by Barb Han
Emotions torpedoed through her so fast that she didn’t have time to process them. Aubrey was stirring and she didn’t want her little girl to pick up the tension in her mother when Wyatt spoke.
Before she could agree or argue, he disappeared. He was probably trying to help, but she didn’t need someone walking into her life and taking over. She could think for herself and he needed to see that she’d been fine on her own and especially if the two of them could end up in a courtroom someday.
They could talk in the morning when she had a better perspective and time to gather her thoughts. Meg never fared well when she was caught off guard. She needed to mull things over because all her best decisions came out of respecting her need for time to process information.
As Wyatt walked away she turned to the deputy. “Can you take us home?”
He hesitated and then nodded before leading them out the back and to his SUV. Meg buckled up and held on to Aubrey.
Stephanie flashed eyes at Meg and asked under her breath, “What are you doing?”
“Taking my daughter home,” she said plainly.
“What about him?” Stephanie motioned toward the truck that was now behind them.
“Aubrey comes first. She needs to eat, and both he and I need a minute to cool down. There’s been a lot thrown at both of us today and we need time to process everything before we make an attempt to figure this out,” she said.
“Does that mean he’s planning to stick around?” Stephanie’s brow went up.
“I have no idea what his plans are. He accused me of trying to use Aubrey to get at the Butler fortune.” The accusation still stung and she hadn’t had time to process the fact that he was a Butler.
“What does he have to do with the Butlers?” Stephanie didn’t hesitate.
“Turns out he’s one of them but he didn’t seem happy about it,” Meg said. A self-made man like Wyatt wouldn’t care about the money. The family had been through a lot of trauma since Mr. Butler’s murder. The eldest Butler, a female, had been attacked. Another person, Madelyn Kensington, had been summoned to town by the family lawyer in order to be told Mike Butler was her father. A jealous ex had followed Madelyn and nearly killed her. And one of the Butler twins, Dade, had gotten involved with a local woman who barely survived a stalker.
“That family has certainly had their troubles. But he couldn’t have meant what he said to you,” Stephanie said.
“What makes you so sure?”
“Did you see the way he looks at you?”
Her friend was hallucinating if she thought Wyatt had any feelings left for Meg. He’d been clear about enjoying his single life before. Heck, the times she’d slept over at his place she realized he didn’t even have two coffee mugs. What person didn’t have two coffee mugs? One could be dirty. Meg didn’t have the energy to analyze it again. The message had been clear. Wyatt preferred the number one.
The realization had been a good wake-up call for Meg because she’d been starting down a slippery slope of developing actual feelings for the cowboy-turned-restaurant-mogul. What a disaster that would’ve been.
“I wish someone looked at me like that,” Stephanie said under her breath.
Yeah? Wyatt’s steel eyes had been serious, intense. Stephanie was probably misreading the situation.
Aubrey yawned before starting to fuss. Meg repositioned her daughter and spoke in a soothing tone.
The deputy pulled onto the parking pad and Meg thanked him for the ride.
Aubrey fussed and fidgeted as Meg climbed out of the back seat. “Will you deal with him? I need to take care of her. She’s hungry and I’m exhausted.”
“I’ll take care of the cowboy,” Stephanie said, and Meg’s heart squeezed. Would Wyatt be attracted to Stephanie? She was beautiful. Was Meg seriously jealous of her best—Meg couldn’t bring herself to say only, but it was true—friend? “Besides, we need to get the cars home. We left them at work, remember?”
“Yes. Right. Thanks.” Seeing Wyatt again was throwing Meg for a loop. She buried those unproductive thoughts and darted inside the house before Wyatt could catch up to her.
Inside, she made a beeline for the kitchen to prepare a bottle, which was difficult while trying to soothe a crying baby. Meg had more experience than she cared to think about, and a rogue thought had her wishing for a partner to help. Not just a partner, her mind protested—the child’s father. Wow, her thoughts were careening out of control.
Aubrey belted out a cry that made Meg’s heart fist.
“You’re okay,” she soothed, gently bouncing up and down while finagling the formula and the bottle. She couldn’t breastfeed and feared that was one hit in what would be a long line of disappointments for her daughter.
Meg also noted that in seeing the cowboy, as Stephanie had called him, again that she longed for ridiculous things like a family and a home. What would she want next? A minivan? A dog?
Where would that leave all the families who depended on her? And where would that leave her heart when the fairy tale didn’t come true?
If her own mother could walk out on her and not look back, why would anyone else stick around?
* * *
“I HAVE A right to see Meg and her baby,” Wyatt insisted. He already realized convincing Meg’s friend to let him inside the house was a losing battle and he should walk away, give the situation some breathing room. He could admit to being part bull when he decided to dig his heels in. His were firmly ground this time.
“I’m really sorry. She needs time,” Stephanie said.
Arguing wasn’t going to do any good, but Wyatt almost laughed out loud at the thought Meg needed time. “How much? Another year?” There was more anger and frustration in his tone than he’d intended.
Stephanie shrugged.
“She’s already had...what?...nine months, plus the baby is how old? How much more time does she need,” he countered, clinging to his sinking ship. Wyatt didn’t normally lose his cool. He’d built a million-dollar chain of taco stands because of his ability to make good decisions under pressure. As much as he tried to convince himself this was no different, he failed.
Another helpless shrug came from Stephanie.
The timer he’d set on his phone beeped. If he didn’t get going he’d miss his meeting with the Butler family. He was tempted to walk away from all of this, from all of Cattle Barge, and never look back. Hell, he had enough on his plate as it was with the expansion of his taco chain. His intention in Cattle Barge had been simple. Put to rest once and for all the fact that he wanted nothing to do with being a Butler, and maybe have a little hot sex with an old flame. Okay, since he was baring his soul, he wanted to have a lot of hot sex with the woman he couldn’t seem to keep out of his thoughts in the past year. But that was about as realistic as getting water from a rock. Or, in this case, walking inside that house.
Seeing Meg hold a baby—potentially his baby—should’ve been a bucket of ice water on the fire between them. Should’ve been. He was scratching his head as to why that didn’t seem to be the case.
“She has my cell. If I don’t hear from her in the next few hours I’m coming back and I’m walking inside that door,” he warned.
“Understood.” Stephanie’s hands came up, palms out, in the surrender position. “Like I said before I’m sorry for my friend. I think we’ve all had a rough morning and need a little time to calm down and sort this mess out.”
Since pressuring Stephanie for answers was as smart and productive as firing the guy who runs the cash register because the girl on the line messed up, he decided to cut his losses.
“Fine. I’ll be back,” he said, realizing it came off more as a threat than a promise.
Wyatt stalked to his truck and took his seat, white-knuckling the steering wheel.
Next up?
Deal with the Butlers.
&nbs
p; Wyatt would thank Stephanie for her help when he returned. After all, it wasn’t her fault he was in this predicament, and he didn’t need to take his frustration out on her. He could’ve done a better job handling his emotions when talking to Meg. There were a few words he’d take back if he could in hindsight.
In his defense, this situation was emotionally charged without the attempted kidnapping. This also made him wonder if Meg and her baby were safe. He scanned the area. There weren’t many houses on this stretch of farm road. He’d been grateful for his truck, given the drive in. Stretches of road needed maintenance. Maybe he could convince Meg to move closer to town when she was thinking straight again. Being closer to supplies and conveniences would be better for her and the baby.
Whoa. Where’d all that come from?
Where Meg chose to live with her daughter was her business. The little girl in the house had gotten to him. He could admit it. Even though he still wasn’t ready to believe she was his child, she seemed like a good baby. A sweet helpless little thing. She’d done nothing to provoke a criminal to rip her out of Stephanie’s arms. Something had been bugging him since leaving the sheriff’s office. The sheriff seemed intent on Meg, but the baby had been taken from Stephanie. What was going on with Sawmill?
If the attempt was related to the kind of work she did—and that was a logical possibility—why not take the baby from Meg, instead? Or had the person been targeting Stephanie? Considering Meg and Stephanie lived under the same roof, it was at least possible that a person could mistake the baby as Stephanie’s. Right?
Heck, the two lived and worked together so the person could be targeting either of them, based on the work they did.
A rogue thought struck him harder than a sucker punch. Did someone know the baby might be a Butler? Who inside Meg’s circle knew about their circumstances? There were a lot of unanswered questions and he was frustrated that his access to Meg was being blocked.
She was trying to protect her daughter, a voice in the back of his mind reminded. He’d seen that fierce look of determination in her eyes, the fire. Justly so. Her daughter was innocent in all this and couldn’t exactly fight for herself.
Anger brewed under the surface as he thought about the kind of jerk who abducted little babies. Thinking about how helpless an infant was got all his protective instincts flaring. That’s probably what was bugging him the most about this situation and not that he gave any credence to the fact that the little bean shared his DNA.
Until he had definitive proof he wouldn’t put too much stock in the idea. Keeping a cool head when everyone else overreacted was another one of his core strengths. He’d call on every skill that had made him the successful man he was today in order to help Meg and her baby while keeping the situation in perspective.
Since patience wasn’t one of those skills, he used Bluetooth to call the number on the for-rent sign he’d memorized next door to Meg’s place.
Chapter Five
Wyatt leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees while waiting for the rest of the Butlers to arrive. He balled one of his hands and gripped it with the other. His thoughts kept drifting toward Meg, her child and the attempted abduction.
An unsettled feeling had gripped him since visiting the sheriff’s office and he felt oddly off balance.
Every attempt to bring his thoughts to the present pushed him onto an endless loop. Meg. Baby. Butlers.
He hoped like hell the three weren’t connected but couldn’t ignore the possibility. Would someone abduct the little girl and then demand ransom?
As much as he’d tried not to care about the Butler family’s personal business, they’d been all over the news lately. Living in Texas, he couldn’t escape hearing about them or Maverick Mike since his death.
Driving up to the ranch, he was conflicted. He didn’t want to like the place. The main building looked like an oversize log cabin. It had a high-end Western-resort feel. And, dammit, he did like it.
A housekeeper led him a short walk down a hall to the dining room. He took a seat, waiting for the rest of the bunch to arrive.
The Solo cup filled with the dark brew he’d picked up on his way over sat on the table. The room itself was decorated to the nines. A long table sat dead center in the room. It looked like one of those hand-carved jobs. A family photo covered the back wall. In the picture, everyone wore jeans and white shirts. They looked to be out on the front lawn. Maverick Mike was in the center and his children flanked his sides. They were younger, maybe early teens, and their father wore a collared shirt along with a white Stetson.
If Wyatt had his druthers, he would be in non-Butler territory for this meeting, a neutral location like the restaurant from lunch. Was that really only seven hours ago? A world of change had happened since then.
“There was something on the news about an attempted kidnapping at the tree-lighting ceremony,” the Butler female he recognized as Ella said as she entered the room.
Wyatt stood as twins Dade and Dalton strolled in behind her. Neither commented about this being the first crime in months that didn’t have to do with a Butler, so he didn’t mention the possibility even though it hovered in a dark corner of his mind.
“I’m Ella,” she said to Wyatt as she offered a handshake. Her voice was unreadable, although he’d fully expected a chilly greeting.
He took the offering.
The twins introduced themselves next. They were tall, around Wyatt’s height, and he couldn’t ignore the fact they shared the same steel eyes and nose as him. Another female entered. She introduced herself as Madelyn Kensington—but he figured she should say Butler—as she took the seat next to his. Solidarity?
Spare him.
Had the seating been arranged on purpose, putting the other bastard Butler next to him in order to make him feel a sense of kinship? Put the two outsiders together so they could form a bond. No, thanks.
Wyatt positioned his body toward Ella, who was chatting easily with her newfound sister. Wasn’t that cozy?
One of the twins acknowledged Wyatt with a sharp nod. Anger. That was more Wyatt’s speed.
The family lawyer walked in, taking a seat on the other side of Wyatt. Cozy.
“Thank you for coming today,” Ed Staples said after a formal introduction.
“You already know I’m only here because you summoned me,” Wyatt informed the group as he looked toward the lawyer.
A few exchanged glances.
“Mr. Jackson has made his position clear,” Ed reiterated to the group. “It took some convincing to get him to show today.”
“I’d appreciate getting down to the reason for this meeting,” Wyatt said to Ed.
“We’re waiting for one more person,” Ed responded.
Wyatt glanced around. How many more Butlers did they need to have a meeting? As it was, he felt surrounded by them, and an unfamiliar feeling of claustrophobia edged its way in. His chest started feeling tight and oxygen was in short supply.
He checked the time on the screen of his cell phone, chalking up part of his reaction to being away from Meg and not knowing if everything was okay on her end. “With all due respect, I have other business.”
“I’ll get my sister.” Ella flashed her eyes at him. “Our sister, Cadence, on the phone.”
“I’m an only child,” Wyatt said through clenched teeth. He was ready for an argument, but none came. In fact, he was pretty damn sure one of the twins had just winked at the newest member of the Butler clan, Madelyn. Ignoring the protests rising up in his chest, he palmed his phone and checked his in-box. There were 1,256 emails. His email had blown up overnight. He used his thumb to scroll through the names, swirling around in his chair until his back was to the dinner table.
Wyatt had arguably one of the best poker faces in Texas, but his emotions were in high gear with the whole him-maybe-being-someone’s-father
bomb that had been dropped in the last twelve hours. He was distracted. His mind wasn’t on business or the Butlers, and especially not this meeting.
Being here was a bad idea.
He skimmed a few key emails. Construction on the new location where they’d just broken ground had been stopped by the city. Crews had been sent home, and without the proper permits a nice chunk of money that Wyatt had already spent would be for nothing. Granted, he didn’t need the cash. But if he couldn’t get this project off the ground a lot of jobs would be compromised and people would be out of work. He’d already hired most of the staff for the new taco restaurant and they were training in Houston so they could get up and running on day one, which was supposed to happen in seven weeks. What was he supposed to tell them? They no longer had jobs because the city changed its mind?
This location had been strategically chosen because the rubber plant that had given half the town jobs was closing down. Wyatt believed in creating jobs in small communities so families could stay intact and small dots on the map where people had lived for generations wouldn’t end up ghost towns in a few years when all the young people had to move to a bigger city for work. He and his mother had moved around a lot before settling in Austin where she waited tables. During his childhood, they’d always returned to a lake house near Bay. He was never sure how his mother had pulled it off, but every year no matter how difficult their circumstances were they’d spent a week there during the summer.
There was something extra special about Bay, Texas. Bringing his successful business there to give reasonable-paying jobs to people—unlike when his mother worked for the rubber plant—meant more than it should. He knew better than to mix business with emotion, and now it was coming back to bite him. And especially since he’d decided to look into buying the place where he and his mother had built so many happy memories.
A better business location would be to stay southwest, where he already had friendly politicians who appreciated him bringing work to their constituents.
