Cowboy judgment, p.1
Cowboy Judgment, page 1
Cowboy Judgment
Barb Han
TorJake Publishing
Copyright © 2020 by Barb Han
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing: Ali Williams
Cover Design: Jacob’s Cover Designs
To my family for unwavering love and support. I can’t imagine doing life with anyone else. I love you guys with all my heart.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Also by Barb Han
About the Author
1
Kurt Johnson stared at the newspaper sprawled across his kitchen table. He took another lap around the small, craftsman-style house as stress pulled his shoulder muscles taut. He flexed and released his fingers a few times in an attempt to work off the tension building. Rolling his head from side-to-side didn’t make a dent. The news that his birth father was one of the wealthiest cattle ranchers in Texas had hit like a rogue wave in a calm sea, obliterating everything in its path. As it turned out, being a McGannon was news.
Kurt McGannon? He tried the name on for size. Nope. Couldn’t do it. Not even for a million bucks. Kurt’s last name had been Johnson for the past thirty-five years and he wasn’t about to change it now. The other one didn’t sound right, plus there was the fact that he didn’t want to be a McGannon.
Taking the call from a stranger claiming to be Kurt’s uncle was the first mistake. Since the article came out, his work cell hadn’t stopped ringing. Reporters. People claiming to be relatives. After being an orphan for the past couple of years, Kurt had been informed that he had six siblings and five cousins. Don’t even get him started on the uncle who’d pulled him into this mess in the first place. The man had summoned Kurt to the hospital to drop the bomb on Kurt’s newfound siblings that their father had cheated on their mother.
So, that pretty much made him the most popular guy in the place and begged the question…what had he gotten himself into?
The condition of Kurt’s birth father seemed dire. Clive McGannon was in a coma after an accident left him with a head injury. Kurt figured that it was just his luck to find out that he had a father under these weird circumstances.
The whole part about the man being one of the richest in Texas was going to take a while to process. Kurt didn’t want or need another person’s money. He’d earned plenty of his own. Granted, he wasn’t McGannon family rich, but his storage business provided enough to bring up his daughter with food on the table and a solid roof over her head. He had enough for extras, like vacations and extracurriculars.
His problem wasn’t financial. Ever since that article appeared in the Houston Daily News, both print and online versions no less, Kurt’s life was blowing up. Work phone. Inbox. It didn’t stop there. Calls from banks, lawyers, and a persistent millionaire matchmaker service poured in. All claiming to have his best interest at heart. Right. If he believed that someone probably had a bridge to sell him, too.
Kurt had never been more grateful for his personal cell phone. Only a handful of people had been given the number. He kept his private cell with him at all times in case his babysitter needed to reach him.
He glanced toward the kitchen as he made another lap around the living room. More frustration seethed and that meant he needed to go hard on a workout. He passed the kitchen table on his way to the garage where he’d set up a home gym in the second parking space.
Popping an earbud in his left ear, he scrolled through his tunes before settling on AC/DC’s Thunderstruck.
His workout started slow, and he couldn’t seem to get it going. No number of push-ups could make him stop thinking about his surprise family or the chaos that headline was causing in his life. To be honest, it wasn’t just the news distracting him. Levi McGannon, the oldest of the siblings, had reached out yesterday to set up a family meeting so they could get to know each other better. Kurt had yet to return that call.
Since push-ups to classic rock weren’t doing the trick, he jumped to standing and grabbed a jump rope. It didn’t take four rotations for the rope to catch on his feet. He untangled it and started again. This time, he didn’t make it two jumps without the darn thing snagging on his ankles.
Time to put away the rope. His concentration was shot as he ran through the rest his workout routine. Twenty minutes in and a lot of starts and stops, he decided to hang it up. His dog, Cuzya, would be up by now, ready for her turn to exercise. She usually slept upstairs in his daughter’s room. His babysitter, Ms. Calaway, stayed in the adjoining room during the week.
Paisley was a good sleeper and it was way too early for her to wake up, but Kurt would never get a decent sweat going if she surprised him before he got out the door. He grabbed Cuzya’s leash and headed up the stairwell to his daughter’s bedroom to get his dog.
He jingled the leash as he neared the top. Cuzya came trotting out.
“Good, girl,” he whispered, taking a knee and scratching her behind the ears. No way would he risk waking his angel when he was this close to getting in a much-needed run.
Leashing his dog, he slipped out of the house and onto the front porch. He locked the door behind them before shooting off a quick text to let Ms. Calaway know what he was up to. Sitting on the porch, he laced up his running shoes.
It was five o’clock in the morning, still dark. He always got up early to work out before starting the day. Now, he had questions about where his habits came from.
Did he wake up early every day because he had rancher’s blood? Was he successful because of his father’s shared DNA? Had his father somehow helped him along?
It was crazy how uncertain he’d become after a quick trip to a hospital in Katy Gulch Texas, an even quicker swab, and a DNA test.
Kurt tried to convince himself he didn’t care who his father was. The man was nothing more than a sperm donor. He hadn’t been around for Kurt or his mother during his childhood. There’d been no child support payments. Kurt’s mother had struggled to make ends meet at times. High school graduation? Party of two, three if he counted Stacy. He and his high school sweetheart married the summer after graduation and life together had been good. They’d decided to hold off on having a family while they got their acts together and could handle the responsibility. He’d launched a successful business while she’d worked her way through community college and became a graphic designer. She’d designed the company website and had learned how to handle much of the finances while he’d tracked down business. The two of them had made a great team.
Kurt’s mom had passed away before Stacy got pregnant and then he lost his wife, too. Paisley was the only family he had.
And that brought him to the present. Kurt wouldn’t have even gone to the trouble to respond to the call from a random guy who called himself Kurt’s uncle a year ago when Stacy was alive. But she’d had no contact with her parents after their divorce. He was an orphan. If anything happened to him, their daughter, Paisley, would be an orphan.
His moment of weakness in returning the call from a stranger had resulted in finding out he was part of a large family—one he wasn’t all that sure he wanted, and one that couldn’t possibly want him around.
Granted, they’d extended a welcome once the results came in at the hospital and, much to Kurt’s shock, they seemed genuine. Under different circumstances, they seemed like the kind of people Kurt would actually like.
But their offer of family had to be a Trojan horse. And, thanks to his high school Lit teacher, he knew exactly how that had turned out. So, yeah, he wasn’t going down that road only to be wiped out no matter how authentic they seemed on the surface.
As much as he wanted Paisley to have a family that extended beyond him, he couldn’t risk her getting attached only to be hurt. She’d lost enough for one lifetime. And she’d only been on the earth a little more than a year.
That little girl was his world and vice versa. He figured she had a right to know if she had a bigger family out there. She would want to know. Wouldn’t she?
So much of parenting was blind guesswork. It was a lot like being told to change the oil in his motorcycle while blindfolded and without any tools.
Kurt smacked his palms against his cement porch before pushing up to standing. Cuzya’s tail was working double time in anticipation of the run. That’s all he wanted to focus on. Not the fact that he might’ve gotten an early riser gene from his father because his mother couldn’t get out of bed before nine to save her life.
So, there he was…wondering if he’d gotten traits from a father he’d never met.
By this hour, he usually dripped from sweat after a vigorous forty-five-minute workout. Out of courtesy, if he saw anyone coming toward him at the park, he’d be sure to pivot around them so they wouldn’t get caught in his airstream. No one deserved that. Not even the woman who brought her immaculately groomed white standard poodle to the park and gave anyone s
The real question coming next was whether he planned to move forward with his family. This was exactly the kind of thing he would’ve asked Stacy about and she would’ve had the right answer. His wife always knew the right path, whereas Kurt felt like he was alone in a canoe paddling left.
Losing his wife had felt like cement poured around his heart. He’d been devastated and unsure how to move on or breathe right up until the nurse asked him if he wanted to meet his daughter.
Having his daughter placed in his arms had been a game-changer. He went from a deep sense of loss to an even deeper sense of purpose.
It was impossible not to worry he would be letting Paisley and Stacy down by closing her off to the possibility of being part of a large family. In the few short hours he’d been around the McGannons, it was easy to see they were a tightknit bunch. But would they accept an outsider like his daughter?
Kurt couldn’t care less if they approved of him. Hurt his child and there was no end to which he wouldn’t go to bring pain to their doorstep. So, he was caught between a rock and a hard place on this one. And he wished like hell he could just tap into a magic line and ask his wife.
There were two labels that Kurt hated, widower and orphan. He bore both.
He grabbed Cuzya’s leash, the Rhodesian ridgeback’s ears perked up. She might be eight years old, but she acted like two.
“Come on, girl,” he urged.
Her tail wagged double time. Morning runs were her favorite and he could swear she was smiling as she looked up at him.
Kurt took off toward the park, a familiar route for Cuzya. The seventy-five-pound animal trotted easily beside him. This pace was nothing for her, but it was good to warm up her muscles before hitting their stride.
AC/DC roared through Kurt’s earbud into his left ear. He’d always been a vintage rock anthem guy. Back in Black was his all-time favorite song. He liked the guitar riffs, and the beat made him want to get up and move. Then there was Angus Young, shredding on the guitar.
Not even his go-to song could shake his sour mood.
Three laps around the park had Cuzya warmed up and ready to go. Kurt couldn’t find his stride no matter how hard he tried. Running might have his heart rate up but wasn’t exactly helping with his mindset. At least he was sweating now.
His phone went off, causing his pulse to skyrocket. No one ever contacted him this time of the morning. His first thought was that a reporter had somehow gotten hold of the number. His second, an attorney. Several seemed very interested in ‘helping’ him claim his part of the McGannon fortune.
Kurt stopped running as he pulled his cell out of the pouch strapped to his arm. He hit the mute button on his music and checked the screen.
His chest squeezed and it was hard to breathe when he read the name, Ms. Calaway. Why would his sitter call at this time if not for an emergency?
“Is something wrong with Paisley?” He didn’t bother with a greeting as he heard his daughter wailing in the background.
This was bad. So bad. An invisible knot tightened in his chest, making it hard to breathe.
“There was a man…” His sitter spoke in between gasps. He could scarcely hear her over his daughter’s cries. “He tried…”
“To what? Take her?” was all he could ask as he turned tail and backtracked toward home. His worst fear played out in his mind as he waited for a response from his sitter and his heart battered his rib cage.
“No. I-didn’t-he-couldn’t—”
“She’s safe?”
“Yes,” she managed to say through gulps of air.
“You’re okay?”
“Ambulance.” The one word sent a ripple of fear through his body. Kurt hated hospitals more than almost anything.
“Are you home?” he asked.
“I—”
The voice of his neighbor, Mr. Rodriguez, came on the line. “I forgot to take my garbage to the curb last night, so I hurried to get it out before the truck came this morning. That’s when I heard a scream. I looked over at your house and saw a shadow move across your front window. I got a bad feeling when I didn’t hear Cuzya bark, so I ran inside my house to get my shotgun from the closet.”
His quick thinking might have just saved Paisley’s life.
“By the time I got to your house,” he continued, “a man had knocked Bea over and had Paisley in his arms.”
“And now?” Kurt realized Paisley was okay. Her cries could be heard loud and clear and they made him turn up the gas as he ran, ignoring burning thighs, to get to his baby girl.
“I got here just in time,” Mr. Rodriguez said on a sigh. “Bea took a hard hit and I already called for the cops and an ambulance. But he got away.”
“Can you stay with them?” Kurt asked, scanning the street for any other runners.
“Yes. Of course,” Mr. Rodriguez said.
“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” Kurt said through short bursts of air. He ended the call as he poured on the gas.
Rounding the corner two blocks from his house, sirens pierced the air. A few seconds later, a squad car ripped past him. An ambulance soon followed. By the time he reached home, a swarm had descended on his three-bedroom craftsman.
The back of an ambulance and two squad cars were aimed at his front door. Since the situation was volatile, and he didn’t want to end up shot, he put his hands high in the air where they could easily be seen as he beat feet toward his front yard.
“This is my house,” he shouted to a cop on the front porch.
The officer turned around, keeping his hand on the butt of the gun in its holster. “Sir, you need to stop right there.”
“I live here. That’s my daughter in there.” Kurt’s plea was met with a sympathetic look, but the officer didn’t give any indication that he was going to budge. “I can prove it.”
It was then that he realized he didn’t have his driver’s license on him or his wallet. All he had was his cell phone.
2
“Stay right there, sir. I’ll call my supervising officer.” The cop identified himself as Officer Tanner Forth before turning his face toward his left shoulder and speaking over the radio.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Kurt stood on the sidewalk. More of that sweat poured from his face and body, soaking his shirt. His pulse was through the roof as he could hear Paisley from the street. He shifted his weight and flexed and released his fingers a few times, trying to work out the stress. The only things keeping him from violating the cop’s order was the gun on his side and the fact that Paisley was safe.
Kurt couldn’t fathom what might’ve happened if his neighbor hadn’t decided to take out his trash at the exact moment he did. Standing there, heaving for air, the knot in Kurt’s chest tightened again.
A few seconds later, the front door opened, and Mr. Rodriguez leaned out. Paisley was on his hip but kept her shielded behind the door. He looked at the officer and immediately nodded. “That’s her father.”
“Sir, you may approach. I apologize—”
“No need.” Kurt bolted toward his neighbor. At some point he would figure out how to repay the man for saving his daughter’s and Ms. Calaway’s lives but right now all he could think about was holding his baby girl.
Mr. Rodriguez met Kurt halfway on the porch. The minute Paisley’s gaze zeroed in on him, her tears doubled, and she leaned toward him with outstretched arms. The incident had understandably traumatized her.
In that moment, like so many others, she reminded him so much of her mother with those big blue eyes and blonde curls. He held her tightly against his chest. Her little hands pressed against his neck as she held onto him for dear life.
