CHAPTER SIX
ROMAN HADN’T BEEN sure there was anything worse than his mother’s annoying verbal jabs. But there was. And it was his son’s silence.
Now that Belle had been sent home the day before, Tate and he had the room to themselves. Something that Roman had wanted. That’s because he’d envisioned it giving them a chance to have some long, meaningful conversations.
It hadn’t.
Tate was playing with the yo-yo Vita had sent him while he watched some show about soy farmers. Not that there was a good channel selection on the hospital TV, but it was a hit to the ego that his son preferred organic soy farming to him. Before that, Tate had preferred a documentary on dwindling fly-fishing spots. Before that, he’d played a game on his phone until the battery had died. When no one had been able to find him a charger, the marathon of compelling TV had started.
Roman wasn’t sure how much longer this would go on. They were waiting on Dr. Sanchez to give them a yay or nay verdict. Nay would mean they’d have to stay in the hospital one more day.
A yay would mean they could go home.
Tate was fine physically and probably could have already left, but Roman was thankful the doctor had kept the boy with him. This way, they could leave for home together instead of Tate having to stay with the housekeeper, Garrett or Sophie.
“As soon as we get home, I’ll start looking for a new school for you,” Roman threw out there. Like everything else he’d said to his son, he rethought that. Maybe Tate wasn’t mentally ready for school yet, but he couldn’t imagine that it would be a good idea for him to just sit around in between therapy appointments.
And there would be therapy.
Dr. Woodliff had already made it clear that he wanted to see Tate indefinitely.
“I can drive you back here for your sessions,” Roman added, rethinking that, too. It was possible that just the thought of therapy was depressing for Tate.
It sure as heck was depressing for him.
So was the fact that he was getting behind at work. Of course, that depression was to a much lesser degree than what he was feeling for Tate. Roman had delegated some of the work to his assistant, and his business partner, Lucky McCord, had taken on some, as well. But sooner or later, Roman needed to tackle at least some of the paperwork. The trips he’d have to hand off, too, since he didn’t want to be away from Tate until things were back to normal.
That was another depressing thought.
Normal hadn’t been exactly stellar what with Tate’s surly moods. Roman hoped the new normal was an improvement, but he would settle for a life where his son didn’t feel the need to take pills to dull his pain.
“Will my mom be at my appointments with the doctor?” Tate asked.
It wasn’t an out-of-the-blue question. Dr. Woodliff had said that Valerie should come for some of the therapy sessions. Roman had nixed that at first, but then the doctor had reminded him that Valerie was at the root of this.
Root.
Yeah, she was. But that didn’t mean she would help matters if she came. She could only stir up Tate and make things worse. She’d stir up Roman, too. Not in a good way, either. There was no trace of the love he’d once felt for her, but there sure as heck was a lot of resentment.
Still, Roman had tried to call Valerie, using the last phone number he had for her. It was no longer in service so he’d asked Clay to try to track her down. Roman had even had his housekeeper take Clay the envelope that had arrived for Tate the day of the suicide attempt. There hadn’t been a return address on it, nor any hint of Valerie’s whereabouts inside. It had been just another recycled card, this one for his birthday. But there had been a postmark, and it was possible Clay could track her down using it. That was one of the few advantages to having a cop in the family. That, and the fact that his sister was crazy in love with the guy.
There was a knock at the door, and Roman sat up, figuring it was Dr. Sanchez. But it was Garrett. His big brother glanced at him, at Tate, the yo-yo and then at the TV.
“Well, hell. No wonder you’re down in the dumps,” Garrett said, clearly not afraid to address the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room. “Here, this might help.” He dropped a phone charger on the bed and handed Tate a brown paper bag. “Burger and fries from the diner. I asked them to add some extra grease for you.”
Tate reached for both right away. “Thanks, Uncle Garrett.” He sounded so happy that Roman was surprised he didn’t add some “gee-whizzes” to that. Tate plugged in his phone and started in on the burger.
“Is that an extra grease burger for me?” Roman tipped his head to the second bag his brother was holding.
Garrett shook his head. “The doc said you’re still on a restricted diet so I got you some crackers and vanilla pudding.” He flashed his golden boy smile, the one that made him the darling of Wrangler’s Creek. “It’s not whipped cream, but it’ll have to do.”
Roman scowled at him. A long, mean scowl. Obviously, Belle had been blabbering. Thankfully, Tate didn’t ask about the whipped cream reference, probably because he couldn’t hear over his own chewing. He was wolfing down the burger as if it were the cure for everything that ailed him.
“So, when are they springing you from this place?” Garrett gave Tate’s bare foot a tug.
Tate shrugged. “Dad was just talking about that. Soon, I guess.” He stopped in midbite and perked up again. “Do I have to go back to San Antonio? Can I stay with you, Aunt Nicky and Kaylee at the ranch?”
Kaylee was Nicky’s four-year-old daughter. Hardly a companion for a teenager. In fact, there was no one at the ranch anywhere near Tate’s age.
Garrett looked at Roman. “That’s up to your dad, but you know you’re welcome anytime. Your dad owns the ranch, you know?”
“Yeah, I know, but he hates it there because of Grandma fussing at him. But I don’t hate it there.”
Roman nearly pointed out that Tate hadn’t spent a single night at the ranch, but he had visited a couple of times. However, this probably had more to do with Tate not wanting to return to his friends, because he would have to give some kind of explanation about why he’d been gone. Of course, most of those friends already knew he’d been expelled from school so they might think he’d already moved on.
Garrett turned to Roman, and while he didn’t smile exactly, Roman thought his brother might be fighting back doing so. That’s because Garrett wanted Roman back at the ranch. He was the person in the family who was always trying to get them all under the same roof.
But his mother was under that roof, too.
“I’d love for both of you to stay,” Garrett said to Tate. “But it’s up to your dad. He probably has something pressing back in San Antonio.”
Yes, Roman did. His sanity was what was pressing. It was bad enough being here in town, and despite the safe words his mother had come up with, Roman doubted she’d stick to using them. No, once the shock of her heart problem had worn off, she’d be back to her own harping self. And he’d be back to snapping at the harping. Not exactly a peaceful environment for his son.
Then Tate said something that changed everything.
“Please, Dad.”
That was it.
Two little words that had plenty of emotion behind them.
Roman’s kneejerk reaction was still to say no. Their life and home weren’t here. His job wasn’t, either. Plus, there was that whole other part about the ranch being a crap-pit for him. Too many memories. Too much bad blood.
“Please,” Tate repeated. “Can we go there together?”
And that question erased any argument Roman could have given him. However, Roman could put some conditions on it.
“Okay, we can stay at the ranch.” Roman was surprised a thunderbolt didn’t hit him because he’d sworn he wouldn’t go back there. “But only for a couple of days. Just until you’re feeling better.” Until he was feeling better, as well, since Roman wasn’t sure how fast he’d be back at full speed.
Judging from Tate’s frown, he didn’t like Roman’s condition. “Uh, I was thinking I could finish out the school year here. It’d only be for six weeks,” he quickly added. “I could go to school here and keep on seeing Dr. Woodliff without having to drive back and forth.”
Obviously, Tate had given this a lot of thought. Too bad he hadn’t let Roman in on it so he could have figured out if this was a good solution or a disaster in the making. Garrett was of no help. His brother just shrugged.
“You might not be able to get into school here,” Roman reminded him. “They might not take transfers this late in the semester.”
“Dr. Woodliff said they would. He said his wife is a teacher there and that he could help me with it if that’s what we decided to do.”
So, Tate hadn’t only thought about this, he had also talked to his therapist about it.
“You wouldn’t have to go to the ranch with me,” Tate went on. “I know you’re busy and all with the rodeo stuff. But I’d be okay there without you. I mean, it’s not like I need a sitter or anything.”
No. But Tate did need a father.
And Roman needed his son.
Garrett lifted his eyebrow but didn’t smile. That’s because he knew what Roman was about to say. Best not to gloat especially when the gloatee might punch him first chance he got.
“Okay,” Roman said. “We’ll stay at the ranch.”
Tate smiled. Actually, it was more of a grin. “Thanks, Dad.”
He would have said it a thousand times just to get that kind of response from his boy. But saying it and living it were two different things entirely.
Roman hoped like the devil that he didn’t regret this.
* * *
ROMAN REGRETTED THIS.
The moment he stepped into the house at the ranch, he felt as if he’d gotten sucked into a circle of hell that Dante had forgotten to mention.
Home.
Home was a good place to be if it wasn’t filled with shit memories. And this place was doused in them. Added to that, there was a hoard of people there to greet Tate and him. Alice, the housekeeper. Lawson, his cousin. Sophie, Nicky, Kaylee, Clay, his mother and an old family friend, Billy Lee Seaver. They didn’t exactly shout “surprise” when Tate and Roman walked in with Garrett, but it was obvious that this was some kind of celebration.
No Mila, though. Roman had thought she might be here for this. But she was probably still at work.
The hugs started, and even though they tried to keep them gentle because of his surgery, Roman winced a few times. Winced, too, when his mother told him he needed a haircut. He probably did, but he made a mental note not to get one while he was there. Yes, it was childish, but his mother brought that out in him.
“You have your old rooms, of course,” Sophie said.
She took the gift bag from Vita and some flowers that Roman was holding. Actually, there were six bouquets in all, most sent by his business associates. Tate and Garrett had those, and Alice hurried to take them so that Sophie could show them to their rooms.
Roman didn’t need her help finding his, but he didn’t know exactly where his mom had set up a room for Tate. He only knew that she had done it because she’d mentioned it any time he was around her. Of course, she always mentioned it as a complaint that Roman had never let the boy stay there.
The house was sprawling by anyone’s standards, and they went down the hall where there were several bedrooms. His was exactly as he’d left it thirteen years ago, right down to the rodeo trophies he’d won, and the motorcycle magazines. It was like walking into a time capsule preserved in that circle of hell.
“Your room’s right next door to your dad,” Sophie told Tate.
It was a good room. Big and with windows that overlooked the barns and pastures. Roman knew that because it was the same view he had.
“Your housekeeper brought some clothes and such,” Sophie went on. She tipped her head to a suitcase on the floor in Roman’s room.
Garrett came in and put the flowers on the desk. His mother was hovering right behind his brother. At least the others hadn’t followed for this part of the homecoming. Not that Roman didn’t want to see them. He did. He just didn’t want to see them right now.
“You want to go for a ride?” Garrett asked Tate. “We got in some new horses this morning, and we can see how they do.”
“Yeah.” Tate was obviously eager to do that.
“I would ask you, but you’re not in any shape to get in a saddle,” Garrett added to Roman.
“He’s supposed to be on bed rest,” his mother reminded him.
“So are you,” Roman reminded her right back.
Hell. He had to stop this snapping. Roman didn’t want to drag Tate’s mood down to his own shitty level.
“You want to take a nap?” Sophie asked him when Garrett and Tate headed out. His mother finally left, too.
“Sure.” That was a lie. Roman just wanted a moment so he could steel himself up for the rest of this visit. Six weeks. It suddenly felt like an eternity.
Sophie smiled, kissed his cheek. “My advice? If you need a place to escape, come to the guest cottage. That’s where my office is and there’s plenty of room. There’s enough office space for you, too. Temporary office space,” she added.
“Thanks. For both the offer and the temporary part.”
“I know this isn’t easy for you, but it’ll be nice to have you around.”
“So Garrett won’t have to courier all the paperwork from the ranch that I need to sign,” he commented.
“That, and we love you. You didn’t forget that, did you?”
No. It was the one thing that had given him any sort of anchor. Especially after Valerie had left. Roman took hold of her arm, eased her closer. Well, as close as he could, considering her huge belly, and he brushed a kiss on the top of Sophie’s head.
“I love you, too, Prissy Pants,” he said.
Because it was an old childhood nickname that she hated, it got the exact reaction he expected. Sophie punched his arm. And she was good at it, too. It stung like hell. He’d obviously taught her the right way to punch.
“You know I can always smother you in your sleep, Quick Zipper,” she fired back.
Ah, good one. Roman hated it as much as she did Prissy Pants. He hadn’t always hated it, though. Once he’d thought it was cool that the other teenagers had considered him, well, a guy-slut who got a lot of action. But after he’d knocked up Valerie, the label just made him feel like a guy-slut who should have been more careful.
Sophie’s gaze went to the window where Roman saw Garrett and Tate heading for the barn. “Can Tate ride?” she asked.
“Yeah. He’s had lessons.”
Lessons. That made him wince, too. He was an eighth-generation Texan from a long line of ranchers. It seemed a little like nails on a chalkboard to realize that his son hadn’t grown up riding. Maybe he could change that. Since Tate was going to have to move schools, anyway, maybe Roman should buy a place in the country where they could have horses.
Sophie put the gift bag on the desk, and even though he didn’t actually see her look inside, she must have gotten a peek of the condom. “Did Vita expect you to need that while you were here?”
“Who knows with Vita.”
She made a sound of agreement. “Because Vita gave Mila a condom, too, along with some mumbo jumbo about there being some big changes in her life.”
Judging from Sophie’s tone, she thought this was all connected. It was, but the only connection was in Vita’s warped mind.
“Mila and I aren’t hooking up,” he assured his sister. “I don’t hook up with virgins.”
“Good.”
Well, he hadn’t expected that. Roman had always gotten the feeling that Sophie was trying to matchmake Mila and him.
“Despite what Mila thinks right now,” Sophie continued, “she’s not the casual sex type. And she shouldn’t have sex with some guy from a dating site just because she no longer wants to be a virgin.”
Since Roman could see himself in the dresser mirror, he knew he made a face. “Is that what she’s doing?”
Sophie made a face, too. One of disapproval. “She’s considering it. Mom gave her these dating sites, and Mila said she was going to use one of them.”
Roman had to do a mental double take. “Why would Mom give Mila anything about a dating site? It was Mom who was asking Mila about them.”
“No. That was Mila’s fantasy dating sites.” She stopped. “How’d you know about that?”
“Mom has zero whispering skills, and it wasn’t as if I could get up and walk somewhere else. They were talking about it right after my surgery.”
Sophie nodded as if all of this was crystal clear. It wasn’t. He motioned for her to continue with her explanation.
“Before I started seeing Clay, Mom looked up some regular dating sites for me. Those are the ones she gave to Mila, though I can tell you from personal experience that it was a sucky ordeal. Anyway, Mila gave Mom the sites for fantasy dating, but I’m hoping Mom will decide against doing those.”
So did he. On both counts. A woman shouldn’t have to risk a “sucky ordeal” for her first time, and he didn’t want to think about his mother having fantasies of any kind.
“I plan to talk to both of them about it. Now, you go ahead and get some rest.” Sophie gave him another kiss and walked away.
Well, rest had been the game plan, but Roman wasn’t sure that would happen now. If he tried to nap, he was certain the only thing that would be going through his head was the conversation he’d just had with his sister.
Crap.
Why did he even care a rat’s butt about this? His mom and Mila were grown women. And plenty of people used dating sites, even strange ones like those that catered to the fantasy experiences. One of his business associates had found a site that catered to men who liked threesomes. Then foursomes.
Since it was obvious he wasn’t going to get any rest, Roman used the French doors in his room to go into the backyard. As a teenager, he’d used them to sneak in and out of the house, and he was sort of doing that now. He wanted a moment to himself. And he got it. No one, including any of the hands, was around. Not a surprise, really. On a nice spring day like this, there was plenty of ranch work to do, and Garrett and Tate would have gone out through the other side of the barn once they’d saddled up.
The stitches in his side were still letting him know he wasn’t completely healed, so Roman kept his steps light as he walked across the yard and to the corral where he spotted two palominos. Probably some of the new horses that Garrett had mentioned he’d just bought.
His brother had certainly made this place successful. Roman had the proof of that in the financial reports that Sophie sent him each month. Not just for the ranch, but for Granger Western, as well.
The bottom line was they had plenty of money.
But then, they always had. They hadn’t done anything to get that seed money started. They could thank their ancestors for that, but his siblings had certainly built on that, and built big. Roman had done the same with his rodeo promotion business, but he never forgot that it wouldn’t have been possible without those silver spoons they’d all been born with. Most of the time, though, people forgot about all the hard work that it took to keep those spoons polished.
He made his way to the corral fence to get a better look at the horses. He not only got that, Roman also got a jolt from the memories. There were memories everywhere on the ranch, but there was a bad one here.
This was where he’d had one of those pivotal moments in his life. Well, actually, the pivoting had started earlier that day. He’d been about the same age as Tate and had ridden his bicycle over to his great-grandfather’s old house. Not far, just a half mile or so, and it was a trip he’d made plenty of times before. That day, however, he’d seen his father’s truck, pulled off onto one of the trails that led to the house. Roman had stopped because he thought his dad had broken down, and he’d looked around, expecting to see his father fixing a flat tire or something.
But Roman hadn’t seen that.
Instead, he’d gotten an eyeful of his father making out with the new waitress from the Maverick Café. Roman couldn’t remember her name, but he sure as hell could remember seeing his dad kissing her and running his hand into her unbuttoned squirrel-brown uniform top. Even though Roman knew little about sex in those days, he was well aware of what was going on and recognized the heat-glazed eyes and the groping.
When his dad had spotted him, he’d stopped, bolted from his truck and gone after him, but Roman had ridden his bike into the woods and hidden.
Roman had also cried.
He hadn’t exactly put his dad on a pedestal because, in addition to being his father, his dad was also an asshole. Always wheeling and dealing. Always playing mind games. But the bottom line was he was still his dad. And Belle had still been his mom. In those days, Roman had had her on a pedestal. That had been before the harping, before the constant flood of criticism. When he still had respect for her.
But it all changed that day.
His dad had finally found him a few hours later, right here, next to the corral fence. He’d been neither apologetic nor remorseful. Just the opposite, in fact. He’d simply said to Roman if he told anyone what he’d seen in that truck, that he would ground him and sell his favorite horse, Lobo. After that, his father had walked away as if he’d just delivered some kind of decree that Roman would obey.
He didn’t.
That “decree” had made Roman feel dirty, as if he’d been the one to do something wrong. It hadn’t been fair, and in those days, Roman still believed in fairness.
It’d taken a week for him to build up the courage, but Roman had finally gone to Belle to tell her. He had waited until she was alone in her rose garden, and even though he’d fumbled with what he was saying, Roman had spelled it out for her.
Her husband was cheating on her with a woman—a girl, really—who probably wasn’t old enough to vote. And not only that, he’d threatened Roman into keeping his secret. A secret that was twisting and tearing his insides apart as only bad secrets could.
His mother hadn’t even looked at him the whole time he was talking. She’d kept clipping those roses, kept placing the flowers in a perfect, flat row on the basket looped over her arm. No tears, no denials, no falling apart as he had feared she would. She simply said the words that still echoed in his head.
“Go inside and wash up, Roman. Your hands are filthy.”
Even now, her reaction stunned him, and he’d tried to repeat what he’d told her, in case she hadn’t understood. But she had. When her watery blue eyes had finally met his, Roman had seen it all. She not only knew about her husband’s cheating, but she also wasn’t going to do anything about it.
He’d gone to his room and cried again.
The last tears he had ever shed.
Roman had tried to make sense of it. Hard to do that with his thirteen-year-old’s mind. And he hadn’t wanted to tell Garrett, his big brother, because he had known that Garrett would confront their dad. Garrett was the good guy even back then. He would have confronted their father, who would have given him a punishment equal to or possibly worse than the threats he’d issued to Roman, and it wouldn’t have made any difference.
Belle would have condoned the cheating with her silence.
Maybe his mother hadn’t wanted to give up being a Granger. Maybe all of this—the house, ranch and money—meant more to her than her self-respect. Maybe she’d just been too weak to walk out of the marriage.
Whatever it was, Roman had lost respect for her that day, too. And for his father. Because his dad had indeed grounded him and sold Lobo.
Roman hadn’t expected Belle to go to his father and tell him what he’d said. But obviously she had, and she didn’t lift a finger to stop her husband from carrying through on his unfair threats. Then she’d tried to fix things by leaving him a picture of Lobo on his bed.
As if that would help.
It hadn’t. Not that day, anyway. But he’d kept the picture and looked at it from time to time. Still did. Because it was a reminder that things you loved could be snatched away. It was also a reminder, though, that there’d been something important enough in his life to love.
After that, Roman said fuck-you to fairness and to his mom and dad. He’d said fuck-you to a lot of things. And he had done that right here, standing at this very corral fence.
His father had continued the unfair shit for the next ten years before cancer claimed him. He’d made Roman the owner of the ranch when Garrett was the one who wanted it. Maybe that had been his father’s way of trying to pull Roman back into the family, but it hadn’t worked.
Ironic, though, that Tate had been the one to get Roman back here.
His father was probably laughing his butt off in the grave.
He was so deep in thought that he didn’t hear the footsteps until it was too late to duck for cover. But at least it wasn’t his mother. It was his cousin Lawson.
“Pretty, aren’t they?” he asked, tipping his head toward the horses. He walked to the fence, stood next to Roman.
They were the same age and looked more like brothers than cousins. On occasion, they’d raised hell together by drinking and making time with some of the more willing girls in Wrangler’s Creek.
“Garrett loves this place,” Lawson went on.
That caused Roman to look at his cousin. Because it sounded as if there was a “but” coming.
Roman cursed. “Please tell me Garrett’s not thinking about leaving here once Nicky and he get married.”
“No way. Nicky and her kid love it here, too, and you couldn’t get Garrett to move away if you stuck dynamite up his ass. There might be trouble coming, though.”
Hell. “What kind of trouble?”
He motioned to the back part of the ranch. “You know that land by the creek?”
With just that question, Roman got an inkling of what this was about. Because that land had been in dispute for more than six decades. It was an old family history lesson, but Roman’s great-grandfather, Zachariah Taylor Granger, or Z.T. as people called him, had a brother, Jerimiah, who was Lawson’s great-grandfather. Both Z.T. and his brother had built not only the town of Wrangler’s Creek but the ranch, as well. However, after a falling out, they’d split the land.
Except for about a hundred acres that, at the time, had been leased out to another rancher.
The lease had long since expired, and that meant the ownership of the land was in question, and it was a prized chunk of acreage to own because the creek coiled through it. Garrett needed the creek water to keep the ranch growing.
“Your brothers don’t even ranch their land,” Roman said, though he was certain Lawson needed no such reminder.
“That might change. Lucian is thinking about bringing in large herds.”
“Lucifer,” Roman grumbled.
Lawson didn’t object to the nickname for his oldest brother, especially since he was the one who’d given it to him. Roman’s family wasn’t the only ones on the outs with Jeremiah’s kin. Lawson had parted ways with his three brothers, as well. That was mostly due to Lucian. Roman was a badass novice compared to Lucian and the man’s cut-throat business tactics. Lucian and his brothers already had a huge ranching operation in another part of the county, but if they were looking to expand, they’d definitely be looking here.
“Did Lucian tell you this?” Roman asked.
Lawson shook his head. “Dylan.”
Another of Lawson’s brothers. Roman was a novice womanizer compared to Dylan, but at least he wouldn’t stab you in the back. Dylan fell into the lover rather than the fighter category.
“I’ve already told Garrett all of this,” Lawson went on, “but he’s not spreading the news just yet. Especially since it might not happen. Dylan’s trying to talk Lucian out of doing this.”
Okay, maybe Dylan had some fighter in him, after all.
“Tell Dylan thanks,” Roman said. It wasn’t thanks because of him but because of Garrett. This place did mean everything to his brother.
“I will. I’m seeing Dylan later this week. He’s coming into town to meet Mila for a drink.” And with that, Lawson walked away.
“Mila?” Roman cursed in pain when he moved too fast to catch up with Lawson.
When Roman did step in front of him, Lawson looked at him as if he didn’t understand what had to be a look of concern on Roman’s face. “A friend set them up on a blind date,” Lawson explained. “Of course, it’s not really blind because they know each other. Not well, though... Say, what the hell’s wrong with you? Are you about to keel over again from the pain?”
Roman took a moment to decide how to answer that. He took another moment to try to figure out why it bothered him that Mila was going on a date with his cousin. And it did bother him. There was no mistake about that. It bothered him because Dylan was a love-’em-and-leave-’em type.
Just like Roman.
And considering what Sophie had told him about Vita giving her a condom and Mila using a dating site, maybe she had decided to lose her virginity to Dylan.
Dylan would take it, too, because he wouldn’t care if he broke her heart in the process.
“Are you okay?” Lawson asked.
No. He wasn’t. Roman had to stop Mila from making a huge mistake.