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

she’d gotten him wrong. Yes, maybe he’d changed in the past few years, but she could sympathize with his ex.
    “You don’t miss him?”
    “I did, at first.” He scratched at his beard, not looking at her anymore. “Tore my heart out every day. He was a good kid, a lot of fun. But then weeks would go by when I couldn’t get to Houston, and my ex wouldn’t bring him to San Antonio, said it was too far with a little kid in the car. I get that, she was right. And even when I got up there, you know, it made him uncomfortable having me around, made me uncomfortable.”
    “But he’s your son.”
    “I know.” He rubbed his hand up and down the arm of the couch, not looking at her.
    “Do you talk to him, at least?”
    He shrugged. “Not so much any more. He’s busy. In soccer and all that. Practices every day, homework, doesn’t really have time for me.”
    She sank to the chair across from him. “All that lost time, West. You’re never going to get it back.”
    “Which is why I don’t talk about it.”
    His voice held an unfamiliar edge that made her snap her head up. She nodded slowly, wondering why he stayed if he didn’t want to talk.
    “Right.”
    She pushed away from the wall and headed toward the kitchen, not knowing what she’d do when she got there, since West had already loaded the dishwasher. He jumped off the couch and followed, catching her hand.
    “Teresa.”
    She had a hard time meeting his gaze. Why was she so disappointed? Their relationship was just for fun, just physical. If he had kids all over the country, it wouldn’t matter. He was just a lay.
    “Teresa.” He touched her chin, lifting it with the edge of his finger. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”
    She met his gaze, willing her eyes not to fill in her disappointment. “You don’t owe me an explanation.” They’d only known each other a few days. Why did it seem longer?
    “I’m not the same guy.”
    “I’d do anything to see my daughter every day. I guess I just can’t understand a parent feeling any other way.” When he opened his mouth, she held up a hand to stop him. “It’s not my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”
    “Do you want me to go?”
    She drew in a breath, then nodded. He stepped back, frowning, and turned toward the door.
    “I’ll be ready at six thirty to take you to school.”
    She squeezed her eyes shut, and wished she didn’t have to depend on him. “Thank you.”
     
    *****
     
    West stepped into his RV earlier than he’d intended. He’d blown it in there, with Teresa. He knew how anxious she was about getting her daughter back. He should never have talked to her about Taylor.
    He sat at the dinette and pulled out his cell phone. He considered it or a moment before, thought about the time difference before he tapped Taylor’s name on the screen. Taylor wasn’t old enough to have his own phone, but West couldn’t bring himself to have Holly’s name in his phone.
    Not entirely her fault. Hell, not much of her fault at all. More the fault of his guilt, something he buried most of the time. Teresa was right—all that lost time. His son changed every time West saw him, became more and more a stranger. Again, his fault.
    “What are you doing calling so late?” Holly demanded in greeting.
    “It’s just after nine. I know Taylor had practice today.”
    “It’s after ten, and everyone’s in bed.”
    He grimaced. He was in Pacific timezone, Taylor was in Central. Two hour time difference. How had he miscalculated that?
    “How’s he doing? Doing okay?”
    He expected to hear her say, “What do you care?” Instead she blew out a sigh. “He’s failing math.”
    “Pretty sure that’s not my fault.” As soon as he said it, he regretted his defensiveness. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyebrows. “Sorry. Sorry. You want me to talk to him? You think it would do any good?”
    He could almost hear her grinding her teeth. “You might try being fatherly.”
    He might