Chapter 10 #3
“And you.”
The kid didn’t move.
Okay, so maybe—
“Are you really my dad?” His voice emerged soft, almost broken.
Rowan’s seemed to match it. “Yeah, buddy. I really am.”
More silence. Then, “Why didn’t you come back before? Didn’t you want me?”
And now he got it. Why Huck had insisted he was dead.
Because dead didn’t mean rejected. Dead didn’t mean his father had chosen not to come home. And maybe Huck was only ten and didn’t truly understand his snarled emotions.
He just knew it hurt.
“Huck. I didn’t know about you,” Rowan said quietly. “I swear on my life, I didn’t know you existed until a few days ago.”
More silence.
“But Mom said my dad was dead. And she wouldn’t lie to me.”
What a good kid. “She didn’t lie. She thought I was dead. For a long time, everyone thought I was dead. It was…complicated.” He searched for words that would make sense to a ten-year-old. “Because of my job, I had to disappear for a while. Your mom had no way of knowing I was still alive.”
Huck drew in a breath and looked at him then, those blue eyes bright with tears. “What kind of job?”
“Soldier. I was a soldier. Just like I told you. Just like your mom told you.”
Huck swallowed. “Why did you come back?”
“Well, my mission—the one that kept me dead—ended. And the first thing I thought of was…well, seeing your mom. I needed to tell her I wasn’t dead.
And then I heard about your great-grandpa dying and…
he was important to me, so I thought I’d stay and help and…
” He put his hand on Huck’s shoulder. “And then I met you.”
Huck just kept staring at him. “Did you know I was…who I was?”
“No. Not until a couple days ago.”
“Then why did you stay?”
“Because…like I said, I love your mom. And I love you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know you’re brave. I know you ride like you were born in the saddle.
I know you practice roping until your hands blister because you want to be the best.” Rowan’s voice roughened with emotion.
“I know you take care of your mom and help around the ranch and that you’ve got the biggest heart of any kid I’ve ever met. ”
“Mom told you that stuff.”
“No, she didn’t. I mean, she would, probably. But I can see it for myself.” He turned to him, and now his chest simply cracked and his throat tightened and, shoot, he could barely speak the words. “I know you’re the best thing I never knew I had.”
Huck’s composure broke at that. The tears he’d been holding back spilled over, and suddenly he was sobbing—great, wrenching sobs that spoke of ten years of questions and loneliness and the desperate desire for a father.
And Rowan, shoot, he just reached out and pulled the kid to himself.
Pulled his son to himself.
Because he was his father.
“I wanted you to come back,” Huck choked out between sobs. “Every birthday, every Christmas, every time kids at school talked about their dads. I wanted you to not be dead so bad.”
Rowan’s own eyes burned, filled. He closed them. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”
And then Huck put his arms around him and held on.
Rowan had never felt more undone in his life. “Listen. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”
Huck finally leaned up. “Promise?”
“I promise.” Rowan met his son’s eyes and wiped tears from Huck’s face with gentle thumbs. “I’ve got ten years of birthdays to make up for. Ten years of bedtime stories and homework help and teaching you everything I know about being a man. If you’ll let me.”
Huck studied his face with serious eyes. “Will you teach me to shoot? Like you just did with the snake?”
Of course he would ask that, and Rowan laughed. “When you’re older. Much older.” A smile tugged at Rowan’s lips. “But I’ll teach you to fix engines and change oil and all the things my dad taught me before…”
“Before he died?”
“Yeah.” Rowan’s voice grew quiet. “Before he died saving me from a horse that was spooked, just like Jasper was today.”
“Is that why you were so scared? When Jasper reared up?”
“Terrified,” Rowan said. “I couldn’t lose you, Huck. Not when I just found you.”
“I’m sorry I ran away.”
“Yeah. That wasn’t smart. You have every right to be upset. But you need to figure out how to keep your cool when your emotions feel too big, okay?”
The sound of hoofbeats made them both look up. Sierra appeared at the top of the ravine, mounted on her palomino mare. Even from this distance, Rowan could see the tension in her shoulders, the fear and anger warring in her expression.
“Huck Elway Blackwood!” Sierra’s voice carried down to them clearly as she guided her horse carefully down the slope. “What in the world were you thinking, riding off like that? You could have been killed!”
“Sorry, Mom.” Huck swiped at his eyes, trying to erase evidence of his tears.
Sierra dismounted and was across the creek bed in three strides, pulling Huck into a fierce hug. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
Sierra’s eyes found Rowan’s over Huck’s head, and he saw the moment she registered his emotional state. His eyes were still damp, and she clearly saw it. But instead of saying anything, she simply smiled—a soft, understanding smile that made him ache.
Oh, he loved her.
“What happened to the snake?” she asked, noticing the scattered remains on the rock.
“Mr. R shot it,” Huck said, pulling back from his mother’s embrace. “It was huge, Mom. And Jasper got scared and reared up, but Mr. R caught me before I fell.”
“Did he now?” Sierra’s eyes held Rowan’s, and he saw gratitude there, mixed with something deeper.
“Just doing my job,” Rowan said quietly, standing and brushing dirt from his jeans.
“What job is that?”
“Being his dad.”
The simple statement hung in the air between them, and Rowan watched Sierra’s expression soften further.
“Good job.”
They were gathering the horses and preparing to head back when Sierra suddenly went still.
“What is it?” Rowan asked, immediately alert.
“Look.” Sierra pointed toward the ridge above them, where a lone horse was picking its way down the slope toward the ranch buildings. A riderless bay gelding.
Rowan’s blood chilled. “That’s Morrie’s horse.”
“Where’s Morrie?” Sierra’s face went pale.
The horse appeared calm but tired, his reins trailing and his saddle slightly askew. No signs of violence, but no sign of his rider either.
“I’ll get the horse, then we should head back, see if we can raise Morrie on the walkie.”
Sierra met his gaze, her eyes dark.
“I’ll find him,” Rowan said quietly. “I’ll find him.”