Her Secret Cowboy. Marin Thomas

a rodeo in Midway on Saturday. I told Porter I’d team rope with him. You and Ryan could meet us there.”

      “What time?”

      “One o’clock,” he said.

      “Fine.”

      “Are you going to tell Ryan about me before Saturday?”

      “Yes.”

      He’d like to be a fly on the wall during that conversation. “What have your parents got to say about all this?”

      “I didn’t tell them you were Ryan’s father.”

      Now he knew why the pastor had never shown up at the pecan farm with a shotgun, demanding he do right by his daughter.

      “My mother suspected it was you a while ago.” The corner of her mouth curved upward. “Ryan looks like you.”

      Her words barely registered with Will as he stared at her mouth. Blame it on his confused emotional state but right now all he wanted to do was taste Marsha’s kiss. Why he’d want to kiss the woman who’d betrayed him was a mystery, but there was no denying her presence was causing a spike in his testosterone levels.

      “Are you okay?” She frowned.

      “I’m fine.” Pull it together, man. “Your mother didn’t share her suspicions with your father?”

      “No.”

      He didn’t envy Marsha the task of breaking the news to the pastor—the man had never held the Cash family in high esteem. Working at the church next week would prove interesting.

      When they walked to Marsha’s car, Will said, “In case no one told you...I work for Ben Wallace’s construction company and we’re—”

      “I heard.” She opened the driver-side door. “I’m sorry if I came off... I didn’t mean to be...” She nibbled her lip. “I’m worried about my father.”

      Unlike Will, Marsha had a good relationship with her parents and he sympathized with her having to deal with the pastor’s illness. “See you Saturday,” he said. Her car had no sooner disappeared from sight than all three of his brothers appeared at Will’s side.

      “Well?” Conway said. “Are you positive you’re Ryan’s father?”

      “Yes.”

      “What are you going to do?” Porter asked.

      “Marsha’s bringing him to the rodeo on Saturday.”

      “Want me to tag along?” Buck asked.

      “No, thanks.” The last thing he needed was to overwhelm Ryan with all his uncles. “Porter, we’re taking separate vehicles. I’ll meet you in Midway.”

      “Whatever works best for you.” Porter nodded toward his truck. “Buck and I are heading into Yuma to grocery shop. You got any requests?”

      Will shook his head. Once his brothers peeled out of the yard, Conway spoke. “You okay?”

      “I don’t know the first thing about being a father.”

      “I didn’t either,” Conway said.

      “How’d you figure it out?”

      “You learn as you go.”

      That sounded risky.

      “My advice is to not push yourself on Ryan. Let him call the shots.”

      “Sounds easy enough.”

      “It’s not. And as soon as you think you understand your kid, they do something that takes you by surprise.” Conway retreated to the barn, leaving Will alone with his misgivings.

      * * *

      “RYAN, LET’S TAKE a walk,” Marsha said after supper. Her father had retreated to the living room to nap in his recliner and her mother was pulling weeds in the garden.

      “I don’t want to take a walk. I’m reading the Land of Varagon.” Ryan had gotten hooked on a new fantasy series after one of the kids in his after-school book club recommended it. There were twelve stories in the series and Ryan was reading number six. She’d kept track of the characters and plots through the fourth book, then things had become confusing and she’d given up.

      “I need to talk to you. It’s important.” She waited by the door.

      Ryan set his e-reader on the kitchen table and they walked through the garage then along the path that led to the church.

      “How do you feel about meeting your father this summer?” When Ryan remained silent, she said, “You’ve never asked about him.”

      “I didn’t ask, because I thought you didn’t want me to know who he was.”

      Shocked, she put the brakes on. “Why would you think I wouldn’t want you to know who your father was?”

      “You never talked about him and he never came to our house.” Ryan shrugged. “I thought he was a bad person.”

      Dear God what had she done? “I’m sorry, Ryan. I assumed your silence meant you weren’t interested in getting to know him.” As soon as she said the words, a sharp pain struck her in the chest—guilt. How dare she lay the blame at Ryan’s feet when her reluctance to include Will in their lives had to do with her own insecurities and nothing to do with wanting to prevent Will from hurting Ryan.

      “It’s not a big deal, Mom. Lots of kids in my school have only one parent.”

      “Since we’re spending the entire summer with Grandpa and Grandma I thought you should know that your father lives in Stagecoach.”

      “Really?”

      “Yes.”

      “How come he never wanted to see me when we came to Grandma and Grandpa’s?”

      “Your father didn’t know you existed until recently.”

      Her throat tightened as she envisioned the wary look on Will’s face when they’d met today. It was clear her decision to keep Ryan a secret had wounded him deeply. Then she reminded herself that over a decade had passed since she’d revealed her pregnancy to him and his reaction then had been very different.

      “Why didn’t you want him to know about me?” Ryan asked.

      “I didn’t think he was ready to be a father. We’d both just graduated from high school.”

      “Does he want to meet me or are you forcing him to?”

      “Of course he wants to meet you. He’d like for you and I to go to a rodeo and watch him compete this Saturday.”

      “I don’t like rodeos.”

      “Since when?”

      “Since Grandma and Grandpa took me to one when I was six.”

      “I’d forgotten about that.” When Ryan had returned from the event all he’d told her was that it was too noisy and the place stunk like poop.

      They arrived at the church and Ryan held the door open for her. They sat in the pew at the front of the sanctuary.

      “Is he any good at rodeo?” Ryan asked.

      “I don’t know. We’ll find out on Saturday.”

      “Do I have to go?”

      “Yes.” It would be easy to give in to him, but she held firm.

      “Mom? What if I don’t like him?”

      Marsha smiled—she’d always been drawn to Will’s brooding personality and good looks. He’d been the quintessential bad boy, the kid with a troubled past, and she’d been the sweet daughter of the local pastor who’d believed she could save him.

      “Why are you