He held up one hand to stop her. “Just hear me out.”
“All right.”
“My mom was a single mother,” he said, meeting her gaze head-on. “I know now how hard she struggled to work, pay bills and take care of me. And believe me, she did a hell of a job and made a lot of sacrifices just to keep me from finding out that we didn’t have it as good as everyone else.” He shook his head. “When I look back, I realize now that all those times she said she wasn’t all that hungry were really times that she was leaving the food for me so that I had plenty to eat.”
She watched a shadow of sadness briefly cross his handsome face and knew that what he was about to tell her next was something that had caused him a lot of emotional pain.
“What happened?” she asked softly.
“My mom and I both got the flu when I was ten,” he said, giving her a meaningful look. “There wasn’t enough money for both of us to see a doctor, so she made sure I was taken care of, but she neglected herself. I got better. She didn’t. She died of pneumonia a week or so later.”
“Oh, T.J., I’m so sorry,” she said, realizing why he had been so insistent that she stay at the Dusty Diamond when he learned that she had the flu.
“Me, too,” he said gruffly. He seemed to take a sudden interest in the tops of his expensive alligator-skin boots. Then he raised his head to look directly at her. “The night I found you and Seth stranded by the flooded-out road, I made a vow that I wouldn’t let the same thing happen to your son.”
“I—I had no idea,” she stammered.
“Just like my mom, you didn’t have anyone to take care of you. You didn’t have anyone to see that you got better.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t walk away from that.”
“I don’t know what to say.” She was completely stunned.
“I didn’t want you to know,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t insist on taking care of you so that you would feel sorry about me losing my mom when I was ten years old.” He pointed toward the hall. “I did it for that little boy in there. I didn’t want him going through life without his mother.”
Tears filled her eyes. How could she have ever thought that T.J. wouldn’t love her son as much as his own father would have?
“Is that when you went into the foster system? After your mom passed away?” she asked.
“No, I was sent to live with my great-grandmother,” he said, shaking his head. “But she was elderly and didn’t have the energy to chase a preadolescent boy who had a knack for getting himself into trouble every time he turned around.” He reached up to rub the back of his neck as if he was trying to decide how much to tell her. “I was put into the system when I was fourteen. She passed away a couple of months later.”
“You were in trouble?” she asked, completely shocked.
He nodded. “I fell in with a bad crowd and landed in juvenile detention more than once for vandalism. For whatever reason, my case worker decided that I was a candidate for this new foster home run by an ex-rodeo champion.”
“That’s why it was called the Last Chance Ranch?” she asked.
“Yup, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said, smiling fondly. “Hank Calvert made me face the anger I’d felt at losing my mom. He made me realize that instead of blaming everyone else for it, I should accept that’s just the way things go sometimes. He also believed in me and after a while, I started believing in myself.”
“So all of your brothers were in trouble, too?” she asked, marveling at the men they had all become.
“We were all hell-raisers,” he said, laughing. “But with Hank Calvert’s help, we all straightened up our acts and became honest, upstanding citizens.”
“I would have never guessed,” she admitted.
“He saw to it that we all went to college, too.” T.J. grinned. “You could never tell it by looking at me, but I’m more than just a rodeo cowboy who won a couple of world championship belt buckles. I graduated from Texas State with a master’s degree in business.”
“Hank sounds like a wonderful man,” she said, meaning it. “Sam and Bria’s son is named after him, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” T.J. shoved away from the counter and walked over to her. Kneeling down in front of her, he took her hands in his. “Heather, I know you think I was being high-handed when I paid your taxes, but I only wanted to do something that would help relieve the stress I know you’ve been under for far too long.” He kissed each one of her palms. “I don’t ever want to see callouses on these hands again from where you’ve had to work like three men just to keep this ranch running.”