Rex stood on the front porch, looking out over the dry and hot Texas Hill Country. It never ceased to amaze him how much life this semi-arid region could support. Its thin layer of topsoil meant that it had evolved plant life all its own to survive the mostly dry and sometimes flooding terrain.
He smiled as he looked across the yard at the Texas live oak that he had once climbed as a boy. How old was the damned thing? He knew that Grandfather before him had climbed it. And after today, he was beginning to hope that his little girl would someday soon climb it too.
His little girl? How could he think of her like that after such a short time? Only a few weeks seemed too quickly. The truth was that it had happened the moment he laid eyes upon her. Oh, he had listened to his friends talk about the moment they had first seen their children. The instant bond, the unconditional love.
But that was a biological thing, after months of pregnancy and anticipation. He had needed neither, just the sight of her soft brown skin, those big brown eyes, and that hair flying as wildly about her head as he hoped she would one day fly about the ranch.
He shook his head as he thought about the hours of arguing that he, Angel, and Grandfather had with Jaycee. The woman was stubborn. He chuckled, that word did not come close to covering it. No doubt, if she had been a Skinwalker, her skin would have been a mule.
"What is so funny, my son?" That voice of wisdom spoke from over his shoulder.
"Nʉ Sʉmʉ," was all he needed to say to his grandfather. He knew the man would understand instantly.
The old man echoed his chuckle, "I will not say that I envy you, my grandson. That one is..."
Rex laughed as he turned and accepted the steaming hot cup of coffee that his grandfather held in his weathered and gnarled fingers. He flashed back to that Sunday morning before he met her. It seemed a lifetime ago. His grandfather had been right, of course. He need not have been worried, Fate and the Great Ones had it all under control. He hoped they did know as well.
"What am I going to do, Grandfather?" he repeated the question.
"What you are meant to do - love and protect them," his grandfather's wise advice seemed so easy. It was anything but. If Jaycee had insisted once, she had done so dozens of times since that afternoon. Angel could not accept such a precious gift from them. He and Grandfather had both tried to explain, but how could they? Tell this woman of logic that the skin belonged to the child, or maybe the child belonged to it.
He was reminded of another mother, his own. She never did come to understand. To this day, his mother dismissed all her father's ways. She clung to the 'one truth' of her mother's family. Even more, she clung to the science and experiments she conducted in her labs every day. She could never accept that it was the spirit world which she denied and not the medicine that she forced on him for years that had finally brought him the peace he sought.
He chuckled again, not that he had much peace since she came into his life. If he could never convince his mother, what made him think he could convince his mate? Even now, she resisted. Refused to see that they belonged together. Resented the way that he knew her thoughts. Denied the very existence of the bond that provided his only hope for true peace from the beast within. The beast that threatened to consume him as it had that other man. The Chupacabra.
There was no other choice. He had to succeed this time. They had to, he thought, looking at his grandfather. It was not just his life that rode on this outcome. But his child's as well.
He remembered that first day, the violence that had threatened to pull her tiny body limb from limb. He had to make Jaycee see what she refused to admit. Her daughter had had only one of the seizures since they came here, one of the small ones the first day. He hoped that would count for something when the time came.
He feared it was coming soon. Too soon. He needed more time; he wanted to ease her into things, help her to come to accept the truth that she could not see.
His Grandfather put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed softly, "Like I told the child, there is time. Not much time granted. Perhaps even shorter for you, my son. But as with Angel, it will be enough."
His shoulders sloped as the reality of the battle ahead loomed larger than even the comfort of his grandfather's words. He hoped there was enough time. He hoped he could reach this woman as he never had his mother.
He hoped he was man enough to be what she needed. To protect and love the woman and child that he had been given. He hoped Grandfather was right one more time.
***
Jaycee watched them through the screen door. It was hard to believe that the two men were related at all. The older one with skin almost darker than her daughter's and long straight hair that even through the white, you could catch glimpses of the midnight black it must have once been.
She smiled as she thought about the picture that she had seen of the man. He had been an actor in Hollywood. The wedding photo of the darkly handsome young brave with the platinum blond starlet had been another shocker. The other face was instantly recognizable. She would have never guessed.
That photo and the one of the little girl with light caramel skin and straight light brown hair began to explain how Rex had come to be so fair. She had found no photographs of the woman and her son, none of Rex's father. But undoubtedly, he was as fair as Rex's grandmother had been.
Rex might not look like his Grandfather with his sandy blond short hair that curled just a bit at the tip if you looked closely there was grey blended in. Of course, his Native American heritage could account for some of the healthy copper tan.
Her breathe caught in her chest as she thought about seeing him without a shirt that first day as they had unloaded the horses in the late Spring heat of the Texas Hill Country. The tan extended into the waistband of his jeans that clung like a second skin to firm thighs and a tight ass. But it was the smooth muscled expanse of his chest that had cradled her head the night before that had tormented her dreams every night since. She sucked in a deep breath just at the thought of it.
"Damn it, woman," came the pained exclamation as the center of her thoughts turned to face her. She had forgotten that as weird as it was, he seemed able to read her mind. Or she would like to forget it anyway. Better yet, she would rather he did not.
"I'm sorry to disturb you," she apologized as she dropped her eyes to the wooden floor. She hoped they could not see the way her cheeks flamed red in the pale moonlight. "It is just that Angel wants Grandfather to read her a bedtime story."
Not me, she thought as she choked back tears. She knew that she should be grateful. Happy that her daughter, and she, had more good people like Hector and Lupe in their lives.
It seemed that there were so few of them in this world as she thought about all the people she had once thought her friends. Back when she was married to Sean, back before Angel got sick. It seemed another lifetime ago.
So, why was she jealous? Why did she resent them so much? She had been grateful for the help that Hector and Lupe offered. Even though she had always insisted that they let her pay them something for their trouble, she knew that they did not do it for the money but out of the goodness of their hearts, just like Rex and his Grandfather. So why the difference?
Because she had never really had to share her daughter with them, hell, she had never had to share her with anyone, not even her ex-husband, Angel's father. And that frightened her. What would she do if Angel came to need them more than her? She had given up her life, most of it anyway, to care for her daughter. What would she have then? What would she do?
Maybe it went deeper even than that. Angel was the only thing that was ever truly hers. The only person that she knew would love her as unconditionally as she loved her child. She choked back a silent sob as they opened the door.
The older man came through first. "Please join us. I would like you to hear this story too, my child."
Jaycee frowned as the man walked past her down the hall to the room that she shared with her daughter while they were here. She was not certain she was ready for anymore of the man's lessons today.
She had finally acceded to her child's demands to keep the old dress when she recognized that Angel was spiraling out of control, fast approaching one of her meltdowns.
She had not had one since they came here. Jaycee frowned; she had not had a seizure either. Not even in her sleep. After five years of vigilance, it was strange lying in bed next to a peacefully still child. She frowned as she tried to think of even one time since that first seizure when she was a baby that she had gone this long without a single one. She could not.
There had to be some explanation. Maybe as a couple of the doctors had suggested, Angel was outgrowing them? But most of the experts they had consulted had not been so hopeful. Not as severe and frequent as her seizures were, not as young as they started. What then?
She sighed and shook her head. She would have the whole night to think about it. It was better than more wet dreams about his bare chest and tight ass. Or worse yet about the hard ridge that she had felt in his jeans during their brief stolen moments on her ranch. Before all this.
She felt the hand on the small of her back like a red-hot poker. Her nipples hardened painfully. She felt the moisture as it ran into her panties. Damn, why did this man have this effect on her body every time?