“Can he stay for dinner, Ma?” Rowdy asked. “Mitchell’s grilling since the stove keeps catching fire.”
“Not sure I got enough ribs, Rowdy.” Mitchell’s answer was quick.
Toben’s jaw locked, but his attention stayed on Rowdy. “Better not. I like ribs. Might not be enough for you. Or Dot and Otis. Where are Dot and Otis?”
“Video game,” she and Rowdy answered in unison.
Toben shook his head, staring out over the three hundred acres she’d just purchased for her family with an appreciative eye. Poppy nodded. She didn’t get it either. When she’d been their age, she was climbing trees, skipping rocks and riding any animal she could climb onto.
“Let’s go,” Rowdy said, grabbing Toben’s hand and pulling him toward the far pasture. Cheeto was there, waiting for Rowdy, his head resting on the fence line and his ears cocked forward.
Toben kept holding Rowdy’s hand. And her son noticed. His happiness was all she wanted. Maybe...maybe Toben could be a part of that.
“He hasn’t changed much.” Mitchell’s words snapped her out of it.
“What was that?” she asked. “I don’t need you getting territorial, Mitchell. I need you to be my friend. I can’t be worried about you and Toben throwing punches to establish the pecking order around here. I’m the one in charge, got it?”
Mitchell smiled down at her. He was tall, well over six feet. “I hear you, Pops. Don’t get all riled up. I’ll behave.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.
“I’ll try. I get that he has a right to know his son. You just promise me you won’t let him worm his way back into your heart, and I’ll leave it alone.”
Poppy stared at Mitchell, horrified. “He was never in my heart—”
“Pops,” Mitchell interrupted. “Come on, now. I was there, remember?”
She glared, then stomped past him and into the house. His heavy footsteps told her he was following. “I don’t know where you come up with this stuff. I wasn’t heartbroken over him. I was heartsick for my baby. There’s a huge difference.” She’d been lying so long there was no way she was going to change her story now.
“Pops.” His tone was soothing.
“Don’t Pops me. Get the grill started while I get this corn cooking. Hopefully, I won’t burn down the damn house.” She turned her back on him, refusing to let the concern in his gray eyes soften her anger.
“Fine, fine.” Mitchell chuckled. “Wish I could skip the preseason exhibition tour. I don’t like leaving y’all alone right now.”
She spun on her heel then, outraged. “Mitchell Lee, we do just fine on our own, thank you. I love it when you visit. Rowdy loves it, too. But don’t think, for one minute, that I can’t manage my life without you.”
Mitchell’s smile grew. “Or any man.”
“Or any man. I have no interest in raising two boys on my own,” she added, snapping.
“That’s all I needed to hear.” Mitchell’s smile was entirely too smug.
“See, I told you.” Dot was leaning against the doorway, watching them. “They do act like it.”
“Huh, guess so,” Otis added.
“Act like what?” Mitchell asked.
“You’re married,” Dot answered. “You argue just like our parents. And you’re always around.”
“You gonna marry her?” Otis asked.
Mitchell smiled at Poppy, teasing her and loving every minute of it. “I’ve tried, but she won’t have me.”
Poppy burst out laughing then. He didn’t want to marry a woman he thought of as his sister. “Okay, you two, since you’re here, how about some help setting the table?”
The both groaned, and complained, and argued, but they did it.
“Where’s Rowdy?” Dot asked.
