Page 66 of The Cowboy Comes Home

Tucker drew back sharply. “No. I didn’t know. Hunting you for what?”

Kane took another deep breath. “Killing my father. My father, the cop.”

Tucker’s eyes widened, and he could feel his jaw drop. Words were beyond him.

“For twelve years I ran, believing I’d done it.”

“Your father…he was a chief here, too, wasn’t he?”

“He was. But…on that day I’d just found out wasn’t really my father. Not my biological one, anyway. And I got so mad I pushed him away from me. Hard. And ran. Then later I heard he’d been hit by a truck in the street…right where I’d shoved him. So I kept running. I was young and scared and had nightmares about what would happen if they caught me. And nightmares about the man I’d loved all my life, under false pretenses. Or so I thought.”

“They weren’t false?”

“Not in the ways that mattered. But at that age…let’s just say I let my fear and anger corrupt all my memories, until I had things lodged in my brain as reality that had in fact never really happened at all. So I kept running. Then Sean put that brain of his to work and figured out what I remembered wasn’t what happened, that it hadn’t been my fault, that that memory was logistically impossible.”

Tucker just stared at the man. “Damn.”

“Yeah. I was too young and stupid to realize what being a father really was, and that Steven Highwater had been more of a father to me than a lot of kids ever had. He never treated me any differently than the others, he took care of me, encouraged me, and…”

“Did all the things you’re doing for other kids now?” Tucker suggested.

“Yeah,” Kane said, smiling now. “Seems like the best thing I could do, to…repay him.” Then, holding Tucker’s gaze, he said with an emotion so clearly genuine it tugged at him, “I’m just saying that…having a father like that and losing him, no matter how, sucks. In a big way. But I finally figured out the truth, that if you loved them and they loved you, the best thing you can do in their honor is just keep going. Try and make them proud of you, and hope that somehow they know it.”

Someone called out Kane’s name, telling him his sister-in-law was here for that interview he’d promised. It took Tucker a moment to realize that meant Lily Highwater.

“Good luck with that,” he muttered.

“Already poured my guts out with her a couple of years ago. But then, you know all about how that works.”

Kane was grinning now, and Tucker laughingly swore at him to shut up. The now-famous singer-songwriter turned to go, but then looked back.

“If you’ve got Emily on your side, you’re a lucky man.”

Then he was gone, and Tucker just stood there, not quite sure how he felt about…anything.

Chapter Thirty-One

When she sawTucker on the steps of the inn, scanning the crowd, Emily winced inwardly because she had no doubts who he was looking for. She wondered how mad he was. Then he vanished into the gathering, which was growing every minute, until she wondered where on earth they were parking all the cars.

She stood on the edge, somewhat apart from the main throng. She didn’t like being hemmed in, so she made sure she had some room. Because there surely wasn’t any in the middle of all this. She’d never find him in this mess. Would that be a good thing, right now? After she’d pretty much set him up for that talk with Kane?

She sucked in a deep breath. No point in trying to dodge him. They’d have it out sooner or later, and better here with a crowd gathered to keep it civil.

“Lobo.” The dog looked up at her, alert and ready. “Tucker,” she said.

The dog immediately started searching, lifting his nose into what had to be a chaotic gathering of various human scents. The canine brain and its ability to sort that much out and zero in never ceased to amaze her.

“Find,” she ordered.

She didn’t have to add anything else, because the dog knew what to do from there. He darted into the crowd as if he already knew where he was headed. And apparently he did. In less time than it would have taken her to get fifty feet in this shoulder-to-shoulder swarm—with his advantage of being a dog, people instinctively gave room—he was headed back, Tucker at his furry heels. Following the dog, she noticed, without hesitation.

When they arrived, Lobo sat looking up at her proudly. She held out the tennis ball the dog loved to carry around, and he took it with obvious delight. “That’s my good boy,” she said lovingly.

“Was that for him, or me?”

Her gaze shot to Tucker’s face. “For both, as long as both want it.”

Well, that took more nerve than anything has in a while…

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