The Rodeo Star's Return (Sapphire Springs Book 1)

by Angie Campbell

  “If you met her in a bar, and from what it sounds like, that was the only time you saw her, how can you be sure that’s your baby?”

  “She looks just like Taylor did when she was this age,” Lena huffed stubbornly. “Look at her.”

  “Lena, I just want him to be sure, that’s all. I don’t want any nasty surprises when she’s older. Like someone showing up at the door, claiming they’re her father.”

  “Fine,” she snapped before turning to Tyler. “Please, continue.” After a second thought, she added, “But later, we’re going to discuss your alcohol consumption.”

  He gave her a dubious look, then continued. “Before she drove off she told me, she has my birthmark on her butt,” Tyler sighed. “We were just getting ready to check for it when you came in.” He was starting to feel really nervous. He just wasn’t sure why. All he was sure of, was he was not going to send the little angel back to that hateful woman. She was definitely one he would never have gotten involved with if he hadn’t been drunk.

  “Well, that’s easy enough to check.” George swallowed and looked to his wife. “Lena, you want to take care of that?” he asked, looking a little nervous himself.

  “Yeah, sure thing,” she said, sitting the car seat in the floor beside the table. “Tyler, lay that blanket on the table for me to lay her on.”

  He did as she asked, and she immediately laid the baby down and pulled her little pants off. She quickly unfastened the diaper. Then she picked her up and laid her against her shoulder, keeping the diaper in place. “When I flip the diaper down, you check to see if you can see the birthmark,” she said, looking Tyler in the eyes. He could tell by the emotions swimming in her eyes, she was nervous, too. And she would be devastated if the mark wasn’t there.

  Tyler nodded his head in agreement and waited for the moment of truth. When his mom flipped the diaper down, he just grinned, the relief rushing through his body.

  “Well?” his mom asked, giving him an anxious look.

  “It’s there. Same exact spot as mine.”

  “Oh, thank you, Jesus,” she breathed. “I’m already too attached, and she’s not even been here a full day yet.”

  “Mom, she’s not even been here a full hour, yet,” Tyler chuckled.

  “You may want to go ahead and have a DNA test done, but that birthmark is enough for me. I’m convinced.”

  “You never did tell us what her name is,” his mom stated, laying her back down to refasten her diaper and put her little pants back on her.

  Tyler sit the diaper bag down on the table and unzipped it. “She told me her birth certificate is in here somewhere.” He dug around in the bag for a few seconds, finally pulling the paper out of its depths. He unfolded it and looked down, finally reading, “Montana Skye Wentworth.”

  “She was so certain, she gave her your last name?” his dad asked with surprise.

  “Apparently so.”

  “Well, if I was you, I’d go to a lawyer and make sure she can’t come back and try to take her back. She might decide she wants money.”

  “I don’t think she’ll try anything. She was more interested in getting rid of this little angel. She nearly left a fire trail leaving the parking lot.”

  “Even so, I’d cover all my bases if I were you.”

  “Don’t worry. I plan to.”

  “Let’s just hope Lucy’s okay with a readymade family,” his mother said in contemplation.

  “What?” Tyler asked in confusion.

  “Oh, nothing to worry about. I was just thinking she would make a good stepmom.”

  “Yeah, she would, wouldn’t she,” Tyler agreed softly.

  Chapter 6 – Saturday, May 4

  Tyler walked through the antique swinging, saloon doors of the Townsend kitchen. One of the younger children had let him in and pointed him in this direction, saying he could find Zane in here. They were having chili for lunch, and it was one of the few things Jamie could get him to help with. Apparently, he was nearly as good a cook as his mother, but it was usually pretty hard to get him to stay in the kitchen long enough to really help out.

  “Hey, Zane.”

  “Hey, yourself, Ty,” he answered without turning. “I didn’t know you were coming over today.”

  “Well, this was spur of the moment. I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”

  “Yeah, sure thing,” Zane answered, finally turning around, a look of surprise crossing his face. “Wow, where’d the baby come from? Need me to babysit for you?” He walked over and took the little girl out of his arms and kissed her on top of her head. “Hello, Little Darlin’. What’s your name?”

  Tyler shook his head with a smile. “Her name is Montana Skye Wentworth,” Tyler said with a sigh of frustration.

  “Are you okay? Your smile says one thing. Your sigh says another.”

  “Yes and no,” he answered, pulling out a chair to sit at the table.

  Zane shook his head, still feeling a little confused. “You said Wentworth? Any relation?”

  “Yeah, she’s my daughter,” he said with a big grin. “At least that’s what I’m told.”

  “Okay, I think I understand why you’re smiling, but what do you mean, what you’re told?”

  “It’s kind of a long story,” he huffed.

  “Well, I think I’m starting to understand the sigh,” he grinned. “Can you give me the shorter version?”

  “I’ll try,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “This woman showed up two days ago and dumped her in my arms. She said she’s mine.”

  “She kind of reminds me of your sister,” Zane chuckled when she grabbed his nose. “Maybe it’s the big blue eyes and the smile,” he cooed.

  “Oh, gee. I’ve lost you to the baby,” he laughed.

  “I’m listening,” he laughed back. “Continue.”

  “I honestly don’t remember the woman beyond meeting her in a bar, but Montana has my birthmark.”

  “What birthmark? Can you show me?”

  “Never mind,” he frowned. “I’m not showing you that. It’s on my butt.”

  He scrunched up his nose and snarled back. “I’m not asking to see your butt. Show me on the baby,” he said, starting to hand her back to her father.

  He shook his head. “It’s on her butt. Do you think we could wait for a better time? Everyone will be coming in her to eat soon.”

  “Sure,” he answered, laying the baby back against his shoulder when she yawned and her eyes drooped closed. “Someone needs a nap.”

  “You’re very good at that. Why don’t you get married and have a few?”

  Zane and his mom, who had just entered through the swinging doors, answered at the same time.

  “You know the answer to that question already,” Zane grouched, furrowing his brow.

  “I’ve been asking him that for a while, now,” his mom said with a smirk.

  “Mom, don’t start.”

  Jamie just grinned and picked the baby up out of his arms. “This little gal must be Lena’s little granddaughter she’s been telling me about.”

  “Hey, I almost had her asleep,” Zane huffed.

  “Oh, don’t whine,” she snorted, smacking him on the shoulder. “I’m going to go show her off to your father.”

  “Don’t do that. I’ll never get her back. You know how dad is with babies.”

  “Of course. I am married to the man,” she laughed. “He’s almost as bad as you. Keep an eye on the chili,” she said, heading back to the living room.

  “You realize, it could be midnight before you get her back, right?” Zane asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Tyler just chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve heard how much your dad wants a bunch of grandchildren. Sounds like your mom does to.”

  “Yeah, but she’s not quite as bad,” Zane answered with a nod. “Back to the topic at hand. What’s the chances this birthmark means she’s your kid?”

  “It’s kind of an unusual birthmark. My dad calls it the Wentworth birthmark.
When he seen her bottom, he said there was no way she wasn’t a Wentworth.”

  “What does this somewhat famous birthmark look like?”

  “Well, believe it or not, a W. A somewhat sloppy W, but a W none the less.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. It’s kind of a dark pinkish color. Like a strawberry birthmark would be,” he continued with a chuckle at Zane’s expression. “We all have it, and they’re all in the same exact spot. Dad says they’re all carbon copies of the original. There’s this really unlikely legend about the original one, but don’t ask. If you want to hear it, you’ll have to ask Dad. He explains it much better.”

  “I’ll have to remember that,” Zane chuckled. “So, who wore the original?”

  “I couldn’t tell you, but I do know Montana’s is identical to mine.”

  Zane chuckled again, and sat down to look at him. “Okay. What did you want to talk to me about? Or was that it?” he asked, gesturing toward the living room.

  “It’s related. I need to know how to go about finding her mother.”

  “You said the woman dumped her on you, right?”

  “Yeah, like a sack of dirty laundry. Then she high-tailed it out of town like she was being chased by the mob.”

  “And you seriously want to give that little angel back to her,” Zane asked, sounding offended at the notion. “She doesn’t sound like much of a mother.”

  “She’s not,” Tyler agreed. “And no. I want her to sign over her parental rights. My name is on the birth certificate. If there’s even a slim chance she’s mine, I’m not giving her up. Besides, my mother would kill me at this point if I tried to give her back to that woman.”

  “I wouldn’t arrest her for it, either.”

  Tyler furrowed his brow, and snorted. “Glad to see you’re on my side,” he replied dryly.

  “I’m on Montana’s side.”

  “I can work with that.”

  “Do you have any idea why she named that angel after a state?”

  Tyler shrugged. “I met her in a bar in Montana,” he said, thoughtfully. “She was also born in a Montana hospital.”

  “Well, the way she turned her over to you, I don’t figure she put much thought into naming her.”

  “No doubt. It could have probably been worse.”

  “Yeah. Have you thought about having a DNA test done?”

  “Yeah,” he shrugged. “But I’m not sure I really care.”

  “Well, whatever you decided to do, you’re going to have to get a lawyer.”

  “That’s what I figured, but what about finding her?”

  “Just give Jeb Henry what information you have. He’ll find her for you. Show him the birth certificate.”

  “I’m taking that to mean, he’s who you recommend I go to for all this,” Tyler said, waving his hand in the air.

  “Yeah, for this, he’s the best you’ll find in this area,” he said standing to his feet. “He’s not from around here. He moved down from somewhere up north.”

  “Somewhere up north?”

  “Yeah, I’m just not sure from where up north. But he’s good at what he does.”

  “I’ll have to trust your opinion.”

  “He’ll help you take care of everything. He’s not one of those lawyers that automatically backs the mother. He’ll do what’s best for Montana,” Zane grinned, slapping him on the back. “Come on. Help me get lunch ready.”

  Tyler raised an eyebrow at him and asked rather dryly, “You do remember, I can’t cook, right?”

  “Yeah, but there’s plenty other stuff that needs to be done. You can leave the tough stuff to me,” Zane chuckled.

  Chapter 7 – Thursday, May 9

  Tyler entered the law office of Jebediah Henry and grinned at the girl standing by the front desk. Her clothes were completely at odds with the office setting. She was dressed in blue jeans with scuffed cowboy boots and an old rock t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was chewing bubble gum. She was looking at a file in her hand, and didn’t immediately acknowledge his presence.

  “Well, hello, Mary Jo Puttman,” he said, watching her turn and put the file a way in a cabinet behind her. “How long have you been working here?” he asked, showing a bit of surprise.

  She grinned looking up at him. “Since Mr. Henry opened his office two years ago. How are you doing?” she replied, snapping her gum.

  He shrugged. “Things could be worse.”

  She nodded. “They could probably be better, as well.”

  “Why would you say that?” he chuckled.

  “This is a law office, after all,” she quipped, snapping her gum again.

  “You have a valid point, but hopefully Mr. Henry can help me settle matters without too much of a struggle.”

  “I’m more than sure he can help,” she grinned.

  “Can I ask you something?” he asked, sounding serious.

  She plopped down in the chair behind her desk and propped her boots up. “All questions cost a minimum of one dollar. Serious questions are a buck fifty.”

  “Same old Mary Jo.”

  “Who did you want? Sarah Ann?” she enquired dryly.

  “I guess not,” he chuckled. “How is your sister, by the way?”

  “She’s doing good. She’s in her fourth year of college.”

  “Is she still planning on being a doctor?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s good,” he said. “Seriously though, one question.”

  “Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll give you one for free, since I haven’t seen you in eight years. What do you want to know?”

  “How do you get away with dressing like that, working here?” he asked, sounding completely awed.

  “Well, he tried to tell me to dress more suitably once,” she smirked. “I told him he could either deal with my casual attire at the office, or fire me.”

  He shook his head and chuckled. “What did he say to that?”

  She grinned. “He fired me.”

  “He did?”

  “Yep. Two days later he called me back, nearly in tears. The man’s brilliant as a lawyer. He sucks as a receptionist. This place was a complete mess when I walked back in here. It took me all afternoon to get it back in order.”

  “I bet.”

  “He should be back from lunch any minute. He knows he has an appointment with you at one. And the man is never late,” she snorted with a roll of her eyes.

  He raised an eyebrow at her, and replied, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Oh, it’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

  “Oh?”

  “Oh, come on,” she huffed. “I’m sure you’ve been late a few times in your life.”

  “Yeah,” he shrugged. “Most people have.”

  “That’s my point. It’s one thing to be a punctual person. But never being late is inhuman.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s been late at least once in his life.”

  “Not in the two years I’ve known him. And he swears in his entire life before. He says his father would have killed him.”

  “That just seems very unlikely.”

  “Just wait. You haven’t met him yet.” She gave him a very serious look. “But don’t get me wrong. He’s a great guy. Just don’t tell him I said so.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head again. “I promise, I won’t say a word.”

  “He’s just a bit of a stiff shirt, that’s all. He just needs to relax a little.”

  “And you’re just the person to help him do that, aren’t you?” he grinned.

  “You bet,” she grinned back.

  “The man has no idea who he’s up against, does he?”

  She shook her head. “Not a clue.”

  “I take it, he’s not originally from around here.”

  “What gives you that idea?”

  “Mary Jo, people from neighboring towns know to be wary of you.”

  “Oh, come on. I’m not that bad.”

  “Wel
l, to my knowledge, you’ve never caused anyone physical harm,” he conceded, but only a little. “Just mental anguish.”

  “Fine,” she grinned. “You win. He’s only been from around here for the last two years. He moved down from New York, New York.”

  “The big apple, huh? Now that I think about it, Zane did say he was from somewhere up north,” he said, turning to lean against the desk. “Why would a New York lawyer want to move to Sapphire Springs, Missouri?”

  “His father owns a big law firm up there. He didn’t want to take over the reins. He told him to give it to his sisters and came down here.”

  “That sounds rather intense.”

  “I’ve met his father,” she grimaced. “Intense is putting it mildly.”

  “When Zane told me about him, I pictured a gray-haired man, probably in his fifties. That was wrong, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, by about twenty years. He’s probably thirty-six, at most.”

  “Well, Zane seemed to think he was good at his job. That’s all that really matters.”

  “Oh, he’s good, alright. You won’t find anyone better for a hundred miles in any direction. Probably farther,” she said with a grin, just before she snapped her gum again. “Unless it was Matt Sanders. But Matt usually let’s Mr. Henry handle this stuff. He usually does divorce. They’ve been known to work together, when the situation calls for it.”

  “Mary Jo, how many times do I have to tell you, don’t chew that stuff while you’re on the clock.”

  Tyler turned to see a man in his early to mid-thirties, standing there, his dark hair only sprinkled with gray. He had a frown on his face, his brown eyes showing irritation. He stood maybe three or four inches taller than Tyler’s five feet ten inches, and was built wide, but lean. Probably from a regular workout routine.

  “At least once more,” she retorted with another snap. “Mr. Henry, this is Tyler Wentworth. He’s your one o’clock. He needs to see you about tracking down the mother of his daughter, and having her sign over her parental rights.”