Kayla's Cowboy. Callie Endicott
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grandmother’s eyes and wondered if she shouldn’t have mentioned the drinking.
“I’m not sure what we did wrong,” Elizabeth murmured.
“You can’t assume it was you. People just lose their way sometimes.”
“You didn’t.”
“I got pregnant at sixteen—hardly a sterling example of stability.”
Elizabeth shook her head firmly. “That was just a teenage misstep. It’s what you did afterward that’s important. We just wish you’d let us help.”
“That money you gave me when we left Schuyler was a big help.”
“I’m not just talking about money.”
“I know.” Kayla thought back through the years. “But Granddad was the mayor. I didn’t want what I’d done to embarrass either of you. Even now, there’s going to be gossip.”
“The hell with that,” Elizabeth shocked her by saying. She stopped and asked gently, “Is that why you stayed away?”
“Partly. I was the one who’d screwed up and felt I should deal with it. But it’s also because I didn’t want to see Jackson after some things he’d said. I guess life just...settled into a habit. Besides, it would have meant Alex finding out about his biological father, and Curtis didn’t want that.”
“I understand, but Alex spoke to a number of people while trying to find our house. I’ve already gotten calls about how much he resembles the McGregors,” Elizabeth said.
“I know, and word will get around to Jackson, as well. I’ll talk to Alex about it tonight.”
At her grandfather’s law office, Kayla didn’t scold her son, just gave him a fierce hug. “Be thinking about what you’re going to say later,” she said when he looked at her cautiously.
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m glad you’re helping Granddad,” she added.
Alex hastily went back to the stockroom where he’d been dusting and sorting office supplies.
Granddad was meeting with a client, so they continued walking downtown, her grandmother introducing her to everyone they saw. Schuyler still had the charm of a Western town with a blacksmith and farrier, saddle shop and spots for locals to hitch their horses if needed. It was just everyday life and tourists loved it.
As they stepped into the Schuyler Soda Saloon, the eerie workings of fate seemed to stir around them. Across the room she saw Jackson, or someone who looked an awful lot like him.
It had been sixteen years, and her old boyfriend’s face had become fuzzy in her memory. Now she was startled, realizing how much Alex took after Jackson. Yet as Jackson strode forward, some of the resemblance seemed to fade. Alex was a sweet, awkward, open-faced teenager, whereas Jackson radiated the pent-up energy of a stalking mountain lion.
Jackson cast a glance at her, kept walking, then stopped and turned around.
“Kayla Garrison?”
Kayla tensed, hoping gossip about Alex hadn’t gotten around quite this quickly. “Actually, it’s Kayla Anderson now. It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah, high school,” Jackson said. He stirred restlessly and his gaze swept the ice cream parlor.
“Is there a problem?” Elizabeth asked politely.
“No, nothing. Good to see you, Mrs. Garrison. Welcome back, Kayla.” Jackson tipped his cowboy hat to them and hurried out the door.
They ordered chocolate sodas and found a small corner table.
“I wonder what Jackson was doing here. He was never crazy about sweets,” Kayla murmured.
“Who knows? This is one of the local hot spots to get the latest gossip, though I admit he doesn’t seem to be one for idle chitchat. It could be something to do with his daughter—I hear she’s turned into a real handful.”
Kayla clenched her fingers, unable to decide how she felt about seeing her old boyfriend; she was too tired and frazzled. But meeting Jackson had emphasized the need to speak with Alex about his biological father as soon as possible. It wouldn’t be the easiest discussion. Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to keep the adoption a secret, but it was what Curtis had wanted.
“I think we should change our order to takeout,” Elizabeth announced suddenly. She went to the old-fashioned marble counter and spoke to the cashier, returning a few minutes later with two large plastic cups.
Grateful, Kayla took hers and they headed for the door. They strolled around town, sipping their ice cream sodas and trying to catch up on the past sixteen years. Yet in the back of her mind, Kayla kept wondering if Jackson remembered his reaction when she’d told him she was pregnant...that he’d used condoms, so obviously the other boys were right about her sleep-around reputation.
Kayla straightened her back. Her son was safe and she’d already weathered some of the worst stuff life could throw at her. She would handle Jackson, one way or the other.
* * *
“I HATE YOU,” Morgan yelled, her blond hair bouncing. “Go ahead, hate me back.”
Jackson McGregor glared at his daughter, though he still chose his words carefully. Unfortunately, he’d had plenty of practice lately. “I don’t hate you,” he said. “But right now I’m struggling to like you as much as I usually do.”
“You think you’re so clever. Why can’t I go to the lake for the weekend?”
“At your age? A girl? With a bunch of the wildest kids in school, with no adults? Do you think I’ve lost my mind?”
Morgan stomped her foot. “If I was a guy you’d let me go, and that’s not fair. It’s a...a double standard. The other kids will think I’m a nun. Can’t you try to remember what it was like in high school?”
“I remember all too well, and I’ll be damned if I make it easy for you to repeat my mistakes.”
“Yeah, I know all about your mistakes.”
“Then, you should realize that I know what I’m talking about,” he told her.
“Yeah, you had fun, but you don’t want me to have any at all.”
Jackson counted to ten as his daughter disappeared around the corner of the barn. Morgan had always been strong willed, but lately she’d gone completely ornery and seemed determined to drive him crazy. It was a miracle if a day passed without a shouting match. As for being grounded, she did her best to make it appear as if she was disobeying him. Just that afternoon she’d hidden in the hayloft of one of the barns, letting him think she’d sneaked into town. He’d wasted hours looking for her. Lately he’d been in Schuyler far too often, tracking her down for one reason or another.
Just a few months ago she’d hacked her hair into a hideous spiky cut. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d begun adding a dramatic fluorescent streak down one side, using a selection of temporary dyes. Every morning it had been a different color. Though her hair had grown out, it put him on edge, wondering what she’d do next. Hell, much as he loved her, raising a boy might have been easier.
Jackson trotted up the patio steps and into the house, tempted to call his mother and ask for advice. But it wasn’t fair to load his problems onto her. His parents had raised their own family and two of his cousins, as well. They’d done their duty.
He glanced at Flora, the woman he’d hired to keep house. “Any pearls of wisdom to share?” he asked.
Flora shrugged. “Afraid not.” She was sitting at the kitchen table, snapping string beans. She worked hard and was a great cook but hadn’t connected with Morgan as much as he’d hoped. Not that it was a housekeeper’s job to provide motherly guidance.
“What are you doing