Heart of A Cowboy. Margaret Daley

Heart of A Cowboy - Margaret  Daley


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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.”

      Zachary rose as the rest of the congregation did to sing the opening hymn, but he could hardly concentrate on the words of the song. Not with Jordan standing within arm’s length of him. So close he could tug her into an embrace. That thought sent panic coursing through him. He should have expected her to show up at church with her family attending the same one as he did and prepared himself better—hardened his defenses against Jordan, who had always managed to get under his skin like a burr in a saddle blanket.

      After seeing Jordan with Nicholas yesterday at his ranch, he didn’t know if he could continue teaching her son how to ride. The boy reminded him of Jordan. He liked him a lot—probably too much.

      When he looked at Nicholas, all he could think about was the child he never would have. The boy should have been his with Jordan. That had been his plan all those years ago. They would marry. He would make his living on the rodeo circuit until he had enough money for a ranch. Then they could start a family. He had his ranch thanks to a fruitful career on the rodeo circuit for five years. But now he couldn’t have any kids—not since the accident in the National Finals in bull riding. It had left him lame and unable to father the children he’d always wanted.

      He sat again after the song, his hands clenched at his sides. There were a few days imprinted in his mind forever—when he first met Jordan, when they broke up and when he’d nearly died in the ring, riding a two-thousand-pound bull.

      The longer he stayed in the pew behind Jordan the tenser he became. When the service ended an hour later, his muscles ached like they did when he was trying to rein in an untrained horse.

      Nicholas turned toward him. “I didn’t know you go to this church. That’s neat. I had a great time yesterday.”

      “I’m glad. Before long you’re gonna be riding rings around the others.” There was no way he couldn’t teach the boy how to ride. He had to find a way to stay away from Jordan and still help Nicholas. But he was beginning to think that would be impossible.

      Nicholas beamed. “I want to be the best.”

      Jordan angled toward her son. “The best what?”

      “Rider. I hope to participate in barrel racing at the HHH Junior Rodeo.”

      Jordan’s eyes grew round. “You do?” Then her mouth firmed into a thin line.

      “Yes. If I’m good, Mom, then you won’t worry about me.”

      “Hey, Nicholas, want to join us?” Randy called from the aisle.

      “Okay, Mom?”

      “Fine. We’ll be in the rec hall,” Jordan said while the rest of her family filed out the other end of the pew.

      Leaving Zachary practically alone with Jordan. Even his own family had abandoned him. He faced her, the muscles in his neck tightening even more than before until he didn’t know if he could speak, which reminded him of the time years ago when they had first talked. He’d been sweaty, tired and tongue-tied, but he’d needed to make sure she was okay after her fall while cheerleading at the game.

      “All the way home yesterday Nicholas couldn’t stop talking about his lesson. I wish I had stayed to watch it. I had an errand to run, but I’ll stay next week.”

      “Don’t,” slipped out of his mouth before he could stop the word.

      Her forehead creased. “What do you mean?”

      “I


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