Once a Cowboy (10 page)

“Did you see your parents often after that?”

“No. I didn’t see them for years. My father said you leave college, that’s it. He was a very strict man. He meant it.”

“When did you start seeing your parents again?”

“I called them one Christmas. My dad started coming to the rodeos soon after that. Not often, but every now and then. He was there when I won big in Vegas. All I could think that night was I couldn’t lose with my dad watching me.” He stopped for a moment as he remembered all the emotions, the energy that drove him. His dad was there and he had to make him proud because of the hurt he’d caused him.
But he wasn’t my father.
The reality of that was almost too painful to bear.

“So you started seeing them?”

“What? Oh.” He’d become completely lost in his
thoughts until he heard her soft voice. “Not really. My dad died a few months later and that’s when my mom and I started seeing each other again. She moved to Dallas to be near Cleo, her sister…and later I settled in Mesquite.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I always had a problem talking to my parents. I’d get this huge knot in my stomach and I lived on Pepto-Bismol. But when I was talking to my mother tonight, I didn’t get that knot. We talked like mother and son. She asked me to forgive her…and I said the words. I didn’t think I’d be able to, but I did.”

“Did you mean them?”

“I’m not sure. She was suffering and I wanted to stop that.”

She touched his arm as if she understood.

He stared down at her fingers, soft as a baby’s yet sensuous as a woman’s. A sense of anticipation filled him, like a kid about to unwrap an unexpected gift. His mind was a mess and he decided he was delusional. Sex was the furthest thing from his mind. But she was one helluva woman.

He cleared his throat. “It was the only thing I could do.”

“Brodie Hayes, you’re going to be fine.”

He looked into her sparkling eyes. “You think so?”

She tilted her head and smiled. “I’ve always heard cowboys are tough.”

“Really? Uhh…” He was staring at her mouth.

“What?”

“Your tongue is red.”

“Oh, no.” She stood on her knees to look at herself in the glass pane.

“Take my word. It’s red.”

She sank back on her heels. “Damn. I was eating a Popsicle earlier. That food coloring must last forever.”

“You like Popsicles?”

She made a face. “Yes. And don’t tell a soul. Naddy swears I’m still six.”

“You’re anything but six.” His eyes met hers and he felt the tension—that good, hot-and-bothered sexual tension. He wasn’t delusional. He was thinking about her in ways that he shouldn’t. But…

“Brodie.” Dr. Finley stood in the doorway.

His thoughts came to a screeching halt. If the doctor was here this time of night, then something had to be wrong.

He was immediately on his feet. “What is it?”

“The nurse said you were down here so…”

“Is this about my mother?”

“Yes. Brodie, I’m sorry. We did everything we could, but she passed away a few minutes ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” The doctor patted Brodie on the shoulder, but he seemed to be in a trance.

“Would you like to see her?” Dr. Finley asked.

“No,” Brodie answered. “I already said goodbye.”

“Fine.” The doctor patted his shoulder again and walked out.

Alex went to Brodie and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry.”

He held her in a fierce grip. His body trembled and her arms tightened around his waist. Time stood still for that brief moment. The smell of leather and antiseptic mingled around them. His stubble brushed her forehead and she breathed in the scent of his skin, which had a distinctive masculine appeal. It was a potent combination, but that wasn’t what kept her holding on. He needed her—no one had ever needed her this much.

He suddenly drew back, his face solemn, pain etched in every feature. Claudia Hayes may not have been his biological mother, but that didn’t make a difference now.

“I need to call Cleo, Colter and Tripp,” he said, his voice hoarse. “And I have to make arrangements.”

She caught his hand. “It’s late. Sit for a while and talk to me.”

He didn’t offer any objection as he half fell into the chair. Leaning forward, he clasped his hands tightly. “This shouldn’t be so hard. Why is it?”

“Because she was your mother and you loved her.”

“She lied to me for so many years.”

“You said she didn’t remember stealing you from the nursery and I believe that. Don’t you?”

He raised a clasped fist to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes.” The word was barely audible.

Unable to stand that anguished look, Alex covered the fist with her hands. “It’s okay to be sad. And it’s okay to love the woman who raised you, even though you had a turbulent relationship. Biological kids have those, too.”

The fist fell into his lap and he stared straight ahead. “All my life I felt like a square peg being forced into a round hole. Finally I couldn’t take the pressure anymore.” He took a deep breath. “I’m confused and numb right now.”

She rubbed his arm, needing to touch him. “That’s understandable.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes wet. “Thank you for being here.”

“You’re welcome.” His pain was almost more than she could take, but she had to keep him talking. He needed that more than anything.

“You said you told your mother you forgave her. Is that what you meant by saying goodbye?”

“Yes. I think we both knew it. Maybe that’s why I was able to say the words.”

“I’m glad you had the chance to talk to her without the anger.”

“Me, too.” He suddenly stood. “I better go. I have things to do.”

“You don’t have a vehicle,” she reminded him.

“What? Oh yeah. My truck’s still at the bar. Man, I’ve got to go.” He whirled toward the door.

“Your truck’s at home,” she called to his retreating back.

He stopped in his tracks and glared at her. “Did you drive my truck?”

“Are you kidding?” She got to her feet. “Since you said I was responsible for it, I was worried how to get it back to your ranch. I didn’t want anything to happen to that chunk of steel. Tripp saved the day. He drove it.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is it okay for a cowboy to drive your truck?”

“Sorry. I’m on edge.” His hand slipped through his hair, which was making it more disheveled. “I wonder where my hat is?”

“You didn’t leave with it this morning.”

“Oh. That’s odd. I never go anywhere without my hat.”

“You were rather upset.”

“Mmm.”

She reached for her purse. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

Brodie spoke with the nurse then they made their way out of the hospital to her Jeep. He didn’t say a word the whole drive back and Alex didn’t push him.

It was after two when she parked at his house. Brodie held on to the dashboard with one hand.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you use this Jeep like a weapon?”

She turned off the lights and the interior flooded with darkness. Everything was so quiet, inside and outside. That peacefulness she’d experienced before settled over her.

“I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me.”

“I bet.”

“The ride wasn’t that bad.” It was good to talk about something so inane.

“You went through three yellow lights. And, by the way, stop means stop, not breeze slowly through.”

“Just be thankful I wasn’t driving your truck.”

“Women don’t drive my truck.”

“Are you serious?” She grinned at him in the darkness and could see he was absolutely serious. “You really have a fetish about that truck.”

He opened his door and got out. “Remember that. And no wonder you couldn’t get me in and out of this toy called a vehicle. It’s like putting on a suit of armor.”

She followed him to the door, knowing if he was griping he had to be feeling better. “It had nothing to do with the fact that you were drunk.”

“A minor detail.” He reached for his keys and realized he didn’t have them.

She jangled them in front of him.

He took them without a word and opened the door.
But he didn’t go in. “You can go home now. Your babysitting job is over.”

She didn’t move, wondering if she should leave him alone.

As if sensing her thoughts, he added, “I’m going to shower and change, then go see my aunt.”

She still hesitated.

“I’ll be fine, Alex. Thanks for everything you did today. I appreciate it.”

“Good night, then.” She turned and headed for her car. She couldn’t treat him like a ten-year-old. He needed time alone.

“’Night. Drive carefully,” he called after her.

“Ahh, don’t know the meaning of the word.”

She heard a sound and she wondered if it was a laugh or a curse. Either way she was smiling as she crawled into her vehicle. The smile didn’t last. The day had been full of heartache and sadness. Driving away, she wondered how much more Brodie could take.

A
T FIVE
B
RODIE
was at his mother’s home. So many times he’d made the trip with a knot in his gut. Maybe today it would be the last time. He had to tell Cleo.

They sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee with Cleo crying sporadically. “All my life I tried to be there for Claudia, but when she needed me the most I wasn’t there.”

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

“If I had been home instead of chasing after Harold, I would have been there for her.”

Brodie toyed with his cup. “After that first DNA test, I kind of thought that you might have done some
thing. I wasn’t clear what, but I knew you’d do anything for Claudia.”

Cleo eyes grew big. “Lordy, no. I’d never do such a thing.”

“I can see that now.”

Cleo sipped at her coffee. “Brodie?”

“Hmm?”

“What about the Braxton family?”

He stood and carried his cup to the sink. “I can’t think about them right now.” Rinsing his cup, he thought that someday soon he’d have to face the reality of the Braxton family. But not today.

He walked back to the table and they talked about Claudia and family, familiar things. “Why don’t you get dressed so we can make arrangements.”

“Your father is buried at Arlington National Cemetery and that’s where Claudia wanted to be buried—with Tom.”

“I’ll get in touch with a military lawyer, but I thought it might be nice to have a service here for all her friends.”

She touched his face with a trembling hand. “You’re such a wonderful person.”

“Thanks, Cleo. I don’t feel too wonderful at the moment. I’m just trying to get through this.”

“I know, sweetie. I’ll throw some clothes on and we can go to the funeral home.”

While he waited he called Tripp and Colter. Colter and his family had made it home from New York late last night and both Colter and Tripp wanted to come, but he assured them it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t tell Colter about his paternity. He had to do that face-to-face.

All the while Brodie was making arrangements he kept thinking that someone else needed a proper burial. Baby Brodie Hayes. And he knew someone who could help him.
Alex
.

A
LEX HAD TAKEN
time off because she’d thought that Brodie might need someone. She couldn’t push herself on him, though, and he had his friends. Still, she’d check in with him today to make sure he was okay.

She had to call the Braxtons to let them know what had happened. They weren’t going to be happy that Claudia’s death would delay their meeting Brodie. Somehow Alex had to work this out.

She quickly showered, changed and headed downstairs. Buck was going to be surprised to see her. In the doorway to the kitchen she paused in complete shock. Buck and his lady friend, Connie, sat at the table eating breakfast. Buck never brought women to the house, but she guessed he thought she and Naddy were out so he didn’t see a problem. And there wasn’t one. Only in Buck’s mind.

“Good morning, Buck, Connie,” she said brightly.

Buck scrambled to his feet like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. “Alex, I didn’t know…you said…”

“You’re stammering, Buck.” Alex held out her hand to Connie. “I don’t believe we’ve met, officially. I’m Alex, Buck’s daughter.”

“Nice to meet you.” They shook hands. Connie was a medium-sized woman with short dyed red hair and a nervous smile.

“Connie stopped by for a cup of coffee,” Buck said in a rush.

“In her bathrobe?” Alex lifted an eyebrow. “Give it up. I’m not six years old and there’s no need to keep Connie a secret. I know she goes with you to the coast.” She poured a cup of coffee.

“I thought you were taking some time off,” Buck said, shifting gears.

“I was, but I’ve changed my mind.” She opened the back door. “I don’t mind if you have girls in your room, but, oh, wait till I tell Naddy.”

“Alex…”

“Connie, stay as long as you like. As far as I’m concerned, you’re welcome here any time.”

“Alex…”

She smiled all the way to her car. Having the upper hand felt damn good. Again she thought she should have her own place. And Buck needed his privacy. But what about Naddy?

She couldn’t think about that now. Other matters took precedence. She wondered how Brodie was this morning.

A
S SOON AS
Alex reached the office, she called the Braxtons. Helen answered.

“Oh, Alex. I hope you have good news.”

“Not really. Claudia Hayes passed away last night.”

“Oh my goodness. How’s Tra…I mean Brodie?”

“Not good. I just wanted to let you know that this is going to take longer than a week.”

“Oh, dear. I’m trying to understand, but we’re all so anxious. George is a completely different man. He
looks forward to each day now. I don’t know how to tell him this.”

“Just be honest. That’s all we can do now.”

“I always thought if we ever found our son he would be as happy to see us as we are to see him.”

“Just give it time,” was all Alex could say.

She’d barely hung up when the phone rang. They had to hire a new receptionist, but Buck ran them off as fast as she could hire them. She might have to use a little blackmail with her father. The thought was tempting.

“Donovan Investigations,” she said into the receiver.

“Alex Donovan, please,” a male voice said.

“This is Alex.”

“Ms. Donovan, this is Sergeant Talbot with the Vegas Police Department.”

Alex sat up straight. Something had happened to Naddy. Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach.

“What’s this about?”

“I have Nadene Donovan and Ethel Grimly in a cell and…”

Alex leapt to her feet. “What! Why do you have my grandmother locked up?”

“For disturbing the peace and being a public nuisance.”

“What did she do?”

“They caused quite a ruckus at a strip club last night. Mrs. Donovan pulled the stripper’s G-string down and all hell broke loose. Both women were more than a little intoxicated.”

“Oh, my.” Alex plopped into her chair.

“Listen, I’m not too thrilled about having women
that age in my jail. If you’ll pay the fine and damages, I’ll make sure they’re on the next plane out of here.”

“Yes. Thank you. Just tell me where to wire the money.” She jotted down the information. “They have tickets so if you’ll escort them to the airport, I’ll meet them on this end.”

“I’ll see that it’s done, and Ms. Donovan, don’t send your grandmother to Vegas for a while.”

“Don’t worry. She won’t be going anywhere for some time.”

Alex hung up the phone fuming, then she started to pace. What was Naddy thinking? Naddy drank, but there were very few times Alex had seen her drunk. She must have really tied one on last night. Pulling down a stripper’s G-string. Only Naddy would do something like that.