Page 8 of Cowboy’s Last Stand (His to Protect #1)

N atalie tried not to watch Jason work on her car.

Marcus distracted her with his constant questions and nonstop energy.

He wanted to know all about Jason. She rarely entertained male visitors, so her son wasn’t used to seeing a man around their house.

Marcus had been three when Mike was deployed, and four at the time of his death.

He hardly remembered his father. That was a good thing and a bad thing.

Good, because he wasn’t mourning. Bad, because he didn’t mourn with her.

“Who did he fight?” Marcus asked.

“He told you he fought somebody?”

“Somebody mean, he said.”

Natalie put her arm around his shoulders and kissed his curly-haired head.

He allowed the affectionate gesture for a moment.

Then he broke free and started punching the air in the living room, Rocky Balboa style.

She wanted to tell him that fighting wasn’t cool, but she doubted she could convince him.

This was the kind of conversation a father should handle.

Sometimes, she was angry with Mike for not being here.

“I helped fix the screen door,” Marcus said.

“I saw that. Good job.”

“And I drove the car.”

“You what?”

“I drove the car while he pushed.”

Natalie watched as Marcus did a series of kickboxing moves too close to the TV. She didn’t approve of Jason allowing her son to help him move the car, but she supposed he’d been in control the whole time.

“Be careful,” she said to Marcus, shaking her head.

Then she opened up the fast-food bag on the kitchen table.

The breakfast sandwich was cold, so she stuck it in the microwave for a minute.

She ate her breakfast while Marcus set up a row of stuffed bears on the couch. He karate-chopped them one by one.

Natalie’s attention drifted back to Jason, leaning over her engine.

His dark head was bent in concentration.

He’d discarded his jacket and the long-sleeved Western shirt.

The gray T-shirt he was wearing stretched across his broad shoulders.

He’d tucked a red shop rag into the back pocket of his jeans.

His physique was lean but strong and well-muscled.

She watched his biceps flex as he cranked a wrench.

Marcus sent one of the stuffed bears flying toward a lamp, but Natalie hardly noticed.

She chewed with relish, enjoying the view.

She wondered if allowing Jason to fix her car was the right decision.

He’d known Mike, and that added a painful layer to his presence.

There would be an emotional cost for continuing to spend time with him.

Even if he was just a nice guy doing a lady a favor, she suspected that he would cause a significant disruption to her life.

Jason lifted his head and caught her looking. She felt a flush creep into her cheeks, but he wouldn’t be able to see it through the dusty front window. He gave her a thumbs-up to indicate that he was ready.

A bear came hurtling into the kitchen and knocked over her empty coffee cup. She grabbed the container before it fell off the table. Standing, she tossed it in the trash.

“Time to pick up,” she said. “We’re going out.”

Marcus wrestled his biggest bear to the ground. “Out where?”

“To the store.” When he didn’t stop playing, she said, “Jason’s coming with us.”

He jumped to his feet, collected his bears from their various landing places, and dropped them in the toy bin.

“Go get dressed and brush your teeth.”

Making airplane arms, he zoomed away. He didn’t always listen, and he made plenty of mischief, but he was a good boy. Natalie didn’t have the heart or the energy to be a stern disciplinarian. She worked two jobs, and she was so tired. Some days, the best she could do was keep an eye on him.

She retreated to her bedroom to change clothes.

Last night’s jeans had a stain on one knee from the tussle.

She tugged them on anyway, along with low-top sneakers and a loose sweatshirt.

Her hair was a tangle of curls. She tamed it with a comb and applied minimal makeup. For a Sunday look, it would do.

After tidying up around the house a bit, she checked on Jason.

He’d asked if she had any more tools earlier, so she’d opened the door to her garage and invited him to help himself.

She didn’t think he’d find anything in there besides cobwebs and buckets of rusty nails.

She’d been wrong. He had a set of wrenches that gleamed like new.

His T-shirt was streaked with engine grease in several spots.

There was a tattoo on his right triceps that appeared to be two feathers.

She couldn’t read the inscription underneath.

“How’s it going?” she asked.

“Fine. The alternator belt is broken.” He showed her a worn-out strip of black rubber that he’d tossed on the grass.

“Is that the cheaper thing?”

“It is.”

She was cheered by this news. “Are you ready to go?”

“Ready when you are.”

He wiped his hands on the rag again. His skin was a deep golden brown. Veins stood out on the backs of his hands, and his forearms were roped with muscle. When she realized she was staring, heat rose to her cheeks again.

“Do me a favor,” she said.

“Anything.”

She cleared her throat and tried to clear her mind of sensual images. “Don’t mention Mike in front of Marcus. He’ll never let it go.”

“No problem.”

She returned to the house and grabbed her bag, calling for Marcus to join them.

They walked down the sun-dappled, tree-lined path together.

Fall leaves littered the grass with brilliant reds and yellows.

This was a blue-collar, no-frills neighborhood, but it was still pretty in the fall.

She smiled as Marcus jumped into a pile of leaves.

Then she noticed the dark spots on the sidewalk, and a chill came over her.

She didn’t know who the blood belonged to, Billy or Jason.

The broken brick was still lying on the grass.

Maybe she should have reported the incident. What if Jason had been seriously injured? Marcus chattered about gargoyles and other mystical creatures, oblivious to her silence. He picked up a stick to ward off an imaginary attack.

“Can I play in the park?” he asked.

“Not today,” she said.

“Why not?”

“We’re busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Buying parts for my car.”

Marcus shifted his focus to Jason. As they walked, her son filled every second with a combination of questions and commentary. Jason didn’t seem bothered by the barrage. He responded with short answers that were either vague or humorous.

“How do you know my mom?”

“We met at the bar.”

“Do you like Star Wars?”

“It’s OK.”

“Where are you from?”

“Montana.”

“Is that in Mexico?”

“No.”

“Not everyone’s from Mexico,” Natalie said.

“My dad was,” Marcus explained. “But not my mom.”

Jason glanced at Natalie with interest. “My mom was from Canada.”

“Is that in Mexico?” Marcus asked.

“No,” Jason said, smiling. “But it’s a different country, like Mexico.”

Marcus lost interest in Jason’s heritage and started swinging his stick at overhead branches.

Natalie had tried to teach him to respect other cultures and to take pride in his own.

Last Chance was a diverse town full of military families.

Most people were kind and treated her with the dignity afforded to war widows.

Marcus tossed his stick aside with both eyes intact.

Natalie relaxed a little, enjoying the mild day.

The mix of sun and clouds hinted at more rain to come.

When they arrived at the auto parts store, Natalie held Marcus’s hand to keep him close to her.

Jason took the old belt to the counter and inquired about a new one.

Then he filled up a bin with hoses and gaskets.

Natalie brandished her credit card without complaint.

Jason didn’t offer to pay, but he looked conflicted about it. She was glad he stayed quiet because she didn’t want to argue in the Auto Stop.

“Can we get ice cream?” Marcus asked as they left the store.

“Not this time.”

“Come on, Mom!”

“You can have ice cream at home.”

“I want bubble gum flavor.”

“Sorry, bud. We’re not doing it.”

Natalie didn’t agree to ice cream from the Sweet Treat often. For the price of a single cone, she could buy a whole pint at the grocery store. Marcus found the stick he’d discarded earlier and used it to wreak havoc on nearby branches. They walked a few steps behind, giving him space to swing.

“We could stop at the park and let him loose,” Jason suggested.

She chuckled at his wording, which made her son sound like a wild animal. Marcus loved this idea. As soon as they were close to the park entrance, he raced past the gargoyles and went straight to the playground. She sat down on a bench that overlooked the park. Jason took the seat beside her.

“He’s got a lot of energy,” Jason said.

“You’re telling me.”

“How do you manage?”

“I don’t know. It’s exhausting.”

“Do you have help?”

“I have a babysitter.”

“What about your folks?”

“I was raised by my grandparents,” she said. “My grandma is still alive. She lives in a nursing home on the other side of town.”

“What happened to your parents?”

She squinted into the distance. “My mom was eighteen when she had me. She was Miss Texas, if you can believe that.”

He gave her an appreciative glance. “I can.”

“The same year I was born, she was offered a modeling contract. It was too big of an opportunity to pass up.” Her lips twisted into a weak smile.

“She got a lot of international work, jet-setting from one location to another. She didn’t come home often.

She ended up marrying a photographer and moving to New York. ”

“Are you still in contact with her?”

“Yes. She sends gifts on Marcus’s birthday.”

“What about your father? Was he around?”