“We’ll be moving the cattle to the north pasture,” Aaron Fitzgerald said at dinner that night as he spooned a mound of mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Take advantage of the good weather.”
Katie smiled at her silent son sitting across from her at the table. “The north pasture has a ring of trees around it. They draw the lightning away from the cattle.”
Shane didn’t look the least bit impressed by the information. He kept his gaze firmly fixed on his plate. Katie supposed that cows and horses couldn’t compete with the wonder of video games and the Internet in a ten-year- old’s mind. Nevertheless, she tried again.
“Did you know that all the white cattle are put in a different pasture?” she asked. “For some reason, the white ones attract more lightning than other colors.”
Shane looked up, his expression haunted. “So they’re sacrificed?”
“They’re cattle, son,” Aaron bellowed. “They’re heading for slaughter anyway. Of course we prefer to do that on our time rather than Mother Nature’s, but some things can’t be avoided.”
Her son’s pale face blanched and he carefully pushed the slice of meat loaf to the far side of his plate.
Suzanne, her stepmother, gave him a sympathetic look.
Aaron continued to discuss the movement of cattle. Had her father’s voice always been this loud, Katie wondered as Shane winced at a particularly explosive description. She looked around the large oak table that could, at a pinch, hold sixteen. Tonight there were only the four of them. Blair and Brent, her two younger half siblings and the only ones still living at the ranch, were staying with friends for the evening. Normally their presence was a buffer between Aaron and Shane, but this evening there wasn’t anyone else to capture Aaron’s attention.
Katie’s father was a big man-tall, barrel-chested, with the bowlegged walk of a man who has spent his life in the saddle. His blond hair had only recently started going gray at the temples, and his expression contained a permanent squint from days in the sun. He was loud, abrasive and about the most stubborn man ever born. Katie loved him fiercely, but watching him deal with her son nearly broke her heart. Shane hadn’t been born on the ranch. He was more interested in computers than cattle. That made him different, and Aaron didn’t take kindly to anything out of the ordinary.
“’Bout time you learned to ride,” Aaron announced, his gaze drilling Shane. “You’re nearly ten. That’s practically too old to even start, so you’ll have to work hard to catch up.”
“Doesn’t that sound fun?” Katie asked cheerfully. “You’ll enjoy being able to ride around the ranch.”
“Don’t want to,” Shane muttered under his breath. He never looked up from his plate. He wasn’t eating. Katie’s heart went out to her son. She’d had no idea that living with her father was going to make Shane so miserable.
Suzanne leaned toward the boy. “Horses are kind of big,” she murmured conspiratorially. “I was scared of them for a long time, but once I learned to ride, I found I really liked it.”
“Quit coddling the boy,” Aaron instructed from across the table. He slapped his hand on the wood, making them all jump. “We’ll get you started this weekend.”
Katie shook her head. “Dad, let him ride in his own time. If you force him, he’ll just hate it.”
Her father glared at her. “You tellin’ me how to raise the boy? Between us, me and Suzanne have eight children. You have one.”
Katie looked at her father and wondered when the man had changed. Her mother had died eighteen years before, the victim of a wild spring storm and the subsequent flash flood. Aaron had remarried within a year, taking gentle Suzanne, a divorced woman with two daughters, as his wife. Together they’d had two more children.
Had the trouble with her father started with his first wife’s death? Katie didn’t think so. Aaron’s anger, his unyielding temperament, had existed for as long as Katie could remember. She’d never stood up to him before, but now she didn’t have a choice.
She set down her fork. “Shane isn’t yours to raise, Dad. He’s my son, and I’m responsible for him. If he’s not ready to start riding, that’s fine with me.”
Aaron shoved a forkful of food into his mouth. His color had darkened, giving his face a reddish hue, but he didn’t say anything. Suzanne, a petite blonde with gentle green eyes, patted Katie’s hand. “Give Shane space. He’ll get used to our ways.”
But later that night, when she put her son to bed, Katie wasn’t so sure. Maybe moving back to Lone Star Canyon had been a mistake. Shane had been happy in Dallas. Except he hadn’t had a male role model there. She’d thought here he would have his grandfather and uncles. She’d taken him out of school mid-semester and moved him into her father’s house, where the boy had to endure nightly lectures over dinner. Was she a horrible mother for that?
She bent and kissed her son’s cheek. “Grandpa doesn’t mean to make things hard on you.”
Shane wrinkled his nose. “He’s too loud and he never listens. I’m not like him. I’m not like anyone here.”
Katie’s throat tightened. “Your teacher says you’re doing really well in school. I spoke to her today. She’d heard about the fight and wanted me to know that you hadn’t started it. Apparently those older boys are real bullies. Their parents are sending them off to boarding school so they can get straightened out. You won’t have to worry about them again.”
Shane looked at her with big blue eyes. “If I don’t do what Grandpa says, will you send me away?”
“Of course not,” she said quickly, gathering her son close. Tears burned but she blinked them back. “I love you. You’re my favorite person in the whole world. I’d be lost without you. Besides, I happen to think you’re an incredibly great kid. I’m proud of you, Shane. Always.”
“Grandpa doesn’t like me much.”
She lowered him to the bed and grinned. “Some days I don’t think Grandpa likes anyone.”
Shane smiled in return. “’Cept those cows.”
“Right. He adores his cows.”
She kissed her son again, then turned off the light. Right or wrong, they were here. They would have to make the best of it. Maybe she should try talking to her father, she thought as she stepped into the hallway. Or maybe she should just take Shane and move into a hotel until their house was finished. If things didn’t get better, she wasn’t going to have a choice.
Chapter Three
Jack lined up the cans of oil so they would be ready to pour into the truck. Changing the oil in the ranch vehicles generally fell to someone lower on the food chain, but these days, with his mom mostly confined to the house, he preferred to stay close to home. So he’d taken over the chore of getting the vehicles in shape for spring roundup. Which meant every truck and car on the ranch got its oil changed.
The old Dodge four-by-four was battered. There were deep gouges in both doors, and the once red paint had faded some from long days in the sun. But despite the cosmetic problems, the truck had never once failed or left him stranded. His father had always told him to take care of his equipment and it would take care of him.
Jack frowned at the memory. He didn’t usually allow himself to think about his father. Russell Darby had walked out on his family eighteen years ago and had never once looked back. He’d not been in touch with any of his children, not to mention his wife. Hell of a legacy, Jack thought grimly.
A small sound caught his attention. He turned toward the noise, grateful for the interruption. Long ago he’d taught himself to avoid any thoughts of his father, and he didn’t want to break the habit now. He saw a boy standing just inside the open double doors of the oversize garage. Even without the sunlight glinting off wire- rimmed glasses, he would have recognized the child.
Shane Fitzgerald had the look of the Fitzgerald family about him. Blond hair, blue eyes, stubborn chin. Aaron’s chin. Jack could also see Katie in the boy-Katie and someone else. The boy’s father.
“Hello, Shane,” Jack said pleasantly.
Shane took a step closer to him. “Mom says I’m supposed to stay out of the way. She’s up at the house helpin’ Mrs. Darby.”
“I know.”
There was something tentative about the boy. An air of caution that made him seem smaller and younger. Normally Jack didn’t make much time for children-they weren’t a part of his world. But for some reason he found
