Kael (Texas Rascals, #6) Read online

  Kael took a deep breath and swept his gaze south toward

  the charred alfalfa field. “I’m not backing down on this,

  Daisy. I’ve got to know if Travis is my son, and I can’t

  wait until he’s eighteen. I’ve already missed out on seven

  years of his life as it is. Do you have any idea how that

  makes me feel?”

  At this point she really didn’t care how Kael Carmody

  felt. Had he considered her feelings when he’d left town?

  Had he even thought of her once in the past seven years?

  She doubted it. He had a one-track mind—bull riding.

  She’d always been a pale second. His refusal to stay here

  and build a life with her told that story.

  “Why don’t you stop and think about Travis for one

  minute. What do you think is going to go through that little

  boy’s mind when you tell him that you might be his daddy?

  He’s bound to wonder where you’ve been all this time and

  why you abandoned him. Have you given that matter any

  consideration?’ ’

  Kael ran a palm down his face. “Daisy, you’ve hit me

  with this out of the blue. I haven’t had time to absorb any

  of it. I’m operating on gut instinct. I say let’s have the

  blood test done and don’t tell Travis what it’s for until we

  know for sure I’m his father.”

  “I’m not lying to him.”

  “I didn’t ask you to lie.” Kael gave an exasperated sigh.

  “Just tell him the doctor needs to run some test.”

  “He’s a smart kid, he’s going to want to know why.”

  “Stall him, Daisy. You’re good at it. Lord knows you

  stalled me long enough.”

  Her face heated at his words. “I suppose that’s why you

  slept with Rose, your hormones got the better of you.”

  He glared at her. “I’m not going to dignify that with a

  reply.” He shucked off the coveralls, stepped out of them

  and laid them across the fence. “I’ll be here at seven

  o’clock on Monday morning. You better hold Travis out of

  school and have him ready to go or I promise you, there’ll

  be hell to pay.”

  A ROTTEN SENSATION lay in Kael’s belly like a lead casket.

  All Saturday and Sunday he’d vacillated between anger,

  resentment, sadness and melancholy. He would think about

  how Daisy had deceived him and he’d grind his teeth, then

  he would remind himself she’d only been trying to protect

  herself and her son. Much as he hated to admit it, he prob-

  ably wouldn’t have been a good father at twenty-one.

  But dammit, she’d deprived him of the opportunity to

  try. And now? What kind of father would he be?

  Despite himself, he already felt a rush of unexpected love

  for the red-haired boy who looked so much like Daisy.

  Hold up, Carmody, he’d had to remind himself on more

  than one occasion. Don’t get too soft on the tyke until you

  know for sure. But that sensible note of caution couldn’t

  stop his heart from doing flip-flops when he sneaked over

  to the property line dividing the Carmody ranch from High-

  tower Honey Farm and watched the boy play in his back-

  yard.

  “My son.”

  Kael tried the words out loud. They felt alien but nice.

  Hunkering in the grass, observing Travis while he hung

  upside down from the branch of an old oak tree, Kael ex-

  perienced a sense of overwhelming guilt.

  Had he abandoned Rose in her time of need? Was that

  what had driven her to suicide?

  Guilt tightened like a corkscrew. Kael winced. He had

  never meant to hurt anyone. Not Rose. Not Daisy and cer-

  tainly not this innocent little boy. But if Travis was indeed

  his son, those ugly sins were his to claim.

  Damn. He’d made so many mistakes. How could he pos-

  sibly atone for them all?

  Kael watched while Travis whistled tunelessly. The poor

  kid seemed so lonely. He was quiet. Solemn and solitary.

  He should be interacting with other children, playing base-

  ball, hide-and-go-seek or cowboys and Indians. Kael ached

  to reach out to him, to show him the things boys learned

  from men.

  The child desperately needed a male role model; could

  Kael provide that kind of guidance he required? Daisy was

  doing her best, but nothing could replace a man’s influence,

  and it was obvious Daisy had more on her plate than she

  could chew. No matter how hard she tried, she just didn’t

  have enough time to spend with the boy.

  Whereas Kael had all the time in the world.

  Was he making the right decision, demanding a blood

  test? What if he was Travis’s father? What would the boy

  think of him then? How could he explain his absence with-

  out putting down both Rose and Daisy?

  Kael blew out his breath. What a mess! A lonely boy

  without a father. A hard-working woman trying to make

  ends meet. A wealthy man, aimless and unhappy, without

  any goals left in life. Sad, really, that they were so isolated

  from each other when they should be together.

  The thought caught in Kael’s mind and hammered at

  him. They could be a group, a unit, a family.

  Yeah. Sure. As if Daisy would ever forgive him enough

  to consider the notion. That stubborn woman courted iso-

  lation, embraced her loneliness like a holy cross to bear.

  His fault, the guilt accused. All his fault.

  No dammit, Kael railed. Although he certainly wasn’t

  blameless, Daisy had brought a lot of this upon herself. If

  she’d been honest with him, instead of secretive, he could

  have been here to help her through the hard times. He won-

  dered what it was about the woman that made her shun

  assistance in favor of self-reliance, even when that self-

  reliance was detrimental to herself and her adopted son.

  Was it the loss of her parents at such a young age? Was

  it the responsibility of running the honey farm? She’d had

  no real childhood, thrown by death into the adult world far

  too soon. Even before her parents had been killed, Daisy

  and Rose had been enlisted as helpers on the farm. Daisy

  had known nothing but hard work for her entire life. The

  woman had no idea how to have fun.

  It was a wonder, Kael marveled, that he and Daisy had

  ever gotten together at all. They were such opposites. She,

  stable, solid, dependable. He, flexible, rootless, wayward.

  She, quiet. He, wild. Daisy was so self-contained, content

  without social contact, while he had always hungered for

  the limelight and thrived on adulation.

  Of course, she’d been the one person who hadn’t fallen

  at his feet, and he’d respected her for that. In fact, Kael

  remembered with a wry smile, he’d had a devil of a time

  convincing her to even go out with him.

  He’d lived next door to Daisy Hightower all his life, but

  he’d never thought of her as a woman until the summer

  she turned sixteen just a few short months before her par-

  ents’ fatal automobile accident.

  Kael licked his lips at the memory. He’d been out check
-

  ing on the cattle for his father when he spotted Daisy work-

  ing in the apiary, her long red hair, unencumbered by a bee

  veil, glistening in the early morning sunlight. She’d looked

  like a fairy sprite, lithe, lissome and completely delicious.

  Her lean graceful body had been encased in white coveralls

  that could not camouflage her spectacular figure.

  The sight of her had taken his breath. His physical re-

  sponse had been swift and immediate. He’d known it was

  Daisy right off the bat. Rose had little interest in the bees.

  She spent her spare time riding horses and chasing boys.

  No, from the very start it had always been Daisy.

  She’d been humming under her breath, a soft, lilting mel-

  ody, and Kael recalled thinking she was the most incredible

  creature he’d ever seen.

  Forever cocky and sure of himself, he’d sauntered over

  to the fence row and called out to her.

  “Hey, good looking.”

  She’d sent him a look that would have withered grapes

  into raisins, and kept going about her business.

  “Perhaps I should have said, Miss Stuck-Up,” he

  goaded, anxious for her reaction.

  Daisy ignored him.

  He’d flung a leg across the fence and climbed over onto

  the Hightower property.

  “You’re trespassing, Mr. Carmody,” she had said with-

  out even looking up from her work. Bees buzzed around

  her like she was their queen. Kael didn’t blame them for

  their devotion. She was the most regal thing he’d ever seen.

  Aloof, detached, poised and serene.

  “What are you going to do about it, Miss Hightower,”

  he’d asked, coming toward her.

  She’d raised her head, and her eyes met his.

  Even now, years later, the recollection of that exchange

  raised something deep within him—an odd sensation of

  panic and euphoria as if he’d met his match and she was

  far too good for him.

  “You really aren’t interested in tangling with my bees,

  are you, Mr. Carmody?’ ’

  “You’re kidding, right?” He’d allowed a killer grin to

  spread across his face.

  She never cracked a smile. “Am I?”

  “You wouldn’t have your attack bees sting the greatest

  bull rider ever bom, now would you?”

  “I might. If there was such a person in the vicinity.”

  ‘7’ra the greatest bull rider ever bom.” He’d thrust out

  his chest in a preening gesture. She’d been completely un-

  impressed.

  “Ever heard of humility?”

  “Ever heard of tooting your own horn?”

  Daisy had rolled her eyes and turned her back to him.

  Quickly he’d circled around to gamer her attention again.

  “Hey, can you really make the bees sting someone?”

  “Try me.”

  He hadn’t been brave enough to take the dare, but from

  that moment on, he hadn’t been able to erase Daisy High-

  tower from his mind.

  He’d pestered her constantly, calling her two or three

  times a week for a date.

  She’d fed him a passel of excuses. Most of them legiti-

  mate: she was too busy helping out on the honey farm in

  her spare time; she was an honor student and had to main-

  tain a high grade-point average in order to get into her

  college of choice; her parents were old-fashioned and

  wouldn’t allow her to date until she was seventeen.

  But Kael kept after her until she told him the truth—that

  she just wasn’t interested in someone stupid enough to risk

  his neck by climbing onto the back of a bull.

  For the first time ever, Kael Carmody had been rebuffed

  and he refused to take rejection lying down.

  Daisy had been cool, distant, never offering him any en-

  couragement. Whenever she’d come to the rodeo arena to

  watch Rose race barrels, Kael made a point to flirt with her.

  In defense, Daisy would pick up a book and pretend to

  read.

  “Are you shy?” Kael asked one day. “Or just rude.”

  “Rude,” she answered.

  “All the other girls think I’m one hell of a guy, why

  don’t you?”

  ‘ ‘Do the words arrogant jerk mean anything to you?’ ’

  “Ah, come on, Daisy, give me a chance. I’m not so

  bad.”

  “So you say.”

  “One date with me, and you’ll change your opinion,”

  he wheedled.

  “Don’t hold your breath, Kael Carmody.”

  He gave her his best “sad puppy dog” expression.

  “Please.”

  “Why don’t you quit bothering me and go out with

  Rose. For some crazy reason she thinks you’re charming.”

  “I don’t want to go out with Rose. I want to go out with

  you.”

  She’d given him a dubious look. “Everyone wants to go

  out with Rose.”

  “Not me.”

  “Why not? We look exactly alike. Pretend she’s me.”

  “I don’t want to date you for your beauty.”

  Both Daisy’s eyebrows had shot up on her forehead.

  “Oh that’s believable.”

  “I can’t help it. You intrigue me.”

  “Only because I won’t go out with you.”

  Kael shrugged. “Gotta confess, I adore a challenge.”

  “All right.” Daisy sighed. “If I agree to have a cold

  drink with you, will you promise to leave me alone after

  that?”

  He’d been so happy, he’d tossed his hat in the air and

  shouted, “Yippee.”

  His happiness, however, had been short-lived.

  Before he and Daisy had had a chance to sip that cold

  drink together in the worn vinyl booth at Hilley’s Drug-

  store, Daisy’s parents had been killed in an automobile ac-

  cident.

  For the first few weeks he’d stayed out of her way, giv-

  ing the sogginess of immediate grief time to abate. Then

  he’d shown up on her doorstep, offering his assistance with

  the honey farm.

  Daisy, as he had expected she would, refused his over-

  ture. But Rose and Aunt Peavy had embraced his help,

  giving him chores to do and rewarding him with home-

  cooked meals. Eventually Daisy had come to rely on him,

  too, even though she never admitted it.

  Kael shook away the memory and smiled wistfully from

  where he crouched beside the fence row. He gazed across

  the pasture, studying the child that might be his son as the

  boy climbed higher into the branches of the ancient oak

  tree.

  A few minutes later, Daisy came out on the patio and

  called Travis in for supper. Kael’s stomach scaled his throat

  at the sight of her.

  Lord, but she was beautiful—her red hair caught in her

  signature ponytail and her lean body wrapped in tight blue

  jeans and a faded Western shirt. She wore no makeup or

  jewelry, but Daisy didn’t need such accoutrements. Her

  loveliness was the natural kind that outshone any profes-

  sional runway model or sleek, sophisticated actress. Daisy

  Hightower was a real woman. Stubborn temperament and

  all. She didn’t mind getting her ha
nds dirty or breaking a

  fingernail or sweating. She worked. Hard. Had her whole

  life. Strange, really, how she and her identical twin sister,

  Rose, had come from the same background but turned out

  so differently.

  He swallowed hard. Daisy placed her hands on her hips

  and looked briefly toward the ranch before turning her at-

  tention to the apiary. He caught a glimpse of her face. Her

  eyes were worried, her mouth pressed into a firm line. How

  he longed to put a smile on those lovely lips, but it seemed

  as if he just kept adding to her suffering.

  What he wouldn’t give to hear her laugh again! The

  woman roused in him such an intense fighting spirit. A

  spirit Kael had only previously experienced on the back of

  a bucking bull.

  Actually, Miss Daisy Hightower was much more dan-

  gerous than any rip-snorting Brahma. The bull might have

  lacerated his leg, but Daisy had mangled his heart.

  Kael still felt the pain. A deep lingering ache he feared

  might never heal. Such a crying shame. They had once had

  so much potential. Could they ever hope to bridge the

  chasm separating them?

  Daisy sank her hands on her hips and called to Travis

  again.

  Observing her, Kael tried his best to ignore the burning

  in his gut. No. There could be no repair of the damage

  done. Seven years and his unintentional betrayal stretched

  between them. What was past was past. The most he could

  hope for was to become a good father to his child.

  Daisy and Travis disappeared into the house. Kael sighed

  and rose to his feet. The odor of charred grass clung to the

  air. He dusted his hands on the seat of his pants.

  Perhaps Daisy was right. Maybe he should simply leave

  well enough alone and not proceed with the blood test. Yet

  part of him balked at the idea. He’d made a lot of mistakes,

  and he didn’t want to compound them. Whether Daisy

  Hightower liked it or not, he had to know if Travis was his

  son.

  Daisy put off telling Travis about the blood test for as

  long as she dared. Sunday evening, after supper was over

  and the dishes had been washed, she called him into the

  kitchen.

  Aunt Peavy was snoring gently on the couch, the tele-

  vision set tuned in to a rerun of “Murder She Wrote.” A

  stack of unpaid bills sat on the sideboard awaiting Daisy’s