Page 76 of The Cowboy Who Worked Late

“I heard you the first time, Momma,” Rich griped, and he stomped around Paul’s truck, tossed his overnight bag in the back of it, and climbed in the passenger seat. Paul looked at all of them with wide eyes and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him.”

And of course he would. Paul was steady and strong and rational—and he usually got along great with Momma and Daddy.

Henry added his bag next to the cooler and helped Momma lift hers up. “You can really ride with them too,” she said.

“Don’t need to,” Henry said. “Besides, I want to talk to you and Daddy about something.”

Daddy paused at the corner of the truck and looked at Henry. “About what?”

“Not right here,” Henry growled at him, lifted the tailgate, and then helped Daddy pull back the cover so that their stuff wouldn’t get rained on, blown around, or dusted as they drove to Waco.

He sat in the back seat while his parents got situated in the front, and they let Paul lead out. Henry didn’t say anything until they reached the highway, and then he said, “It’s real good news about him and Brielle. They sure seem happy.”

“You haven’t met her yet, have you?” Momma asked, her mood completely different now.

“Not yet,” Henry said. “But I’m sure there’s gonna be plenty of time for us to get to know each other.” He and Paul had both been invited to the next luncheon here in Three Rivers, but with Henry taking this time off, he didn’t think he was going to be able to make it.

Dawson would host in June, and that would be an easier drive, as Henry could take the back roads south to the southern ranches instead of having to come all the way into town and then go north again.

Of course, not everyone could make it to every luncheon. And Henry didn’t own a ranch here in Three Rivers, so he already felt out of place. Alex did, as did Finn, Paul, Dawson, and Link, and he was happy that they’d formed a little crew of men their own age, doing similar things with their family ranches that they could talk to each other about and support one another.

His daddy had always had his best friend—Uncle Squire—and they had a whole host of cowboys at Three Rivers they could rely on. It reminded him a lot of Lone Star, except Three Rivers Ranch raised cattle and Lone Star boarded horses.

“You better start talking,” Daddy said. “It’s a long drive.”

Henry glanced up to the rearview mirror and found his father watching him, not the road. “I’m thinkin’.”

“Makes me nervous when I know you got something to say, and you’re not saying it.” Daddy looked away, but everything about him remained relaxed, comfortable.

Henry wished he could experience all of that in this moment. “You really don’t trust me at all, do you?” He chuckled, and added quickly, “I know you do.”

“Of course we do,” Momma said.

“I just said I know you do,” Henry said. He heaved in a breath and then let it all blow out. “Listen. This is not a big deal. It’s nothing serious or anything.” He rolled one shoulder that had been aching since a particularly tough re-shoeing a couple of weeks ago.

“I mean, itisserious. It’s not nothing, but it’s not like I’m moving across the country or anything like that. I’m still going to graduate, so you guys can relax a little bit.”

The wheels kept rolling, and Henry tried to get his thoughts lined up.

“So this is a woman thing,” Daddy said, no question mark in sight.

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, if it’s not school-related and it’s not job-related—we already know you’re staying at Lone Star for another year—it’s gotta have something to do with a woman.” Daddy’s piercing eyes met his in the rearview mirror again, and Henry held them this time.

“Yeah, all right,” he said. “I’m dating Angel White.” Just like that, the confession came right out. He didn’t trip over his tongue. He didn’t feel nervous about it. He wasn’t embarrassed.

“I told you he was dating her,” Momma said, swatting at Daddy’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t when we came,” Henry said, just for clarification. “That’s about when we started.”

“I thought there was a no-dating rule at your ranch,” Daddy said.

“There was,” Henry said. “But Angel’s in charge now, and she changed it.”

“Hm.” Daddy hummed, and Henry realized for the first time that he’d picked up his humming habit from his father. He loved his father, he did, but he had worked to become his own person inside the parameters of what his parents had taught him.

And he’d never realized about the humming.

---