Branded as Trouble

CHAPTER SIX

ROMAN HADN’T BEEN sure there was anything worse than his mother’s annoying verbal jabs. But there was. And it was his son’s silence.

Now that Belle had been sent home the day before, Tate and he had the room to themselves. Something that Roman had wanted. That’s because he’d envisioned it giving them a chance to have some long, meaningful conversations.

It hadn’t.

Tate was playing with the yo-yo Vita had sent him while he watched some show about soy farmers. Not that there was a good channel selection on the hospital TV, but it was a hit to the ego that his son preferred organic soy farming to him. Before that, Tate had preferred a documentary on dwindling fly-fishing spots. Before that, he’d played a game on his phone until the battery had died. When no one had been able to find him a charger, the marathon of compelling TV had started.

Roman wasn’t sure how much longer this would go on. They were waiting on Dr. Sanchez to give them a yay or nay verdict. Nay would mean they’d have to stay in the hospital one more day.

A yay would mean they could go home.

Tate was fine physically and probably could have already left, but Roman was thankful the doctor had kept the boy with him. This way, they could leave for home together instead of Tate having to stay with the housekeeper, Garrett or Sophie.

“As soon as we get home, I’ll start looking for a new school for you,” Roman threw out there. Like everything else he’d said to his son, he rethought that. Maybe Tate wasn’t mentally ready for school yet, but he couldn’t imagine that it would be a good idea for him to just sit around in between therapy appointments.

And there would be therapy.

Dr. Woodliff had already made it clear that he wanted to see Tate indefinitely.

“I can drive you back here for your sessions,” Roman added, rethinking that, too. It was possible that just the thought of therapy was depressing for Tate.

It sure as heck was depressing for him.

So was the fact that he was getting behind at work. Of course, that depression was to a much lesser degree than what he was feeling for Tate. Roman had delegated some of the work to his assistant, and his business partner, Lucky McCord, had taken on some, as well. But sooner or later, Roman needed to tackle at least some of the paperwork. The trips he’d have to hand off, too, since he didn’t want to be away from Tate until things were back to normal.

That was another depressing thought.

Normal hadn’t been exactly stellar what with Tate’s surly moods. Roman hoped the new normal was an improvement, but he would settle for a life where his son didn’t feel the need to take pills to dull his pain.

“Will my mom be at my appointments with the doctor?” Tate asked.

It wasn’t an out-of-the-blue question. Dr. Woodliff had said that Valerie should come for some of the therapy sessions. Roman had nixed that at first, but then the doctor had reminded him that Valerie was at the root of this.

Root.

Yeah, she was. But that didn’t mean she would help matters if she came. She could only stir up Tate and make things worse. She’d stir up Roman, too. Not in a good way, either. There was no trace of the love he’d once felt for her, but there sure as heck was a lot of resentment.

Still, Roman had tried to call Valerie, using the last phone number he had for her. It was no longer in service so he’d asked Clay to try to track her down. Roman had even had his housekeeper take Clay the envelope that had arrived for Tate the day of the suicide attempt. There hadn’t been a return address on it, nor any hint of Valerie’s whereabouts inside. It had been just another recycled card, this one for his birthday. But there had been a postmark, and it was possible Clay could track her down using it. That was one of the few advantages to having a cop in the family. That, and the fact that his sister was crazy in love with the guy.

There was a knock at the door, and Roman sat up, figuring it was Dr. Sanchez. But it was Garrett. His big brother glanced at him, at Tate, the yo-yo and then at the TV.

“Well, hell. No wonder you’re down in the dumps,” Garrett said, clearly not afraid to address the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room. “Here, this might help.” He dropped a phone charger on the bed and handed Tate a brown paper bag. “Burger and fries from the diner. I asked them to add some extra grease for you.”

Tate reached for both right away. “Thanks, Uncle Garrett.” He sounded so happy that Roman was surprised he didn’t add some “gee-whizzes” to that. Tate plugged in his phone and started in on the burger.

“Is that an extra grease burger for me?” Roman tipped his head to the second bag his brother was holding.

Garrett shook his head. “The doc said you’re still on a restricted diet so I got you some crackers and vanilla pudding.” He flashed his golden boy smile, the one that made him the darling of Wrangler’s Creek. “It’s not whipped cream, but it’ll have to do.”

Roman scowled at him. A long, mean scowl. Obviously, Belle had been blabbering. Thankfully, Tate didn’t ask about the whipped cream reference, probably because he couldn’t hear over his own chewing. He was wolfing down the burger as if it were the cure for everything that ailed him.

“So, when are they springing you from this place?” Garrett gave Tate’s bare foot a tug.

Tate shrugged. “Dad was just talking about that. Soon, I guess.” He stopped in midbite and perked up again. “Do I have to go back to San Antonio? Can I stay with you, Aunt Nicky and Kaylee at the ranch?”

Kaylee was Nicky’s four-year-old daughter. Hardly a companion for a teenager. In fact, there was no one at the ranch anywhere near Tate’s age.

Garrett looked at Roman. “That’s up to your dad, but you know you’re welcome anytime. Your dad owns the ranch, you know?”

“Yeah, I know, but he hates it there because of Grandma fussing at him. But I don’t hate it there.”

Roman nearly pointed out that Tate hadn’t spent a single night at the ranch, but he had visited a couple of times. However, this probably had more to do with Tate not wanting to return to his friends, because he would have to give some kind of explanation about why he’d been gone. Of course, most of those friends already knew he’d been expelled from school so they might think he’d already moved on.

Garrett turned to Roman, and while he didn’t smile exactly, Roman thought his brother might be fighting back doing so. That’s because Garrett wanted Roman back at the ranch. He was the person in the family who was always trying to get them all under the same roof.

But his mother was under that roof, too.

“I’d love for both of you to stay,” Garrett said to Tate. “But it’s up to your dad. He probably has something pressing back in San Antonio.”

Yes, Roman did. His sanity was what was pressing. It was bad enough being here in town, and despite the safe words his mother had come up with, Roman doubted she’d stick to using them. No, once the shock of her heart problem had worn off, she’d be back to her own harping self. And he’d be back to snapping at the harping. Not exactly a peaceful environment for his son.

Then Tate said something that changed everything.

“Please, Dad.”

That was it.

Two little words that had plenty of emotion behind them.

Roman’s kneejerk reaction was still to say no. Their life and home weren’t here. His job wasn’t, either. Plus, there was that whole other part about the ranch being a crap-pit for him. Too many memories. Too much bad blood.

“Please,” Tate repeated. “Can we go there together?”

And that question erased any argument Roman could have given him. However, Roman could put some conditions on it.

“Okay, we can stay at the ranch.” Roman was surprised a thunderbolt didn’t hit him because he’d sworn he wouldn’t go back there. “But only for a couple of days. Just until you’re feeling better.” Until he was feeling better, as well, since Roman wasn’t sure how fast he’d be back at full speed.

Judging from Tate’s frown, he didn’t like Roman’s condition. “Uh, I was thinking I could finish out the school year here. It’d only be for six weeks,” he quickly added. “I could go to school here and keep on seeing Dr. Woodliff without having to drive back and forth.”

Obviously, Tate had given this a lot of thought. Too bad he hadn’t let Roman in on it so he could have figured out if this was a good solution or a disaster in the making. Garrett was of no help. His brother just shrugged.

“You might not be able to get into school here,” Roman reminded him. “They might not take transfers this late in the semester.”

“Dr. Woodliff said they would. He said his wife is a teacher there and that he could help me with it if that’s what we decided to do.”

So, Tate hadn’t only thought about this, he had also talked to his therapist about it.

“You wouldn’t have to go to the ranch with me,” Tate went on. “I know you’re busy and all with the rodeo stuff. But I’d be okay there without you. I mean, it’s not like I need a sitter or anything.”

No. But Tate did need a father.

And Roman needed his son.

Garrett lifted his eyebrow but didn’t smile. That’s because he knew what Roman was about to say. Best not to gloat especially when the gloatee might punch him first chance he got.

“Okay,” Roman said. “We’ll stay at the ranch.”

Tate smiled. Actually, it was more of a grin. “Thanks, Dad.”

He would have said it a thousand times just to get that kind of response from his boy. But saying it and living it were two different things entirely.

Roman hoped like the devil that he didn’t regret this.

* * *

ROMAN REGRETTED THIS.

The moment he stepped into the house at the ranch, he felt as if he’d gotten sucked into a circle of hell that Dante had forgotten to mention.

Home.

Home was a good place to be if it wasn’t filled with shit memories. And this place was doused in them. Added to that, there was a hoard of people there to greet Tate and him. Alice, the housekeeper. Lawson, his cousin. Sophie, Nicky, Kaylee, Clay, his mother and an old family friend, Billy Lee Seaver. They didn’t exactly shout “surprise” when Tate and Roman walked in with Garrett, but it was obvious that this was some kind of celebration.

No Mila, though. Roman had thought she might be here for this. But she was probably still at work.

The hugs started, and even though they tried to keep them gentle because of his surgery, Roman winced a few times. Winced, too, when his mother told him he needed a haircut. He probably did, but he made a mental note not to get one while he was there. Yes, it was childish, but his mother brought that out in him.

“You have your old rooms, of course,” Sophie said.

She took the gift bag from Vita and some flowers that Roman was holding. Actually, there were six bouquets in all, most sent by his business associates. Tate and Garrett had those, and Alice hurried to take them so that Sophie could show them to their rooms.

Roman didn’t need her help finding his, but he didn’t know exactly where his mom had set up a room for Tate. He only knew that she had done it because she’d mentioned it any time he was around her. Of course, she always mentioned it as a complaint that Roman had never let the boy stay there.

The house was sprawling by anyone’s standards, and they went down the hall where there were several bedrooms. His was exactly as he’d left it thirteen years ago, right down to the rodeo trophies he’d won, and the motorcycle magazines. It was like walking into a time capsule preserved in that circle of hell.

“Your room’s right next door to your dad,” Sophie told Tate.

It was a good room. Big and with windows that overlooked the barns and pastures. Roman knew that because it was the same view he had.

“Your housekeeper brought some clothes and such,” Sophie went on. She tipped her head to a suitcase on the floor in Roman’s room.

Garrett came in and put the flowers on the desk. His mother was hovering right behind his brother. At least the others hadn’t followed for this part of the homecoming. Not that Roman didn’t want to see them. He did. He just didn’t want to see them right now.

“You want to go for a ride?” Garrett asked Tate. “We got in some new horses this morning, and we can see how they do.”

“Yeah.” Tate was obviously eager to do that.

“I would ask you, but you’re not in any shape to get in a saddle,” Garrett added to Roman.

“He’s supposed to be on bed rest,” his mother reminded him.

“So are you,” Roman reminded her right back.

Hell. He had to stop this snapping. Roman didn’t want to drag Tate’s mood down to his own shitty level.

“You want to take a nap?” Sophie asked him when Garrett and Tate headed out. His mother finally left, too.

“Sure.” That was a lie. Roman just wanted a moment so he could steel himself up for the rest of this visit. Six weeks. It suddenly felt like an eternity.

Sophie smiled, kissed his cheek. “My advice? If you need a place to escape, come to the guest cottage. That’s where my office is and there’s plenty of room. There’s enough office space for you, too. Temporary office space,” she added.

“Thanks. For both the offer and the temporary part.”

“I know this isn’t easy for you, but it’ll be nice to have you around.”

“So Garrett won’t have to courier all the paperwork from the ranch that I need to sign,” he commented.

“That, and we love you. You didn’t forget that, did you?”

No. It was the one thing that had given him any sort of anchor. Especially after Valerie had left. Roman took hold of her arm, eased her closer. Well, as close as he could, considering her huge belly, and he brushed a kiss on the top of Sophie’s head.

“I love you, too, Prissy Pants,” he said.

Because it was an old childhood nickname that she hated, it got the exact reaction he expected. Sophie punched his arm. And she was good at it, too. It stung like hell. He’d obviously taught her the right way to punch.

“You know I can always smother you in your sleep, Quick Zipper,” she fired back.

Ah, good one. Roman hated it as much as she did Prissy Pants. He hadn’t always hated it, though. Once he’d thought it was cool that the other teenagers had considered him, well, a guy-slut who got a lot of action. But after he’d knocked up Valerie, the label just made him feel like a guy-slut who should have been more careful.

Sophie’s gaze went to the window where Roman saw Garrett and Tate heading for the barn. “Can Tate ride?” she asked.

“Yeah. He’s had lessons.”

Lessons. That made him wince, too. He was an eighth-generation Texan from a long line of ranchers. It seemed a little like nails on a chalkboard to realize that his son hadn’t grown up riding. Maybe he could change that. Since Tate was going to have to move schools, anyway, maybe Roman should buy a place in the country where they could have horses.

Sophie put the gift bag on the desk, and even though he didn’t actually see her look inside, she must have gotten a peek of the condom. “Did Vita expect you to need that while you were here?”

“Who knows with Vita.”

She made a sound of agreement. “Because Vita gave Mila a condom, too, along with some mumbo jumbo about there being some big changes in her life.”

Judging from Sophie’s tone, she thought this was all connected. It was, but the only connection was in Vita’s warped mind.

“Mila and I aren’t hooking up,” he assured his sister. “I don’t hook up with virgins.”

“Good.”

Well, he hadn’t expected that. Roman had always gotten the feeling that Sophie was trying to matchmake Mila and him.

“Despite what Mila thinks right now,” Sophie continued, “she’s not the casual sex type. And she shouldn’t have sex with some guy from a dating site just because she no longer wants to be a virgin.”

Since Roman could see himself in the dresser mirror, he knew he made a face. “Is that what she’s doing?”

Sophie made a face, too. One of disapproval. “She’s considering it. Mom gave her these dating sites, and Mila said she was going to use one of them.”

Roman had to do a mental double take. “Why would Mom give Mila anything about a dating site? It was Mom who was asking Mila about them.”

“No. That was Mila’s fantasy dating sites.” She stopped. “How’d you know about that?”