A Son for the Cowboy (The Boones of Texas 5)

Toben cleared his throat. “And my son.”

Ryder’s blue eyes went round and he sat back. “Well, now. When’s he due?”

“He’s six. I’ve got a lot of time to make up for...a lot to make up for. Question is, how?” He shook his head, the shame that had been sitting on his chest for three days making it hard to say a word. “What I did...” He shook his head again.

“Can’t get beyond it?” Ryder asked. “If you don’t let go, they can’t. All you can do is start now.”

Toben looked at his cousin. “Why the hell would they want me in their life?”

“You’ll have to figure that out. No more feeling sorry for yourself or talking yourself out of doing what needs to be done.” Ryder pointed at the house. “It’s work. Every day. But, damn, is it worth it.”

Toben stared at his hands, the black beneath his nails.

“You want this boy in your life?” Ryder asked.

“Yes.”

“His mother?” Ryder paused. “Seems to me you don’t have room for mistakes here, Toben. You need to be damn sure of what you want before you answer that one.”

Poppy White. He wanted her. She seemed to flip a switch he hadn’t known existed whenever she walked into the room. If he could turn it off, he should—but he couldn’t. More important, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He’d spent years trying to get Poppy White into his bed. In the process, he’d let her into his heart. Thinking about it now, he wasn’t sure he’d ever let her out.

But Ryder was right.

“Focus on your son. I can’t imagine not seeing those boys every day, letting them know I’m their daddy and I’m proud of them.” He stared into his empty glass, then smiled and reached for Toben’s. “They need lots of love when they’re little—to know it, feel it, believe it. Best way to do that is be there.”

Toben swallowed. Could he be there, face-to-face, without his shame killing him?

“She trying to keep you from him?” Ryder asked.

He shook his head.

“Then why the hell are you here?” Ryder asked, standing.

“I can’t...shake the hurt. I did this. I tore up the letters she wrote. I never returned a single damn phone call. She tried to tell me about our son, over and over, and I turned my back on her—on them. I have no right to be there,” he ground out.

“Maybe you don’t. But not being there tells that boy there are things that come before him.” Ryder put his hands on his hips.

“That’s not true.” Toben stood, his irritation mounting. He hadn’t come here to get an extra heap of guilt and feel worse.

“I know that. You know that. But your son—What’s his name?” Ryder asked.

“Rowdy.” He grinned.

Ryder’s smile was broad. “Rowdy needs to know that. He comes first now. Period. If you want to be a better man, that’s all you need to know and do.”

Toben sucked in a deep breath.

“Is this the rodeo gal?” Ryder asked. “The one Renata wants carrying the flag in the parade.”

Toben nodded. “Poppy White.”

Ryder nodded. “You were sweet on her, I remember.”

“Guess I still am,” he mumbled.

Ryder laughed. “Start with Rowdy. Something tells me winning over your son is going to be a hell of a lot easier than winning over the woman.”

Toben handed Ryder the wrench. “Thanks for the lemonade.”