“What’s going on?” Jude asked.
“A girl I spent a weekend with says I’m the father of her baby.” Phoenix had no problem talking to his brothers. That’s how they’d gotten through the years after their father’s death. They shared with and depended on each other.
“Is it possible?” Quincy asked.
“Yep. She put my name on the birth certificate, but her friend said she wasn’t sure who the father was. Isn’t that a touching story?”
“Did you use protection?” Quincy kept up the questions.
“I always use protection.”
“Then you may not be.” Jude patted him on the shoulder. “Did she do a DNA test?”
“Yes.” Phoenix reached for his hat on the chair. “Now you two can stop smothering me. I may be the youngest, but I’m old enough to take care of my own life, even if I screw up every now and then.”
His mother joined the little group. “Did Phoenix tell you what’s going on?”
“Yes, Mom, I did. And now I have to go to a rodeo. I’ll let y’all know if I’m a daddy or not.”
“Phoenix, I want to talk to you.”
“Sorry, Mom, I’ve got to go.” No way was he having this conversation with his mother.
Quincy was a step behind him. “We’re here if you need us.”
Looking back at his older brother, Phoenix knew he could depend on Quincy for anything. Jude, too. And his other brothers. They were family. But this time Phoenix had to go this alone to sort through his own thoughts and everything that had happened back then.
Phoenix nodded. “See y’all in a couple weeks.” He walked out the door to the truck and travel trailer waiting in the driveway. Climbing into the passenger seat, he said, “Let’s go.”
Paxton shoved the shift into gear. “What’s going on? What did that woman want?”
“Just drive and get us out of Horseshoe, Texas.” Phoenix leaned back his head and pulled his hat over his eyes, hoping his brother would get the message. He didn’t want to talk.
The three-quarter-ton truck pulled the travel trailer with ease, but the ride was still bumpy, and Phoenix’s thoughts were even bumpier. He tried to remember Valerie and that time. It was a little blurry because they were drinking and having fun like he did after a lot of rodeos. Lately he and Paxton had slowed down. He hated to say it was an age thing. He preferred to look at it as maturity.
After the rodeo, Valerie and some girls had come back to the cowboy area and asked if they wanted to party. Of course, that was like asking a cowboy if he wanted beer. They went to a club and danced and drank and then went to a motel. The next night was much the same. Valerie made a beeline for him and they hooked up again. This time he sensed she was on something more than beer and figured she was just a little too wild for him. He wasn’t into the heavy stuff. He was a cowboy. Riding came first with him.
She’d wanted his number, and he’d given her a fake one because he knew he didn’t want to see her again. He remembered that vividly. Little things were starting to come back. Valerie was just a one-night stand. That would be sad if he was her child’s father. That wasn’t how children were supposed to be conceived. Oh, man.
He sat up straight and gazed out at the scenery flashing by. Rural Texas in September was still dry and hot, but the greenery was beginning to fade as signs of fall were creeping in.
“You ready to talk?” Paxton asked.
“No.”
“You don’t have to. I’ve already gotten messages from Quincy and Jude.”
“They’re like two mother hens.”
“You got caught, huh?”
“Shut up.” They rode for a while in silence and then Phoenix asked, “Do you remember Valerie Green?”
“No.”
“I’m having a hard time remembering her, too, but some of it’s coming back. A buckle bunny who wanted to have fun, and now she says I’m her kid’s dad. And don’t ask me if I used protection or I’ll hit you.”
“Why would I judge you? I could be in your boots.”
Phoenix and Paxton had traveled the circuit for years, and they knew each other better than anyone. They liked the girls who came to the rodeos. They couldn’t deny that. The women’s attention was a turn-on. But now Phoenix was wondering why he needed all that attention.
“I don’t feel like a father. Aren’t you supposed to feel those things?”
Paxton laughed, slapping his hand against the steering wheel. “You’re asking me?”
“Right. What was I thinking?” Paxton, with his charismatic charm and good looks, was the proverbial playboy. Around the rodeo circuit he was known as the “Heartthrob.” Women gravitated toward him, and he had his pick of anyone he wanted. At times that had gotten him into some jams. Last year a girl wrecked his whole rodeo season, but he’d straightened up his act, and now both of them were in the top ten cowboys in the country. They would be in Vegas for the big show come December if they didn’t screw up.
“You know, Pax, I’m changing my ways. It’s not a good feeling for someone to come out of the blue and say I might have a son. That’s irresponsible and immature. Dad would not be happy with me. From now on I will be choosy about whom I sleep with.”
“Yeah, right.” Paxton drove past two girls in a red Volkswagen. Once the girls saw the truck and trailer, with “Save a Horse. Ride a Cowboy.” sticker they honked their horn and waved out the window. Right there, Phoenix decided the girl thing was just too easy and he had to be more responsible. He wouldn’t give in to any more light flirtations.
His mind kept rolling with the miles, and he seemed to have a need to look back over his life and the rodeo. It had been one endless party, and he felt the weight of that for the first time. How could he have created a life and not know anything about it? That was unacceptable.
“Why do you think we need the excitement and attention of the rodeo?”
“Go back to sleep, Phoenix. You’re giving me a headache.”
“I’m serious. I think we crave the attention we got from our dad, and we get that from the rodeo and the girls.”
“Don’t bring Dad into this. You’re agonizing over this kid and he might not even be yours. Just go to sleep and don’t think about it until you get the call.”
That was easy for Pax to say. He hadn’t seen the face of the little boy or heard how he was crying for his great-grandma. For his own sanity, Phoenix leaned back and tried to sleep. It didn’t work. In his defense, he worked as hard as he played. It took a lot of training and skill to stay on an ornery bull for eight seconds. This past year they had put in a lot of effort to accomplish their goals, including the ultimate prize—competing, and winning, at the National Finals Rodeo. Phoenix had won the gold buckle in bull riding last year, and he was hoping to repeat. Paxton was close on his heels. If he had to lose, he’d want to lose to his brother.
In Wichita Falls, they switched drivers, and Phoenix drove all the way to Oklahoma. They arrived at the rodeo grounds in the late afternoon. The rodeo was tonight, and trucks and trailers were parked everywhere. The travel trailer was much better than sleeping in the truck, which they’d done for a lot of years before they’d started to make money.
Phoenix pulled up behind a truck and trailer with stripes down the side.
“Would you look at that?”
Paxton sat up and straightened his hat. “That’s a fancy outfit.”
“I’m