The Cowboy's Double Trouble

Again, he shook off the sexual distraction and asked, “How about a cup of coffee?”

“Caffeine would keep me awake. But I might have a Popsicle instead.”

He laughed. “That sounds good to me, too.”

“I’m going to pick up the mess the kids left in the family room first. I would have asked them to do it themselves, but by the time I got them settled down and in bed, I didn’t want to rile them up again.”

“Good idea. Isn’t there an old saying about letting sleeping children lie?”

She lobbed him a bright-eyed grin. “I think you mean ‘dogs,’ but it’s pretty much the same thing.”

He stepped aside and swept his arm in front of him. “I’ll help. After you.”

As she passed by him, he caught another whiff of her floral scent and watched as the hem of her skirt swept across her shapely calves.

Damn, she was lovely. What in the hell had made him think his problems were finally solved now that she was here?

As they headed to the family room, where coloring pages, crayons and workbooks were spread about, Braden said, “I really enjoyed dinner.”

“Thanks. When I moved in with my dad, one of my first chores was to help Laura in the kitchen.”

Laura? Not Mom? Then it dawned on him. “I hadn’t realized that Laura wasn’t your...” His words drifted off. He hadn’t meant to probe into her personal life. But he’d seen Paco and Laura Ramirez together with their other children in town and at the feed store on many occasions and had assumed the happy couple had always been together.

Then again, Elena had to be seven or eight years older than their first born son, who was a star quarterback on the Brighton Valley High football team.

“My mom died when I was twelve,” Elena added.

“I’m sorry.” Braden rarely talked about his past, but for some crazy reason, he found himself saying, “But you’re lucky to have a father like Paco. My dad was never really involved in my life.”

He wasn’t sure why he’d opened up about that. He never hinted at any chinks in his armor and, while Elena’s disclosure had caused him to lower his guard, he wasn’t about to say any more than he already had.

But the truth of the matter was, from what he’d observed of the man, he would have given up his share of the Rayburn riches to have had a father like hers.

“Actually,” Elena said, as she placed the last crayon in the box, “my early years weren’t sunshine and roses.”

Her comment took him aback. “Your dad seems like he has it all together. Your mom—well, I mean Laura—does, too.”

“My dad’s awesome. And Laura is the best, but I didn’t spend much time with them until I was older. And when I did visit them as a little girl, it was always pretty stressful. My real mom made life rough for all of us.”

Braden wanted to ask, “How so?” But he never liked people prying into his business—or the awkward relationship between his mom and dad. From the first week of kindergarten, Braden had learned that his family situation wasn’t the norm and he’d always been interested in what happened inside other kids’ families and what he was missing out on. So he kept quiet, hoping she’d continue.

After a long, thought-filled moment, she said, “My parents got married right out of high school, and I was born six months later. But they fought all the time and separated right after my third birthday.”

“It sounds like splitting up was for the best.”

“That’s true. Unfortunately, my mom was one of those people who thrived on drama and conflict. And she always wanted to have the last word. Believe it or not, their divorce proceedings lasted longer than the marriage.”

“That’s too bad. I know some people can remain friends during a split like that, but from what I’ve heard, my father’s first divorce was pretty sticky, too.”

“I can understand that.”

Could she? Apparently the Brighton Valley rumor mill made sure town newcomers got the scoop, especially on the neighbors who’d moved on to greener pastures, leaving a few locals behind to deal with the embarrassment of dalliances and indiscretions. But then again, Shannon Miller’s situation had been juicy. When Braden had been conceived, Shannon was only seventeen. And at the time, his father was still married to Jason’s mother.

Elena reached for a couple of puzzle pieces that had fallen on the floor. After replacing them into their box, she stretched and arched her back, her hands splayed on her hips, her breasts begging to be noticed.

And he’d noticed, all right, but he’d be damned if he wanted her to catch him at it.

“My dad tried to be fair with my mom so they could put it all behind them,” she added. “But she fought him on every possible issue, using me as a pawn and making my life miserable until I was in the sixth grade. In fact, even though I was only a kid, I felt sorry for him—and a bit guilty, although I know it hadn’t been my fault.”

Braden had struggled with guilt as a kid, too. And he’d been as much of a victim as anyone in his parents’ affair.

“You said it lasted until you were in the sixth grade,” he said. “Is that when she finally quit fighting him?”

“Only because she died.” Elena crossed her arms. “I swear she used to lie awake thinking of ways to create problems for him. And then she’d have to medicate herself to finally go to sleep. But one night, she took too many of her pills.”

“Suicide?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. That might have been her plan because she’d driven to the liquor store for a bottle of vodka. But on the way home, she lost control of her car and ran into a tree. She was probably just strung out on the meds, but who knows what she was thinking at the time. The police ruled it an accident.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Thanks. It was tough, but to be honest, I was torn between grief at losing her and relief that the fighting and misery were finally over.”

Braden’s parents hadn’t really fought, at least, not that he knew of. But their relationship had always been strained and tense, something he’d often thought was all because of him. If he hadn’t been conceived, they would have each gone their own way.

His mom wouldn’t have had to face the guilt she sometimes carried for being a “home wrecker,” either.

He suspected that was one reason she’d never gotten married—or really even dated before she recently ran into her old high school boyfriend at the hospital. Braden had asked her about it once, why she’d kept to herself and remained single, but she’d refused to discuss it.

Was it any wonder he wasn’t able to see romance as an end-all answer to life’s problems? That’s why he kept his relationships temporary and unencumbered. Well, for that reason and for a rather hurtful snub he’d received in high school by one of the cheerleaders.

But he wasn’t going to stew on any of that. Sometimes people got a raw deal in life, although he counted himself lucky in every other way.

“Now that the mess is cleaned up,” Elena said, “how about that Popsicle?”

“You bet.”

As they entered the kitchen, he said, “I realize things haven’t always been easy for you, but it sounds as if you’ve made the best of it.”

“I’ve been fortunate,” Elena admitted. “But it was still hard moving in with my dad and Laura. I’m so much older than the other kids. In fact, I still don’t feel as though I really fit in.”

Braden could certainly understand why she wouldn’t. He and his siblings had never been close, mostly because they’d had different mothers and had always lived apart, other than holidays and shared visits with Granny Rayburn on the Leaning R Ranch.

“It’s not fun being a half sibling. If you’re like me, you never felt as if you belonged in the same family.” Once the words rolled out, he wished he could reel them back. He didn’t like revealing any emotional vulnerability, although her raw self-disclosure had triggered him to lower his guard.

“Actually,” Elena said, “no one ever made that distinction about me. I’m always introduced as their daughter or as the other kids’ sister. And vice versa. So I don’t know why I feel that way.” She opened the freezer, removed the brightly colored box and opened it. Then she handed him a red Popsicle.

“Thanks.”