by Jane Porter
Nearing the two-story log cabin house, Billy spotted a small navy car in the circular gravel driveway. He didn’t recognize the car, nor could think of anyone he knew with California plates. Billy frowned as he settled his horse into his stall, quickly unsaddling the gelding and giving him a rub down. Leaving the barn, he glanced at the car once more, this time noting the words UC Riverside on the license plate frame. Still no help. He was completely clueless, and somehow he didn’t think Publishers Clearinghouse announced its sweepstakes winners with a little car from San Bernardino, California.
Billy entered the house through the kitchen door, walking in on his mom seated at the big table with a strange woman. His mom was holding a baby. Billy’s stomach did a sharp nosedive, plummeting straight to the tips of his boots. He glanced at the lady, didn’t know her, glanced back to his mom who was gently patting the baby on his back. His forehead furrowed even as icy adrenaline flooded his veins.
What was going on?
His mom glanced up, met his gaze, her expression devoid of all emotion. “There you are,” she said evenly. “I was telling Erika it would take you about a half an hour, and it did.”
He looked at this Erika, wondering what she was doing here, wondering why his mother was holding the baby, wondering what any of this had to do with him. But he revealed none of it in his expression.
Instead, he washed his hands at the kitchen sink, and then turned. “Anyone want coffee? Tea? I could put the kettle on.”
“No, thank you,” Erika said. “Your mom already offered.”
His mother shook her head. “Now that you’re here, I’m going to leave you two to talk.”
Erika left her seat to take the baby, and then his mom slowly, carefully rose, reaching for her walker. “It was nice to meet you, Erika,” she said, before making her way from the room, her walker making little clicking sounds of the hardwood floor.
It was quiet after his mother left. Billy retrieved a mug from the cupboard, and then filled it with coffee from the coffeepot, giving Erika time to speak. She didn’t.
His gaze swept her and the baby. He didn’t know her. Thank God. Baby wasn’t his.
And then his attention was caught by a yellow coat hanging on a hook near the back door. Bright yellow coat with blue flowers.
He’d seen that coat before. And now that he was thinking about it, her face looked vaguely familiar, but why? Where? His brow creased, trying to remember.
He walked to the table, pulled a chair out and sat down across from her. “Have we met?”
She shifted the baby, setting him down on her lap, facing outward. “Not officially, no.”
He circled the mug with his palm. It warmed his hand. “You look familiar.”
“I bumped into you, a few weeks ago. At the Tucson rodeo.”
And then it came to him. The parking lot. The rain. And the vivid yellow jacket with French blue flowers. But the memory shifted to a sense of mistrust. First Tucson, now here. Why?
“I remember you,” he said flatly. “What can I do for you?”
“I—” Her lips parted, and she touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip before looking up into his face, her eyes meeting his. “I’m sorry. This isn’t easy.”
“Maybe just say it.”
“This is your son, Beck. Beck Wyatt.”
Billy’s gaze locked with hers, his expression hard, unsmiling. He stiffened, and gave her a long unsmiling look. “Not following.”
“He’s yours. Your son. Paternity will be legally established as soon as you take a DNA test—”
“Since we’ve never slept together, how is he mine?”
“You did sleep with someone. It just wasn’t me.” Glancing down, she gently, lightly ran her hand across the baby’s bald head. “His mom is gone, which is why I’ve been trying to find you.” She looked back up at him. “And, yes, I found you in Tucson, but you were with someone and it didn’t seem right to… do this… there.”
Tucson… who was he with? And then he remembered. Jenna. “Appreciate that.”
“I went to the San Antonio Stock Show the next weekend, but you were with a redhead then. I quickly realized that I would probably not ever find you… alone.” Her chin lifted. “So here I am.”
“Persistent, aren’t you?”
“I have to be. We have a child without a mom, in need of a dad—”
His eyes narrowed. “You don’t look like social services.”
“I’m not. I’m April’s cousin.”
April.
He immediately conjured a tall slim dancer from Las Vegas. A sexy wild thing. They’d dated for a bit. Had some good times together. “April Estes?” he asked.
Erika nodded. “She was a professional dancer—”
“From Vegas,” he finished. “You said she’s gone. What do you mean by that? She’s taken off, or…”
“Or. April was killed in a car crash early February.” Erika’s voice cracked. “They say she died instantly. At least I hope so. Beck was in the car, but he wasn’t hurt. April made mistakes, but at least she’d secured him properly in the car seat so he survived the crash. Only now he’s alone.”
Billy’s attention shifted to the baby in her arms. The infant was ridiculously small, with a ridiculously big bald head and a round, pale moon face. “Why do you think he’s mine?”
“Besides his name being Wyatt?”
“That’s not his legal name—”
“It’s on his birth certificate.”
“Then it’s a middle name, not his surname. Can’t be. Not without me signing a birth certificate.”
She said nothing for a moment, surprised. “You know how this works then?”
“I’ve always been careful. I always use protection.”
“Something failed this time, because you’re his dad.”
He got up, walked to the sink, arms folded across his chest. “April told you this?”
“No. I’ve been digging through her things, trying to piece it together.”
“Then you’ve pieced it wrong. There’s no way the baby is mine.”
“You weren’t together in Tucson last year, for the rodeo?” Before he could answer, Erika added, “In case it’s hard to remember that far back, I found a photo album she made. If you’ll just hold him—” She rose and thrust the infant against his chest, leaving him there. “I’ll show you.”
Billy had instinctively wrapped an arm around the baby when she’d pushed the child toward him, and now he watched as she went to the table and dug a small photo book from her oversized purse. She marched back toward him and opened the little book, flipping through pages filled with photos and captions. He couldn’t read the captions but the photos were clearly of him and April. April looking sensational in snug jeans, boots, and a tight shirt. April in his cowboy hat. April with him, here at the fairgrounds. At a bar. At a restaurant. Kissing. Wrestling. Cuddling naked in bed. April wearing nothing but his hat.
He swallowed, glanced at the top of moon face’s bald head and asked, “When was he born?”
“November thirtieth.” The woman’s gaze met his. “He would have been conceived during last year’s Tucson rodeo.”
“She could have been already pregnant or gotten pregnant right after.”
“There was no one else in her life at the time. Just you.”
“How do you know?”
Erika froze, his question catching her off guard. Interesting. So she wasn’t as sure of herself as she thought. “April and I were not ever in a relationship. We just hooked up now and then.”
“That hooking up now and then still created your little bundle of joy.” Erika smiled, but it was a tight smile, and it didn’t reach her eyes. Her voice hardened, each word short, sharp. “And he needs his dad. He has no one else.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve temporarily been appointed a guardian, and I’d like to remain in his life, play the doting aunt, or whatever one would call me, but I’m not his mom, nor am I prepa
red to be, not when I’m single, a full-time grad student, unable to financially provide.”
“I’m sorry. What is your name again?”
“Erika.”
“Listen, Erika, I don’t think he’s mine, but, if he was, I would, of course, financially provide for him, but I live on the road. I live out of a trailer. My life is spent in parking lots of fairgrounds across the country—”
“Then you might need to make some changes to your life. Your son needs you.”
“I just found out five minutes ago I might have a kid, and now you’re telling me to drop everything?”
“I had to when they called and said April was gone, and the baby isn’t even mine. Beck is yours—”
“I think you assume too much.”
“Then let’s just get the test done, and we’ll have the answer you need.”
She nodded at the baby beginning to squirm against his chest. “And the answer he needs, too.”
“Erika, it’s my granddad’s birthday today and I’m only home for a few days. We can’t do this here and now. Not in front of my family. It’s not fair to them—”
“What about Beck?”
“He has no idea what we’re discussing.”
“So you’re not going to introduce him to your family?”
“No. Not until we know, and there’s no way to know definitely now. Tomorrow I’m back on the road, heading to Idaho and then Oregon and I’ll find a place to take a paternity test this week. I’m sure there’s somewhere I could hit on the way, but until we have paternity squared away, I’m not going to turn myself inside out, or put my family through unnecessary drama, not without proof that that baby is mine.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t believe April.” He returned the baby to her, carefully, but firmly. “I can promise you I wasn’t the only one she was seeing. April told me about some of the others.”
Her jaw dropped. She adjusted Beck in her arms. “Why would she do that?”
He shrugged. “Make me jealous.”
“Did it work?”
“I feel like we’re going down the wrong path with this conversation, so I’m going to walk you to your car, see you off, and we can talk more tomorrow.”
“Once you’re on the road.”
“Yes.”
“You’re running away.”
“No, not running away. But I can promise you one thing, we’re not going to continue this here, now—” Billy broke off as the kitchen door opened and laughter filled the kitchen as his brothers trooped in. He shot Erika a hard look, his expression fierce. “Not a word, not to any of them.”
*
One minute it was just Billy and her, and the next, the kitchen was full of Wyatt men—one cowboy after another, the vintage kitchen alive with deep, masculine voices, broad shoulders, and intense testosterone. The brothers, clearly they were all brothers except for the grandfather, had a remarkable family resemblance, with thick hair ranging from dark gold to a sun-kissed brown. Their eyes were all light, and they each had the same features, strong jaws, straight noses, high cheekbones. Looking at the older man, she could see they’d inherited their rugged good looks from him, as he was the same, only more weathered with silver hair and piercing blue eyes.
The boisterous Wyatts drew up short when they spotted her. She knew the moment each noticed the baby, as their expressions changed, one by one, from open to surprised to guarded. She felt much the same facing them and her heart raced, making her feel anxious all over.
“Don’t mind me,” she said brightly, trying to hide her nerves, and just how much Billy had rattled her. “I’m on my way out.”
One of the brothers looked to Billy, but Billy said nothing.
She lifted her purse, which also served as a diaper bag, and headed for the door, stepping between the cluster of men. As she lifted her cheerful yellow, flower-strewn coat, the older man spoke, his voice deep, almost gruff. “No need to rush away. Nice to have visitors up here.”
“She’s got to get back to town,” Billy said flatly, again giving her that same don’t-try-me look. “The baby needs to eat and nap.” His gaze locked with hers, the blue in his eyes almost icy. “It’s what you’d said, right?”
She stared into his eyes, anxiety fading, anger growing. Who did he think he was? She held his gaze another moment, letting him know she wasn’t intimidated, or impressed. He didn’t care about his son or April. He didn’t seem to care for anyone but himself.
“Not exactly,” she answered, not bothering to smile or soften her tone. “But I will go, as you’ve asked, and since you’ve promised to call me in the morning, I look forward to speaking to you then.”
Erika then looked to the others, nodding stiffly at the circle of men, hating the lump filling her throat. “Goodbye,” she said, before glancing at the senior Wyatt, the one Billy said was celebrating his birthday today. “Happy birthday, Mr. Wyatt. I hope it’s a happy one.” Then she opened the door, stepped out, and closed it firmly behind her.
It had grown cold and windy while she’d been in the house, steely clouds blanketing the sky, hiding the sun. Jaw tight, Erika buckled Beck into his car seat, hating the hot emotions rushing through her, making her feel too many things. She was angry and appalled. She’d known Billy was a playboy, a man who had a woman in every town at every rodeo, but she’d expected him to be a little more interested in his son.
How could April have fallen for him? What had she seen in him? Other than a handsome face and lean, muscular body?
The mudroom door opened and Billy appeared on the back porch. Erika shot him a look of pure disdain as she walked around the car to the driver’s side.
“Hold up,” he said.
She arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“Could you please wait?” he replied, closing the distance between them.
She tugged her coat closer. “Why?”
“My grandfather would like you to join us for dinner.”
She stood even straighter. “Why?”
“It’s his birthday.”
“No, I know that. But why would he want me to join you for dinner? Did you say something to him?”
“No. What would you want me to say?”
“That there is a very good chance that Beck is your baby, and your grandfather’s great-grandson.”
“Not going to do that until we know for sure.”
“Because it’d get his hopes up?”
“Because my brother Joe and his wife Sophie are expecting a baby late spring, the first Wyatt grandbaby for my mother, and I’m not going to steal Joe and Sophie’s thunder, not unless it’s absolutely essential.”
“Seems like everybody’s feelings are more important than a four-month-old baby’s needs.
His jaw tightened. “You’re a stranger, and you show up on our doorstep with a baby and a photo book, claiming I’m its dad—”
“He’s not an it. Beck is a person, a boy—”
“And you don’t expect me to be suspicious? I’m supposed to believe whatever you say without any proof?”
“What do I gain by making false claims?”
He shrugged. “Money.”
Stunned, revolted, she stepped back, bumping hard into the mirror on the side of her car. “Wow. Did you really just say that?”
He shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Maybe you should keep your junk in your pants then—”
“I wasn’t talking about me.”
Her face burned hot but she held his icy-blue gaze, unable to remember when she was last so angry. “Please apologize to your grandfather, but I can’t stay. I have a room booked in town, at the Bramble House, and maybe after your dinner, you can spare me five minutes of your incredibly valuable time.”
“You make it very difficult to have a conversation with you.”
“Whereas you’re just not ever available for a conversation.”
“Can I just say that your hostility—” He broke o
ff as two women came into view, walking up the road, one with dark brown hair and visibly pregnant carrying packages, while the other, a slim brunette in tight jeans and boots, held a cake stand with an extravagantly frosted birthday cake.
Erika felt the scrutiny of the women as they approached. Her chin notched up a fraction, even as her stomach did a flip-flop. She felt anxious and defensive and hated it. “That’s a beautiful cake,” she said, forcing a smile.
The woman carrying the cake nodded to the pregnant woman. “Sophie made it. She’s our resident baker.”
“Hope you’re staying to have some,” Sophie said. “We have plenty.” She gave the packages to Billy and extended her hand. “I’m Sophie Wyatt, Joe’s wife. Welcome to the Diamond W Ranch.”
“Erika Baylor,” Erika answered, grateful for Sophie’s friendliness. “I met your husband inside.” She looked at the cowgirl with the cake. “And probably yours?”
“Sam,” the cowgirl answered, one of her long braids slipping over her shoulder. “I’m Ivy Wyatt. We don’t live here, just visiting for the day. I’m going to get the cake inside, but please don’t rush away. Sophie and I love when we can add more girls to the mix. Balances out some of the intense male energy.” She started for the cabin and then paused. “Billy, bring Granddad’s presents in. Let Sophie have a moment with Erika while you and I set the table.”
Billy’s mouth open, closed. He glowered at Ivy, who simply arched an eyebrow, not at all intimidated. Erika was impressed. And not just with Ivy, but Sophie, too. Clearly these women knew how to handle their men.
Billy shot her an indecipherable look, before following Ivy up the porch and into the house.
As the door shut behind Billy, Sophie gave Erika a bright smile. “He can be charming.”
Erika couldn’t find it in her to smile back. “What have you heard, if anything?”
“That there was a possible Wyatt baby sighting.” Sophie patted her round stomach. “Other than this one.”
Heat rushed through Erika. “I didn’t say anything to the others—”
“You didn’t have to. According to Joe, he looks like a Wyatt baby.”
