The Cowboy's Secret Son. Trish Milburn

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she’d second-guessed every moment since she’d made it.

       She glanced at Evan, at his miniature cowboy boots and hat, the pint-size Wrangler jeans, and couldn’t help but smile despite her inner turmoil. When she’d told him they were taking a vacation to Texas, that he was going to attend Cowboy Camp for Kids, he’d transformed into a bouncing ball of joy and excitement. While other little boys his age were into Star Wars and anime cartoons, he loved the reruns of old Westerns. His favorite cartoon character was Woody from Toy Story. He thought horses were God’s greatest creation and believed everyone should have at least one.

       You couldn’t fight DNA.

       “You ready to go, kiddo?”

       Evan stopped midgallop. “Are we almost there?”

       She nodded and pointed across the field of wildflowers. “See that town?”

       “Yeah.”

       “That’s Blue Falls. The camp is just a few miles on the other side.”

       His face lit up so much Grace wouldn’t have been surprised if he started glowing. He raced to the car and was inside strapping on his seat belt by the time she managed to stand. She stared toward Blue Falls a bit longer, at the waterfalls that gave the town its name, the shimmer off the lake around which the town was built. Thousands of tourists flocked here each year, and all she wanted to do was turn around and leave it far behind.

       But this trip wasn’t about what she wanted. It was about what was best for her son.

       Her feet felt as if they were encased in wet, heavy concrete as she headed for the car. She placed her hand on her stomach as if the action would calm the nausea plaguing her.

       As she drove through Blue Falls, it felt familiar, and yet not. Some businesses she remembered from her youth were gone, others still there. She’d swear the same old coots were sitting out in front of the Primrose Café swapping probably the same old stories. The Blue Falls Music Hall had gotten a sorely needed facelift in the intervening years.

       Taking in the view of her hometown was a little like having an out-of-body experience. She wasn’t the same Grace Cameron who’d lived here before, but that didn’t keep a flood of old feelings from washing into every part of her body.

       Evan stretched toward the window as far as his seat belt would let him. “I don’t see any cowboys.” The disappointment in his tone made Grace want to laugh and cry at the same time.

       “Don’t worry, they’re around. A lot of these people are probably on vacation, like us.” No doubt here for the popular wildflower tours. The appearance of the bluebonnets in March of each year made people crazy for wildflowers.

       “Oh.”

       Grace looked at the faces they passed, too, searching for someone familiar.

       Searching for Nathan.

       For what seemed like the millionth time, she imagined all the ways he might respond when he found out he had a son. Shock. Disbelief. Anger. Probably all three. And he’d be entitled to each one.

       She shook her head. No sense in torturing herself with possibilities. She’d find out the reality soon enough.

       They waited at the last stoplight while a tour bus made the wide turn onto Main Street. The words Wildflower Tours stretched down the side of the bus, and little painted bluebonnets peeked out from around the letters. Grace wondered what it would be like to visit Blue Falls without any previous ties to the town or the people here.

       “The light’s green, Mom.”

       “Oops.” She reined in her wandering thoughts and proceeded through the intersection.

       They began the winding climb out of Blue Falls, and before she was ready—would she ever be ready?—they reached the Vista Hills Guest Ranch. Her palms grew sweaty against the steering wheel as she made the turn and started down the driveway lined with cedar and gnarled live oak trees.

       Panic threatened to overwhelm her. What was she doing here?

       She was here because Evan had a father.

       And Nathan had a son.

       Someday that relationship might be the most important one in the world—to her, at least.

       When she rounded the last curve that brought her within view of the heart of the ranch, she had to take a deep breath. She didn’t want Evan to sense how nervous she was. He might be only six, but he was observant and not easily fooled. As she pulled into a parking space next to the ranch office, Grace noticed a few other families with small children. They really were here for a vacation, to allow their kids a bit of cowboy fun. How she wished the days ahead would be that simple for her.

       She eyed the other guests, but from her vantage point she couldn’t tell if Laney and her daughter, Cheyenne, were among them. Grace didn’t know if she could have come here without Laney for moral support.

       “Mom, look! Horses!”

       Grace looked toward the barns and surrounding corrals, remembering their locations as if she’d been here only yesterday. Half a dozen horses stood in the fenced enclosure next to the stables, and two families were gathered there as their little ones climbed up the fence for a better view. She noticed a man in jeans and a cowboy hat inside the fence talking to the group, but from this distance she couldn’t tell if it was Nathan, one of his brothers, or an employee.

       “Can we go look at the horses?”

       “In a few minutes. We have to check in first.”

       “But, Mom!”

       “Honey, the horses aren’t going anywhere. You want to see our cabin, don’t you?”

       “Not as much as the horses.”

       The way he said it, all dramatic and pouty-faced, caused a laugh to escape her. Evan met her eyes in the rearview mirror, not at all amused.

       Grace shook her head as she got out of the car. If she gave Evan a couple of minutes, he’d forget being put out with her and move on to admiring something else.

       Evan’s boots clonked on the wooden front steps of the office, and Grace wondered if Nathan had looked like that when he was young. A full-grown cowboy in his mind but only a little boy in truth.

       With another deep breath, Grace opened the door and followed Evan inside.

       “Well, hello there, young man,” the older woman at the front desk said when she spotted Evan.

       “Hello. I’m here to be a cowboy.”

       Merline Teague laughed, totally unaware she was talking to her grandson. Grace’s throat went uncomfortably dry as she realized they’d just stepped beyond the point of no return.

       “Well, then, you’ve come to the right place. What’s your name, cowboy?”

       “Evan Cameron.”

       “Nice to meet you, Evan Cameron.”

      

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