father is worse than no father at all.”
Herb’s frown deepened. “But Zeke has a financial obligation to his son.”
She met Herb’s worried gaze. “Legally, yes, but I’m relieving him of that. I’m financially capable of raising this child and, despite my right to child support, I couldn’t in good conscience take money from a man who won’t be participating in the process.”
Rosie and Herb greeted that statement with a long silence. Tess wished circumstances could be different for these two wonderful people. But this baby was a gift and she refused to let him become an obligation to anyone, least of all the man who’d unintentionally fathered him.
Finally, Rosie took a deep breath. “I can understand why you feel that way. But we’d love to be part of the process, so I hope you’ll bring that sweet baby over to see us now and then.”
“I will.” She reached over and squeezed Rosie’s arm. “I promise.”
After that, Rosie demonstrated her conversational skills, because the baby and Zeke weren’t mentioned again. Tess’s admiration for Rosie’s social abilities grew as they spent the rest of the meal discussing various teaching methods. They talked about the differences and similarities between Tess’s primary students and the teens that Rosie and Herb had worked with, both as foster parents and founders of Thunder Mountain Academy.
Immersed in her favorite subject, Tess lost track of time as they lingered over dessert. Rosie had made two pies: rhubarb and cherry. Herb was the only one eating the cherry pie as Tess and Rosie each enjoyed a generous slice of the rhubarb topped with vanilla ice cream. Judging from Rosie’s comment to Zeke before he left, he was a fan of this particular flavor, too. But Rosie never brought it up.
Tess helped with the dishes before bidding Rosie and Herb good-night. She was touched by their willingness to accept whatever plan she had for this baby. Her own parents weren’t likely to react the same way and she dreaded the confrontation when she told them. But she didn’t have to worry about that tonight.
After a satisfying meal with two people who made her feel at home, she was more than ready for a good night’s sleep. Her last thought was of Zeke’s full beard. In a way, it helped that he’d grown one because he looked so different from the man she’d tumbled into bed with back in April. She could more easily pretend he was a stranger, one she would never see again after tomorrow.
Zeke woke at dawn. Early morning light filtered through the leaves of a tree outside the window and he enjoyed watching the patterns created on the west wall. Once Damon and Phil had installed new flooring in the two smaller bedrooms, he’d move into one of them. He’d be sorry to leave the master bedroom, though.
Climbing out of bed, he headed into the bathroom. He rummaged in his shaving kit for a pair of manicure scissors and clipped off most of his beard. Then he took a razor to what was left.
A hot shower relieved some of the tension in his neck and shoulders, but it came back the minute he dried off. He dressed in his nicest shirt and jeans, and polished his boots. His hat got a good brushing, too. He’d let it get dusty and that wouldn’t do for what he had in mind.
Damon and Phil would arrive in a couple of hours with little Sophie, but they’d have to manage the baby without his help. He wrote them a quick note explaining that he had an errand to run at Thunder Mountain and couldn’t be sure when he’d be back. If all went well, he might be gone all day.
Grabbing his keys, he locked up the house and walked out to his truck. It could use a wash, but he didn’t have the time. He used his hand to clean off the passenger seat before walking around to the driver’s side and sliding in behind the wheel.
On the way to Thunder Mountain, he had the same feeling in the pit of his stomach that he always got right before he stepped into the arena for a performance. So he followed the same technique and, several deep breaths later, he was calmer.
The academy kids were busy down at the barn taking care of morning chores when he pulled up in front of the house. He saw Cade and Herb with them, supervising. Cade looked up and waved. By now he probably knew the score. Herb would have filled him in.
Zeke lifted a hand in acknowledgment before mounting the steps to the porch. He rapped on the screen door and opened it while calling out a greeting. For anyone who’d lived at the ranch, that was all Rosie and Herb required. The door was nearly always open for their family.
Zeke had never let himself fully accept being a part of Herb and Rosie’s family. Counting on something to stay the same was a recipe for disappointment. While the other guys called Rosie and Herb “Mom and Dad,” he didn’t. They referred to the ranch as “home” but he hadn’t made the mistake of labeling it that way. Even so, he enjoyed the privilege of walking into the house whenever he wanted.
“In the kitchen!” Rosie responded.
He found her predictable breakfast routine a comfort, but he’d never taken that for granted, either. He could tell some of the other guys did.
When he walked into the kitchen, it was just Rosie and Sharon, the cook they’d hired to help fix meals for the academy students. She was a middle-aged lady with short brown hair and a great laugh. No Tess.
“Hey, Zeke.” Rosie turned from the stove to look at him. “Where’s your beard?”
“Shaved it off.” He glanced over at Sharon and touched the brim of his hat. “Howdy, ma’am.”
“Howdy, Zeke. I was growing partial to that beard.”
“It was starting to itch. Can I help you two with anything?”
Rosie handed him a bowl and a whisk. “You can scramble these eggs. Sharon and I have already delivered the food to the rec hall, so she’s ready to leave. Herb will be back from the barn shortly.”
“See you two later.” The cook grabbed her tote bag out of the storeroom.
“Bye, Sharon,” Rosie said. “Thanks!”
Zeke waited until she went out the front door. “Tess isn’t up yet?”
“Not yet.” Rosie eyed him. “You can start scrambling those eggs anytime now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He set the bowl on the counter and started in on them. “She told you, right?”
“She did. And you’d better give me those eggs before you beat them to death.”
He handed over the bowl and Rosie poured the mixture into the frying pan. Bacon sizzled in another pan and country fries were cooking away in a third. Normally he’d be salivating for one of Rosie’s famous breakfasts, but he wasn’t even slightly hungry.
“Zeke, please don’t pace.”
“Sorry.” He hadn’t realized he was doing it.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you, ma’am.”
“Well, I would, so please pour me a cup and sit down at
