Heart Of A Cowboy (13 page)

“Nicholas is having a good time.”

“That's your genes. Not mine.”

“But studying and the love of books are yours.”

“He's a little bit of both of us and a whole lot of his own.”

Zachary crossed his right arm over his chest while stroking his chin with his left hand. “Aren't most children?”

“Probably. I'd love to find out. I never pictured being a mother of one child. Growing up I enjoyed my relationship with my sister.” The second she admitted that to Zachary she chanced a peek at his face.

His earlier neutral expression morphed into a frown, the cleft in his chin prominent.

“How about you? You were engaged once. Did you two talk about having a family?”

He blinked. The silence stretched between them.

“I'm sorry. I had no right to ask.” What had happened to Zachary from the time she'd left to when she'd come back to Tallgrass?

“Yeah, I wanted a family. Being around my nephews and niece made me realize that.”

“That's the way I feel about Rachel's family. Every year she and Mom would drive across country and visit Nicholas and I for a couple of weeks. We spent time at the beach, seeing the sights. The time we went to Jamestown and Williamsburg was so much fun. Nicholas was four. Before he got so sick he couldn't go far from home. I think that trip sparked his love of history.”

Zachary's intense gaze trapped hers. “At four?”

“He was reading by three, calculating addition, subtraction and even multiplication in his head.”

“What an unusual son we have.”

For a long moment a bond sprang up between them. He'd roped her as if he'd taken her into his arms again. She wished he would.

Finally he turned his head, poking the fire with a stick they'd roasted marshmallows on. “What happened when he got sick?”

“His health began to deteriorate until finally his doctor heard his heart murmur and referred us to a pediatric cardiologist. They put a catheter in to repair the hole. It's like a plug. But it became infected and they had to repair it surgically. He almost died. It took quite a toll on him.”
And me, but my son's alive through the grace and power of the Lord.

He folded both arms over his chest. “I wish I could have been there for him.”

“I wish you'd been there, too.” It should have been that way. If only… The brief connection she'd experienced with Zachary came crashing down about her. Her memories
and emotions—mostly sadness—swamped her, sagging her shoulders. She pushed to her feet. “I think I can sleep now.”

As she made her way to the tent where Nicholas was, Zachary's continued silence emphasized the distance between them. She wanted his forgiveness and trust. Neither of which she had. If she ever wanted that family she'd told him she wanted, she needed to move on. Why hadn't she while she lived in South Carolina? Her excuse had always been Nicholas. But now that she was back in Tallgrass she realized it was because she'd never stopped loving Zachary, even when she'd felt rejected by him.

When she settled next to Nicholas, weariness surrounded her like the sleeping bag. But Zachary's distinctive male scent ridiculed her thoughts of slumber.

 

Nicholas chattered most of the way back to the ranch from the lake the next evening. Zachary tried to follow what his son said, but his mind was filled with images from the weekend camping trip. Lying in the sleeping bag where Jordan had been moments before—her vanilla fragrance taunting him. Her trying to bait her hook with a wiggly worm. Her glee at reeling in a fish only to have to throw it back because of its small size. The sleepy-eyed look she'd given him that morning when she'd crawled out of the tent behind Nicholas.

And if truth be known, he'd enjoyed himself and believed she had, too. What would it have been like if he'd known about his son from the very beginning? Would they have a parcel of kids by now? Would he have become a bull rider? Had the rodeo accident? That day changed so much for him. His career was over. His fiancée walked away because he couldn't give her what she wanted—a family.
Like Jordan wants.

The thought she wanted more kids marked his heart like a branding iron used on horses. It was too late for him but not her. Even if he could put aside his mistrust, how could he ask her to give him a second chance when he couldn't give her any more children?

“Dad?”

“Huh?”

“Who's that at Aunt Becca's?”

Zachary swept his attention toward the blue house as he passed it. Stiffening, he sucked in a sharp breath. “My parents.” He'd avoided having any real conversation with his mother about Nicholas and what had happened eleven years ago. He should have known she wouldn't be put off for long.

He slid his gaze toward Jordan in the front seat. Her ashen features spoke of her own turmoil at his parents' visit.

W
hen Zachary pulled up behind his parents' car, Jordan sank lower in the seat, her hands clenched beside her.
What do I say to the woman who kept my calls from Zachary, Lord? Things would be so different if she hadn't.

“They're my grandparents?” Nicholas pushed open the back door of the truck and jumped down. Without waiting for a reply to his question, he darted across the yard toward them.

Zachary sent her a look full of concern. “I can understand if you'd rather not talk with my mom.”

“I imagine she's not too happy with me, and I'm certainly not with her.” Jordan stared out the windshield at her son, who embraced his grandparents as though he'd known them all his life. Didn't he realize that woman was the reason he didn't know about his father?

“She shouldn't have kept the message from me, but she was doing what mothers do—protecting their children.”

She knew she wasn't being fair but the past month had been hard for her, her son and Zachary. Yes, she was to blame as well as his mother, but she'd been young, hardly an adult thrust into an adult situation she didn't know how to handle. “So you can forgive her but not me?” Finally
she swung her full attention toward Zachary, narrowing her eyes when she saw the deep furrows on his forehead, the muscle in his cheek twitch, the flare of his nostrils.

His grip on the steering wheel whitened his knuckles. “You can't compare apples to oranges. The two situations are not the same.”

“Yes, I can. She lied to me.” Jordan shoved open the door. “It seems to me you have a double standard. I'm getting my car and leaving. I'll stop by and get Nicholas. He needs to go home. He's had a long, tiring weekend.”

She started for the barn where she'd left her car parked and had only taken a few steps before Zachary blocked her path. “Nicholas can stay the night with me. He needs to spend some time with his grandparents.”

Moving into his personal space, she shoved her face close to his. “No. He can visit tomorrow after he's rested and done his schoolwork.”

His glare drilled through her. “I'll bring him home early tomorrow afternoon. This isn't a request. He's my son, too.”

The stubborn set to his jaw declared his intention to fight for Nicholas to stay and frankly at the moment she was exhausted from the weekend's ups and downs. Her anger and energy siphoned from her. She stepped back. “Fine, but I need him home by noon. He has his anatomy class tomorrow at one.”

Skirting around him, she marched down the road toward the barn. Pinpricks ran down her spine. She wouldn't look back at Zachary. She didn't need to see that he watched her.

 

“Mom said you're upset.” Rachel came into the kitchen where Jordan was working on her laptop the next morning.

She twisted toward her older sister. “Zachary's mother is at the ranch.”

“And Nicholas is out there?”

“Yeah, but it's not so much that as what she did to me.”

Rachel crossed to the coffeepot and poured her some in a mug, then sat across from Jordan. “You're having a hard time forgiving her.”

“Yes.” She pushed her laptop to the side and cradled her coffee, the warmth from the drink doing nothing to take the chill from her fingers. “Everything would be so different if she hadn't kept my calls from Zachary.”

“If you can't forgive her, how can you expect Zachary to forgive you?” Rachel sipped her drink.

Her sister's question threw her off balance. She stared down at her mug, trying to come up with an appropriate answer. She opened her mouth to say something. The situation between her and Zachary's mother was different, wasn't it?

But it wasn't.
The Lord forgives us, but He expects us to forgive others in return. How can I not?

“I know it won't be easy, but don't you think you should make the first move? Show Zachary you can forgive.”

Jordan shook her head. “I don't know if I can.”

“Just think on it. We can't expect to receive forgiveness if we can't forgive.”

“How did you become so wise?”

“It's the duty of an older sister.” Rachel took another swig of her coffee.

Jordan shut down her laptop, her sister's advice nibbling at her defenses. “I think I'll pick Nicholas up at the ranch before anatomy class. Maybe by then, I'll know if I can forgive her and what to say.”

Rising, her sister hugged her then took her mug to the sink. “I know you'll do the right thing.”

With her chin cupped in her hand, Jordan stared at a spot across the kitchen as Rachel left.
Lord, I don't have to ask You what You think I should do. I know, but I don't know if I can do it. Please give me the strength and words to forgive Zachary's mother.

 

Later after Jordan called Zachary to let him know she would pick up Nicholas, she headed out to the ranch early, hoping to catch his mother at Becca's. She took Tucker. Her son's pet had been missing him and moping around. When she parked behind the Rutgerses' car with an Arizona license plate, she kept the car windows down enough for Tucker to poke his nose out. Then, climbing from the Camaro, she fortified herself with a deep, cleansing breath and mounted the steps to the porch.

Becca answered her knock. Moving to the side to allow Jordan inside, Zachary's sister welcomed her with a smile. “Nicholas is at the barn with Zachary.”

“I'm here to see your mother.”

Her grin vanishing, Becca glanced toward the kitchen. “She's in there doing her daily crossword puzzle. Should I referee?”

“No. Your mom and I need to come to an understanding.”

“Agreed.” Again Becca made another quick look toward the kitchen. “She was thrilled to meet Nicholas yesterday evening. They're planning on staying the whole week and hope to spend as much time with him as possible. Dad's down at the barn with him and Zachary.”

Jordan slowed her steps the closer she came to the kitchen. She wasn't sure how to begin a conversation with Zachary's mom. When she entered, the older woman looked
up. Her sixty-plus years carved deep lines into her face. Lines at the moment that stressed her ire.

“You're early. Nicholas is at the barn.” Putting her pencil down on the newspaper, Mrs. Rutgers pinched her lips even tighter together.

The cold thread that ran through her voice chilled Jordan, but she was determined to have this meeting with Zachary's mother. Before she'd left home, she'd read several passages in her Bible on forgiveness, trying to shore up her fledgling resolve to do what was right in the eyes of the Lord. “I know he's at the barn. I came early to talk to you.”

“Why?”

Jordan sank onto the chair across from Mrs. Rutgers. “Don't you think we should talk with all that has happened? We owe it to Nicholas and Zachary.”

Her eyebrows beetling together, she stared down at the crossword puzzle. “I suppose so. You kept our grandson from us for ten years. That was so wrong.” Her voice strengthened its forceful tone as she spoke.

“And it wasn't wrong that you kept my calls from Zachary? If you had told him, you would have known.”

“Why didn't you tell me that day why you were calling?”

Her words hit her like icicles piercing her flesh. “I wanted Zachary to be the first to know. I owed him that.”

“Something you didn't do. Did you?”

She sucked in a deep breath, the hammering tap of her heartbeat pulsating against her rib cage. “I thought I was. I didn't know you wouldn't pass the message on. After you went on and on about him being engaged and then he didn't call, I thought he didn't want to talk to me.” Remembering the pain and conflict that assaulted her at that time brought tears to her eyes. She might forgive Mrs. Rutgers,
but she didn't want to break down and cry in front of the woman.

“You should have known he would want to know about his child.”

“There was a part of me so hurt by his rejection that I convinced myself he wouldn't want to know.” When Mrs. Rutgers started to say something to that last statement, Jordan held up her hand. “But there was a part of me that knew he would and couldn't bring myself to tell him. I'm sorry for what happened here, and I hope we can get past this for Nicholas's sake.”
And mine. I'm tired of past events dictating my future.

Mrs. Rutgers snorted. “I'll be civil to you when my grandson is around, but that's all I can promise.” Bending over the puzzle, she picked up the pencil and jotted down some letters in the squares.

Jordan stared at the top of her silver hair. Rising, she clutched the back of the chair. “I forgive you for not telling Zachary about my calls, for lying to me about him being engaged. That's what I came to tell you. I can understand you wanting to protect your son. That's how I feel about Nicholas. Good day.” Her rehearsed apology rolled from her lips like tumbleweed on a deserted road.

She marched toward the front of the house, not stopping to say anything to Becca. Tears burned her eyes, and she needed to get outside before she cried. On the porch the late-September air cooled her heated cheeks. The scent of honeysuckle along the front of the house floated to Jordan, reminding her of Granny's favorite fragrance. Thinking of her grandmother's parting words from Ephesians calmed her nerves.
And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.

She'd done what she'd come to do, and now she would
pick up Nicholas and take him to his anatomy class. Peace settled in her heart as she headed to her car and drove toward the barn.

Nicholas stood on a fence slat, leaning against the top rail. He watched Zachary in the corral getting ready to mount a chestnut horse with Mr. Rutgers holding the animal by the halter. Jordan parked next to Zachary's black truck and approached her son.

Nicholas peered at her, saw Tucker following her and hopped down. He stooped to pet his dog. Its tail wagged against his leg. “Dad's riding this horse for the first time. He's been working with the gelding getting him used to him being around the saddle, but he's still a bit skittish.”

Jordan peered at Zachary in the ring. He talked to the animal in a soft, soothing tone as he held the reins in his left hand tightly. After putting his foot in the stirrup, he swung up onto the gelding's back in one fluid motion, putting his weight in the center of the horse's back. His father had backed off toward the fence where she and Nicholas stood on the other side while Zachary continued to murmur to the animal. The gelding pranced back for a few steps then settled down.

Tucker barked. Zachary glanced toward them, zeroing in on Jordan. For a few seconds their gazes locked.

Suddenly the dog slipped from Nicholas's grasp and darted into the corral, yelping. He crossed the paddock, heading near the gelding and Zachary in his pursuit of a cat that raced from the barn toward a large oak shading part of the paddock.

The horse jumped and sidestepped, then began bucking. In a split second, Zachary flew off the animal's back and landed with a thud on the dirt ground a few feet from the gelding. Jordan gasped. Tucker yapped at the bottom of the tree where the cat had disappeared. The loud sound echoed
through the yard. The horse reared up and his hooves came down toward Zachary. He rolled, but one hoof clipped him on the leg.

Nicholas started to climb through the slats to get to his father while Nicholas's grandfather hurried out to the middle.

“Stay put,” she said to her son and rushed to the gate into the corral. “Don't come in here. Get Tucker. Calm him down.”

With her heart pounding, she dashed to Zachary while his father approached the horse cautiously. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he said, pain etched into his tanned features. “Don't, Dad. I'll take care of it. Leave him to me.” Zachary rubbed the calf of his leg then struggled to stand.

Jordan put her arm around his middle to help him. He allowed her to for a second, then shrugged from her.

“Keep Nicholas out. You get out. And keep Tucker quiet.” He hobbled toward the frightened gelding.

Jordan moved to the gate, but her attention focused fully on the scene in the corral. The horse's nostrils widened, pupils dilated. Out of the corner of her eye Jordan noticed Nicholas scoop Tucker up into his arms and quickly walk away from the oak. Blissful quiet reigned again except for the horse's snorts.

With his arms out in front of him, his hands up, palms outward, Zachary slowed his steps, saying, “Easy. Everything's okay. Easy. No one is gonna hurt you.”

Jordan pictured again that time Zachary had fallen off the horse in the rodeo and broken his arm. It could have happened today, or if she hadn't been here, Nicholas could have been out in the middle of the corral before his father noticed. The gelding could have charged….

Don't go there. It didn't happen. Lord, how do I turn
control over to You and stop getting so worked up over anything out of my control?

She splayed her hand over her chest as she inhaled then exhaled.

Finally Zachary led the gelding toward the gate. Jordan backed away with Nicholas plastered against her side. Her gaze never left the horse as Zachary limped toward the barn with his dad next to him.

“Did you see Dad? Nothing scares him.”

These past six weeks she'd felt as though she'd had no say in what was going on around her. She wasn't even sure her homeschooling with Nicholas was working out. Was she doing it right? What if her son lost ground in his education because of her?

Nicholas started forward.

“Where are you going?”

“To make sure Dad's okay.”

“First let's put Tucker in the car. We don't want any more problems.”

Nicholas slumped toward the Camaro and settled his dog in the front seat. “He didn't mean to cause trouble.”