One Good Cowboy(33)
Author: Catherine Mann

“Why would I?” Stone retorted quickly. “If Gran wants to see her, she’ll tell her.”

Alex lifted a lazy eyebrow. “Have you ever considered we should overrule Gran? Not just on this, but on other issues, as well. You have to confess that this test thing to decide the future of a huge estate is more than a little half-baked.”

Stone stared at Alex in surprise. His cousin was a man of few words, so a speech that long carried extra weight.

Amie crossed her arms tightly, a wrist full of delicate silver bangles jangling. “You can’t be saying what I think. You can’t intend to have Gran declared unfit to manage her affairs.”

“I think we should consider it,” Alex said somberly. “She even said she planned this test for you because she was afraid the tumor might affect her judgment. What if it’s too late?”

Stone hated even considering it. But had he disregarded warning signs about his grandmother out of a selfish need to have Johanna back in his life? “This isn’t a question we can answer on our own. We need to speak with her doctors. Agreed? Alex?”

His cousin held up both hands. “Fair enough. And about contacting your mom?”

Damn. He scrubbed a hand along his jaw. “If you want to call my mother, do it, but I have nothing to say to her. And when she does something to hurt Gran—and trust me, my mother will—it will be on your conscience.”

He pivoted away to end the conversation only to find Johanna standing behind him, her worried eyes making it clear she’d overheard at least part of their exchange. He slid an arm around her shoulders. “Johanna, let’s go. We need to take care of Ruby and Pearl.”

The weight of Alex’s jealous gaze seared his back. For his entire life, his grandmother, the ranch and time with his cousins had been his stability, his grounding force. In the span of the week, all of that was being threatened. Without his grandmother as the glue, would their family hold together?

Johanna had accused him of not understanding how she felt when she lost her whole family. For the first time, he fully grasped what she meant. The impending sense of loss left a hole in his chest. And the prospect of having his mother roll into town creating havoc did little to reassure him.

He tucked Johanna closer to his side and wondered if he could dig deep enough to keep her this time.

* * *

Johanna curled against Stone’s side, resting her head on his shoulder and soaking in the feel of his fingers stroking up and down her arm. The ceiling fan in her bedroom gusted cooling air over her bared flesh. So easily, they’d fallen into old habits, tossing aside their clothes the second they crossed the threshold of her cabin.

They hadn’t even discussed it or questioned it. They’d sought the blissful escape of losing themselves in each other. The ease of that unsettled her. Eventually they would have to resolve the differences that had made her walk before. The past seven months had been hell, but they couldn’t just pretend the future didn’t matter, even if lounging in her lavender-scented sheets with him felt deliciously decadent.

Stone kissed the top of her head, the stubble on his chin catching in her hair. “My cousins brought up something at the hospital that I can’t ignore, as much as I might wish otherwise.”

She glanced up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to have to tell my mother about Mariah’s cancer.”

“Oh, wow, I hadn’t even considered that…” The last she’d heard of his mother, Jade had been living with a boyfriend in Paris. “Is she still in France?”

As best as Johanna could remember, Jade had moved in with a wealthy wine merchant about four years ago and hadn’t come home since. Johanna had gotten the feeling Jade was hiding as far away from her family as she could.

Stone shook his head. “She’s in Atlanta now. She went through another rehab two months ago and decided to stay near her shrink rather than go back to her fast-living wine merchant sugar daddy. Having such a large trust fund can be a blessing and a curse. Too much cash on hand to feed the habit, but plenty of money to get the best care during the next detox.”

She had few memories of his mom, most of them conflicted, depending on if she was in the middle of a frenetic drug binge or somberly drained from another stint in rehab. “How do you feel about that?”

He eyed her wryly. “How do you think I feel?”

“Not happy?”

“Mariah doesn’t need the drama draining what strength she has.”

Johanna slid her arm around him, hugging him, her leg nestled between his. “I agree, but eventually she’ll have to be told.”

He nodded, his chin brushing the top of her head again. A long sigh shuddered through him. “I was a crack baby.”

His stark declaration caught her by surprise, stunning her still and silent. She scrambled for the right thing to say but could only hold him tighter to let him know she was here to listen. In fact, she wished he had trusted her enough to open up before now. “Stone, I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say. People assume it’s a poverty issue, but that’s not always the case. My mother was addicted to cocaine when I was born. I didn’t know that until I was an adult and saw my medical records. I just thought I needed all those developmental therapists and tutors as a kid because I wasn’t as smart as my cousins.” He kept skimming his hand along her back as if taking comfort from the feel of her. “My first days on this earth were spent detoxing.”

She pressed a kiss to his collarbone, still too choked up to speak. Her eyes burned with tears she knew he wouldn’t want to see. Thank God, Mariah had been there for him.

His hand kept up the steady rhythm. “I don’t like to take medicines. I figure with a junkie mom, genetics aren’t on my side as a father,” he said darkly, the deeper implication clear, explaining the mystery of why he seemed so determined to deny himself a family of his own. “And what if that early addiction is still there lurking, waiting to be triggered again?”

She blinked back the tears and tipped her head to look up at him. “What does your doctor say?”

His handsome features were strained, his jaw flexing. “Not to snort coke.”

She skimmed her fingers over the furrows in his forehead. “How can you make jokes about this?”

“It’s better this way.” He captured her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I want you to understand why I’m not comfortable being a father or passing along my genes to future generations.”