Free Cowboy on the Run by Devon McKay Page B

muggy air smothered him. Underneath Calhoun’s thorough examination, the humidity was even more unbearable, making his shirt cling to his body like a second skin.
    “Well, if you must know, I’m working on the house, fixing the barn, that sort of thing. I plan on setting up roots.” And getting your daughter back.
    He studied the man’s face, keeping a controlled expression as the truth confronted him. It all made perfect sense now. Jessie’s father would have never given up control of his ranch...not unless he was forced to.
    “Your idea...of setting up...roots...” Thomas wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his right hand, offsetting his balance. “...not the same...as mine.”
    Nate reached out to help center him, but the man swatted his hand away. He couldn’t help the path of his thoughts, wondering if Thomas had suffered a heart attack or stroke, but didn’t ask. Such a question would only stab at a man’s pride. Instead, he nodded his head in agreement.
    He perceived what Thomas was implying—he’d hurt Jessie. A foolish decision he could never forgive himself for.
    “You’re right. I never was one for staying put, was I? And we both know who paid for that don’t we?” He owned up to his past, wanting to make sure Thomas got the full picture. He needed both Jessie and her father to know he had changed, determined to clear his name and make up for stupid mistakes.
    “Boys will be here tomorrow afternoon. Ten of them, all confused, and troubled. Same as I was.” Pausing, he pondered on his next words. “They need a safe place. I figured Walker land was as good as any.”
    Nate searched the weathered man’s face for a response. Thomas remained impassive with no reaction other than a slight nod. His expression remained stoic and unreadable.
    He tilted his chin, perturbed by the nagging need to explain his past behavior. “That’s where I’ve been for the last couple of years. I was lead counselor on a ranch like what I want this one to become. As a kid, the whole world seemed against me. I had this uneasiness inside me.” He kicked at a rock hidden partially in the dirt. The confession caused his stomach to roll in rocky waves.
    “Remember how pissed off I was? Always itching for a fight, for a reason to lash out at someone. So I’d feel better. And it worked, for a while.”
    He shot a glance at Thomas, curious to see the man’s reaction. There wasn’t one.
    “Fighting worked. Until that night with my dad,” he continued, clenching his hands into fists, and releasing them. He returned his attention back to kicking at the rock, now with a little more intensity. “When I left here, I roamed from town to town never finding what I needed. Do you know what I mean? I was searching for a place where I belonged, where I wasn’t so damn angry. I found it, but it wasn’t a place. It was in here,” he admitted, pointing at his chest. “Took a long time to figure it all out. Hell, I still got some figuring to do. I just want you to know, I’m not the same screwed up kid anymore.”
    Thomas remained silent, though nodded his head in indication he’d heard the confession. Nate hadn’t quite regained his trust, seeing traces of suspicion still evident in the man’s stare, but at least he said what needed to be said.
    “So...you saying...you like kids?” Thomas asked, his voice a cool, distant tone.
    Progress? Nate hid a smile, answering the question in the same way. “Yeah, I guess I do. I like these kids, anyway. Most of them remind me of my old ways, of how I once was. Helping them out...well, it makes me feel good, too, you know? It gives them some kind of stability. There was a man who tried as much for me in my troubled teens. Of course, I didn’t appreciate it then. I do now.” He spared another glance at Thomas, noting his admission had garnished a thoughtful expression.
    “I never thanked you for that.” Nate reached down and grabbed his tool belt off of the nearby fence