the door to his truck, tossing his hard hat and fluorescent-green vest onto the passenger seat. His aim was good—or bad, depending on one’s perspective. The hat hit a stack of papers and hand tools, knocking them onto the floorboard. He didn’t bother straightening the mess.
I’m a father. Could be a father, he amended. He’d find out for sure when the test results came back in roughly a week. As Mariana mentioned, he’d receive an email with a link to the lab’s secure website where he could log in and view the results.
One email, and his life could be forever changed in ways he had only begun to imagine.
Jacob lived twenty minutes from the drill site and twenty-five minutes from Baron Energies’ headquarters in Dallas. Convenient. He’d bought the house last year, planning on being promoted from the field to an executive position. That had yet to happen.
Brock refused to consider transferring Jacob. Not until he’d “gained more experience.” In truth, Brock had been waiting and hoping for Jet, his biological son, to take an interest in the company. Jet had finally started coming around, leaving Jacob even further out in the cold.
Every proposal he presented, and he did it often, was immediately shot down with Brock proclaiming in a loud voice, “There will be no alternate energy division. Not as long as I’m in charge. We Barons are oil people.”
How anyone could look at the world today and not recognize the value of alternate energy baffled Jacob. Oil was a limited resource. Wind and sun weren’t. For at least the next billion years.
Out of frustration and anger, Jacob had returned to rodeoing this past spring, seeking an outlet for his pent-up energy. No pun intended. It had been a great stress reliever and, at first, fun. Then he’d started winning, and—this was a surprise—Brock had taken notice.
The higher Jacob’s ranking climbed, the more frequent talks he and his adoptive father engaged in about Jacob’s future with the company. Brock was still determined that Jet take over one day—now it was alongside his sister Lizzie. But he was listening to, if not entirely agreeing with, Jacob’s ideas for expansion.
To that end, Jacob spent every weekend on the road or in the air. It had paid off. He was a hairbreadth away from qualifying for the National Finals Rodeo in December. Brock was thrilled. He himself had won a few titles back in the day. Carly, too. Jacob would be the first of his sons to follow in his footsteps.
Maybe follow. How would a son affect Jacob’s career? Both of his careers?
Visitation or custody? Mariana Snow hadn’t been specific as to which. He still thought it a little strange that she didn’t want full custody herself. If she hadn’t told Jacob, he might never have known he had a son. She could have easily complied with her sister’s wishes, and Jacob would have been none the wiser. It was enough to give him pause.
Rather than head directly home, he drove to the family ranch. The Roughneck was a little out of the way but worth it. Days like this one, he needed to climb on the back of a horse. In his opinion, there was no better way to work off stress or unload a heavy mind.
It was well past dark when he arrived. That wouldn’t be a problem. Floodlights were scattered throughout the barn and arena. He could ride for an hour and still be home by eight.
He maneuvered his truck into the long driveway, noting the darkened farm store as he passed it. His adoptive sisters Savannah and Carly ran the store, which offered fresh produce and homemade pies. The two had recently embarked on a search for their biological mother, Delia Baron, with only dead ends and cold trails to show for their efforts.
Jacob didn’t need to search for his biological father. He knew right where Oscar Burke resided: the Federal Correctional Institute in Beaumont. Minimum security, as if that counted for anything. This February, he’d be up for parole. The third time. Had he not been involved in an attack against a guard—an innocent bystander, he claimed; the perpetrator, witnesses had testified—he’d be out by now.
Jacob pulled in next to the barn and parked. The main lights were on. Since he was the only one who ever rode at night, that meant Luke Nobel, the Roughneck’s ranch manager and Carly’s fiancé, was dealing with a problem.
Jacob found Luke in the barn, his forearms propped on a stall door and staring worriedly at the horse inside.
“What’s wrong?”
“Colic.”
The smile Jacob would normally expect to see on Luke’s face was absent.
“Not good.”
For a few minutes they discussed the mare’s symptoms and what steps Luke had taken.
“If she isn’t better in an hour, I’m calling the vet.”
The large chestnut stood with her head hanging low between her front legs and her eyes filled with misery.
“You sure you want to wait that long? This horse is one of Brock’s favorites.”
Luke shrugged. “I’ll keep a close watch on her.” If necessary, he’d climb into the stall with the mare. “You going for a ride?” He glanced pointedly at the change of clothes and pair of boots in Jacob’s hands.
“Thinking of taking Zeus out for a spin.”
The gelding was the horse Jacob had used for calf roping and steer wrestling, two rodeo events he enjoyed but had mostly stopped competing in. His four twelve-hour shifts at the drill site left him with just enough time on the weekends to get to whatever rodeo he was competing in. Trailering a horse would be too time-consuming. As a result, Jacob focused solely on bucking events, with the occasional steer wrestling thrown in.
“I’d join you if I could,” Luke said.
“You have your priorities.”
The two were good friends and had been for years. They’d competed against each other on the circuit until Luke retired from rodeoing to care for his daughter who, Jacob just that moment realized, was about the same age as Cody. Now, Luke was marrying Jacob’s sister Carly.
Fatherhood and family life suited his friend. Would it suit Jacob? What kind of father would he be? Lord knows, Oscar Burke was a poor excuse and no role model. And Brock, while better, treated Jacob and Daniel differently from his own children.
Not once had he ever told Jacob that he loved him. Might be because he didn’t.
For a lot of years, that hurt. No more. Not that he’d admit.
“What’s on your mind?” Luke asked, giving Jacob the once-over.
Was he that transparent? “Just because I’m going for a ride doesn’t mean I’m wrestling with a problem.”
Luke shrugged. “Except you are.”
Okay, he was that transparent. “Do you miss rodeoing?”
“Sure I do. Once in a while.”
“Would you go back if you could?”
“Probably getting a little too long in the tooth.”
Jacob understood. At twenty-eight, the majority
