Second-Chance Cowboy

“I thought Brandy would get run over.” Nathan glanced around, looking for the dog that had disappeared again. “Where did she go?”

As if on cue the dog reappeared, bounding over to Nathan, jumping around him, tongue out, tail wagging with glee.

Nathan tried to pet her but the golden retriever wouldn’t stand still. His grandmother had given Brandy to Nathan as a puppy but the dog had never been properly disciplined.

Which had made the long drive here from Arizona, where Nathan’s grandmother lived, even more tedious.

“That lady sure was pretty,” Nathan said in a matter-of-fact voice as he picked up a stick for Brandy to fetch.

“Yeah. She was.” That much he could admit.

He had a ton of things to do and to occupy his mind. Getting his son settled in and dealing with the new complication his mother-in-law had thrown at him this morning.

Gillian’s mother, Donna, couldn’t keep Gillian’s other horse, the one she was training when she died, at her place. Could Morgan please help her out?

He would have preferred that Donna simply sell the horse, but when she asked to talk to Nathan, she’d told him about his mother’s horse. And suddenly Nathan insisted that Stormy come to live with them at the ranch.

Now he had to find a way to make that happen.

“So should we start unpacking the boxes we put in your room?” he asked.

Nathan tossed the stick and Brandy took off after it. “I guess so,” he said, his voice holding little enthusiasm.

“We can finish decorating your room if you want,” Morgan said with a hopeful tone. “Hang up some pictures.”

This got him a lackadaisical nod as Nathan watched Brandy return.

“Drop it, Brandy,” Nathan commanded, but the dog wouldn’t relinquish the stick.

“I think we should tie Brandy up again while we unpack,” he suggested as he caught the dog by the collar. The dog immediately sat down.

“She doesn’t like being tied up,” Nathan protested. In fact, he had untied her a few moments ago, which was the cause of Brandy’s sudden flight across the road.

“Probably not, but until she gets used to this place, it might be a good idea. You don’t want her to get run over.” Brandy tugged at Morgan’s restraint, but he was used to handling uncooperative dogs and kept a steady pressure on the collar. “Sit,” he said, and once again, she did as she was told.

“Can I untie her when I’m done?”

“If you make sure you stay in the yard with her.”

Nathan stared at the dog and heaved out a long-suffering sigh. “My mom never made me tie her up.”

This didn’t surprise Morgan. Gillian had always prided herself on being free-spirited.

Which was probably why she never told Morgan that Nathan was his son until the boy was two years old.

“I know, but we live on a road and we don’t want anything to happen to her.” Morgan kept his tone even as he told Brandy to heel and led her back to the rope attached to the veranda and tied her up.

Nathan didn’t reply but followed Morgan into the house. He trudged up the stairs behind him, his footfalls heavy. Morgan knew he shouldn’t expect more enthusiasm from the boy over the situation. Thanks to Gillian, the kid barely knew him.

Morgan and Gillian had met during his first year of vet school. She was in town to compete in a rodeo. They fell hard for each other, got married quickly, and then, after a year, she left him, claiming that she didn’t want to be tied down.

Gillian moved back to her mother’s place in Idaho and returned to the life she’d lived when she and Morgan had met. Driving around the country, pulling her horse trailer behind her, entering any rodeo she could.

Two years after she left Morgan, he found out, via her mother, that he and Gillian had a son. A five-year-long battle for visitation rights followed soon after.

For some reason, Gillian kept Nathan away from him with her constant movement, chasing her dream of being a champion barrel racer. Gillian’s mother had no explanation either since she had become as estranged from her daughter and grandson as he was.

Then, this spring, as Gillian was competing in a rodeo up in Grande Prairie, her horse’s feet went out from under him around the second barrel. Gillian fell beneath him and, in a freak accident, was crushed and in a coma. Gillian’s mother, Donna, had flown in from Idaho to be at her daughter’s bedside and was with her when she died hours later. Donna had also arrived with Nathan.

Thus it was at the hospital, at his wife’s bedside, for the first time in the seven years Nathan had been alive, Morgan finally met his son.

They were complete strangers to each other. It was a horrible time. Nathan was withdrawn and grieving and clung to his grandmother, the only other person he was familiar with.

While Morgan was tempted to leave Nathan with Donna, he also knew the sooner he could take care of his son, the sooner they would bond.

And he also knew he needed to come back to a place where he had family and community.

Cedar Ridge.

So he contacted Dr. Waters, the local vet, about a job and managed to snag a commitment. He was supposed to start today but he’d asked if he could begin tomorrow instead.

He and Nathan had moved back to Cedar Ridge only yesterday and were barely unpacked. He wanted to spend one more day with Nathan before he went to school. Though it would be a scant three weeks before school was out, Morgan wanted to get Nathan used to the kids he would be attending school with. That way September wouldn’t be as much of a shock.

Thankfully Morgan’s father lived in Cedar Ridge and was willing to let Nathan come to his place after school. Cord and Ella, his brother and his fiancée, had also offered assistance as needed.

It was a patchwork support system but it would do for now.

He hoped by the time summer vacation began that he would have found a nanny or someone to help out.

“So, it’s a good thing that Uncle Cord and Auntie Ella came to help us get the house organized yesterday,” Morgan said to Nathan with forced joviality. “I’m sure you’ll get to be good friends with your cousins Paul and Suzy.”

“I never met them before.” Nathan’s tone indicated that he didn’t care if he ever met them again. He flopped on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if the conversation was now over.

“But you’ll get to know them better,” Morgan replied, struggling once again with a sense of sorrow. Ever since he met Nathan, the boy had been prickly and angry and rejected every advance Morgan made.

He knew Nathan was grieving and confused and upset, and that it would take time. Morgan tried hard to understand but each rebuff was like a blow.

“When do I get to see Gramma again?” Nathan asked.

“In a couple of weeks.” Donna had asked if Morgan would be willing to drive down to Idaho for her fiftieth birthday and he had agreed. The counselor he talked to had underlined the importance of maintaining contact with the one constant in Nathan’s life. “But for now, let’s see about making this room cozier.” Morgan pulled out his jackknife to cut the tape on one of the few boxes of personal items Nathan had.

Nathan charged to life and yanked the box away from Morgan. “Don’t touch my stuff,” he cried.

“I was trying to help,” Morgan said.

“Don’t need your help.” Nathan pushed the box under his bed, grabbed the other two larger ones and pulled them closer.

Morgan was too taken aback at the fury in his son’s voice to reprimand him.