Free Faith in the Cowboy (Taming the Cowboy) by Emma Jay

“Absolutely.”
    They played three games, Noah winning two and West winning one before Teresa called it and put the pieces away, closed the box and announced it was time for Noah’s bath. There was the requisite whining before she cut it off by swinging him into her arms and letting him pretend to be an airplane down the hall. As she ran the bath and Noah stripped happily, she peeked out the door to see West move into the living room to wait. Before he sat on the couch, he turned and waved. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling when Boomer jumped up beside him and licked his face. She was still smiling as she stepped back into the bathroom to monitor Noah’s bath.
    He seemed to take longer than usual, wanting to play with every bathtub toy he had. She managed to get him bathed and shampooed, and made him get all his toys out of the tub before she scooped him up to dry him off. He peed in the toilet, then ran, shrieking and naked, down the hall.
    “Just like his dad,” West laughed.
    “Find something on TV he can watch,” she called to West as she followed the boy into his bedroom, where he picked out his favorite Disney pajamas.
    Five minutes later, Noah was barreling down the hall, and Boomer jumped off the couch to follow. He leaped onto West, who caught him easily and settled the child against his side. The puppy joined them. Something twinged in Teresa’s chest, not connection this time, but suspicion. She sat on the couch, too, far enough away that he raised his eyebrows. She ignored him and turned her attention to the television.
    After the program, she shuffled Noah off to bed, read him a story, one she knew by heart, thank goodness because her concentration was off. Finally she saw Noah’s eyes drift shut, and she returned to the living room where West had changed the channel to some action movie she didn’t recognize. Boomer snored beside him.
    She leaned against the doorway and folded her arms. “You have a kid.”
    He dragged his gaze from the TV to her, then sighed and clicked off the television. “Yeah.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    He shifted on the couch, one arm stretched across the back, the other along the arm. “It’s complicated.”
    She snorted a laugh. “I know complicated.”
    “My ex, she’s in Houston with my son, remarried to a guy with two kids of his own. I’m in San Antonio most of the year, then I go on the road with the rodeo. I don’t see him much.”
    “How old is he?”
    “Ten.”
    That surprised her. “How old are you?”
    His lips quirked. “Thirty.”
    “How long ago did you split up?”
    “We split up when he was a little older than Noah. I tried to stay involved for a while, but being a paramedic, and riding the rodeo—I only see him like every other month. He’s happier that way. Her new guy, Mike, is a good guy, a good dad.”
    Her heart plummeted. She’d known he’d been too good to be true, but to walk away from his own son...
    “Why didn’t you move to Houston to be closer?”
    He drew in a breath. “We talked about it, my ex and me. I had better opportunities in San Antonio.”
    “But your son was in Houston. Isn’t that more important than advancement in the fire department?” She couldn’t imagine being in a different city than her daughter. If, God forbid, she didn’t get Emily back, if Layla moved her to another town, Teresa would drop everything, would live on the street if that was what it took, to be near her daughter.
    “She wanted a fresh start with Mike and his kids. Wanted them to be a family. Wanted me to back off.”
    “How could she ask that of you? He’s your son.” What had he done to make her leave him? He’d seemed too perfect. She knew he’d been too perfect.
    “I was an asshole to her, Teresa. I loved any excuse to get away. I mean, we had Taylor when we were so young, we never really got to have fun. So I took mine anyway. She resented it. She figured she did most of the parenting, I lost my chance.”
    Wow,