Page 92 of One Lucky Cowboy

“Why didn’t you tell me then? I lost so many years with him.”

“I’m sorry.”

The shock threw Jax back in his seat.

“I wanted to tell RJ—that’s what she called him—about you earlier, but she forbade me to.”

Jax’s breath stalled in his lungs. He didn’t dare try to exhale and risk breaking whatever spell it was that made Renato Kellerman tell him everything he’d wondered about since Ren had come onto his property weeks earlier.

“Why—” He swallowed and hissed out the breath through gritted teeth. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because when he calls me from the ranch to say good night, I see the joy he feels. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. The boy should have that kind of love all the time.” He braced his hands on his knees and stood. Jax took the hand he held out. “If you’re up for it, I won’t fight you for custody. You two are doing just fine, and a boy deserves a father like you.”

“What about the lawyers? You fought me just to take him this month.”

Renato’s chin fell. “I did. And I’m not ashamed of that. I wanted to know who you’d become. Even though I haven’t always done right by Ren, I love him more than … more than anything. I was trying to protect him, but now I see there wasn’t any cause for concern.”

“I love him more than anything, too.”

“I know.” Renato’s hand landed on Jax’s shoulder. “I should’ve found you sooner, Jackson. I’m sorry. Being on my daughter’s side seemed important at first, but she made the choices she did, and now it’s up to us to make sure we do the right thing by Ren.”

“I agree. So, what does this mean?”

Renato dug in his jacket pocket and produced a folded envelope. “Here. This’ll list you as the biological father with full rights. Sign it, submit it to the courts, and he’s yours. You’re a father, but you get to choose if you want to be a dad. If not, I’m here, but I had my time. This one’s yours.”

Pride swelled in Jax’s chest, flooding his limbs. “Thank you. I won’t let either of you down.”

“I don’t believe you will. I can’t apologize for my daughter and what she did to keep him from you, but I’ll support you in whatever you need going forward.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and sat back down. “Before you head up, can I give you one more piece of advice?”

“Shoot.” Jax would need ten years to process what he’d learned the past ten minutes. What was one more surprise?

“Listen to the boy and to yourself. I don’t know you that well, but I know him, and you’re more similar than you realize. He’s not happy in Austin. The city’s not for him any more than it is for a cowboy like you. If you two talk about a way to stay at the ranch, I’ll keep the apartment up so y’all can come visit any time you want.”

“You’d do that?”

Renato shrugged. “Of course. You’re family.”

Jax bit his lip. There was merit to that, but what would he do on the ranch? He didn’t want to be in management anymore, and Bennett was already working to find someone to fill that spot. Had he just talked himself out of the life that was actually meant for him?

If only there was a way he could do what Manny did without putting the guy out of a job. Ren could go to Deer Creek High School like his dad and uncles before him, maybe intern with Steel Born as well. It sounded good on paper, but so many details about how to handle the logistics stayed out of view.

Oh well. It didn’t matter, because his son was okay, and he was mending things with his family. Jill was the only unknown, but hopefully, if he apologized right, she would give him a second chance.

“Thank you, Renato.”

“You bet. Now, go see our boy and tell him his grandfather says to be more careful next time.”

*

“I can’t go,” Jill said. She hung her hand under the table with a piece of salmon and felt the tiny leathery tongue lap it up. “I mean, I want to, believe me. But no one in that family wants me there.”

She sighed.

“I sent flowers and Ren’s favorite triple chocolate mini bundt cakes and a side of the dark chocolate ganache. That’s good enough, right?” She glanced at the wrapped, framed photo she’d made as well but lacked the courage to send. It was too personal, too much.

Lily licked the flake of salmon off her lips and sighed.

“I know. It’s only mildly pathetic that I’m talking to a dog instead of my best friend and her family. But I messed up. They probably hate me.”

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