Debra Clopton - Her Homecoming Cowboy

Whether the man was wonderful, she wasn’t so sure. Even if he was a good man, he’d have a lot to live up to.

“Annie Aunt, is this where he lives?” Leo asked, using the backward term of affection that he’d called her all his life.

“Yes. At least I think so. He’s going to be surprised when he meets you and finds out how much you know about him.”

He beamed proudly at her. “He’s the greatest bull rider in the whole wide world. He ain’t won the championship ’cause he always gets a bad draw on his bulls out there at the big national rodeo.”

She wasn’t sure about all of that, and really had no idea why the cowboy had never won the championship the five times he’d made the nationals.

The man was elite in his field whether he had or hadn’t. “You amaze me, Leo. I can tell you this—that’s one lucky cowboy to have you so crazy about him.”

Leo’s face twisted into a huge smile. “I’m so excited I could whoop!” he exclaimed, and proceeded to do exactly that by exploding with a loud whoop. “Gosh, Annie Aunt, it’s gonna be great!” Rocking his safety seat in his enthusiasm, he said, “He’s gonna like me. And since we’re gonna live in the same town, I bet he’ll teach me to ride bulls and rope—maybe even how to fish.”

Annie’s mouth went dry and the slow burn of indigestion spread across her chest. Leo’s expectations as a fan were huge. How would Colt Holden react to a little-boy fan, so infatuated with him?

Most important—how would he react when he knew he had a son?

* * *

Colt Holden stared at his brothers. They meant well, but right now the last thing he needed was their sympathy. Or their mothering.

“You aren’t sleeping at night.” Luke, his oldest brother, challenged him. The words echoed off the thick wooden paneling of the office and also Colt’s equally thick bad disposition. He scowled.

“I never said that. If this is some sort of intervention, you fellas need to back up.”

“Come on, Colt.” Jess, two years older than him, rammed a hand through his dark hair, worry in his blue eyes. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? You haven’t slept since the wreck. You’ve lost at least ten pounds, too. You’ve holed up out there and haven’t come away from the cabin since you got home.”

“You look bad on the outside and we’re afraid you look worse on the inside,” Luke finished. His brown eyes, so much like Colt’s, were solemn.

Colt rubbed the stubble on his chin with his good hand. He didn’t need to look in a mirror to know what he looked like. These days the less he looked in a mirror the better off he was. The contempt he felt for himself was almost too much to bear. And this sympathy—intervention—whatever you called it, wasn’t helping.

“You’ve got to rein this in,” Luke continued. “You’ve got to move forward.”

“Move forward.” Black emotion swept through Colt. “If this is what y’all called me about this morning, then I’ll be cuttin’ you loose. I just want to be left alone.”

“We get that,” Luke offered, his voice gentling. “But you have to pull yourself out of this hole you’re in. This isn’t going to bring anyone back or change what happened in that car wreck.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jess finished.

“That doesn’t help me sleep at night,” Colt growled. He was six years younger than Luke and two years younger than Jess. Since he was eight, when his mother left them and their home fell apart, his older brothers had been his heroes. They’d been the ones who’d provided for him and looked out for him when their parents hadn’t. They’d protected him as much as they could and offered as much love as two boys their age could offer. But he was all grown up now, and they couldn’t help him. No one could.

He wasn’t so sure God could help him at this point.

“You have to figure out a way past it,” Luke said. “Give it to God.”

Colt bolted straight out of the chair; every muscle in his strained back protested while his broken collarbone shot fire through him. It was pain he welcomed—pain he deserved.

Memories, like firebrands, seared into his soul. “Fellas, I can’t do this. Not now.” He headed for the door, escape all he could think about. Hell on earth had nothing on what he felt. Jess slid into his path as Luke came around the edge of the desk and flanked him.

“We talked with a specialist,” Luke said. “And he suggested some counseling—”

“I’m not—” Colt stared at his brothers. “I don’t need some guy with a Ph.D telling me I need to get over it.” He gritted the words out. They blew up like fireworks. “Do you think the family I wiped out cares whether I ‘get over it.’ No. They wish I’d had my head on straight that night. They wish I’d have pulled over ten minutes earlier when I realized I was drifting in and out of sleep while my boot remained hard and heavy on the gas pedal!”

“Colt—” Luke tried to break in but Colt cut him off.

“And how about their loved ones? They wish I’d have been off the road where I belonged when the family they loved—” He couldn’t voice it again. Couldn’t look it in the face again—why couldn’t his brothers get that? Some things just cut too deep.

His head pounding, he started for the door. Jess didn’t move. “Colt, we’re worried about you.”

He looked from one brother to the other. “Don’t y’all get it? Y’all can’t fix this. Nothing can.”

Luke laid his hand on Colt’s arm. “God can.”

Like a jagged blade, the words cut deep and ragged. Colt yanked his arm free. “I’d say it’s a little too late for that.” Two weeks ago he’d been racking up the points to compete in the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas in December. He’d been hauling hard across the country from rodeo to rodeo, maintaining his position as a top contender in the finals rodeo. He’d been road weary the night the drunk had swerved into him, sending him into the oncoming traffic, where his truck had hit a vehicle head-on.... Even thinking about it drove him crazy. And plunged him deeper into the murky pit he was in.

Stepping around Luke, he pushed violently on the door. It slammed open, banging against the building as it hit full force. Colt stormed outside onto the porch, fully intent on getting back to his isolated cabin, tucked into the woods at the back of their ranch.

Barreling down the steps, running as much from his thoughts as his brothers, he almost ran into the woman standing at the bottom of the steps. If she hadn’t stepped back, he would have taken her out.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, coming up short. “I didn’t see you.”

“It’s okay,” she assured him, studying him intently with wide eyes that looked pale lavender in the glaring sunlight. She moved her warm blond hair behind her ear and caught her breath. He’d obviously scared her. She was rail thin, and her clothes hung on her as if they were someone else’s.

Luke and Jess stepped up behind him on the porch, and her gaze flitted from him to each of them before landing back on him.

Colt stiffened, going on alert as wariness curled into a ball in the pit of his stomach. He’d learned over the last three weeks that when someone studied him like this, it wasn’t a good thing.

“Hi,” Luke said, taking control of the situation. “I’m Luke Holden. These are my brothers—Jess, and the guy who almost ran you over is Colt. What can we do for you?”

“Well, I’m looking for...” She paused, her gaze probing his. “You’re Colt Holden. The bull rider?” she asked, as if she wasn’t sure from the way he looked.

Colt rubbed his three-day-old beard. Did he look that bad? He glanced down at himself. His own jeans hung loosely on his hips, showing that Jess was right—he had lost weight. And it didn’t take a look in the mirror for him to know he looked older and drawn. He felt every bit of it.