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“Toben?” Renata’s voice was concerned. “I’m really sorry. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I didn’t mean to get you all riled up.”
He shook his head, taking his time before he turned to face them. When he did, he tried his best to keep his emotions in check. “You didn’t do a thing, Renata. I did.”
“Now, hold on a minute,” Deacon interrupted. “Normally I’d agree with you.”
“She should have told you,” Archer joined in. “She’s in the wrong. Plain and simple.”
Toben took heart in their support. And let his anger rise.
Deacon read the change in his posture and said, “But what you said yesterday was right—you’ve got to keep a cool head. If you’re wanting to get close to this boy, you can’t make an enemy out of hi
s mother.”
Toben nodded. He knew this. But, damn, he was angry. Furious. At her. And himself.
“I hate to pry here but—”
“I’m her son’s father,” Toben said, answering Renata’s question before she could ask it. “Poppy White’s boy? He’s my son.” Pride welled within him.
Renata’s eyes went round. “Oh...well...” She blinked, the play of emotions on her face almost comical. “You...you didn’t know?”
“She didn’t tell him,” Deacon offered.
Renata slumped back against the counter.
“Wrong. Plain and simple,” Archer repeated, smacking his hat against his thigh. “Gotta get back to the refuge. Think before you act.” He nodded at Toben, grabbed two pastries and headed back to his truck.
“I don’t know what to say,” Renata said. “Does Tandy know?”
Toben shook his head. He hadn’t told his twin sister. He couldn’t. She’d be just as devastated as he was—but for her own reasons. Besides, he didn’t want everyone involved in his business. Having Archer, Deacon and Renata involved was three people too many in his book. “I’m trying to keep some kind of lid on it for now. Hard enough trying to figure things out on my own without getting the family involved.”
“Guess that means I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut?” she asked. “Did you tell Archer that?”
Toben shook his head. “Figured he wouldn’t say much, considering the topic.”
Renata nodded. “Probably right. If it’s not horses or Eden and the girls, he doesn’t have much to say.”
He glanced at the wall clock. “Daylight’s a-wasting.”
“If you’ve got something to do, I can get started without you,” Deacon offered.
His first instinct was to go. He didn’t know who Poppy had in her life or what role he played in Rowdy’s. But if the man had been around for a while, then Toben couldn’t let himself get all fired up about it—in front of Rowdy. “I’m not sure now’s the right time for a visit,” he admitted. “I don’t want to press my luck or do something stupid in the process.”
“I hate to agree with Archer, but...‘think before you act’ is pretty good advice.” Renata hugged him again. “And congratulations. You might not be ready for it yet, but the family’s going to welcome your boy with open arms.”
She was right. The Boones believed in family. And Rowdy was family.
He and Deacon headed out shortly afterward, intent on repairing one of the windmills. A tornado had skirted the ranch a couple of weeks back and the strong winds had damaged two of the blades, throwing off the spin and affecting the entire mechanism. With drought concerns on the rise, the windmill needed to be working so the livestock had plenty of water.
By the time the sun was high, they’d replaced the two blades. They ate a late lunch in the mill’s long shadow, barely a word said between them.
It took effort, but Toben kept all thoughts of Poppy at bay. Rowdy not so much. He wanted to do something with his son—but what? That was the question. How did he make up for six years in a couple of days? It would take time to earn the boy’s trust—he knew that. But patience had never been one of his strengths. If he had it his way, he and Rowdy would jump right into it—father and son. Something he figured Poppy wasn’t ready for.
He pushed aside her image, the lingering sound of her laughter as they’d sat on her porch enjoying pie. He loaded his toolbox into the back of the truck, frustrated all over again.
They headed to the vaccination shed next. Toben’s uncle Teddy, owner of the entire ranch, had plans to vaccinate the cattle next week. It was no small undertaking, something that required working chutes, sturdy pens and all hands on deck. Safety was a top priority on the ranch—for the animals and the employees. A faulty chute or damaged pen could cause disaster. Between him and Deacon, they tested every fence, chute and gate latch that afternoon.
“I’m calling it,” Deacon said, pouring water over the back of his head.
