And Baby Makes Three

by Rebecca Winters

  “Let’s just say it’s my job. From here on out you’ll have to answer to him.” He opened the door, relishing the moment when he exposed her little game, whatever it was.

  Her lissom body stiffened. “This is ridiculous. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  He elevated his dark brows. “Look at it from his point of view. He buried his youngest brother today and came back to the ranch house to be with his closest friends and family. In the process of trying to give comfort to his bereaved sister-in-law, a perfect stranger walks in from out of nowhere with an agenda she refuses to reveal.”

  While he’d been talking, he didn’t think she could fake the growing concern on her face, most likely for the trouble she could be in.

  She stirred restlessly. “Doesn’t the fact that I called out to you for information prove I have no evil intentions?” The straight for ward hint of pleading in her voice almost convinced him.

  “On the contrary,” he rejoindered coolly, “your behavior is more suspect than ever. Shall we go quietly, or do I take you inside in a manner guaranteed to embarrass you in front anyone who might see you?”

  Her face filled with color. “You wouldn’t-” she whispered.

  Not today, no… He’d find another method. But she didn’t know that.

  “Try me, Ms. Arnold.” He checked his watch. “I’ll give you thirty seconds to make up your mind.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  CATHERINE didn’t dare call his bluff, not with those cold pewter eyes bearing down on her features, pinning her to the seat.

  Standing easily at six-three or four, this powerful-looking security guard, wearing an expensive looking formal suit of midnight-blue in deference to the funeral proceedings, had the hard-muscled physique of a male at home in the out-of-doors.

  He was probably in his mid-thirties. She had to admit, albeit be grudgingly, that with his black hair and burnished skin he resembled a rugged facsimile of Adonis. To her ear the name Cole sounded too western for a man who exuded an almost international so phistication.

  Having worked the front desk on the night shift at one of Reno’s top hotels while she’d finished college, she’d met attractive, wealthy men from all over the world. But if she had to pick just one who was the most memorable, he still wouldn’t measure up to the force standing next to her.

  That was what this man was-a dynamic, living, breathing force. He radiated a potent male energy that set him apart from those less endowed. She had to concede she’d more than met her match here. If she could appeal to his honor-

  Catherine sensed something that told her he was a highly principled male with a superior intellect who probably demanded more discipline from himself than those around him.

  How she knew that she couldn’t explain, but she recognized that the owner of the ranch had known what he was doing when he’d hired Cole Farraday. She was left with little choice but to reveal what he’d immediately perceived was her secret motive for coming here.

  “All right,” she exclaimed with a resigned sigh, feeling more vulnerable than ever with the door still open so he could view every inch of her body, which he’d been doing. But in case someone came outside to get in their car, she didn’t want to attract attention by standing next to hers in the presence of the security guard.

  At least sitting here in the driver’s seat, people would think they were simply chatting. Heavens-there was no acceptable way out of this except to get it over with as quickly as possible.

  “The truth is, I’m searching for someone.”

  He kept a hand on top of the open door, perpetuating the fiction that they were acquaintances brought together by the death of a friend. She noted in consequentially he wore no rings, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t married. Not that it mattered. She was here for Bonnie’s sake, and ultimately for her own.

  “That’s a start. Man or woman?”

  Without looking at him she said, “I’ve been given reason to believe he might be working on this ranch, or maybe he used to work here.”

  “Your lover?” he insinuated. “A disgruntled fiancé, perhaps?”

  “Neither one,” she said, refusing to rise to the bait. But on second thought-considering the cir cum stances-he’d posed some logical questions. She decided it was his blunt way of speaking that led her to believe he was goading her. After all, the man was only doing his job.

  She heard his intake of breath, harsh and distinct. He was growing impatient. “Why do you want to find him?”

  The operative question.

  Catherine could be blunt too. “To let this man know the teenager he got pregnant gave birth to his baby.”

  “Ah. That’s a very sad story,” he answered, with an element of sincerity she didn’t doubt, “but, cruel as this will sound, he probably doesn’t want to be found.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed in a less than steady voice now. “They never do. The story gets even sadder. The mother, Terrie, died from complications, leaving the baby without a mother or father.”

  In the periphery she could see the rise and fall of his broad chest. After a tension-filled pause, “This teenager wouldn’t be your sister by any chance?”

  After her emotional gaffe, he’d made another logical assumption, one that happened to strike too close to home. He couldn’t know that despite the difference in their ages, she and Terrie had bonded much like two siblings because of similar life experiences growing up.

  Summoning her resolve to hold on to some vestige of control, she said, “No. She’s no relation.”

  “A friend, then?”

  She grasped on that. “Yes-” It was the truth, after all, but she was already growing too emotional and he sensed it.

  “I noticed from the rim of your license plate you bought this car in Reno. Is that where you live?”

  The man’s radar didn’t miss anything. Whether she chose to tell him or not, he’d be able to find out the pertinent details about her with one simple phone call to the authorities. Considering the nature of his job on such a renowned ranch, the man probably had an inside track. Since he would have friends in high places, she’d save him the trouble.

  “Yes.”

  “Did the teenager in question give birth there too?”

  “Yes.”

  He shifted his weight, an ominous sign which could mean any number of unpleasant things. “Does this cowboy have a name?”

  She craned her head in order to look at his brooding features.

  “I think he probably made it up so Terrie would never know who he really was for fear she’d try to trace him.”

  “Out with it, Ms. Arnold.” He’d come to the end of his tolerance for what had turned out to be a fencing match. In truth she was tired of dancing around the subject too.

  “If I tell you, and you recognize it, you have to promise me you won’t reveal it to anyone else-” she cried, then moaned inwardly, wishing she hadn’t sounded like she was begging.

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to protect him?” came the silky question.

  Her jaw clenched. “I have no love for this man, believe me. But even he has rights I have to honor.”

  He studied her as if she were a paradox. “In that case, why bother to look him up at all?”

  “Because I promised Terrie I would. All she wanted was for him to know he had a daughter. What he does with that information is up to him.” Catherine had no doubts he’d do nothing with it. That was what she was counting on. “It’s no one else’s business.”

  “What about you?” he questioned.

  “I don’t under stand,” she dissembled, vying for time, though she didn’t know why because no one was going to come and rescue her from this precarious dilemma.

  “Let’s not play games.” His lips broke into a for bid ding curl. “In my gut I know there’s a lot more at stake here than your being the simple bearer of this kind of news.”

  Catherine couldn’t afford to lose her cool now. Not in front of this all-seeing, all-kn
owing watchdog who was sounding much more like a chief prosecutor. She needed to stay calm and collected, like the professional she purported to be.

  Filling her lungs with air, she said, “I’m here because of Bonnie.”

  Though his expression didn’t change, a silver flash coming from those suspicious gray eyes indicated she’d hit some kind of nerve. “Bonnie…” he repeated quietly. For want of a more precise word, he sounded haunted.

  “Yes. That’s the name Terrie gave her baby.”

  After an almost eerie interim of silence his deep voice spoke again, this time in a gravelly tone. “And the father’s name?”

  “I-it’s one of those nicknames that could belong to any number of men or their horses, especially those living in this part of the country.”

  “I’m still waiting.” He was about to take the action he’d threatened. A small shiver ran down her spine. She was going to have to trust him.

  “Terrie said he called himself…Buck.”

  The second the name left her lips a daunting stillness pervaded the atmosphere. While she could feel the adrenaline driving the speed of her heart, her interrogator carefully shut the door, as if he’d come to some monumental decision.

  But when he finally spoke through the open window, the last thing she’d expected to hear was, “Start your car, Ms. Arnold. You’re going back to Elko. I’ll be right behind you. When we reach the first exit, follow me into town.”

  So he did know Buck and had decided to take her to him.

  Catherine experienced a moment of triumph to realize she’d be able to fulfill one of Terrie’s dying wishes. For herself she’d been waiting months to confront the amoral male who’d taken advantage of Terrie’s youth and naïveté, then discarded her so cruelly, never worrying if there’d be consequences.

  “I’ll see you there, then,” she responded quietly.

  With a mixed sense of anxiety and anticipation over what she would learn, Catherine turned on the motor, willing to cooperate with this enigmatic man who held the keys to Buck’s whereabouts.

  Once she’d made contact, and had satisfied herself he couldn’t care less how many children he might have spawned in his selfish need for gratification, she’d be able to carry out Terrie’s other wish.

  A wish that had become Catherine’s raison d’être.

  Evening had come to the Rubies, prompting Cole to turn on his headlights. The woman at the wheel in front of his power wagon drove at a fast clip, forcing him to concentrate while he made a couple of phone calls, the last one being to his brother.

  “John? Hold down the fort, will you? I’m on my way to Elko to take care of some important business.”

  “I saw you leave a little while ago. Anything I can do to help?”

  Cole’s thirty-two-year-old married brother was a rock he could always lean on in an emergency. They’d shared pretty much everything in life, but not this time. Not until Cole knew if their little brother had truly fathered a child.

  “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  He could hear the question John didn’t ask. That was what made him the good man he was.

  “When will you be back?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Fair enough. Brenda’s waiting for you. She’s going to be disappointed when I tell her business called you away.”

  Business, hell-

  Cole rubbed his jaw. Brenda was attractive, and he enjoyed her company, but that was all. Unfortunately she wanted more. This was as good a time as any to end it with her. She would have to under stand he needed his space to mourn Buck. If she didn’t, then he couldn’t do anything about it. Catherine Arnold’s bombshell had blown him from the path where he’d been letting his life drift. But no longer.

  “I’ll call her later.” He rang off, his thoughts already concentrated on the female who’d managed to get beneath his skin long before he’d learned her visit had anything to do with Buck.

  When she took the first turnoff, he sped ahead of her and drove on to the Midas Inn, located in the center of town. Pulling around the side to a private entrance, he jumped down from the cab to help her from the car she’d parked along side his truck.

  Her long, elegant legs distracted him as she got out of the car. “Is this where we’re meeting Buck?”

  “No.” With that one word he’d extinguished the hope in those fabulous blue eyes. “We need to talk. The Midas is one of the ranch owner’s investments,” he explained, aware of her questioning glance as he pulled her over night bag from the backseat. “I phoned ahead to arrange a room for you. If you made a reservation somewhere else, let me know and I’ll cancel it.”

  “It’s at the Ruby Inn.”

  “In your own name?”

  “Yes,” she answered tentatively. “Why do you ask?”

  “You come off sounding like you might be an attorney. If so, you could have made your reservation in the name of the firm you work for.”

  “I’m a social worker at a facility for young single mothers, but I’m not here in an official capacity. My reason for coming is strictly personal, if it’s any comfort.”

  It wasn’t.

  Buck had shown poor judgment in a lot of cases-but getting involved with an underage girl while he’d been working on their uncle’s stud farm outside Reno last summer?

  “Maybe that explains why you exhibit the instincts of a clever PI.”

  “Not that clever, apparently, but I’m not going to complain if it means you can lead me to Bonnie’s biological father.”

  He ushered her inside the building as far as the door of the manager’s office. “Follow this hallway to the front desk and give the night clerk your name. He’ll take care of you. After you’ve freshened up, meet me in here.”

  “Thank you.” She managed to get the words out before taking the bag from him. “I won’t be long.”

  “In that case I’ll ask the restaurant to bring us a sandwich.”

  Cole doubted he’d able to eat, but he preferred she didn’t suspect he felt like he’d been trampled in a wild mustang stampede no one had seen coming seconds before it happened.

  CHAPTER THREE

  TEN minutes later Catherine knocked on the manager’s door.

  “Come in.”

  Recognizing Cole’s deep voice, she walked inside the office. The sight of him standing behind the desk, in a beautiful white dress shirt with the sleeves pushed up his tanned arms to the elbows, rocked her to the foundations.

  Minus his tie and suit jacket-the outer trap pings of civilized society-his virility was even more in evidence.

  By comparison she knew she looked washed out. Other than pulling her hair back in a ponytail, she still wore the suit she’d arrived in. Until she saw the club sandwiches and sliced melon placed on the desk in front of him, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

  “Sit down, Catherine.”

  The use of her first name indicated progress. Despite their precarious beginning, she liked the sound of it on his lips. She liked the play of muscle across his shoulders and arms. Too much.

  Murmuring her assent, she pulled up a chair. Now that the fencing was over, they could get down to business.

  He pushed one of the plates toward her, no doubt recognizing the signs of someone who was starving. She reached for a sandwich half and began devouring it. Cole, on the other hand, drank cola from the can while he watched her through shuttered eyes.

  Anticipating her needs, he handed her a cola, which she grate fully accepted. She drank most of it before putting the can back on the desk.

  “Thank you. I needed that,” she exclaimed, glancing at the food he hadn’t touched. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “Later. For now I want to hear the details about Terrie and her relationship with Buck.” His probing gray eyes were like an assault on her senses. “When they first met-where-how long it lasted-how and when you came into the picture-”

  On the drive back to Elko she’d determined to tell him everything she kn
ew in the hope her candor would be rewarded.

  “A year ago this month Terrie ran away from her foster home in California. She had the help of another runaway. They stole money and a car. En route they ditched it and stole a van. Once they arrived in Reno, they changed the plates and lived out of it while they washed dishes for a local café called the One-Eyed Jack. On their breaks, they were given free meals.”

  His brows furrowed. “Resourceful girls.”

  “The street-smart ones are. They’d been there a month when this ‘hunky cowboy’-Terrie’s words-showed up and took an immediate interest in her. In fairness to him, she could make herself up to look closer to twenty. He could be excused for not knowing she was only seventeen. After she got off work he would take her dancing, spend money on her. He told her she was beautiful, which she was,” Catherine added in an unsteady voice. A brunette with hazel eyes…

  Bonnie had been born with a head of dark hair and a rosebud mouth. The sweetest, dearest little baby on earth.

  Clearing her throat, Catherine continued. “Soon Terrie was sleeping with him. She didn’t have the experience to realize it couldn’t last, let alone turn into anything permanent like a wedding ring on her finger. By September he was gone from her life without a trace, leaving her pregnant and ill with morning sickness. The café manager had to let her go, but she gave Terrie the name of a home run by private donations called Girls’ Haven.”

  “You’re the case worker there?” He sat back in the chair with his strong arms folded.

  “Yes. I’ve been working there for three years. Stories like Terrie’s are all too common. Her friend dropped her off in the van, then drove away. Terrie never saw her or Buck again.”

  “Did this Buck actually tell her he worked on the Bonnibelle?”

  “He didn’t tell her anything concrete about his life except that he was a cowboy. The night before he disappeared, someone came in the café looking for him while he was waiting for her to go off shift. She over heard this person tell Buck he’d better call the Bonnibelle on the double. Terrie went through her pregnancy assuming the other man had been referring to a woman Buck hadn’t told her about, and that’s why he’d abandoned her. It wasn’t until she was dying from an infection following the delivery that she broke down and told me about the incident. That’s when I told her Bonnibelle was the name of a famous ranch somewhere in Nevada.”