The Coltons: Fisher, Ryder & Quinn: Soldier's Secret Child
It was going to be a good day, she thought.
Inside the house, T.J., Joe and Sara were gathered around the XBOX in the family room, where as promised, T.J. was teaching them the cheat codes.
As the women did every day, they set up breakfast, ate and after they finished, Jewel announced to the kids that they had a special treat for them that day—Clay Colton was bringing over a mare to keep at the ranch for them to ride and care for.
T.J. and Joe had been at work all week in anticipation of the mare’s arrival. They had cleaned up some of the stalls in one of the smaller barns on the property, placing fresh-smelling hay in one stall and setting up the other one to hold tack, feed and other necessities.
As the ragtag group walked to a corral on the property, the younger children were in front of the pack, followed by T.J., Joe and Sara.
Macy, Jewel and Ana took up spots at the side of the group, keeping an eye on the youngest as they approached the corral. Clay Colton waited astride his large roan stallion Crockett. A smaller palomino mare stood beside him and his horse.
Clay was all cowboy, she thought, admiring his easy seat on the saddle and the facility with which he swung off the immense mount. He ground tethered Crockett and then walked the mare over toward them.
“Mornin’,” he said and tipped his white Stetson. Longish black hair peeked from beneath the hat and his eyes were a vivid blue against the deep tan of his skin.
“Mornin’, Clay. We can’t thank you enough for bringing the mare for the children,” Jewel said.
“My pleasure. How about I show Joe and T.J. how to handle her for the younger kids?”
“That would be great, Clay. It’ll be a big relief for both Jewel and me if the boys can control her. What’s her name?” Macy asked.
Clay pushed his hat back a bit, exposing more of his face as he waved the two boys over. “Gentlemen, come on over and meet Papa’s Poppy.”
T.J. and Joe scrambled up and over the split rail corral fence, stood by Clay as he took the saddle, blanket, bit and reins off the mare. The horse stood by calmly as he did so and then later as Clay showed the boys how to place all the equipment back on.
T.J. already had a fairly good knowledge of what to do since he and his dad used to ride together. He seemed hesitant at first, but then Clay said, “That’s the way, T.J. Good job.”
His uncertainty seemed to fade then and before long, he and Joe had ridden the mare around the corral a time or two. The younger children were calling out eagerly to have a turn as well.
Joe slipped off the horse and handed the reins to T.J.
“Me? What am I supposed to do now?”
Clay clapped him on the back. “Keep her under control while Joe gets one of your friends up on her. She’s gentle. You can handle it.”
T.J. took a big gulp, but did as Clay asked and before long, the two boys were giving the remaining children their turns on the mare, Clay hovering nearby protectively until it was clear that T.J. and Joe were in charge of the situation.
He stepped over to where she stood with Jewel and Ana and said, “This will work out well for you, I think. Papa’s Poppy is the gentlest mare I have.”
“I insist on paying for her, Clay,” Jewel said, facing him.
Clay shrugged and the fabric of his western shirt stretched tight against shoulders made broad by years of ranch work. “She was an injured stray I found a year or so ago. All scratched up from a fight with some prickly poppy she got tangled up in.”
“Hence the name,” she said.
“Yep and to be honest, you’d be helping me out by taking her. I need room for a new stud I want to buy for the Bar None.”
“Are there many strays in the area, Clay?” Jewel asked as she leaned on the top rail of the fence, vigilantly keeping an eye on the children.
“Occasionally. Why do you ask?” he said and pulled off his hat, wiped at a line of sweat with a bandanna.
Jewel dragged a hand through the short strands of her light brown hair, suddenly uneasy. “I’ve heard noises in the night.”
“Me, too,” Ana chimed in. “It sounds like a baby crying or maybe a small animal in pain.”
“Yes, exactly,” Jewel confirmed. “Not all the time, just every now and then.”
Clay jammed his white Stetson back on his head and glanced in the direction of the two boys, squinting against the sun as he did so. “I haven’t heard anything up my way, but I can swing by one night and check it out for you.”
He motioned with a work-roughened hand to the two boys. “They’ll make fine ranch hands. Remind me of Ryder and myself when we were kids. We loved being around the horses more than anything.”
Macy couldn’t miss the wistfulness in his voice as Clay spoke of his younger brother. Much like T.J., Ryder had begun getting into trouble as a teen, but then it had gotten progressively worse until Ryder had ended up in jail for smuggling aliens across the border.
“Have you heard from your brother lately?” she asked, wondering if Clay had relented from his stance to disavow his troubled brother.
“I wrote to him, but the mail came back as undeliverable.” A hard set entered his jaw and his bright blue eyes lost the happy gleam from watching the children.
“Maybe your brother was moved?” Ana offered, laying a gentle hand on Clay’s arm.
He nodded and smiled stiffly. “Maybe, Miss Ana. I just hope it’s not too late to make amends with my little brother. I’m going to try to call someone at the prison to see what’s happening with him.”
“I think you’re right to put the past behind you and try to make things right with Ryder,” Jewel added, but then stepped away to help the boys with one of the younger children who seemed to be afraid of the mare.
Ana went over as well to help since the child was Mexican and still learning English, leaving Macy alone with Clay.
“You’ll work things out with your brother,” she said, trying to offer comfort. Clay was a good man and she hated to see him upset.
“I hope so. It’s never too late to make amends with the people from our past, Macy. You should understand that more than some,” he said, surprising her.
She examined his face, searching for the meaning behind his words. Wondering if he somehow knew about her and Fisher. About T.J.
“I do understand,” she said, waiting for him to say more so that she could confirm the worst of her fears, but he didn’t. Instead, he shouted out his farewell to everyone, walked over to his stallion and climbed up into his saddle.
“Take good care of her, men. I’ll be back later to show you how to groom her, handle the feeding and keep the stall clean,” he added with a wave to the boys before leaving.
Both T.J. and Joe straightened higher at his comment. She hadn’t been wrong in wanting to marry Jericho to give her son a man’s presence in his life. It was obvious from just this slight interaction that both boys had responded positively to the added responsibility and to being treated as adults.
Small steps. Positive ones.
She should be grateful for that, but Clay’s words rang in her head as she stepped over to help Jewel and Ana with the rest of the children.
It’s never too late to make amends with the people from our past.
As much as she hoped that he was right, she also prayed that she would not have to make amends before T.J. was ready to handle it.
Chapter 3
The mare had been a wonderful addition to their program at the ranch, Macy thought as she watched the teens working together in the stalls and adjacent corral.
She and Jewel had discussed how to incorporate the responsibilities for the mare into a program for the children. They had broken them up into rotating teams that took turns with the mare’s care and feeding. In addition, she worked with the tweens and teens, including T.J. and Joe, to improve how they handled the mare. Setting up a series of small tests, she encouraged each of the teens until they were all able to take turns not only outfitting and riding the mare, but watching and helping the younger children with the horse.
When T.J. and Joe weren’t with the groups, they were off finishing up some of the other chores around the ranch, including a ride with Clay Colton to attempt to track down the elusive sounds that Jewel was still hearing at night. But they returned from that expedition with little to show for it.
She was grateful that T.J. and Joe seemed to have bonded so quickly and so well. As the eldest amongst the children at the ranch, the others seemed to look up to them, in particular the tweens and Sara, the petite young teen who had recently joined them.
It wasn’t unusual to see the three of them together at meals and as they took an afternoon break at the pool during the heat of the day, much as they were doing today.
As she watched them frolicking in the cool waters, Jewel stepped up beside her.
“Things seem to be better,” her friend said.
“I had hopes for it, but this is more than I expected so quickly.”
“Let’s take a break.” Jewel gestured to a small table located on the covered courtyard where someone had placed a pitcher with iced tea and glasses. A few feet away from the table in the middle of the courtyard was a fountain. The sounds of the running water combined with the scents from the riot of flowers surrounding the courtyard were always calming.
With a quick nod, she sat at the table and poured tea into the two glasses, all the time keeping an eye on what was going on in the pool.
T.J. and Joe led the younger children in a game of Marco Polo, while Sara sat by the side, arms wrapped around herself in a slightly defensive stance.
“We’ve still got to get Sara to open up a bit,” she said.
Jewel picked up her glass and took a sip. “She’s been better since the boys got here, but she hasn’t been willing to say much during our one-on-one sessions.”
“Nothing about the bruises or why she ran away?” she asked, thinking of the purpling marks and fingerprints that had been on the girl’s arms on the day she had arrived at the ranch a few weeks ago.
“Nothing and you know our rule.”
“We wait until our charge is ready to talk. Do you have another session scheduled with her anytime soon?” She sipped her tea, sighed as the cool liquid slid down her heat parched throat. She hadn’t realized just how hot and dry it had been as she and the teens had worked with the mare all morning.
“I have a group session with the older children this afternoon. I was thinking to ask T.J. and Joe to join us.”
She thought of T.J.’s anger at his dad’s passing and of Joe’s adoption by the Coltons. Certainly both of the boys had things to unload and considering how well the group had been getting along, it seemed like a good idea.
“Both T.J. and Joe might have things they want to talk about. I’d ask to sit in, but I know T.J. might be more willing to open up if I’m not around.”
Jewel laid a hand on hers as it rested on the table, shifting her iced tea back and forth in the condensation from the glass. “I know that hurts, but you’re right. T.J. will likely be more open if you’re not around. But I’ll keep you posted about what happens. This way you’ll know how to deal with it.”
Macy took hold of Jewel’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Thanks. I’d appreciate anything you can say without violating doctor/patient confidentiality.”
“Deal,” she confirmed and then they sat back and took a moment just to enjoy the peacefulness of the midday break.
Macy was working with two of the younger children when she noticed the teens walking out of the living room where Jewel often held the group therapy sessions.
The two tween boys had their arms around each other’s shoulders and their heads together, talking.
T.J., Joe and Sara followed behind closely, but then split away, walking through the great space and then out to the pool area. They kept on walking beyond the tract of grass with the swing set and Macy assumed T.J. and Joe were off to do the last of their afternoon chores.
Once in the great room, the tween boys headed immediately to the XBOX and she could hear them carrying on about the tricks Joe and T.J. had taught them.
She smiled at the worship of the older boys, but her smile faded as she noted Jewel’s face. Excusing herself from the memory game, but urging the children to continue on their own, she approached her boss.
“You look wiped.”
“Mark finally opened up today. Told the other kids about how his dad used to beat him.”
Both of them suspected that Mark had been physically abused from his manner when he had first come to the ranch, but having him admit it was a good step to helping him deal with the trauma.
“How about Sara?” she wondered, thinking that maybe Mark’s revelation would have encouraged the young girl to tell her own story.
Jewel shook her head. “Nothing. She just sat there, arms wrapped around herself. Silent.”
“Sorry to hear that, but she is coming out of her shell. She seems to talk to T.J. and Joe a lot.”
“That’s a good start. Where are they?” Jewel asked as she scanned the great room and saw no sign of them.
“I saw them heading out back, probably to finish up their chores before the weekend. I’ll go see what they’re up to,” she said and at her boss’s cue of approval, she went in search of them.
As she suspected, they were at the corral, but not working. The two boys sat on the top rail of the fence, Sara between them, head bowed down.
She was about to approach to make sure everything was okay, but then T.J. brought his hand up and patted Sara’s back in a familiar gesture. She had seen Tim do it more than once when comforting his young son and it twisted her heartstrings that Tim would not see the man T.J. would become.
Which was followed by a wave of guilt as she realized that maybe Fisher never would either if she didn’t tell him about his son. If she didn’t make amends for what had happened in the past between them.
Certain that the teens were better off without her presence at that moment, she returned to the ranch house and the game of memory she had left earlier.
But even then she experienced no relief as the children matched up the first few letters.
F.
S.
I.
Certainly someone somewhere was telling her it was time to consider what she would do about Fisher.
Fisher sat across from his dad in Miss Sue’s, enjoying the last of his ribs and delicious fries.
It wasn’t as if he and his dad couldn’t have made themselves dinner. Since their mom had left, the three men had learned how to provide for themselves, but with it being Friday night and all, they needed a treat.
Plus, he hadn’t wanted to waste time cooking when he could be spending it talking to his dad, especially since his time in Esperanza was ticking away quickly. Just a few more weeks and he would head back to the military.
As he ran a fry through the ketchup and ate the last piece of tender meat on the rib, the cowbell clanged over the door. A trio walked in—Macy’s son with another boy and a teen girl.
They stopped at the door to wait to be seated. As the hostess showed them to a booth, they passed by.
“Evening, Mr. Yates,” T.J. said to his dad and nodded at Fisher in greeting as well.
“Evening, T.J. Are these friends of yours?” Buck Yates asked, flicking his large hand in the direction of the other teens with T.J.
“Yes, sir, they are. Joe and Sara, meet Mr. Yates. He’s the sheriff’s dad and this is the sheriff’s brother—Captain Yates.”
Joe and Sara shook hands with the men and then the trio excused themselves.
“Polite young man,” Fisher said, slightly surprised given the accounts provided by his brother about T.J.’s antics.
“He’s a good kid, just a little angry ever since his pa died,” Buck said and pushed away his empty plate.
“It must have been rough,” he said, imagining how difficult it would have been on both Macy and T.J. His own brother had suffered greatly as well since Tim had been his lifelong best friend.
Luckily, Jericho had been Macy’s best friend also and had been by her side during the long months that Tim had battled cancer. At least Macy hadn’t been alone, but it didn’t stop the sudden clenching of his gut that maybe he could have been there for her, as well.
He drove that thought away quickly. Being away from Macy was up there on the list of reasons he had joined the military.
Maybe the top reason, he mused, thinking back to the night that had forever sealed the course of his life.
Chapter 4
Esperanza, Texas
Eighteen years earlier
Jericho stood at the plate, bat held high. His hips shifting back and forth, his body relaxed. He waited for the pitch.
Jericho’s team was down by one. Tim Ward was on third base and another player on second with two men out. It would be the last inning unless they were able to get some runs on the board.
Fisher sat beside his dad on the bleacher and called out encouragement. “You can do it, Jericho.”
His yell was followed by Macy’s from where she sat a few feet away and a row down from them. “Go-o-o, Jericho-o. One little hit.”
She sat beside Jericho’s latest girlfriend. He couldn’t remember her name because Jericho never kept a girl for too long, much like him. The Yates boys were love ’em and leave ’em kinds of guys, he thought.
Macy, on the other hand, wasn’t a love ’em and leave ’em type of girl. Until recently, everyone thought she and Tim were a forever kind of thing what with them going off to college together. Except that in the past few weeks, Macy and Tim didn’t seem to be a thing anymore, which meant that Tim had loved her and left her. That struck him as downright stupid.
The crack of the bat pulled his attention away from thoughts of Macy.
Jericho had lined a rocket of a hit up the first baseline and deep into the corner of the stadium. Tim would score easily to tie the game, but as people got up on the bleachers and started cheering, it was clear the ball was deep enough to maybe score the man from second.
The outfielder picked up the ball and with all his might sent it flying home, but the man from second was already well on his way to the plate. The ball sailed past the catcher as the man slid into home to win the game.
The wild cheering and revelry of the hometown crowd spurred on the players who ran out onto the field to celebrate the victory. After a few moments of exuberant celebration, both the players and the crowd finally quieted down and the players formed a line to shake hands with the other team.
As they did so, the crowd began to disperse from the stands.
“I’ll see you at home, son,” his dad said, clapped him on the back and waved at Jericho on the field.
He jumped down from the bleachers and weaved through the crowd of well-wishers until he reached Jericho, whose new girlfriend was already plastered to his hip.
Tim and Macy stood across from one another awkwardly, clearly no longer a forever kind of thing and surprisingly, he was kind of glad about that.
“Hey, big bro,” Jericho said as he joined them. “Tim, Cindy and I are heading to Bill’s for a post-baseball bash. Want to come hang with us?”
All three of them, but not Macy? he wondered and shot a glance at her as she stood there, hands laced primly together in front of her.
“No thanks, lil’ bro. Just came down to say congrats on winning the game.”
“We’ve gotta run. What about you, Mace?” Jericho said, either clearly oblivious to the tension between his two friends or choosing to ignore it.
“I’ve got…things to do,” she replied, peeking up at him from the corner of her eye.
“We’re history, then,” Jericho said and left with Cindy bumping hips with him on one side and Tim on the other.
He jammed the tips of his fingers into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on the heels of his boots, hesitant now that he and Macy were alone. “So what’s so important for you to have to do on a Friday night?”
A blast of pink brightened her cheeks before she straightened her shoulders and faced him head on, determination in her brown-eyed gaze. “Well, since it’s early, I was thinking of maybe grabbing a bite at Miss Sue’s. Are you hungry?” After she asked, she worried her bottom lip with her teeth, belying her nervousness around him.
He was hungry, but not necessarily for anything other than a taste of that luscious bottom lip. Years earlier he’d had a taste during what was supposed to be a chaste holiday kiss, but he had underestimated the potency of her kiss. That encounter had made him realize that like Tim, he had been smitten by tomboy Macy Ward.
“I’m hungry, but won’t Tim mind, you know…you and me. Friday night. Dinner.”
She cocked her head at him defiantly. “What I do is no longer any of Tim’s concern. So, dinner?”
Interesting, he thought, but quickly offered her his arm. “Dinner it is. My treat.”
He wanted to lick the plate of the last remnants of Miss Sue’s famous apple cobbler, but his dad had raised him to be a gentleman so he held back.
Macy must have seen the hunger that remained in his gaze since she offered up the last few bites of the pie on her plate. “You can finish mine.”
His mouth watered at the site of those extra pieces, but he shook his head. “I couldn’t take the last of your dessert.”
“Go ahead. I need to watch my figure anyway,” she said, moving aside his plate and pushing hers before him.
Fisher dug into the cobbler, but after he swallowed a bite, he said, “Seems to me you’re worrying for nothing, Mace.”
Truth be told, she had a wonderful figure. Trim and strong, but with womanly curves in all the right places. As he thought about that, he shifted in his seat as his jeans tightened painfully. He had imagined those curves next to him once too often since that fateful kiss.
“Something wrong, Fisher?” she asked, innocently unaware of the effect she had on him.
“Not at all,” he lied, quickly finished the cobbler and paid the tab.
With his hand on the small of her back, he walked her out to the sidewalk where they stood there for a moment, enjoying the early summer night. Dusk was just settling in, bringing with it the cooler night air and the soft intimate glow of the streetlights along Main Street.
“Thank you for dinner,” Macy said, glad for not only the fine food, but his company. He had always been a distant fourth musketeer to their little group and tonight she had been able to enjoy his presence without interference.
As he turned to look at her, she noticed the gleam in his green eyes. The kind of gleam that kicked her heart up into a hurried little beat. She might have been going out with Tim for as long as she could remember, but she could still recognize when a man found her attractive. And considering her breakup with Tim, it was a welcome balm that someone as attractive as Fisher appeared to be interested.
He smiled, his teeth white against his tanned skin and his dark five o’clock shadow. He was the kind of man who needed to shave more than twice a day. He was a man, she reminded herself, trying to ignore the pull of her attraction to him. Nothing like Jericho and Tim, even though Fisher was only two years older. There had always been a maturity and intensity about him that had set him apart from the others.
“It’s early still,” he said, the tones of his voice a soft murmur in the coming quiet of the night.
“It is,” she said.
He leaned toward her and a lock of nearly jet-black hair fell forward onto his forehead as he said, “Too early to call it a night, don’t you think?”
She met his gaze, glittering brightly with interest, the color like new spring grass. Kicking up that erratic beat of her heart and making her want to reach up and brush away that wild errant lock of hair.