Renegade Father Read Free

rancher at a stock sale in Bozeman, clear back in November. Each time he talked to him, the rancher had upped the ante, but still Joe had refused, loath to put that hurt in Annie’s green eyes.
    But even as he continued to turn down the increasingly generous offers, he could feel his control around her slipping away faster than a Montana summer.
    Except for one infamous day he preferred not to dwell on, he had kept an iron grip on himself for years. But this constant proximity to her—this playacting at being a family, with them sharing meals and decisions and work—was slowly driving him insane.
    He was starting to feel like a coyote caught in one of the traps some of the ranchers set out, as if he would do anything to get away, even chew off his own leg.
    The day before, he and Annie had driven into town to look at a new spreader for the tractor.
    He had spent the whole damn day trying to keep his eyes on the road and not on her. Every time he caught a whiff of that apple-scented shampoo she used, he nearly drove the pickup into a tree.
    And then he’d been stupid enough to take her to the diner for lunch, and the whispers had started before they’d even picked up a menu. Murderer. Killed his father. Spent time in prison.
    He knew she heard them. Her peach-pie complexion had begun to fade, little by little, until the sprinkle of freckles that dusted the bridge of her nose stood out in stark relief.
    By the time they finally made it home, he realized he would have to leave, for her sake and for his own. He just couldn’t do this anymore.
    He sighed heavily and put his coat and Stetson back on. He had work to do and it wasn’t getting done while he stood here brooding.
    The wind had picked up, he noticed as he pushed the door open and headed outside. It screeched under the eaves of the barn like an angry cat and swirled snow across the path between the house and the cluster of outbuildings and the house. The cold sneaked through his thick coat with mean, pinching fingers.
    By the looks of those clouds, they’d get another foot or so tonight. A bad night to be a new calf.
    The whine of brakes on the road out front sounded above the moan of the wind and he watched the school bus lumber to a stop near the house.
    C.J. hopped down first, bundled up so only his eyes were showing and swinging his red backpack behind him. Leah followed more slowly, her straight dark hair—free of anything as sensible as a hat—twisting around in the wind and her hands shoved into the pockets of her coat.
    No homework again, he noticed. No books, anyway. He frowned. She was never going to be able to get her grades back up to where they were before her father left if she never bothered to bring her books home from school.
    C.J. spotted him first and waved wildly in greeting, then headed toward him. Leah barely acknowledged his existence with a curt nod before walking into the house. Nothing unusual there, but damned if he could figure her out. She used to always have a shy smile and a hug for him, but she’d been colder than that bitch of a wind ever since Charlie took off.
    â€œHey, Joe!” The boy’s voice sounded distorted through his heavy scarf.
    â€œHow was school?” he asked.
    He pulled the muffler down. “Good. We watched a movie about reptiles. It was awesome. Did you know there’s this lizard some place in Asia that can grow to be ten feet long? Ten feet! I think it’s called the Komodo dragon or somethin’ like that. It can eat goats and deer and even people if they get too close.”
    â€œNo, I didn’t know that. Thanks for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind if I ever run into one.”
    The boy snickered. “You won’t unless you’re goin’ over to Asia sometime soon.”
    Nope. Just Wyoming. His fingers clenched inside thick gloves. “It’s cold out here. You’d better go inside and get to your homework.”
    C.J. made a