Branded as Trouble. Delores FossenЧитать онлайн книгу.
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