Kayla's Cowboy. Callie Endicott
make-out spot for kids and he’d seen his share of action under the trees at the far end. As a matter of fact, he and Kayla had spent a couple of evenings there, enjoying each other in the front seat of his old truck. But he didn’t fool himself that nostalgia had made her pick the place for their talk; she’d simply hoped that no one would be around to overhear them.
“What do you think Alex will decide about seeing me?” Jackson asked finally.
“I’m not sure. I brought it up with him last night, but this morning all he would talk about is getting back to Seattle for a sci-fi convention, an upcoming Mariners game with the Yankees and whether we could go camping at Yellowstone this year.”
Jackson tiredly rubbed the back of his neck. Science fiction conventions and Mariners baseball games? It was a reminder that his son had grown up in a different world than a Montana ranch. Alex was a city kid, and the enormity of what Jackson had missed struck him again. What would they have in common?
“Safeco Field? So Alex plays baseball,” he murmured.
“Because he goes to major league games?” Kayla shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint the tough rancher, but he’s never played sports that much. Both Alex and DeeDee are Mariners fans.”
“DeeDee?” Jackson asked, alarmed that Alex might have a twin sister. He loved Morgan more than anything, but dealing with her was going to shorten his life by twenty years.
“DeeDee is my daughter with Curtis. She’s nearly ten and does play sports.”
“I see.” He stopped and tried to clear his brain. “There’s something I don’t understand—why didn’t your family insist on a paternity test when Alex was born and ask for a financial settlement?”
“Because my mother didn’t know you were the father, and my grandparents only learned about it yesterday. I didn’t even tell Mom that I was pregnant until we were a long way from Schuyler—I was afraid she’d remember we had dated and empty a shotgun into your crotch. She can be hotheaded after a few drinks.”
The imagery was painfully vivid.
“Uh, well, thanks. I think.”
Kayla smiled grimly. “It wasn’t to protect you—I just didn’t want Mom going to prison for castrating an underage cowboy.”
Jackson winced inwardly. “About Alex. I can’t believe he won’t want to meet his own father. I mean, don’t you think he wants a strong male role model?”
Kayla’s eyes opened wide. “A strong male role model? What, because Curtis is an accountant? I suppose you don’t think that’s manly enough.”
“I’m just trying to think what Alex wants.”
“What he wants is to process everything after his world getting upside down. As for myself, I’d prefer knowing more about you before allowing you any time with him.”
“What does that mean?”
Kayla made an impatient sound. “It means I want to protect my son. Good heavens, Jackson, I haven’t seen you in sixteen years. I barely knew you back then, and I definitely don’t know what kind of man you are now. From what I’ve seen so far, you’ve got a macho thing going that raises questions about whether you’d be a healthy influence on a sensitive kid.”
“I’m not macho, I’m his father.”
“Only through biology. It takes more than DNA to truly make you a parent.”
A headache began throbbing in Jackson’s temples. “I agree, but I want to rectify that as soon as possible. As for knowing more about me, surely your grandparents have told you the pertinent details.”
“Some of them, but I want to hear what you have to say.”
Jackson rolled his shoulders and a trickle of perspiration traveled down his back. In the past half hour his own world had been turned upside down, and a sane man... No, scratch that, he hadn’t felt completely sane since Morgan had started acting out. And with another teenager entering his life, he might be headed for a straitjacket.
“All right,” he said. “I don’t know what you think is important, but obviously I’m a rancher. We raise both cattle and horses and have a respected breeding program. My great-uncle Mitch deeded the Crazy Horse to me a while back, though I’ve been working there since I graduated high school. I’m well able to provide support payments.”
“I don’t want or need money from you.”
“Kayla—”
“Drop it,” Kayla interrupted sharply. “I remember you used to talk about ranching, though your folks wanted you to attend college first. What else?”
“Marcy and I got divorced eight years ago, which I’m sure you’ve also heard, and I doubt I’ll ever jump into marital waters again...too many sharks.”
“I understand.” Kayla’s voice was neutral, but since they were both divorced, he wondered if she felt the same way about marriage. “I know you have custody of your daughter and that her name is Morgan. How old is she?”
“Er...fifteen last November.”
Kayla’s eyes widened. “Good lord, Jackson, that means Marcy was already pregnant when we started dating, yet this morning you were still sure you couldn’t be Alex’s father?”
“That’s because I didn’t use protection with Marcy the last time we were together,” he replied stiffly. “She claimed it was safe since it was right after her period. I decided to be more careful when I starting dating other girls.”
“Peachy.”
A long time ago Jackson had made an uneasy peace with the fact that he had been a normal teenage boy with raging hormones. Well, perhaps more normal than some. But how many teenage boys got two girls pregnant in less than two months? While it probably wasn’t a record, it also wasn’t something to be proud about.
“I don’t know what else to say about myself,” he said. “I’m not a criminal. I work hard, pay my bills and respect my parents. What now?”
“For one, we both need to sit down with our kids.” Kayla’s right eyebrow lifted. “You were planning to tell Morgan about her brother, weren’t you?”
“Of course.”
Tension went through Jackson at the possibility Morgan could have found out already. If folks in town had seen Alex and realized he was Kayla’s son, they might easily have put two and two together already. Schuyler loved to gossip, and while he’d taken away Morgan’s smartphone and cut off her internet access, her friends had switched to calling the house phone.
“Okay, I’ll go home to tell Morgan while you go talk to Alex,” he suggested.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be having a number of discussions with my son. Good luck explaining yourself to your daughter. I’ll let you know when, and if, Alex wants to meet.”
Jackson watched Kayla’s trim form slip behind the wheel of her car and drive out of the park. Then he climbed into his Chevy and drove toward the Crazy Horse, his gut knotting tighter than before.
How was he going to tell Morgan that she had a heretofore-unknown brother, just a few weeks younger than her? It was hardly the sort of thing a man wanted to admit to his daughter, especially one who’d done little more than snarl at him for months.
* * *
MORGAN WOKE UP, groaning at the sharp knock on her bedroom door. She’d stayed up until 4:00 a.m. playing video games. It was summer—she didn’t have to do anything except her chores. And thanks to her dad, she couldn’t do a lot of what she wanted, though she couldn’t figure out why he cared enough to punish her.
Why was he being such a hard-ass? Hell, the sooner she was out of this house, the better.
The knocking continued.