The Cowgirl Rides Away (Bluebonnet Texas Book 1) (20 page)

Her eyes widened and her chin lifted, and her miserable, resigned expression was replaced with a glimmer of her usual attitude. "I am still your mother, young man," she carefully enunciated each word.

"Maybe instead of turning a blind eye to Ty and Rhea's problems, you should have tried to help him."

"You mean like your girlfriend did?"

Zack paused and then said, "Yeah. Rhea's outta here, by the way, in case you missed it. Daddy told her to get the hell off Boudreaux land or go to jail. And God love him, at least Ty tried to make his marriage work. Tim's a good dad, too, by the way, in case you didn't notice. He tries, but Rene doesn't exactly make it easy. I'm sorry we're not…perfect—" he waved a hand in her direction as he stepped closer, "—or whatever the hell idealized family you had in mind, but I do
not
appreciate you saying that only one of us turned out worth a damn.

"And I don't understand half of what you and Dad were fighting about downstairs. All that crap about something always being someone's fault. Just like I don't understand why you're so hard on him, Momma. Can you answer me that one?" He stood in front of her waiting for a response of some sort. "Can you?"

Her mouth worked and her jaw quivered but finally she shook her head no. Her eyes were red again. Great, now he'd made her cry, but he didn't stop.

"Why did you try to make me give up Travis?"

"People talk—"

"So what!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, then laughed, but not because it was funny. Because of the irony of it all. She'd tired to make him give up a child that wasn't his…because people would talk. "So what?!" he said again, softer this time. God she'd probably disown him for shouting at her like he'd done, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. "Now lemme tell you something
you
don't understand! The joke's on you, Momma. Travis isn't even your grandson. He's not even mine. So there! How do you like—"

"Zachary Kendall Boudreaux!" came his father's roar from behind him.

He froze. He'd never even heard him come in the house, or up the stairs. He spun around to face his father, only to find himself being pulled into a hug that shoved all the air out of his lungs.

"You stop it. You stop it right now," his dad kept saying as he patted his back. "That's enough. That's enough of that."

Just then, the phone began to ring again.

His father pushed him to a sitting position on the bed, then held out his hand. "Give it to me, Maggie."

She slapped it against the palm of his hand. Lips tighter than ever, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Zachary, is that true?"

His dad spoke before he could. "Not a word until I get off this phone." He turned toward the door, the phone to his ear, and listened for a while. "Your Aunt Susie is on her way down there… Yes, she knows. Tell your mother I'll be there this evening, no matter what."

He hung up and turned to face them both. "This all ends now."

"I've almost finished packing."

"That's on you. You don't have to leave. Not now; not ever, but you do have to listen. You have spent the last seventeen years punishing me for my mistakes. Mistakes I've apologized for
repeatedly
. Mistakes I can't ever make up for. But you don't get to punish my daughter. Not anymore."

"Dad?" Zack queried, a part of him hoping his father wasn't saying what he thought his father had just said.

"Delaney's mother is
dying,
Maggie
, dying!
She's
alone
. It's bad enough she hasn't had me in her life—" His face scrunched up like he might have been about to cry, and right then, Zack wished he were anywhere else but in his parents' bedroom.

"That's why you want a divorce?" he asked, looking from one parent to another in complete disbelief.

"I don't want a divorce," his father said, "but I don't want to have to choose between my wife and my daughter, so if it comes down to it, then I will."

"You told Susie," Maggie choked out, two neatly folded shirts clutched against her chest.

"I had to, and she's on her way to the hospital to be with Delaney until I can get there."

"Maybe I should leave you two alone." Zack stood, unsure of how to angle around his father and get the hell out of there.

His dad stepped out of the way and said, "You can go and wait in my study."

Shit!

***

The scent of cigars and leather didn't comfort Zack as he collapsed on the oxblood couch in his father's study and waited, wondering how big of a new one his dad was going to rip him.

When Jerrod joined him, he closed the door and silently crossed the room to pour them each a drink.

His blood slowed as he accepted a tumbler of scotch. His father went back to his desk and collapsed in the oversized leather chair with a sigh.

"So tell me about Travis."

He took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start. "Marina—" her name felt rusty on his tongue, awkward, "—she was Puerto Rican. She came from a real nice family, her father's big into politics and so is her husband."

"So you
do
stay in touch with her?"

Zack nodded. "We dated but she, um, she knew she was going back and she didn't want to get involved. Said it would only hurt us both."

"You loved her." Jerrod silently dug in his desk drawer, then came to sit beside Zack. He set his own glass on the maple coffee table and threw three thick white envelopes down beside it. Most had begun to yellow but one looked newish.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I did."

"Go on."

"I found her. We were supposed to go to church Sunday morning—we never even slept together—"

"You don't have to sleep with someone to love them, just like sleeping with them doesn't mean you love them."

"She was late. She's never late. You could practically set your watch by her, but she was late."

"She was—"

"Raped," Zack finished with a nod. "She was a mess when I found her and they never caught the man who did it. When she found out she was pregnant, she freaked. She's Catholic so abortion was out. She didn't want to give the baby to strangers. She could have...she could have done a black market adoption so he'd never know where he came from or anything, but she didn't want to do that either. We just tried to do the fairest thing we could think of, so I put my name on the birth certificate and brought Travis home."

Zack forced himself to take a long, slow sip of his scotch, letting it burn its way down. Despite his earlier words to Jessa, he felt relieved to have the truth out there. More relieved than he'd imagined. He knew his dad wouldn't tell anyone, and he'd bet money his mother wouldn't either. "I don't want anyone to know. Travis doesn't deserve—"

Jerrod nodded in apparent understanding. "Then you came home and your mom tried to make you give him up before anyone found out. I wish you'd told me, but I understand why you didn't."

"I was scared."

Daddy patted his shoulder and they both sat back against the couch cushions, glasses in hand. "I guess it's no surprise when I say things have a way of coming back to haunt you. Promise me you'll tell him someday."

"I dunno—"

"I love your mother," his father interrupted. "God knows how some days…that's not true. But I do and you don't just toss thirty-some-odd years of marriage out the window." He sighed, his attention on his tumbler. "I'm not proud of what I did and I won't make excuses for my actions. I'm telling you this in hopes that it'll help you understand your mother, and why I think you need to seriously consider telling Travis the truth someday."

He nodded again, though he had no idea how he'd tell Travis the truth. "You cheated. That's what made Momma so bitter," Zack said as he looked over at his father.

With a grimace, Jerrod handed him a small stack of photos he'd pulled out of one of the envelopes.

Understanding only seemed to breed more confusion as Zack set his glass down. He thumbed through with a soft, "Holy shit," at the first one. A baby in a christening gown with a head full of bright red hair just like his. "She's a redhead."

"So's her momma. Sad, but I run true to form."

He scowled at his father. "Dad!"

"That was tacky, I'm sorry. It's the bourbon."

He thumbed through them, pausing at one of a baby girl in a yellow creeper on a pink gingham blanket. She was a chubby Buddha baby. The last one in the stack was of a tall, slender redhead with long curly hair holding the baby in her christening gown. "Who is she?"

"Bridgette Kennedy. I don't think you know her. And that's your sister, Delaney, in her arms."

"No wonder Mom's so pissed off."

"I promised your mother I'd never see her, but circumstances have changed, which I guess you picked up on. I'm going to go stay at your Aunt Susie's for a while until we sort this out. I'm tired of the emotional blackmail. I'm tired of settling, and I want to see Delaney. I need to see her and she needs me."

"You're not really gonna—"

"I honestly can't say, Zachary," his father whispered, the expression on his face grim. "I don't know what I'll do if I have to choose between your mother and my daughter."

As deeply as Zack disliked his mother at that moment, as angry as he was, he couldn't imagine their lives without her. He didn't like the prospect of their new reality and he couldn't imagine his dad living on the ranch without her.

And it would be her who had to go, if they did indeed get a divorce.

Chapter Nineteen
Jessa

It was a nine-hour drive to the Texas-New Mexico border. It was a twenty-four hour drive home, give or take, and that was only if we drove straight through. The upside was, Kane and I had plenty of time to clear the air before I had to deal with the rest of my family; the downside was Kane and I had plenty of time to clear the air.

Kane did me the courtesy of waiting until we were out of San Antonio before he started talking. "Leg bothering you?"

The hand massaging my knee stopped. I'd done it again. "No."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Let me know when you want me to drive." I grabbed one of his hoodies from the back and pillowed it under my head. Night was a long way off and I was nowhere near tired, but I'd always done my share of the driving and that meant napping when you can. The problem was my brain wouldn't shut itself off.

"I meant Texas. Do you want to talk about why you were in—"

"No, Kane."

"Well, for what it's worth, you do look better than you did the last time I saw you."

"That's not saying much considering the last time you saw me I was confined to a hospital bed with my leg in traction."

"You know what I mean, Jessalyn."

We rode for a while longer as Gary Allen and Johnny Cash blasted out of the speakers and kept the silence from becoming unbearable. I knew it was too good to last and eventually Kane would want to talk. We stopped in Kerrville for gas and something to drink. No sooner had we gotten back on I-10 and Kane had set the cruise control than he started talking.

"I was eleven when your mama ran off with your dad."

I sipped my drink and waited, my eyes on the sunny day passing by my window at seventy-five miles an hour.

"She was the first girl to ever kiss me and then, three months later, she ran off with your daddy."

That got my attention and I leaned my head back to stare. "She kissed you?"

"On the cheek!" He threw me a quick grin. "All I remembered for the longest time were her breasts. And that she was beautiful."

"Jesus, Kane. TMI?"

"I was a very impressionable young man, and that was the best and worst summer of my life."

Squeezing my eyes shut, I resigned myself to listening.

"She kissed me and then she ran away with some rodeo cowboy. I loved her and she broke my heart, broke her mother's heart, and her grandmother's heart, too."

"I'm sorry." He seemed genuinely sad. Sadder than I'd ever seen or heard him.

"She looked so much like you…except she laughed more. I guess you get all that seriousness from your daddy."

He'd loved my mom and she'd broken his heart by running off with Daddy and having me. Right then I didn't know whether to laugh or what. I scrubbed at my face and focused on the scenery, at a loss for what to say or ask next.

"What was my grandmother's name?"

"Jillian."

"Is she still alive?"

"Gone," he practically grunted. "Passed away years ago."

"So,
Granny,
your grandmother, was pretty much it?"

"There's some aunts, including my mom, and some cousins."

"What was her name?
Your
granny. The one who died?" Against my will, my anger softened, diluted by curiosity and our shared history.

"Josephine Maines."

"And she was…help me out here."

"Jillian's mother.

"How did she die?"

He chuckled a bit. "With a cigar in her hand. Damn near burned down the house."

"She sounds like a real character," I bit out, unable to help myself.

"I'm sorry. Granny Jo asked me to keep an eye on you after I found out you were riding the circuit. She's the one who asked me to keep my mouth shut. She made me swear, Jessa."

And John Kane never broke a promise.

"You still should have told me, Kane."

"Granny was afraid you'd tell your dad, so was I."

"If you'd asked me not to, I wouldn't have."

"Maybe not on purpose, but you know how Marlene pushes your buttons."

"That may be true, but you—" I paused to find the right words, "—you cheated me out of a chance to know my great-grandmother."

The silence that followed felt long and heavy but was probably only a minute.

"I know."

"Did my mom—" it seemed so weird being able to ask someone about her. I'd spent my whole life wondering and now I had my own personal source to fill me in about her right here next me to and I wasn't sure what to ask, "—did she have brothers and sisters?"

"Three younger sisters. One died of breast cancer but the other two are still alive."