“He’s very good at what he does,” she was murmuring to his father. “The entire time we were in the woods, he was never lost at all.”
“He was a smart boy,” his father commented, his voice raspy.
“Oh, honey,” Beth Ann said with a laugh. She called everyone honey. Everyone but him, he realized. “He is sharp like a whip. And never worried a lick about us getting lost, either. He just took care of the situation. We didn’t know which way was north at one point, so he made a compass—”
The door creaked as he pushed it open a bit farther, and both of them turned to look at him. Beth Ann’s gentle smile made his heart stutter with love.
His father’s gaze was wary. “Son.”
“Hi, Colt,” Beth Ann said, and waved her nail buff at him. “I was just helping your dad get cleaned up.”
He nodded, moved to his dad’s side. His throat went dry; he didn’t know what to say. After a moment, he brushed a stray hair off of his dad’s shoulder. “Just don’t let her put a pink streak in your hair.”
The old man chuckled. “She mentioned a bow.”
“A ponytail,” Beth Ann said in a mock huff. “And that was only if he wanted to keep his hair long. Which he didn’t. And he looks very handsome now. Just like his son.”
Beth Ann smiled, and Colt smiled back at her. His dad, however, wasn’t smiling any longer. He was watching Beth Ann thoughtfully.
Colt couldn’t take his eyes off her, either. He was so proud of her. Here was his redneck father, the town’s biggest joke, and she was helping him fix his hair and bragging to him about Colt. He got that damn knot in his throat again. God, he loved her so much. He wanted to pull her into his arms and bury his face in her hair. She was at his side. Whatever he had to do to take care of this, she was at his side and would support him.
He suddenly felt like the luckiest f**king man on earth.
He moved to his dad’s side, took his hand, clasped it. “I had Dane swing by and get Roscoe, Dad. He’s going to stay out at the ranch for a few days.”
His dad nodded, looking over him. “You look good, son. Like a man.”
He nodded. Because hell, what could he say to that?
The older man’s eyes brimmed suddenly. “You look like your mother.”
Beth Ann cast Colt an anxious look and she hopped to her feet. “I’m heading down to the cafeteria to get some snacks. I’ll pick up some stuff and be back shortly.” She leaned in and kissed Colt on the cheek before slipping out of the room.
Colt said nothing, simply gripped his father’s hand as he composed himself. He wiped his eyes with shaking hands, then nodded at the door. “Isn’t that Allan Sunquist’s girl?”
He gritted his teeth. “They broke up last year, Dad. She’s with me.” I love her.
But his father looked concerned. “Allan must be furious. He’s never liked you.”
“I don’t care what he thinks, Dad.”
He shook his head. “He hates you because of your mother. You just be careful of him, Colt. Those Sunquist men can be ruthless bastards. They don’t care who they hurt as long as they get their way.”
Odd that they were talking about this. “Beth Ann is done with him, Dad. I’ve got it taken care of.”
“She’s never going to be done with him as long as you’re with her, son.” He shook his head. “Find yourself a different girl. A girl that Sunquist boy don’t have his sights on.”
Irritation flashed through him. A girl that wasn’t out of reach of a Waggoner boy, did he mean? “I’m with Beth Ann. She’s the one that I want, and I’m not changing my mind just because Allan is obsessed with her.”
“It’s not just her,” his father said. “It’s you. You and your mother.”
“What the f**k does Mom have to do with anything?” he exploded, then bit his lip. Christ. He was yelling at a sick man in a hospital bed.
But his father seemed to accept his outburst. He patted Colt’s hand. “Because of your mother,” he repeated. “And who you are.”
“And who am I?” he asked in a dry voice.
“Not my son,” Henry said quietly.
Colt stiffened. He hadn’t heard that right. “Come again?”
Henry gave him a guilty look, ran a hand down his haggard face. “It’s true. I’m not your real father, Colt. Andrew Sunquist is. Your mother slept with him, got pregnant, and when he wouldn’t marry her, she married me.”
Colt stared down at him in shock. “You’re delirious. The meds—”
“Allan knows, son,” he said softly. “He’s known since you were teenagers.”
“And you never told me?”
“You hated me enough. I didn’t want you to hate me even more.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t give you what the Sunquists had, and I knew he wouldn’t acknowledge you publicly. Your mother wasn’t around to confirm it, either. You resented us enough—you would have hated us even more if I told you.”
He stared down at his father, at the wide nose, the bushy eyebrows. He’d always looked like his mother, he assumed. He remembered her—pretty but sad. But then he thought of Allan. Of his narrow, blade-like eyes. Just like Colt’s. And his father had been a smiley lawyer who had moved to Houston years ago. Died early, too. He remembered the picture of the man in the newspaper, of him smiling and laughing with a senator. He’d had a dimple in his cheek. The same one Colt did.
Nausea flooded through him.
He recalled Allan’s words. “You want her because she’s with me. Because you want what I have. This is some sick revenge game, right?”
Oh, hell.
“I’m sorry, son,” Henry said. “I wish you were mine. I’ve always been proud of you.”
And all his life, he’d resented a man who had no money, but had still married a woman pregnant with another man’s child and raised him as if he were his own. Even after his mother had left Texas, leaving Henry with four small boys to look after.
Emotion burned in the back of his throat and he clasped his father’s hand harder. “Beth Ann doesn’t know. I don’t want to tell her until the time is right.”
His father looked at him sadly. “I don’t know how she’ll take it.”