started over. “Mr. Holden, you don’t know this, but you are the daddy of my six-year-old nephew, Leo. Surprise!”
Groaning, she bit her lip and nibbled on that straightforward approach. It was blunt. But it was the truth.
Six years. That was a long time to keep something as important as this hidden. Whether the rowdy cowboy had wanted to know or not, he should have been told.
That ended today.
Annie had decided today was the last day she was going to be responsible for such a significant piece of her nephew’s life. Having made this monumental decision hadn’t made it easy for her. Oh, no. She’d be lying if she claimed that. It had been down-right hard; in fact, God had actually gotten a little rough with her to get her attention!
She tried again to squelch the need to turn and run. Dread so heavy she could barely breathe settled over her as she pulled her old clunker onto the gravel drive of the Holden Ranch. Squinting against the bright July sunshine, she battled with where to go—the house or the office. The small metal office sat closer to the road and had three trucks sitting in front of it, making it the logical choice.
Continuing to nibble at her lip she studied the simple office building of the Holden Ranch, and then the white ranch house in the distance. The sense of dread wrapped tighter around her, suffocating her...
You have nowhere else to go.
Ha! She could find a way to make it—
This is for Leo.
She closed her eyes.
Everything was for her little Leo.
“Is this where he lives?”
Leo’s question interrupted her thoughts. Pulling herself together, Annie turned to look at her six-year-old nephew. He was sitting in his safety chair in the backseat of the car, beaming with expectations that terrified her.
What if this guy was a jerk?
Even though Leo thought they were going to meet Colt Holden, the man he most admired in all the world, Leo had no idea what this meeting meant to his future.
Forcing a smile and ignoring the rolling of her stomach, she answered, “Yes, I believe it is. This is a great day, isn’t it?” Sick as she felt she couldn’t help being excited for Leo—after all, he was meeting his hero today.
He idolized pro-bull rider Colt Holden. Up until her death a year ago, her sister had told Leo all kinds of bedtime stories about the bull rider. They watched him when he was on television competing in pro-bull-riding events. And Jennifer had posted pictures of Colt Holden all over Leo’s room.
Annie’s mind filled with images of the bull rider’s dazzling smile in many poses and his gritty concentration when he was riding the fierce bulls.
There was no denying that the cowboy was awe-inspiring in that regard. And no wonder that Leo, clueless about who his father was, had grown up adoring the cowboy his mother had painted as the most wonderful man in the world. This should have given Annie a little heads-up on the matter. But it hadn’t.
Whether the man was wonderful, she wasn’t so sure. Even if he was a good man, he’d have a lot to live up to.
“Annie Aunt, is this where he lives?” Leo asked, using the backward term of affection that he’d called her all his life.
“Yes. At least I think so. He’s going to be surprised when he meets you and finds out how much you know about him.”
He beamed proudly at her. “He’s the greatest bull rider in the whole wide world. He ain’t won the championship ’cause he always gets a bad draw on his bulls out there at the big national rodeo.”
She wasn’t sure about all of that, and really had no idea why the cowboy had never won the championship the five times he’d made the nationals.
The man was elite in his field whether he had or hadn’t. “You amaze me, Leo. I can tell you this—that’s one lucky cowboy to have you so crazy about him.”
Leo’s face twisted into a huge smile. “I’m so excited I could whoop!” he exclaimed, and proceeded to do exactly that by exploding with a loud whoop. “Gosh, Annie Aunt, it’s gonna be great!” Rocking his safety seat in his enthusiasm, he said, “He’s gonna like me. And since we’re gonna live in the same town, I bet he’ll teach me to ride bulls and rope—maybe even how to fish.”
Annie’s mouth went dry and the slow burn of indigestion spread across her chest. Leo’s expectations as a fan were huge. How would Colt Holden react to a little-boy fan, so infatuated with him?
Most important—how would he react when he knew he had a son?
* * *
Colt Holden stared at his brothers. They meant well, but right now the last thing he needed was their sympathy. Or their mothering.
“You aren’t sleeping at night.” Luke, his oldest brother, challenged him. The words echoed off the thick wooden paneling of the office and also Colt’s equally thick bad disposition. He scowled.
“I never said that. If this is some sort of intervention, you fellas need to back up.”
“Come on, Colt.” Jess, two years older than him, rammed a hand through his dark hair, worry in his blue eyes. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? You haven’t slept since the wreck. You’ve lost at least ten pounds, too. You’ve holed up out there and haven’t come away from the cabin since you got home.”
“You look bad on the outside and we’re afraid you look worse on the inside,” Luke finished. His brown eyes, so much like Colt’s, were solemn.
Colt rubbed the stubble on his chin with his good hand. He didn’t need to look in a mirror to know what he looked like. These days the less he looked in a mirror the better off he was. The contempt he felt for himself was almost too much to bear. And this sympathy—intervention—whatever you called it, wasn’t helping.
“You’ve got to rein this in,” Luke continued. “You’ve got to move forward.”
“Move forward.” Black emotion swept through Colt. “If this is what y’all called me about this morning, then I’ll be cuttin’ you loose. I just want to be left alone.”
“We get that,” Luke offered, his voice gentling. “But you have to pull yourself out of this hole you’re in. This isn’t going to bring anyone back or change what happened in that car wreck.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Jess finished.
“That doesn’t help me sleep at night,” Colt growled. He was six years younger than Luke and two years younger than Jess. Since he was eight, when his mother left them and their home fell apart, his older brothers had been his heroes. They’d been the ones who’d provided for him and looked out for him when their parents hadn’t. They’d protected him as much as they could and offered as much love as two boys their age could offer. But he was all grown up now, and they couldn’t help him. No one could.
He wasn’t so sure God could help him at this point.
“You
