Page 23 of The Cowboy's Christmas
Or maybe he just needed the practice because he had a feeling that he might be telling this story more than once.
“Not much to tell, really. My dad and mom had a fling of sorts during the rodeo season thirty-some years ago. By the time my mom realized she was pregnant with me, my dad was engaged to an old girlfriend—Ty and Austin’s mom. I guess my mom was in denial about it until she couldn’t be anymore.”
“Did she tell him?”
“She gave me his last name and his name is on my birth certificate. She was open about it with me from the beginning. I don’t know how open she was with him, but I know that she’d told him at some point. It might have been before I was born. It might have been later.” One corner of his mouth tightened before he said, “I miss her.”
“When did you lose her?”
“It’s been four years.”
Savannah digested the information in silence, telling him that his instincts had been right. After her initial push, she wasn’t going to subject him to questioning. And because of that, he gave her a little more information, more because he was trying to straighten things out in his head than because of a need to share.
“I’ve known about my brothers forever, but they didn’t know about me. I have no idea if their mother knew. My gut says no, and that’s why I came as a complete surprise to them when my dad made his deathbed confession.”
“How was it? Meeting them?”
“I…liked them,” he said slowly. “I’m not sure what the next step is for us, if there is one.”
They made it clear they wanted to stay in contact, maybe get together. He was certain that if he called them, they’d talk him into leaving the Graff and into staying with one of them on their ranch.
“It’s a lot to process,” Savannah said.
“I didn’t think I’d feel anything,” he confessed.
“A reasonable assumption. It’d be like meeting two strangers.”
“I thought so, but it wasn’t.”
“Probably because you guys look alike,” she said dryly.
“That was part of it.” He let out a breath. “Honestly? It was kind of creepy to see people who looked like me.”
Savannah gave a low laugh, a husky sound that warmed him from the inside. Maybe talking about oneself wasn’t all bad.
“My mom was a nomad,” he said. “I was raised on the move, and I like things that way. Having brothers won’t change that.”
“But you’re afraid it will.”
He glanced over at her, admiring her perception, along with the curve of her cheek against her dark hair. “I can’t figure out why.”
“Guess you have some thinking to do,” she said softly.
“Yeah.” He brought his gaze forward again. “I guess I do.”
They rode the last half mile in mutual silence, lost in their thoughts, and when they finally reached the pasture fence, a herd of at least a hundred cattle were crowded up to it.
“I see what you mean about them knowing the drill.”
“I’d bet money that they’re all here,” she said.
“Why don’t you push them back to your ranch, and I’ll ride a circuit just to make sure.”
Instead of arguing, as he half expected, she simply said, “It’ll take some time. I’ll come back and help.”
Fifteen minutes later, Savannah and her two dogs were pushing the cattle down the snowy road while he and Pepper headed into the trees. It would be more of a cursory check than anything, because he believed she was right. Cattle stuck together and hungry cattle who knew the way home, even more so.
Quinn found three cows and two yearlings bedded down in an aspen grove, out of the weather, roused them, and pushed them toward the gate, which Savannah had left open. Once they saw the opening, they began to trot through the snow, the younger animals bucking and kicking. Cattle did love to make an escape. Any hole in the fence, any gate would do. Nothing was better than the grass, or in this case snow, on the other side.
