Mary Sullivan

This Cowboy's Son


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      He should take a look at his parents’ land. His land now. See whether the house was still standing.

      No. He jerked to his feet and wiped the seat of his jeans. No way did he want to go back there.

      He needed to get rid of that house and he could do it without ever seeing it again.

      He strode down the hill to get his truck. He needed to take care of business.

      Driving along the shimmering road toward Ordinary, Matt’s stomach jumped. He hadn’t been in Ordinary in five years.

      Home.

      He tested the word and tasted bitterness on his tongue.

      What was new about that? Ordinary, Montana, hadn’t had much use for him while he grew up here, so why should he need it now?

      The townspeople used to call him “that Long whelp.” As if he had any choice who his parents were.

      He steered his pickup down Main Street, absorbing details of the town, like the police station, whose hospitality he’d enjoyed a couple of times as a teen. The New American Diner sat placid, no longer new, but still popular, he’d bet. Did they still serve the best club sandwich in the West?

      The town basked under a warm May sun and a picture-perfect sky. Matt rubbed the heel of his hand across his chest to ease a weird ache there.

      Perversely, he pulled into a parking spot in front of Scotty’s Hardware. There were other spots available, but sometimes he had to remind himself of his own shortcomings. It kept his head screwed on straight.

      He wondered if Elsa still worked for her dad. He wouldn’t be going in to find out.

      When he walked past the store window, Scotty glared at him. Bad timing. Too bad the old geezer hadn’t retired.

      If Matt planned to stay long enough to pay off his full debt to Angus, he would have to face Scotty at some point. He didn’t have it in him today, but that day would come.

      Farther down the street, he found what he was looking for. A real estate office.

      He stepped inside.

      Paula Leger looked up from her desk when he entered. She hadn’t changed much since high school, had gotten a little thicker in the middle, but not enough to deter from her perky good looks. She wore her hair short these days, frosted with different-colored streaks.

      Her eyebrows rose and she smiled. “Hey, Matt, it’s been a long time.”

      “I remember when your dad used to run this office,” he said, happy to see a friendly face. Paula had always been a decent person, fair and more mature than the rest of the kids in their high school class. He didn’t remember her ever calling him names or putting him down.

      “He still does,” she said. “We’re partners now. What can I do for you?”

      Matt smiled. No bad vibes here. He took a deep breath and then spit it out, trying to do the right thing before he had time to wonder whether it actually was the right thing. “I want to sell my parents’ house and land.”

      If Paula felt any surprise, she hid it well. “Okay, sit down and we’ll discuss it.”

      Paula explained how the process would go and how she would determine what she thought the asking price should be, depending on the condition of the house.

      “Last time I saw the place, it was in terrible shape,” Matt said. “Whoever buys it will just want the land.”

      “Okay. Do you have a copy of the key?”

      “I’ve never had one,” Matt replied. “We never locked the front door when I was a kid. As far as I know, the house is still open.”

      “Do I have your permission to go inside to appraise it?”

      “Sure. Do what you need to do.”

      A few minutes later, Matt stepped out of Paula’s office and breathed a sigh. He’d lifted an enormous weight off his shoulders. He felt scarred by everything that had happened in that house. Now he would never have to face it again.

      That was done. At last.

      He stopped when he saw the flat tire on his truck. Scotty? He spun to look in the hardware store’s windows, but Scotty wasn’t there.

      It took him fifteen minutes to get the tire off, another ten to roll it down to the mechanic and half an hour to get it repaired, filled and back on the truck.

      By the time Matt left Ordinary, he was tired and thirsty.

      All in all, his first trip to town had been mixed. Some people were happy to see him and some clearly weren’t. It was better than he’d hoped for.

      When he reached the ranch, he pulled in behind a compact silver Ford that had had turned in ahead of him from the opposite direction. He recognized Jenny at the wheel.

      He parked behind his horse trailer and got out.

      Jenny cut the engine and opened her door, watching him steadily.

      Nothing friendly there.

      She walked around the car and opened the passenger door. Someone really short got out. Jenny led whoever it was over to where Matt stood at the bottom of the hill.

      She looked determined, almost combative. “This is Jesse,” she said.

      Ah, Jesse. Who was he? Who did he belong to?

      Jenny didn’t say anything else, just stood and watched him silently. What was going on? Kid seemed kind of familiar. Weird. He was too young for Matt to have met him before, though. Not here in Ordinary, anyway.

      “Hey, Jesse,” he said.

      The kid looked up at him with bright blue eyes and said, “Who are you?”

      “I’m Matt.”

      “Are you new?”

      “Yep.”

      “I can show you around.” He balanced on one foot. “I know lots of things.”

      “Yeah? Do you live here?”

      “Uh-huh, with my mom.”

      “Oh? Who’s your mom?”

      The kid gave him an odd look, then glanced up at Jenny.

      Matt studied Jenny and then the child. Where she was dark, with chestnut hair and deep brown eyes, Jesse was fair, with blond curls framing his face and thick light lashes ringing those blue eyes. But Jesse had a smattering of freckles across his nose.

      Matt knew without looking that Jenny did, too.

      “He’s yours?” he croaked. Judging by the boy’s age, she hadn’t wasted any time jumping into bed with someone else after Matt left.

      Matt got a weird feeling in his stomach. His nerves skittered. He asked a question he suddenly feared. “Who’s the father?”

      Jenny crouched down in front of Jesse and said, “Head inside the house. Angela made custard today.”

      “Custard!” he squealed and ran toward the house on sturdy little legs.

      She stood slowly, turned around just as slowly, while a pink stain spread on her cheeks.

      “He’s yours,” she said.

      CHAPTER THREE

      DAMN, ANGUS THOUGHT, what was wrong with him?

      Did he have a death wish?

      Sitting in his car on Main Street, he was deeply disturbed. It was missing Kyle so badly, and seeing Matt again, a kid who’d become his second son, but who could never replace Kyle.

      And finding out that he’d invited to his ranch the man whose son Angus wanted for his own. What a