The Doctor's Texas Baby

by Deb Kastner

  He nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact with her. “Yes. For Matty.”

  Her heart dropped like lead.

  “But,” he continued, as a tumble of emotion squeezed the air out of her lungs, “not just Matty.”

  He paused and reached for her, framing her face with one hand. His work-worn hands were scratchy against her cheek, but Carolina thought she’d never felt anything nicer. The chemistry ricocheting between them was infinitely familiar and yet paradoxically brand-new.

  They weren’t the same people they had been three years ago. They had both changed. Matured.

  They had a son now.

  “Carolina, I—”

  He stopped abruptly.

  She waited. She certainly couldn’t say anything. Her capacity for speech had completely deserted her the moment Wyatt touched her.

  “Back at the doctor’s office? When we were praying together? That felt—well, it felt like we were a family. A real family. I want... I need to know if...”

  He didn’t finish his question, or statement, or whatever it was.

  Instead, he brought his lips down on hers.

  At first, his kiss was soft, a bare, butterfly-winged brush of his lips over hers. But then it turned urgent, hungry, as he pulled her closer and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He was seeking answers to the questions he could not voice, and yet he was communicating to her at the very same time.

  A rush of warmth flooded her heart as she realized she was home in Wyatt’s arms.

  She never should have left.

  Yet there was so much still unresolved between them.

  They could no more have avoided this moment than they could have stopped the sun from shining. Strong emotions burned a path between them, as they always had, together with a deep longing to make what they had between them something better. Greater.

  Forever.

  The sum of two parts somehow incredibly equaling three. Maybe even more, in time.

  But could he ever truly forgive her for taking Matty away from him? Could they work things out and move forward with their lives together? Even if she decided to make her permanent home in Haven, that didn’t mean Wyatt would. What about all the ambitions he held? Years changed a person, but some dreams never altered. He’d been so sure that was what he wanted to do.

  Could his dreams have changed?

  Wyatt’s lips, his gentle touch and the way he whispered her name between kisses—these all gave her reasons to hope, perhaps even to start believing in the possibility of a future between them.

  And yet she knew that there was still a chasm between them that was so deep she was afraid to cross it.

  She had no doubt that Wyatt believed he knew what he wanted now. But what about the future?

  His future?

  Could he really give up his dreams in exchange for a staid and settled life with her and Matty? Could he stay here in Haven and truly be happy, without seeing all that was beyond the borders?

  When push came to shove—would he stay?

  Chapter Nine

  Would she stay?

  That had been the single most important question haunting Wyatt, a thread of doubt thrumming through his mind even at the exact moment that her soft, full lips had molded to his and a bouquet of warmth and emotion bloomed in his chest.

  He’d gloried in the feel of her arms wrapped around his neck. He hadn’t wanted to leave her embrace.

  Not ever.

  Especially when she’d burrowed her head on his chest, her ear resting next to his pounding heart. As he’d rested his chin against her hair and breathed in the scent of her, he had considered all the ways he wanted to care for her. Protect her.

  Love her.

  Those words frightened him. He’d been there before, and the results had been catastrophic. He was still far too vulnerable, too gun-shy, to do anything but tread lightly. Their romantic relationship, assuming they ever had one, would take a long time to come to fruition, if it ever did.

  She had run away from him once. He could not and would not risk his heart again—not until he knew for certain that she returned his love.

  His heart wouldn’t survive if she left again—especially because this time she had their son. He didn’t want to fight for shared custody, but he couldn’t be parted from his son. There was no way he would ever heal from that kind of pain.

  So for now, his heart was officially on lockdown.

  And he suspected she was feeling much the same way.

  She hadn’t said much after they’d kissed. She’d slid out of the passenger seat and walked around to the driver’s side so she could take her sedan home. After he’d exited the vehicle, he’d grabbed her hand and tried to kiss her good-night, but she’d turned her head so his lips had brushed her cheek instead.

  Already he could sense she was withdrawing from him. He didn’t know why, but he was determined to stay the course this time—to show her all the reasons in the world why she ought to make Haven her permanent home.

  And it wasn’t just because of Matty.

  He couldn’t begin to read the woman’s mind, but he was going to ask about her plans.

  Flat out. No holds barred.

  Was there any chance of them—all three of them—making a future together?

  That, he believed, was where he’d gone wrong the last time around. They’d both known they should have waited to be together, and once it happened, he’d backed off. And so had she. So they didn’t speak of it, and the gap increased between them until he hadn’t known how to cross it.

  He was the first to admit it would take a lot of work. The blunder he’d made with Matty and the goat was proof of that. But he was quickly learning that God was the God of second chances. And if the Lord opened up the door for him and Carolina, he was going to walk through it.

  After the shake-up on Saturday, he’d gone to Sunday services at Haven’s community church for the first time in his adult life. He hadn’t known what to expect, but he’d actually enjoyed singing the hymns—however off-key he might have been—and Pastor Andrew’s sermon about God’s love and forgiveness only made Wyatt more determined than ever to straighten out his personal life.

  He’d thought maybe people would judge him, as he’d never before seen fit to darken the door of a church, but everyone had been surprisingly welcoming. Pastor Andrew had even offered to meet Wyatt in private to answer any questions he might have about being a Christian.

  He’d always envied Carolina’s faith. It was amazing to realize the same God Carolina talked to so openly was willing to listen to him, as well.

  His mind full of future plans, he showered and shaved and prepared for his usual Monday morning rounds. The beginning of the week was usually very quiet, and most of the local ranchers called his office if they needed to set up an appointment for veterinary services, so he was surprised when his cell phone rang.

  Only in an emergency did anyone call his cell phone line. A cow that had suddenly fallen ill, or a mare in foal.

  He glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was the number for the boys ranch.

  “Wyatt?” It was Bea Brewster’s voice on the line. “I think you need to get over here as soon as possible.”

  Wyatt could plainly hear the tightness in her voice, the near panic of her tone.

  Bea Brewster never panicked.

  “Is it one of the animals?” he asked, tucking the phone to his chin while he pulled on one tan cowboy boot and then the other.

  “No.” Bea swept in an audible gasp of air. “Much worse. It’s Johnny Drake. I knew you would want to know as soon as possible, since you mentor the boy.”

  “What about Johnny?” Wyatt’s gut was churning like a combine. Johnny typically stayed in the trenches and avoided trouble. “Is he hurt?�
�

  “No.” Bea paused. “He’s gone.”

  “What?” Wyatt’s voice had risen an octave as his heart sprinted into gear. “What do you mean, gone?”

  “His house parents went to find him when he didn’t show up for breakfast this morning. He wasn’t in his room. He didn’t go to school. His duffel bag, most of his clothes and all of his books are missing.”

  “I’ll be there in five,” Wyatt said, even though the boys ranch was a good ten-minute drive away.

  Panic seared his chest.

  Why did it have to be Johnny?

  What could have happened to the teenager that would press him to leave on the sly? Unlike many of the other boys, Johnny didn’t have relatives waiting to pick him up when he was done with his time on the ranch. He was going to be aging out soon, on his eighteenth birthday—which, now that Wyatt thought about it, was coming up soon, at the beginning of April.

  The ranch would allow him to finish out the school year, but by then Johnny would have to make plans for what he was going to do next.

  “Where are you, dude?” Wyatt said aloud, his voice echoing in the truck’s cab.

  He didn’t know what prompted him to do so, but he used the Bluetooth on his dashboard to dial Carolina’s cell phone number, which thankfully was on speed dial.

  “Can you meet me at the boys ranch as soon as possible?”

  “Wyatt? What’s wrong? You sound as if you are about ready to jump out of your skin.”

  “I feel like I’m freaking out. I am about to have a major meltdown.” He slammed his palm onto the steering wheel. “Johnny Drake has gone missing.”

  “Missing missing? Like he disappeared?”

  “That’s what Bea thinks. And I don’t think he is coming back. He took his duffel bag with his clothes in it. Even more telling, he has all of his books with him.”

  “Oh, wow,” she breathed. “Let me get Matty dressed and see if my next-door neighbor will watch him for a bit, and then I’ll be right there.”

  Wyatt didn’t know why having Carolina’s presence at the ranch was so reassuring, but it was. He needed her support. He just hadn’t realized until this moment how much.

  Carolina’s cabin was further from the boys ranch than Wyatt’s own ranch, so it was to his surprise she was waiting for him when he pulled up, already deep in conversation with Bea Brewster.

  “Oh, Wyatt.” Carolina’s beautiful golden-brown eyes were glittering with tears. She murmured his name again and pressed herself into his embrace, wrapping her quivering arms around his waist and tucking her head onto his chest.

  He held her tightly as a sense of foreboding washed over him. He couldn’t tell by her tone whether she was seeking his comfort or giving hers, but holding her in his arms made it easier for him to get a grip on his emotions.

  Carolina cared for Johnny. She had really gotten to know the teenager over the past few weeks. She had even had him babysit Matty on several occasions.

  But she also knew how important Johnny was to Wyatt. The young man was far more than merely a kid he mentored. Johnny had given him purpose when he’d been floundering, had been a lifeline when he’d needed one. He had shown Wyatt that he could make a difference right where he was, without traveling to another continent to find meaning in his life. He was an indelible part of Wyatt’s world.

  So why would Johnny run away? Why hadn’t he come to Wyatt first? He knew the boy was often the object of ridicule because of his stutter, but that had been the case all his life.

  What had changed?

  What would have caused him to take such a drastic action without letting anyone know about it?

  Why had he run?

  “Do you have any leads on him?” Wyatt asked, gently turning Carolina so they both faced Bea. He kept Carolina within the circle of his arms, her back solid against his chest. He wasn’t going to apologize for it. He didn’t care who saw his actions or how they interpreted them.

  She needed him right now, and in the strangest way, he found relief for his own distress by offering her comfort, by being strong for both of them.

  “We don’t have a clue,” said Bea. “He didn’t tell anyone where he was going and he didn’t leave a note.”

  “Maybe we’re overreacting. When was the last time anyone saw him?” Wyatt ran a palm across his whiskered jaw.

  “He was at dinner last evening. No one remembers seeing him afterward. He wasn’t at any of the ranch’s formal programs, but at the time, we didn’t consider it any real cause for alarm. You know Johnny. Sometimes he gets his nose stuck in a book and forgets where he is and where he is supposed to be.”

  “I’m not trying to cast any kind of blame here, so please don’t take this the wrong way,” Carolina said with a catch in her voice. “But don’t the house parents check the boys before lights-out every night?”

  “Johnny’s house parents, Eleanor and Edward Mack, did do a brief head count before lockdown last night.”

  “So then bedtime was actually the last time anyone saw him,” Wyatt clarified.

  “No. Unfortunately, Johnny played one of the oldest tricks in the books on us. He tucked a blanket inside his sheets to look like a body and left a hoodie propped on the pillow to create the shadow of a head. Ed didn’t have any cause to take a closer look in the dark. He didn’t suspect a thing. It was only this morning when Johnny didn’t appear for breakfast that the Macks went back and discovered Johnny’s duplicity.”

  As they spoke, several other folks arrived. News traveled fast in Haven. Some were employees and volunteers at the boys ranch, while others were members of the board of the Lone Star Cowboy League. Some of the older boys were also milling around, curious as to what had happened to one of their own.

  Wyatt was grateful that he lived in the close-knit small town where residents looked after each other—and where folks counted the boys at the ranch in their number.

  “We’ve got an additional problem,” Bea continued, raising her voice so she could be heard by the growing crowd. “And it’s a doozy.”

  A hush went over the people gathered in the yard.

  “As most of you know, because of the recent thefts and arson, the Department of Family and Protective Services has been—” Bea paused, searching for the right words “—keeping a closer eye on us than they might otherwise be doing. And who can blame them? They have the boys’ best interests at heart, just like we do.”

  Carolina’s grip on Wyatt’s forearm tightened and he laid his hand over hers. The gnawing in the pit of his stomach was turning into a sharp-toothed grind.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out where Bea’s concerns were taking her.

  “We’ve had word that the DFPS is planning to make an unannounced visit soon—maybe as early as today. If they discover that one of our boys is missing—well, let’s just say it will look bad for us. Of course, the most important thing is that we find Johnny and bring him back safe and sound. Then we’ll deal with the authorities.”

  Gabe Everett stepped forward. “Okay, folks, it is obviously imperative, for both Johnny’s sake and ours, that we locate the boy as soon as possible and return him to the ranch. We appreciate any help you all can give us.”

  There were several murmurs of agreement among the folks in the gathering.

  “I think we should split into groups,” Nick McGarrett suggested. “We can cover more ground that way.”

  “I agree,” Bea said. “Gabe, Katie and I will stay in the office in case Johnny tries to make contact there, or the DFPS shows up. I will make a list of everyone’s cell phone numbers and we will keep you all regularly updated via text message, so check your phones often.”

  “Nick and I will muster the house parents and double-check all the nooks and crannies in the main residence,” Darcy Hill offered.

  “La
na and I will cover the barns,” Flint Rawlings added, joining hands with his fiancée.

  Gabe assigned Tanner Barstow and Macy Swanson to the other outbuildings. Several members of the Lone Star Cowboy League stepped forward to offer to check on the ranch land, while a number of the town’s residents planned to search in and around Haven. Pastor Andrew indicated that he would return to the church in case Johnny sought help there.

  Wyatt and Carolina stood silently, still clinging together for mutual support.

  Where would Johnny go?

  Wyatt felt like he should know the answer to that question. He knew Johnny better than anyone else at the boys ranch. The answer fluttered in front of him like a butterfly, but when he reached for it, it eluded him, soaring just out of reach.

  Carolina took his hand and led him away from the confusion of the still-forming search parties.

  “What do you think?” she murmured for his ears only. “Do you have any idea where Johnny might have gone?”

  Wyatt growled in frustration. “That’s just it. I feel like I do know. I just can’t quite put everything together in my mind. I’ve got to put this puzzle together. If I don’t figure it out, I’ll be the one at fault.”

  “Why?” Concern lined Carolina’s voice and her hold on his hand tightened. “Do you think he might harm himself?”

  Wyatt felt like a storm had descended over him. Clouds of black and gray settled on his shoulders, making it hard for him to think clearly.

  “What? No. I mean—I don’t think so. Johnny has been through a lot in his life, but he’s got a solid head on his shoulders. He wouldn’t do something stupid. I have no idea why he ran away, but I do think he believes he has a good reason.”

  “I don’t understand. Why did you say you would be to blame, then?”

  “I meant with the DFPS.” He slid his hand from hers and grasped her shoulders, his eyes capturing hers. He needed to see that she understood what he was saying.

  “Go ahead,” she urged, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts and form coherent words.