“All of it.”
“Did you hate Piper?”
She comes over and sits at the table. “Hate? No. I think I was indifferent. I was thirteen when I found out her story. My dad never made it a secret that I was adopted, but he never told me I was the product of rape until I became a teenager. The older I got, the more curious I became, and when I turned eighteen, I knew I wanted to meet her.”
“It’s been difficult for you.”
She shrugs. “I guess. I mean, we all have our issues. Sometimes I just don’t know how to be around her. Around the whole Mitchell family. I feel like an imposter half the time, and the other half, it seems like they feel sorry for me.”
“Maybe they just don’t know how to be around you either. You seem to be fine with Maddox and Aaron.”
“I am. They’re pretty far removed. It’s more Piper and her sisters and their parents.”
My phone rings. I look at it and then Amber. “Oh, shit. It’s Dr. Johansen. Maybe the results are back.”
“She said they’d come right to you.” She nods at it. “Answer it, dummy.”
“Hey, doc.”
“Mr. Thompson. I hate to be the bearer of bad news.”
My stomach drops. “Oh my god, is she mine?”
“I told you last week I wouldn’t be the one to find out. But they did contact me as the physician who collected the samples. I’m afraid we’ll have to submit new ones. They didn’t say why, but I suspect faulty handling or some break in the chain of custody of the samples.”
Although I’m relieved, I slap my palm on the table. “This will set us back an entire week.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Will it help if I come to you? I’m one of those old-fashioned doctors who still makes house calls from time to time, and I’m going to be out that way this afternoon around two.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Okay, see you then.”
I put the phone down.
“What is it?” Amber asks impatiently.
“They have to collect more samples. Something about the original ones not being good. The doctor is coming at two.” I look something up on my phone. “Do you think Sophie can stay late today?”
“Maybe, why?”
“Because I need to get on a bronc and work out some of this frustration.” I pull her toward me. “And then I need you to ride me like your life depends on it.”
“Sounds like the perfect Friday night. I’ll ask her to stay. You might have to make it worth her while, though. It’ll put her over her hours.”
Sophie walks into the room carrying Josie.
“Can you stay late today?” I ask.
“Probably. How late?”
“It’s been a hell of day. If I give you five hundred cash to spend the night in the guest room, would you do it?”
“Technically, I’m not supposed to. The agency frowns on us going over our hours.”
“The agency won’t have to know.”
She smiles. “If you don’t tell them, I won’t tell them.”
“Deal.”
“Mind if I run home and get my overnight bag?”
“Not if you don’t mind if Amber and I cut out of here at three and don’t come back until tomorrow morning.”
I tap around on my phone and make a reservation at a Fort Worth hotel. Amber leans close. “This night is sounding better and better.”
Six hours later, I’m holding my side in pain. Damn horse threw me right into the fence. Amber meets me outside the gate. “That got a little too real,” she says.
“Just wait until later. I’ll have one hell of a bruise.” I wink. “You can nurse me back to health.”
“Let me see it.” I lift my shirt, and she covers her mouth. “Quinn, we should take you to the hospital. This looks bad.”
“Nah. Cracked rib, probably. Nothing I haven’t had before.”
“A broken rib? You definitely need medical attention.”
“I can wrap it myself. There isn’t anything they can do, Amber. It’s not like they put you in a cast. If it snapped in two, we’d know it because it would have punched a hole in my lung or something.”
“They can do that?”
“I’ve seen it happen. Some dude died down in Austin last year when his rib punctured his diaphragm.” Concern crosses her face. “I’m fine. It’ll heal on its own. Although I’ll be benched from doing this for a while.”
“Good.”
“I thought you liked it.”
“I did. Maybe not so much anymore.”
“Mind telling me why?”
“I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”
“I thought you liked me being all dangerous.”
“How long will it take to heal?”
“Few weeks. A month, maybe. Depends on how bad it is.”
“How bad is it?”
“Ask me in a few days.”
“Well, if it isn’t my dutiful son,” I hear from behind us.
I turn to see my mom and Jon. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Looks like you need a real man to teach you how to rodeo,” Jon says.
“I know how to fucking rodeo. He took a bad turn, is all. It happens all the time.”
“Or maybe you were distracted,” Mom says, eyeing Amber up and down. “Rumor has it you have a family now.”
“You heard wrong.”
“Nancy Gunderson saw you and a woman, who fits this one’s description, at her daughter’s pediatrician’s office last week.” She turns to Amber. “Is the baby my son’s, or are you trying to extort money from him?”
“Shut the hell up, Karen,” I say. “What I do is none of your business.”
“So it’s not yours. I figured as much. People have been trying to get what we have since your great-grandfather made us one of the wealthiest families in Texas.”
“She’s nothing like you. She would never get pregnant just to hold on to a man and then try to pass the kid off as his. Talk about extortion—you’re the queen of extortion. Now get the hell out of our way.”
“You talk to your mother like that?” Jon says.
“Mind keeping your voice down? I don’t want anyone here to know we’re related.”
“Everyone knows you’re a Thompson. And make no mistake, you’ll always be a Thompson.”
“In name only. Now, get out of the way.”
“We ain’t done here,” Jon says.
“Yes. We are. And if you continue to harass me in public, I’ll get a restraining order.”
“Restraining orders are for pussies.”
“I don’t care what you call me, Jon. We’re leaving.” I pull Amber close and walk away. “Don’t stop, even if he says something else. He loves to get under people’s skin.”
“She isn’t nearly as pretty as the ones you usually sleep with,” Mom says loudly.
Amber stiffens.
“Ignore her,” I say. “Keep walking.”
“She looks old,” Jon says. “Maybe she needs someone more experienced, like me. What do you say, sugar? Want a real man?”