Page 46 of Disarming The Rancher

“But he was right and my reputation for being a pain in the backside always showed up ahead of me. I had to stuff my pride in my back pocket and go back to him to beg for my old job,” he continued. “He hired me back and put me to work right alongside him. I kept my mouth closed and watched how he handled people. Learned a lot from that man.”

“That’s a great story, Buck,” Raleigh said and the others agreed.

“I’ve been around this business a long time. Maybe I can get through to him,” he said. “Plus, I need to get him to ease up on Jake a little bit. The kid needs a break. He refused to come down to breakfast, which isn’t like him. Now, he’s off somewhere on his own. He needs to know we care.”

Raleigh hoped someone could reach Kenny. The more she thought about it, the more she realized his bad judgment and quick temper probably had a lot to do with what he’d been going through at home. Being away all the time would strain any relationship, even a solid one. Kenny wasn’t helping matters by spending too much time with his groupies on the road. Being unfaithful would wreck even the strongest marriage.

“I really hope you can work some magic with him,” she said to Buck. “And I agree that he’s been too hard on Jake.”

“No one would argue there,” Tim said. “What started out as good-natured ribbing has gone too far. We can do better.”

Buck gave a nod before heading outside.

Raleigh grabbed her coffee cup and walked over to the pot for a refill. Out the window, she saw Kenny pacing near the barn while on his cell. He immediately waved Buck away as he approached. Instead of leaving, Buck walked over to the nearest tree, crossed his arms over his chest, and then leaned back like he had all the time in the world.

She smiled. Patience won wars.

Raleigh excused herself, coffee in hand, and headed to the computer in the Marshall’s office. She couldn’t help but think it was a shame he had this huge house and no one to share it with after his wife died.

It seemed like such a waste not to fill this place with family, especially on holidays. Raleigh remembered the Christmas Eve she’d spent at the ranch when her nana got stuck in Houston with a freak ice storm. When she thought of warmth and holiday and family, it was the smells that had come Lucia Firebrand’s kitchen she remembered. Cookies baking in one oven and a pig roasting in another. Mom Firebrand was at their massive island rolling out homemade pasta before dropping it into massive pots of boiling water on the stovetop, her red sauce simmering.

She sat down at the Marshall’s desk, thinking those meals should have happened here. She tapped the space bar on the keyboard, and the spreadsheet filled the screen.

“Do you have a minute?” Mom Firebrand stood at the doorway. Worry lines etched her forehead.

“For you? Always,” Raleigh said without hesitation. “Where’s the baby?”

“Her mother took her for a walk.” Mom Firebrand didn’t take a seat. Instead, she paced and twisted her hands together. The bad sign caused Raleigh to sit up a little straighter.

“I need to talk to someone, and you’ve always been like a daughter, so I hope…” Mom Firebrand threw her hands up in the air. She signed the cross and blew out a breath. “Brax is not my son.” She immediately whirled around and mumbled a familiar prayer. “But he is my son in here.” She put her hand over her heart. “He’s mine in every sense of the word and I’ve been keeping this terrible secret from him because I was afraid of losing him.”

Raleigh needed a minute to recover from the bomb that had just been dropped on her. She didn’t want to know this about Brax and she certainly shouldn’t know before he did. Her mind snapped to the file. She instinctively reached for the drawer.

“It’s not there. I took it.” Mom Firebrand gasped. “He didn’t see it, did he?”

“No. But he deserves to know.” Raleigh dug deep to find a calm voice while panic welled up from the inside. Brax not a Firebrand? Everything about him was tied to being a cattle rancher…and a Firebrand.

“I should have told him, but how?” Mom Firebrand sank into a chair and it was like all the life force had been drained from her body. Her bones seemed to melt into the chair and, for the first time, Raleigh could see all the wrinkles in the older woman’s face. “How do you tell someone you’ve loved and cared for and held in your arms since he was a tiny baby that he’s not your son? Because the moment he was placed in my arms he was mine.”

“I know you did what you thought was right for him and it’s easy to see how much you love him, but wouldn’t you want to know if you were adopted?” She couldn’t bring herself to scold Mom Firebrand and it wasn’t Raleigh’s place to. Her heart broke for the conflict adoptive parents must feel.

Mom Firebrand shot a confused look. And then recognition dawned.

“He’s not mine but he’s a Firebrand,” she clarified.

Raleigh regretted mentioning it. She was walking into a sinkhole of information she didn’t feel she had a right to know. Mom Firebrand should be having this conversation with Brax instead of her and it felt all kinds of wrong to be sitting in this chair where Brax should be.

“He’s the same age as Corbin, so my husband paid a guy to change the birth certificate,” Mom Firebrand continued.

“I’m honestly at a loss for words,” Raleigh said.

“About what?” Brax stepped into the doorframe.

Mom Firebrand winced and let out a yelp before scurrying out of the room. She signed the cross as she flew past Brax. The sounds of her hastening footsteps echoed down the hall.

Brax didn’t budge. He stood there, staring at Raleigh when she wished he would go after his mother.

“At a loss for words about what?” he repeated.