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Claiming his son was out of the question. Casey understood that. But the urge to see the boy just once, to know his name, how he looked, and where he lived, had lit a fire inside him—a fire that was burning him alive.
The asking price for a forbidden copy of the adoption records didn’t surprise him. The person supplying the documents was taking a risk. Casey had the money, and he would pay it.
Then what? Would he take the next step and track down the boy’s family? Would he share the information with Val, who was dead set against the venture?
Maybe it was time to go back to his bachelor condo in Tucson and handle the business from there. Val had asked him not to involve her in any way. And if he remained here, she was bound to guess what he was doing and to get emotional about it. But he couldn’t help hoping that she would change her mind, and they would find their son together.
He would decide in the morning.
Val whimpered in her sleep and nestled against him. He pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her hair.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AFTER A FEW SLEEPLESS HOURS, TESS WAS UP AT FIRST LIGHT.YESTERDAY’Sclothes lay heaped on the rug. She pulled them on, jammed her feet into her boots, and raced outside.
The morning air that struck her face was rich with sage smoke from the fresh bundle that lay on the rock. Ruben stood next to Quicksand’s pen. As he saw her, his stoic face relaxed into a smile.
“Come and look,” he said.
Quicksand, his head down, was munching on the hay that had been forked into his pen. As Tess approached, he raised his head, snorted, and pawed the earth in warning.
“It’s all right, boy.” A few more steps took Tess up to the rails. The massive bull lunged at her and stopped short—a warning. Tess jumped back. “Well, at least he doesn’t seem scared anymore.”
“The sage smoke seems to calm him. Maybe we can use it in handling and training him.”
“Brock said he’s been chute trained. But when they took him to a rodeo, he wouldn’t buck.”
“He was probably scared of the noise and the crowd,” Ruben said. “After we’ve bucked him a few times with the dummy, we could take him to one of the small-town rodeos. If he does all right there, we can move him to a bigger audience. I know we need to get him making money, but we can’t rush him.”
“Yes, I agree.”
But what if, in spite of all her hopes, Quicksand continued to freeze in front of a crowd?
They did have a little time. The PBR season would end after the May finals and start again in the fall. But the traditional rodeo season would continue all summer long and end with the National Finals Rodeo in December. There’d be plenty of rodeos left for Quicksand—if they could just get him bucking.
But right now, Quicksand was about to face another test. Someone, probably Maria, who was starting breakfast, had just let the dog out of the patio.
Hearing voices, the young shepherd mix came trotting around the house. Ears pricked and tail wagging, he pranced up to the pen where Quicksand was eating.
With a bellow, the bull lunged at the dog, crashing against the rails in an effort to get at the animal he saw as an enemy. The startled dog, tail between his legs, slunk back around the corner of the house.
“I’ll be damned!” Tess swore. “Ruben, if your song did that for Quicksand, maybe you should sing it for me.”
Ruben chuckled and shook his head. “I told you, the song and the sage were only to calm his fear. What you just saw was the real bull.”
* * *
After morning chores, the ranch family gathered for a breakfast of tortillas, beans with bacon, and fried eggs. Tess was still in a celebratory mood, but that changed when Casey hobbled out of the hallway on his crutch. A protective brace was laced over his sneaker and around his ankle. Dressed for the road, he was carrying his duffel bag, which he tossed onto the couch. Val, her movie-star face an unreadable mask, followed a moment later.
“You can’t be leaving us so soon, Casey.” Tess pulled out the empty chair next to her, scrambling for some way to delay him. “Sit down. Have some breakfast.”
“Sorry—I need to get this ankle checked by a doctor. I think I may have put too much weight on it.”
That was a lame excuse if Tess had ever heard one. He and Val must’ve had words. But over what? Her problems with his work were old news. There had to be something else—something her sister wasn’t telling her.
“Come on,” she said. “Tucson’s a long drive, and there’s not much to eat along the way. Besides, we’ll be bucking Quicksand with the dummy this morning. I’ll need you here to tell me what you think of him and give me suggestions. You can go later if you need to.”
“And you can’t miss tonight, Casey!” Lexie rose out of her chair. “Val and I are planning a party—a house-burning party!”
