Home on the Ranch

by Tanya Michaels

  “Outside earlier? When I joked about you wanting me? I was projecting,” he said hoarsely. “I want you, Layla.”

  There was a time she would have walked across the state barefoot to hear those words from him. Her pulse raced, and she couldn’t deny that part of her reaction was answering desire. But the stronger part was fear. She needed to keep her distance. “Jace, I told you, we can’t... Things have changed. I’m not a reckless seventeen-year-old anymore. I’m a mother now.”

  “Are you suggesting women with children can’t have sexual needs? Your logic is flawed, beautiful. Pretty sure sex is how people end up with children in the first pl—”

  An involuntary whimper of distress escaped her, a small, strangled sound that couldn’t possibly encompass all of her guilt and panic.

  “Layla?” He frowned in concern. Then he paled. “Oh, God.”

  The dawning suspicion in his expression made her feel as powerless and nauseated as if she were watching a car accident happen. No no no no. Her lungs constricted. For a split second, she thought she might pass out.

  “How old is she, exactly? How old is your daughter?”

  She wished she could pass out. The oblivion of unconsciousness would be a blessing right now. The sweetness of strawberries in the back of her throat suddenly tasted like every nightmare she’d ever had.

  Jace shook his head in denial even as his eyes narrowed in accusation. “She’s not...mine, is she? I sound ridiculous. Of course she’s not! You would have told me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tears began to spill over her cheeks. “Jace, I am so, so sorry.” Then she was out of the booth, nearly crashing into a waitress.

  Layla bolted for the exit, surprised but grateful that he didn’t try to stop her. Maybe he was too shocked to follow. Or maybe he was just disgusted by the sight of her and wanted her gone. She wouldn’t blame him. At the moment, the only thing stronger than Layla’s own self-disgust was the soul-deep need to protect her daughter from whatever came next.

  Chapter 7

  Growing up, Jace had never done as well in school as his older brothers. It had been embarrassing to struggle in classes all day, then be surrounded by straight-A students at the dinner table each night. But he’d never felt truly stupid until right this moment, staring sightlessly after Layla while he sat anchored by the enormity of the truth.

  How could I not have guessed before now? He’d taken the virginity of a teenage girl and hadn’t stopped to do the math when he later learned she’d had a baby? So. Damn. Stupid.

  Then again, he’d been nineteen and striking out on his own for the first time, self-absorbed with his life. And Layla’s family hadn’t exactly advertised her pregnant-and-unwed status. He struggled to recall when he’d first heard she was a mother. Had someone in his family told him, or had it been Chris? Had his best friend known this entire time about Layla’s secret? The betrayal already knifing through him sharpened until common sense kicked in—if Chris found out Jace slept with his sister, there would have been a violent reckoning years ago. So Jace wasn’t the only one she’d kept in the dark.

  The biggest reason it had never dawned on him to question whether he was a father was the simplest: he’d trusted her. They had been friends. He’d known Layla her entire life, and he’d cared about her. He’d never imagined that she might lie to him. Even now, in the wake of her unspoken confession, part of him still rejected the possibility of her being dishonest. How could she have kept his own child from him? He was a father. Yet he’d missed first steps and first words. He knew nothing at all about his daughter. Was she artistic like his niece Aly, or shy like Lily, or athletic like—

  My family! Thoughts of his brothers’ children made Jace realize the scope of the situation. Not only was he a dad, Cole and Will were uncles. Jace’s parents had a new grandchild they hadn’t even known existed. His mind reeled. Did he call a family meeting or tell each of them individually? Over the phone or in person? Who should he talk to first?

  The tiny corner of his brain that was still able to function rationally whispered Layla. You have to talk to her before you do anything else.

  But he couldn’t. Not yet. The rage and hurt were too raw. He might say something that would destroy their friendship forever. So what? She’s not your friend. She’s a liar.

  Her apology echoed in his head, but he refused to be swayed by the ragged heartbreak in her voice. Jace, I am so, so sorry. Ha! Sorry she got caught, maybe. Would she ever have told him the truth if the guilt on her face hadn’t given her away? He imagined his daughter learning to drive at sixteen without him there to share pointers. Walking down the aisle on her wedding day without him beside her.

  Blind with fury, he reached in his wallet and threw a handful of bills on the table, overpaying and not caring. He sure as hell hoped one of his brothers had sage advice on how to forgive Layla because, right now, he didn’t trust himself to speak to her ever again. He would have to, though, in order to meet his daughter. Layla had kept them apart far too long, and he’d be damned if he would sit on the sidelines of his child’s life.

  Time to start making up for lost years, whether Layla Dempsey liked it or not.

  * * *

  The sun was setting when Layla finally staggered through the back door of Gena’s house. After she’d made it to her car earlier, she’d driven to the nearby park and had a long cry. It had taken over an hour to get it out of her system. She’d finally been calm enough to drive to her cousin’s, but now she was dehydrated and exhausted.

  “Hey.” Gena greeted her from a bent-over position, checking on whatever was cooking in the oven. “You’re back in time for dinner. Did Jace find you? He—Dear God. What happened?” Tossing a polka-dotted oven mitt on the counter, she regarded Layla with alarm.

  Layla knew her eyes were swollen and her face was tear-stained. “Where’s Addie?” The last thing her anxious daughter needed was to see Layla ravaged with grief.

  “I asked her to wash up for supper. Are you okay? Did something happen to Chris? Is—”

  “No, it’s not that. I’ll run Addie a bubble bath later, and we can talk then. You two start dinner without me. I’m not hungry, anyway. I’ll just go...” Second-guess my entire adult life? Wish today had never happened? “Splash some cold water on my face.” Yeah, that would solve her problems.

  Gena squeezed her hand. “Whatever it is, things will be okay. You’re a survivor, Layla.”

  Maybe. But survivors could still be bad people.

  She would never forget the look on Jace’s face as he tried to reason himself out of the truth. She’s not mine. You would have told me. As a terrified teenager, Layla had impulsively done what she thought necessary to survive the crisis and start a new life for her and her daughter. She’d succeeded, but at what cost? What would the fallout be from the choices she’d made?

  The scared, reactionary part of her wanted to put Addie in the car and put Cupid’s Bow in her rearview mirror. You can’t keep running away. It had worked once—temporarily—but she wasn’t seventeen anymore. And consequences had a way of catching up.

  * * *

  “You know,” Cole drawled as Jace rolled down his truck window, “this is the kind of behavior I arrest people for. Wanna tell me why you’re parked outside my house in the middle of the night like a thief casing the place?”

  “Middle of the night? It’s barely dark.”

  “Which doesn’t actually answer the question.” Cole frowned. “I don’t know what’s up, but come inside. We’ll talk about it.”

  That was exactly why Jace had come here—to share everything that had happened with his big brother and get Cole’s advice. Yet, when he’d tried to imagine what to say, where to begin, he’d been so paralyzed with conflicting emotions, he hadn’t even made it out of the truck. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not fit company.”

  “That’s never stopped you before.”<
br />
  “Ha ha.”

  Cole rounded the front of the truck, then got in on the passenger side. “Last time I parked with someone in a truck on a dark street was senior year with Bobbi Sue McClain. You are a serious step down from that.”

  Jace rolled his eyes. “If Bobbi Sue walked by you on the street in a bikini, you’d be too busy doting on your wife to even notice.”

  “Very true.” Cole grinned the self-satisfied smile of a man completely content with his life. It would be obnoxious as hell if it weren’t so genuine. “Kate and the kids are my world.”

  Jace hated how jealous the statement made him. Kate and Cole were partners. They shared everything—affection, children, inside jokes. Kate would never have lied to her husband. Yeah, but Layla’s not your wife. She wasn’t even your girlfriend. She was just a kid. Why was he trying to rationalize her actions? She’d kept the truth from him—for years. “What if Kate did something you couldn’t forgive?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m mad at...a friend.” The word stuck to the roof of his mouth like peanut butter. Friends didn’t betray each other. “I’m trying to figure out how to move past it.”

  “As the sheriff, I can’t endorse this, but speaking as your brother, have you considered just taking a swing at him and then buying a beer? That seems to work for the Breelan brothers when they need to solve disputes.”

  “This friend is female.”

  “Oh. Forget what I said about taking a swing.” Cole was quiet a moment, processing. “Is this Kelli? Are the two of you talking again?”

  “No. Doesn’t matter who it is.”

  “The hell it doesn’t. Your hypothetical comparison was Kate. You didn’t ask how I’d forgive one of the deputies at the station or one of my poker buddies who ticked me off. You asked about the woman I love. What’s going on, Jace?”

  Words and phrases ricocheted around his mind. He hesitated, unsure who he was trying to protect—Layla or himself. As angry was he was with her, he didn’t want his family to hate her. And there was no way to explain that she’d had his child without first admitting he’d slept with his best friend’s teenage sister.

  Even though he’d been a teenager, too, he should have had the good sense to send her away. Her feelings would have been hurt, but she would have recovered. Cole was going to smack him upside the head for giving in to selfish temptation and for not bothering with a condom. No matter what assurances Layla had made at the time, Jace should have taken some responsibility. An extra minute or two of effort on his part would have changed everything for her. She wouldn’t have left Cupid’s Bow, pregnant and ashamed. There wouldn’t be a rift between her and her mother. Ever since she’d fled the diner, he’d been furious with Layla, but some of his anger was beginning to shift direction like a weather vane in the wind. He’d gotten her pregnant and permanently altered the course of her life. It was a miracle she didn’t hate his guts.

  Cole cleared his throat. “You’re starting to freak me out a little. What’s with the skulking outside my house and the weird mysterious silences?”

  “I’m just realizing that some things are difficult to discuss.” If he, a grown-ass man, was having trouble telling his brother about this, how much harder had it been for her as a kid to face her family?

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come inside?” Cole pressed. “Luke is at a friend’s house, but the girls are home. You know they always love seeing you.”

  Not too long ago, Jace had decided that, as much as he loved being an uncle, he was ready to be a dad. Now he would find out the hard way whether he’d been right. Was he ready? Would interacting with his own child come as naturally to him as the hours he’d spent playing and joking with his nieces? Or would he botch it up somehow? There would be a new level of pressure he’d never experienced.

  “Actually,” Jace said, “I think I’m gonna head home for the night. Think some things over.”

  “Okay. You know where to find me if you change your mind.” Giving him one last curious look, Cole climbed down from the truck and headed inside to his family.

  Once Jace made it back to his own place, he fired up his laptop. Moments later, he was on the website for Layla’s photo studio. She had a gallery of pictures so that potential clients could see her work. No names were listed of the subjects, but there was one little girl shown in a variety of shots at a few different ages. She was the curly-haired miniature of her mama. His heart twisted, but not just with pain and betrayal. This time there was something sweet and sharp, too. I’m a daddy. He enlarged the photo. On the screen, his daughter stared back with eyes surprisingly like his own, and Jace knew he would never be the same.

  * * *

  “Oh, wow.” It was the fifth time Gena had said that in as many minutes. She seemed stuck on repeat. “I just... Wow.”

  “I know.” Layla sniffled, reaching for the tissue box her cousin had set on the kitchen table. “It’s a lot to process.”

  “And your parents don’t even know?”

  Layla shook her head. “You’re the only one who knows.” Jace’s appalled expression flashed through her mind. “Well, you’re the only one I’ve told, anyway.”

  “Do you want wine?” Gena stood. “I feel like I should pour you wine.”

  “Thanks, but I’m majorly dehydrated. Wine would just make my headache worse.”

  Her cousin sat back down. “I wish I knew what to say.”

  “At least you’re speaking to me.” Despite the many negative emotions Layla had experienced in the last twelve hours, now that she’d finally told someone the whole story from start to finish, she actually felt a tiny bit better.

  “I cannot believe your first time was with Jace Trent. Lucky girl.”

  “Gena! That’s so not the point of all this.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t tell me back then what you planned to do.”

  “I almost did, but I was afraid you’d try to talk me out of it—which would have worked. I was nervous as hell. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  “Clearly. Or you would have paid more attention to the birth control instructions.” The teasing gleam in her eyes faded. “What about Addie? What have you told her about her father?”

  “The truth, more or less—that he was someone I loved but that he lives far away now and that we were separated before he knew she was in my tummy.” She squirmed in her chair, aware that she was stretching the boundaries of honesty. Austin and Cupid’s Bow weren’t that far apart. “It hasn’t come up much yet. Kids adjust to whatever norm they’re raised with. She never had a dad, just me and her grandpa, and she didn’t voice much curiosity about it until this year, when she started school. Even now, there are kids in her class with one parent, three parents, same-gender parents... I don’t think the lack of a father has traumatized her too much.”

  “You trying to convince me of that or yourself?” Gena asked gently.

  Layla turned in the direction of the bathroom, where they could hear the faint sounds of Addie splashing and singing in the tub. For all her anxieties and phobias, she’d never been one of those kids who was nervous about swimming pools or water. “I love her so much.”

  “I know you do. Which is why you have to tell her about her dad. You’ll need to come clean with your mom and Chris, too.”

  “Oh, God.” She covered her eyes with her hands.

  “Jace and his family are close. He’s probably already told them.” Gena glanced out the window, as if checking for an angry horde of Trents with pitchforks and torches. “You can’t risk that Chris or Aunt Claire—or, God forbid, Addie—will hear the truth from anyone but you.”

  Layla heaved a sigh. “The reason I came to town was to help Chris. He doesn’t need the stress of this news. What if it drives a wedge between him and Jace? Or what if my mother comes unhinged, and my brother gets more preoccupied wi
th mediating than recovering?” Now that the truth was beginning to leak out, she owed the people in her life some explanations, but wouldn’t it be better to at least wait until Chris was out of the hospital? “Do you really think Jace has told his family already?”

  “Hard to say.” Gena gave her a sympathetic look. “But there is one person who knows for sure.”

  * * *

  “What am I doing here?” Layla muttered as she waited to see if there was a response to her knock. “I should have just called.” She’d considered phoning, but she’d decided there was a better-than-even chance that Jace would hang up on her. It was much more difficult to get rid of a determined woman with her foot wedged in the doorway.

  The front door swung open, and Jace stood there in a dark blue T-shirt and Dallas Cowboy sweatpants. If he was surprised to see her, he didn’t let it show in his guarded expression.

  “I know it’s late,” she said apologetically, “but I didn’t think you’d be asleep. Under the circumstances.”

  “Good guess.”

  She tensed, braced for anger and accusations.

  But then he sighed, stepping out onto the porch with her. “I get why you’re here—we definitely need to talk—but I don’t think I can do this tonight.”

  “I understand.” She leaned on the railing, reliving old memories and the crushing sense of being so overwhelmed she could barely breathe. “When I first suspected I might be pregnant, I drove two towns away to buy the test. When it turned up positive, I was so... I couldn’t think. I was scared and numb and dazed. I got in so much trouble that week because I couldn’t concentrate on a thing my teachers or my mom said to me. I was putting my shoes on the wrong feet and bumping into walls. It’s a miracle I didn’t accidentally wander into traffic. So I know what it’s like to need time to process.”