The Cowboy's Texas Sky (The Dixons of Legacy Ranch 2)

“What are you saying, Travis?” Skylar’s voice was at a near panic now.

He flipped over the photo of Boss and the woman. It was dated October 2001. The last stint of R&R he and Boss had had before commencing AIT and then deployment. It must have been when Brandon was conceived—it was when his and Skylar’s fated pregnancy was conceived, too, he realized. Both he and Boss had been busy during that week of R&R, apparently—and Brandon was desperate to hold onto these roots in his past. A tiny bear, a vestige of his childhood, and pictures of the two most important people in his life, people he wanted connections to so badly he’d befriend an orthopedics doc in a hospital emergency department with a picture of his dad tattooed on his arm.

“This is Boss.” He held up the photos, his voice shaking. “This is Brandon’s daddy. He knew! He saw the tat on my arm and knew it was his dad, ’cause look,” he jerked the photos for effect, lining them up alongside his forearm to compare. “Do you know what this means?”

“Oh my God, Travis, we have to do something,” Skylar dragged on his arm, adrenaline raging through both of them.

He raked his hand through his hair, dragged her into his arms, clenched her, stared at the photos over her shoulder.

“Damn straight we do,” he growled. “Sky, baby? Come hell or high water, we’re gonna get him back. Marry me. Let’s make that family.”

He took her hand, clenched it as she nodded, smiling, pressed his mouth to it, and pulled out his cell phone.

“Who are you calling?”

He felt a grin tug up his lips in spite of everything. If anyone could help them with this entanglement, it was Tyler, his big bro. Brandon didn’t think anyone could or would help him. He was in for a surprise. The Dixons had money, had clout, and had a team of lawyers ready to assist if Tyler couldn’t.

He woke up the phone, tapped open his contacts and hit Call without a thought. All this time he’d been semi-estranged, and Skylar and Brandon had forced him to put anchors on his feet, anchors he’d needed long ago. He’d felt like finding Skylar had to mean something, and now he knew the real reason. To rescue this boy. He hadn’t been able to save Boss, but he could save Boss’s son. The phone began ringing.

It was after nine o’clock now. He was going to scare the hell out of Ty. He rarely called, and when he did, it wasn’t at alarm-inducing times of the night. Just like Toby, Tyler still worried about him.

“What are you doing? Trav?” Skylar fretted.

“Sky? You’re the one person who’s given a shit about that kid. He didn’t say the words, but it was obvious that he didn’t want to leave tonight. I’m calling the best damn family law attorney this side of the Red River.”

Her eyes searched back and forth between his, hope warring in her desperate gaze.

“Tyler?” she said.

He nodded as the phone kept ringing. Answer, man. Come on. Answer. Ty had a farm to run. And boys to put to bed. As a single dad who’d been so screwed by his ex-wife, he was probably exhausted and getting ready to hit the hay. If there was anyone who deserved a good woman, it was Tyler.

“If there’s anyone who can help us out, it’s gonna be him—”

The phone picked up. “Trav? What the hell, man? Are you okay?” Ty said through the cell. Cows could be heard mooing in the background. Tyler was clearly out in the barn still.

“I need your help.”

“What the hell, are you relapsing?” Tyler was scrambling in the background now. “Shit, Trav, what the hell happened? Don’t do this again, man. Stop and take some breaths, and let’s think this through. I thought—”

“I’m fine. Tyler.” He still took that deep breath, though. Sound advice. “But I need your legal expertise, and I need it stat. I know you’re probably winding down for the night. I’ll pay you your rate if I need to—”

“Shut up, man. What’s going on? I’m all ears.”

And as he explained everything, as he paced the floor, such desperate hope on Skylar’s face as she watched him and chewed her lip and thumbnail, Tyler finally spoke.

“Trav, man, this is nothing short of incredible—that you found both Skylar and that kid? All right. I’ve got a helluva lot of questions, okay? Gonna need to talk to Skylar, then get some research in, ’cause I need to review some legal literature.”

“I’m sorry, man, to put you out—”

“Shoot, I’ll have Thad take over the morning feed and the milking, no prob. This is far more important. First things first. You guys wanna adopt the boy?”

“Hell yeah.”

“You wanna live your life with Skylar? ’Cause honestly, neither Toby nor I can picture you wanting anyone else.”

“Ain’t no question about it.”

“Then put a ring on her finger, man, ASAP. I’ll call you tomorrow, and we’ll start the ball rolling.”

And as Tyler droned on, as Travis motioned for notebook paper and a pen, as he put the phone on speaker and he and Skylar started jotting notes, Travis had a good feeling about this. Somehow, someway, this would work. Because he and Skylar weren’t apart any longer; they were doing it together, as they always should have been.