Page 60 of Mister Cowboy
“No, he didn’t,” he said bitterly.
“And your parents never told either of you until Henry figured it out?”
Brecken shook his head. “I was upset that they’d all kept it from me and pissed that it had been what took Henry away. More than that, though, was that I couldn’t believe that my father had been able to go through life as if it were no big deal. To have no claim on his own son. I worked it out, Louisa would have been about three months pregnant when my parents married. He married one woman while another was knocked up with his kid.”
“Wow. That isn’t what I expected at all. So, Henry left, then you left, Louisa and Steven divorced, your mom got sick, and your dad was left all alone.”
“Yeah, pretty much. That one secret managed to break apart two families that had been as much a part of this ranch as the land itself.”
“Why didn’t they tell you and Henry sooner?”
“The million-dollar question,” he said, running his hands through her hair and watching the dark strands slide between his fingers.
“It’s sad, really. Don’t get me wrong. I understand your anger, but we all keep secrets from other people, even the ones closest to us, thinking we’re doing what’s best. I don’t disagree with what you did, but you have to wonder if they thought they were doing what was best for everyone.”
“What happened to always being honest?’”
“I still believe that, but I read the first entry in your father’s journal after you left home. He didn’t seem like a malicious man. What did your mother say about it all?”
“Nothing. I wouldn’t let her. Every time she tried to talk about it, I cut her off.” It hurt to breathe as he imagined all the things she had wanted to tell him and didn’t get a chance to say. “I was an asshole.”
“Maybe,” she said, and he loved that she didn’t make excuses for him. “Have you asked Louisa?”
“I thought about it, but no, I never asked her. I scoured that first journal for any smidge of information, but he said nothing. An entire childhood was just… contrived. When I sobered up, I vowed to never go back, and I kept that promise…until I met you.”
She turned to him with big eyes that he wanted to lose himself in and forget the pain in his chest from delving into the past. “I’m really sorry that happened to you.”
“Thank you.” He cleared his throat and shook off the feelings of insecurity that were building. She smiled softly and tilted her head to the side. He didn’t see pity in her eyes, something he would have hated, but he was ready to have the focus on anything but him “Your turn. Why did you really leave Chicago? Secret half-sister you didn’t find out about until you were eighteen?”
“No, nothing like that. I grew up in this lifestyle where everything had to appear perfect. The perfect father with his perfect daughter. Sometimes, it was hard to tell what he did because he loved me and what he did for show. Losing my mother was hard on him. I see that now, and we’re good. He did his best and I get that, but back then, I wanted the messy, fun childhood everyone else had. Or, you know, the ones I saw on television.”
“It’s easy to think everyone else has it better, I guess. I get that.”
“That’s the great thing about being an adult, we get to choose whatever life we want. I wanted to get out from under the Lyle family name and social circle, and I did that. You left this behind and built an amazing company.”
“And now what do you want?”
“Today, just this.” She squeezed his hand. “Someday, I want to get married and have a whole bunch of kids. A big van filled with them. Sunday dinners. Road trips Griswold style.”
“How many is a whole bunch?” Brecken asked, watching her closely.
“At least four.”
“Four?”
“I always wanted to be part of a big family. I was alone a lot as a kid. It would have been nice to have siblings to get into mischief with.”
“The mischief part is exactly what I’m worried about.”
Leaning in, he captured her face between his hands and brought his lips to hers. His heart beat in heavy thumps against his ribcage, and a new feeling of peace and contentment washed over him. He thought that telling her about his past would be hard, but it hadn’t been, and once he started talking, the words had kept coming.
The wind picked up, blowing January’s hair between them.
“We should get back before you freeze.”
“Wait.” She placed her hands on his chest. “Thank you. I know telling me that wasn’t easy. It means a lot to me.”
“Don’t worry. My confessions come with a price,” he said, jumping down from the tree and offering her a hand. She accepted it and placed her other hand on his shoulder as she hesitantly jumped down beside him.
