Second Chance at Sunflower Ranch (The Ryan Family #1)(8)

Jesse felt his heart fall down into his cowboy boots. His own parents hadn’t wanted him, and that didn’t bother him, but the thought of Sonny not wanting him was another matter. Jesse felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he blinked them back.

Sonny went on, “Your mother talked me into trying out foster care, just to see how it would go.”

“Dad, you don’t have to tell me all this.” Jesse got out of the truck and opened a gate, jogged back to the truck and drove through it, then hopped out again to close the gate.

“Sorry that I couldn’t do that for you,” Sonny said when Jesse was behind the steering wheel again.

Jesse patted him on the shoulder. “No problem.”

“Now, where were we?” Sonny asked, then went on before Jesse could answer. “Oh, yeah. Back to when the foster lady brought you to our house. You were a big baby at nine pounds, but you scared the bejesus out of me. I was terrified that I’d drop you or do something wrong. There I was the same age as you are right now with a baby in my arms. I’d always managed to steer clear of even my buddies’ newborn babies, but Pearl was so in love with you from the first moment she took you from that social worker’s arms, that she wanted me to feel the same thing.”

Jesse had held his friends’ babies, and he’d felt the exact same way. Flying into war zones on a rescue mission, tornadoes, and red-haired women didn’t scare him as much as a tiny baby did.

“Merrylee, the social worker, who was a childhood friend of your mother’s, said she could pull some strings and we could adopt you right away,” Sonny said. “I was the one who wanted to wait. Your mother wanted a family, not an only child, and I wanted to see how we’d do with one before I consented to having more babies in the house. When you were two years old, Merrylee called and said she had a three-year-old and his year-old brother who were available to foster like we did you, and in six months we could probably adopt them. I was in a turmoil. I always figured that if we did take in another child or two, you’d be the oldest and inherit the farm when I was gone, and by then you were mine…my son…my child. I didn’t think I could love any others the way I did you.”

Jesse’s tears that time were of joy, not disappointment, but he still kept them at bay. “That would have been a big decision. Three boys who were stairsteps. A lot of work would be involved in raising us boys, but why are you telling me this now?” Jesse stopped beside a fence that was almost on the ground.

Sonny whipped his cell phone from his shirt pocket. “Henry, we’re about a quarter of a mile west of that old fallen oak tree. Fence needs fixin’ today if you can see your way to get it done. We’ll need to move cattle into this pasture tomorrow, and there’s no way this fence will hold them.”

“Tell him I’ll take care of it this afternoon. He shouldn’t have to work on Saturday afternoon,” Jesse said.

He listened for a few seconds and then said, “Thanks a lot. Jesse made it home a few days early. He’ll take care of the fence. Why don’t you come on over for supper tonight?” He listened for another minute, and then put the phone back in his pocket. “He says to tell you welcome home, and he’s looking forward to seeing you tonight.”

“It’ll be good to get a visit with him, too. Now, tell me, Dad, where is this Merrylee lady now?” Jesse asked.

“She married and moved to California right after we got Lucas and Cody. Died last year with pancreatic cancer. She and your mother kept in touch, but they hadn’t seen each other in years.” Sonny sighed. “I wanted Pearl to fly out for the funeral, but she wouldn’t leave me, said she wanted to remember Merrylee like she was when she brought you boys to her. I’m telling you this history because you need to hear it and understand that…” He paused.

“Understand what?” Jesse asked.

“That it doesn’t matter whether a child comes to you as a baby or already up and running around, that kid becomes yours as much as if it was flesh and blood. I worried about bringing Lucas and Cody into our lives because I was afraid that I couldn’t love them as much as I did you,” Sonny said. “I’m a rough and tough old cowboy, son. I don’t cry very often, and I’m not as romantic as I should be with your mama and saying all this ain’t easy for me. I love all three of you boys, and you need to know that. I haven’t even given you a choice about steppin’ up and runnin’ this place when Henry retires, so I’m givin’ it to you now. I took over this place from my dad, and he took it over from my grandpa. It’s Ryan land, and it needs a Ryan to run it. Each of you boys have taken a different path up to now, and I don’t want you to feel—”

Jesse laid a hand on Sonny’s shoulder again and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m here, Dad, because I want to be, and I’m not going anywhere. You raised me to be a rancher. I’ve given enough of my time back to helping others. I’m glad to be home, and I’m glad to take over the reins for Henry.”

“And someday for me?” Sonny glanced down at the cane.

“Like you said, a Ryan needs to run this land, and I’m a Ryan, maybe not the oldest son, but I can do the job—but not until after we celebrate your hundredth birthday,” Jesse teased. “And thanks, Dad, for telling me all that. It’s not easy to open up like you just did.”