Texas Rebels: Falcon. Linda Warren

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Texas Rebels: Falcon - Linda Warren Mills & Boon Cherish

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I want to talk to you.”

      He took a sip of coffee. “Okay, what is it?”

      Eden scooted forward in her chair, her eyes eager. At times when he looked at her, he saw Leah. His daughter definitely favored her mother, but her personality was more like his and that’s what worried him.

      “I’ve been thinking. And don’t get all frowny face until I finish.”

      “I don’t get frowny face.”

      Eden rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I know you want me to go to Baylor. We visited the university and all, but I’d rather help Uncle Quincy with the paint horses. I love working with them, and why can’t I work on the ranch like everyone else? Why do I have to leave?”

       Because I want you to have the best of everything.

      Instead of saying that, he took a moment and tried to see this from her point of view. But he hit a brick wall.

      “You keep telling me how you’ll be eighteen soon and an adult, free to do what you want, go out with your friends and basically have the freedom that you keep saying I deny you. Well, if you stay here on the ranch, guess who’s going to be watching over you and dictating what you do and where you go?”

      “Ah, Dad.”

      “You’re going to college, Eden. That’s my bottom line.”

      She scooted even closer, her green eyes gleaming. “But listen to what I want to do. Uncle Quincy has this amazing paint. Her name is Dancing Cloud but we call her Dancer. She’s fast, Dad. Really fast. Uncle Quincy put some barrels up and I’ve been barrel racing her. Uncle Quincy says I’m good and that’s what I want to do. I want to stay on the ranch and rodeo like Uncle Paxton and Uncle Phoenix.”

      Falcon took a deep breath to keep words from spewing out. He counted to ten before he spoke. “You want to rodeo?”

      “Yeah, Dad. I can do it. I’m really good.”

      He shook his head, wondering if all parents had this much difficulty understanding their children. Why wasn’t she jumping at the chance to go to college? Wasn’t that every girl’s dream? He had to be careful or he’d lose her in a way he hadn’t even thought about.

      “Why aren’t you saying anything?” His daughter was impatient.

      He could put his foot down and say no, but he had to listen to her ideas. She was older now and he had to learn to be lenient. Or at least try.

      “School has just started, so why don’t you get your rodeo card and attend some weekend rodeos to see how you like it and see how this amazing horse does before we go changing plans.”

      She jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, Daddy.”

      “Wait a minute. I have some rules.”

      She sank back in her chair. “What else is new?”

      He ignored the sarcasm. “First, you’re not pulling a horse trailer all over the country. Second, you’re not going alone. An adult has to go with you. I’ll make the first two rodeos and we’ll see if this horse performs like you think she can. You may not even like it.”

      “I will, Dad. I know I will.”

      He held up a finger. “But I’m still adamant about college. I’m going to insist that you go one year to see what life is like away from home with kids your own age. Deal?”

      She thought about it for a minute. “But if I’m doing really good barrel racing why would I want to go to college?”

      He cocked an eyebrow and he was sure he had a frowny face.

      “All right.” She slid out of her chair. “I know I’m not going to win this one, but you’ll see. I’m going to be the best barrel racer ever.”

      His brother Jude, and Jude’s son, Zane, came into the room and loaded their plates.

      “Zane, if you’re coming with me to school you better hurry,” Eden said.

      Zane stuffed scrambled eggs and bacon onto a biscuit. His grandma handed him a glass of orange juice and he downed it quickly, then followed his cousin to the door.

      “I’m in a foul mood so you have to ride in the backseat,” Eden told Zane.

      “Eden...”

      “Okay, he can ride in the front seat, but he has to be quiet.”

      “Eden...”

      “Okay. Okay. He can talk, but only ten words.”

      “Eden, this is a good way to put a stop to all talk of barrel racing. There’s no need to be rude to Zane.”

      Zane winked at him. “Don’t worry, Uncle Falcon. I have so much dirt on her I can make her sweat like a pig.”

      “Really?”

      “Yeah. You know...” Eden grabbed him by his backpack and pulled him out the door.

      “Isn’t it great they get along so well?” Jude took a seat across from him.

      “They get along fine,” their mother said. “They’re both good kids. Eden’s trying to spread her wings and Zane is a sweet teddy bear.”

      “Said like a doting grandmother,” Falcon replied, getting to his feet.

      “What’s the schedule today?” Jude asked. “We still have that load of young bulls to go to Dripping Springs and, of course, fences to mend.”

      Falcon took his plate to the sink. “You and Jericho can take the bulls and the rest of us can fix the fence on the McCray side. We don’t want one animal to get through. It’s too risky. We work on that fence all the time, but the McCrays always find a way to break it.”

      “They only do that to get back at us since the incident with Egan, but I do not want one of you to interact with them unless they go too far, and you know what I mean by that.” Their mother made her views clear and they knew what she meant—to use their own judgment when dealing with the McCrays. But she never wanted her sons to back down and they knew that, too.

      Falcon glanced out the window to see his daughter backing out of her parking spot. She was avidly talking to Zane, who had earphones on, blocking her out. They really were good friends, but with Eden’s attitude it was hard to see that sometimes. She was very protective of her cousin, though. His daughter was a typical emotional teenager and her moods changed constantly. There was no way he’d ever be able to forget Leah. He saw her every day in their daughter.

      A time to remember...

      LEAH REBEL HAD SPENT years trying to deal with what she’d done, but each year a layer of guilt was added to her soul. There was no way to justify her actions, so she lived with an enormous burden of heartache and pain. At times she tried to explain to herself what had happened and she always fell short of making it convincing. If she couldn’t make herself believe she wasn’t a terrible person, how could she make Falcon believe?

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