Now it was Nicole’s turn to frown. “What do you mean?”
“How do we know this is Tricia William’s signature? And who was this friend? Anyone could have put this together.”
Kip leaned forward and she couldn’t help glancing his way, catching a gleam in his eye.
“So you’re saying this isn’t as cut-and-dried as some people think?” Kip asked.
Hard not to miss the pleasure in his voice. Nicole fought back her concern. She had too much riding on this situation. Sam was expecting her to bring these boys back. It was what she had to do.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“So that makes things a bit easier,” Kip said with an obvious note of relief in his voice.
“We have our own lawyer working on this case,” Nicole added, just in case Kip thought she was simply rolling over. “We have copies of Tricia’s handwriting and photographs of the boys.”
“Birth certificates?” Ron asked, his chair creaking as he leaned forward, glancing over the will again.
Nicole had to say no. “Again, that’s something our lawyer, James Feschuk is working on.” Dropping James’s name, however, got no reaction.
“So things are still in limbo?” Kip asked. He tapped a booted foot on the carpet, as if he couldn’t wait to get out of there. Nicole wasn’t surprised.
He looked as if he was far more at home on the back of a horse than sitting in an office.
Which made her wonder why he wouldn’t let the boys on the horses. He seemed so unreasonably angry with her when she took them to the horse corrals.
And why did she care? The boys were leaving this life as soon as possible.
Ron tapped his fingers on the desk, shaking his head as if to negate everything Nicole had said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think anything can happen until we get all our questions answered.”
“Great.” Kip got to his feet. “Then we’ll wait.”
“Not so fast, Kip,” Ron continued. “The other reality is we can’t completely negate Ms. Williams’s claim on these boys. She does have some rights for now.”
Nicole’s frustration eased off. She had been ready to do battle with this small-town lawyer.
Kip had already grabbed his denim jacket but clutched it now, his grey eyes staying on Ron, ignoring Nicole. “What rights?”
“Visitation, for one,” Ron said.
Kip blew out a sigh and shoved his hands through his hair as he glared at his own lawyer. “How will that work?”
Time to take control. “I would like to visit the boys every day,” Nicole said.
Kip finally turned his attention to her. “Every day? For how long?”
“I think that’s something we can settle here and now,” Nicole said. “I was thinking I could come and pick up the boys and take them for a visit either morning or afternoon. Whichever is convenient.”
Kip made a show of looking at his watch, as if he was the only one in this room with a schedule to keep. Then he sat down and leaned back in his chair. “Okay, I’m thinking something else. I’m thinking you can see the boys every day, but the visits have to happen on the ranch and under my supervision.”
Nicole frowned at that. “Why?”
Kip held her gaze, his frown and piercing gaze giving him a slightly menacing air. “I only have your word that you are who you are, and until Ron is satisfied, I’m not letting Justin and Tristan out of my sight.”
His antagonism was like a wave and for the briefest moment, fear flashed through Nicole. He reminded her of a wolf, defending its pups.
Then she pushed her fear down.
“And how would these visits be apportioned?”
“I’m guessing you mean how much time and when?”
“Precisely.”
Kip raised an eyebrow and Nicole knew she was putting on her “office” voice. She couldn’t help it. She felt as if she needed the defense.
“You come from 2:30 until 5:00 every afternoon. That’s what works best for me.”
She bit back her anger. Two and a half hours? Was that what he considered a visit?
“Take it or leave it,” he added.
She didn’t have much choice. Right now she may hold a legal will, but until it was proven legitimate, he had the right of possession—if that was the correct way to term guardianship of the boys.
“Those terms are…fine with me,” she said, trying to sound reasonable. She wasn’t fighting him over this. Not yet. In the end, she knew she would be proven right, but in the meantime the boys were in his care and on his ranch and she could do nothing about that.
“So we should draw something up,” Ron said, pulling out a pen. “Just in case there are any repercussions.”
Fifteen minutes later, papers were printed up and signed and everyone given a copy.
Kip folded his over and shoved them in the back pocket of his jeans. She put hers in her briefcase.
“There is one more thing,” Nicole said quietly. “My father insists that we do a DNA test.”
“What?” The word fairly exploded out of Kip’s mouth. “What do you think this is? CSI Alberta?”
“It’s not that complex. There is a test that can be ordered, and I’ve checked into the locations of the clinics where they can be brought. We would require your mother to take a test and my father, given that the parents of the boys are dead.”
“Is this legal?” Kip asked his lawyer.
Ron leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against his chin. “Might not be a bad idea. It could bolster your case, Kip.”
More likely ours, Nicole thought.
Kip narrowed his eyes as he looked at Nicole, as if he didn’t trust her. “Okay. If you think it will help, Ron, I’ll get Mom to do it.”
“I’ll find out more about it and let you know what has to happen,” Ron said.
“So that’s settled.” Kip shrugged his jacket on and gave Nicole the briefest of nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Nicole gave him a crisp smile. “Actually, I’d like to come now.”
Kip faltered, his frown deepening. “As in today?”
“As in, I have just been granted visitation from 2:30 to 5:00 every afternoon.” Nicole gave him a cool look as she too got to her feet. She didn’t like him towering over her, but even in her heels, she only reached his shoulder.
“I thought we’d start tomorrow.”
“I have every right to start today.” She had signed a paper giving her those rights. He had no reason to deny her.
Kip blew out a sigh as he dropped a tattered cowboy hat on his head. “I don’t have time today.”
Nicole lifted her shoulder in a delicate shrug. “You’re the one who set out the terms of the visits.”
Kip held her gaze, his eyes shadowed by the brim of the cowboy hat. Then he glanced down at her tailored suit and laughed. “Okay, but you’d better change. The boys are helping me fix a tractor this afternoon.”
“Should I bring a hammer?” she said, determined not to let him goad her.
“Just a three-eighth-inch wrench and a five-sixteenth-inch socket,” he returned.
“Excellent. I just happened to bring mine along.”
“In your Louis Vuitton luggage?” This was tossed back at her underlined with the arching of one of his eyebrows.
“No. Coach.” And how would a cowboy like him know about Louis Vuitton?
“Cute.” He buttoned his jacket. “This has been fun, but I’ve got work to do,” he said in a tone that implied “fun” was the last thing he’d been having. “See you when we see you.”
When he closed the door behind him, it was as if the office deflated. Became less full, less dynamic.
Nicole brushed the feeling off and turned to Ron. “I’ll get my lawyer to call you. He’ll bring you up to speed on his side of the case, and the two of you can discuss the DNA tests.”
Ron got to his feet and pursed his lips. Then he sighed. “I’m not speaking as a lawyer anymore, but as a friend of Kip’s. You may as w
ell know that Kip Cosgrove dotes on those boys. He goes everywhere with them. Does everything with them. He has since those boys moved to the ranch with his brother.”
“They’re not even his.” As soon as Nicole spoke the words she regretted giving her thoughts voice. She knew how coldhearted that must have sounded to Ron.
The reality was she knew firsthand what it was like to be the one pushed aside. She had been in enough homes as the “outsider,” the nonbiological child, to know that no matter what, biology always won out. The “natural” children were always treated differently than the “foster” child.
Ron shot her an angry look. “That is the last thing on Kip’s mind,” he snapped. “Those boys have been in his life since they were one year old. Living on the ranch is the only life they know.”
Nicole held his angry gaze, determined not to let his opinion of her matter. “They only know this life because Scott took them away from their biological mother.” She picked up her briefcase and slung her trench coat over her arm. “Now all I need to know is where I can buy some tools.”
This netted her a puzzled look from Ron. “Why?”
“Because I fully intend on helping fix that tractor.”
Chapter Five
Kip pulled off his “town” shirt and tossed it onto his unmade bed. He grabbed the work shirt from the floor where he’d tossed it. He’d been in too much of a rush to clean up before he left for town.
He buttoned up his shirt as he headed down the stairs to where the boys were playing a board game at the kitchen table with his mom.
Isabelle stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes from lunch, her expression letting him know exactly what she thought of this chore.
“Oh, Gramma, you have to go down the snake,” Justin shouted, waving his arms in the air as if he had won the Stanley Cup.
“Oh dear, here I go,” Kip’s mother said, reaching across the board to do as Justin said. “This puts me way behind.”
Kip caught her grimace as she sat back in her wheelchair and wondered again how long it would be before his mother was mobile. Though the kitchen was still clean from Nicole’s visit on Saturday, he knew it was simply a matter of time before things slowly deteriorated.
“Isabelle, that laundry that got folded yesterday is still in the laundry basket upstairs,” Kip said.
“Yeah. I know.”
“So what should happen with it?”
Isabelle set a plate on the drying rack with agonizing slowness, punctuated her movement with a sigh, then shrugged. “I guess I should put it away.”
“I guess,” he reiterated.
“I think someone is here,” Tristan said, standing up on his chair.
Kip groaned. Probably Nicole. Well, she’d have to tag along with him. He had promised the boys they could help him fix the tractor. They weren’t much help, but they were slowly learning how to read wrench sizes and knew the difference between a Phillips and a flat screwdriver. Plus, it was a way to spend time with them.
“It’s Nicole,” Justin yelled, confirming what Kip suspected. “I’m going to go say hi.” He jumped off his chair, Tristan right behind him. The porch door slammed shut behind them, creating a momentary quiet in the home.
His mother turned in her wheelchair, wincing as she did so. “Now that the boys are gone, what did Ron tell you?”
Kip glanced out of the window. Nicole was barely out of her car and the boys were already grabbing her hands. Their hasty switch in allegiances bothered him in a way he didn’t want to scrutinize.
Isabelle stopped what she was doing and turned around, listening with avid interest.
“For now we have to allow her visits with the boys,” Kip said, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “He’s looking into how legitimate Tricia’s will is, but nothing has been settled And…” he hesitated, wondering what his mother would think of this new wrinkle. “She and her father insist on you taking a DNA test.”
His mother frowned. “Is that hard? Do I have to go to the hospital?”
“Apparently there’s a test for grandparents. You can order it and then bring the results to a couple of clinics not far away. It’s nothing to worry about. Just a formality so we can prove that Scott is as much a parent to the boys as Tricia was.”
Kip stopped there. Until Nicole brought the news she had, Kip hadn’t been able to think of Tricia without a surge of anger. She’d left her boys behind. But knowing she had been dead the past years changed a lot.
And raised a few more questions.
Kip brushed them aside. The boys were Scott’s. He knew it beyond a doubt. Scott wouldn’t have taken them with him back to the ranch if they weren’t.
“So Nicole is really the twins’ aunt too?” Isabelle asked.
“I think so.”
“Is she taking the boys?”
Kip shot Isabelle a warning glance. “No one is taking the boys anywhere. They belong here.”
His mother placed her hand on his arm. “But if she’s their aunt—”
Kip squeezed his mother’s hand in reassurance. “I won’t let it happen. I promised Scott I would keep the boys on the ranch, and I keep my promises.”
“You always have,” Mary Cosgrove said with a wan smile. “You’ve been a good son. I’m so thankful for you. I still hope and pray that you’ll find someone who sees past that gruff exterior of yours and sees you for who you really are.” She gave his hands a gentle shake. “Nancy Colbert didn’t know what she gave up when she broke up with you.”
Kip sighed. He didn’t want to think about his ex-girlfriend either. “Nancy was never cut out to be a rancher’s wife,” he said.
“I never liked that Nancy chick,” Isabelle added. “She reminded me of a snake.”
“Thanks for that, Izzy. Maybe those dishes could get done before the day is over.”
This piece of advice netted him an eye roll, but she turned back to the sink and plodded on.
“I still wonder, if you hadn’t agreed to take on the boys, if she would have stayed with you…” his mother’s voice trailed off, putting voice to the questions that had plagued Kip for the first two months after Scott had died.
“Scott begged me, Mom,” Kip reminded her. “He begged me to keep the boys on the ranch. I owed him. It was because of my horse—” he stopped himself there. He still couldn’t think of his brother’s death without guilt. He wondered if that would ever leave. “Besides, if Nancy had really loved me, she would have been willing to take on the boys as well as me.”
Mary nodded, but Kip could see a hint of sorrow in her assuring smile.
“I know you really liked her, but the reality is anyone who wants me will have to take the boys and the ranch as well—”
“And your mother and your little sister,” Mary added. She shook her head. “You took too much on when you took over the ranch after Dad died. You take too much on all the time.”
Kip gave her a quick hug. “I do it because I love you, and anything taken on in love isn’t a burden.” He heard the noise of the boys’ excited voices coming closer. “And now I’d better deal with Ms. Williams.”
He gently squeezed his mother’s shoulder, squared his own and went out the door.
Nicole was leading the boys up the walk, holding both boys’ hands. She looked up at him and Kip felt a jolt of surprise.
She had completely transformed. Gone was the suit, the tied-back hair, the high-heeled shoes. The uptight city woman had been transformed.
She wore blue jeans, a loose plaid shirt over a black T-shirt and cowboy boots. And she had let her hair down. It flowed over her shoulders in loose waves, softening her features.
Making her look more approachable and, even worse, more appealing.
He put a brake on his thoughts, blaming his distraction on his mother’s mention of his old girlfriend. Though he didn’t miss Nancy as much as he’d thought he would, there were times he missed having someone special in his life. Missed being a boyfriend. He’d always wanted a family of h
is own.
“Hello,” Nicole said, her voice as cool as it had been in Ron’s office.
He acknowledged her greeting with a curt nod. “Okay boys, let’s go work on that tractor.”
“Yippee.” Justin jumped up and down. “Let’s go, Tristan.”
Kip glanced at his other nephew who was staring up at Nicole, looking a little starstruck. “I want to play with the puppies,” Tristan said. “Can you play with the puppies with me?” he asked Nicole.
“I thought you wanted to help me,” Kip said to Tristan with a forced jocularity. Tristan was never as adventurous as Justin, but he always came along.
Tristan shook his head still looking up at Nicole. “I want to be with Auntie Nicole.”
Auntie Nicole? The words jarred him, and he stifled a shiver of premonition. She had already staked a claim on his boys.
“So do I,” Justin shouted out.
Nicole glanced from Kip to the boys. “Your Uncle Kip said I had to help him with the tractor.” She shot him an arch look. “Unless he was kidding.”
“Nope,” he said, deadpan. “Absolutely serious.”
“Then I’ll come,” Justin said, turning on his allegiances as quickly as he turned on his feet.
“What are those,” Nicole asked, as they walked past two of his wagons parked beside the barn. Grass had grown up a bit around them. He’d parked them there last fall and hadn’t touched them since.
“Chuck wagons.”
“What do you use them for?” Nicole asked.
“Uncle Kip used to race them,” Tristan said. “Before my daddy died.”
“Race them? How do you do that?”
“You don’t know?” Justin’s astonishment was a bit rude, but Kip didn’t feel like correcting him.
“I’m sorry. I do not.”
Kip wasn’t surprised. Chuck-wagon racing had originated in Calgary, and while it was an integral part of the Calgary Stampede, it wasn’t a regular event in all the rodeos scattered around North America. He’d grown up with it, though. His father and his uncle and his grandfather all competed in the chuck-wagon races. It was in his blood.
Cowboy Daddy Page 4
