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Rancher's Baby
Anne Marie Winston
Table of Contents
Cover Page (#ufea67a49-193c-522f-82c9-89afa0a5a00a)
Excerpt (#u18c59955-7e49-585a-bc36-2851b95d2eb1)
Dear Reader (#u7cdb1b66-43df-5502-ad5f-859c4d5ba5fc)
Title Page (#u906fcd25-5d22-5e9f-b081-8f054fe66ad6)
About the Author (#u58e70c31-05be-5657-b4b5-1d59c3192092)
Dedication (#u7315cf09-f1a5-5912-bb1c-605b314827f1)
One (#u85c23516-786c-5741-b79f-066fae3aa4fc)
Two (#u5d1cbc71-93dc-591c-b496-bcc5527821f5)
Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Dulcie Had Been Imagining Tye’s Body For Ten Long Months—
to have it thrown in her face first thing in the morning was simply too much.
He was oblivious to her presence in the doorway. He was talking to her baby, and she didn’t miss the rapt look on Ryan’s face at the sound of his father’s voice.
Deep inside her, a feeling of helplessness rose. Ryan had been hers alone for almost a year. Now everything was going to have to change….
Tye wanted—no, expected—her to marry him. He had to be crazy! They barely knew each other.
But a vivid image of just how well they did know each other arose in her mind….
Dear Reader,
This month, we begin HOLIDAY HONEYMOONS, a wonderful new cross-line continuity series written by two of your favorites—Merline Lovelace and Carole Buck. The series begins in October with Merline’s Halloween Honeymoon. Then, once a month right through February, look for holiday love stories by Merline and Carole—in Desire for November, Intimate Moments for December. back to Desire in January and concluding in Intimate Moments for Valentine’s Day. Sound confusing? It’s not—we’ll keep you posted as the series continues.and I personally guarantee that these books are keepers!
And there are other goodies in store for you. Don’t miss the fun as Cathie Linz’s delightful series THREE WEDDINGS AND A GIFT continues with Seducing Hunter. And Lass Small’s MAN OF THE MONTH, The Texas Blue Norther, is simply scrumptious.
Those of you who want an ultrasensuous love story need look no further than The Sex Test by Patty Salier. She’s part of our WOMEN TO WATCH program highlighting brand-new writers. Warning: this book is HOT!
Readers who can’t get enough of cowboys shouldn’t miss Anne Marie Winston’s Rancher’s Baby. And if you’re partial to a classic amnesia story (as I certainly am!), be sure to read Barbara McCauley’s delectable Midnight Bride.
And, as always, I’m here to listen to you—so don’t be afraid to write and tell me your thoughts about Desire!
Until next month,
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
Rancher’s Baby
Anne Marie Winston
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ANNE MARIE WINSTON
A native Pennsylvanian and former educator, Anne Marie is a book lover, an animal lover and always a teacher at heart. She and her husband have two daughters and a menagerie of four-footed family members. When she’s not parenting, writing or reading, she devotes her time to a variety of educational efforts in her community. Readers can write to Anne Marie at P.O. Box 302, Zullinger, PA 17272.
For Elise—
With XOXO & lotsa love to my small
but mighty Lisabetty belle
One (#ulink_c6f9d5e8-b8c0-544e-b037-84e277fc77b6)
Tye Bradshaw squinted into the sun as the driver turned the four-wheel-drive pick-up truck off the highway. His head felt as if someone were playing a very large kettle drum just behind his eyes, and his broken finger throbbed.
The rancher who had offered to drop him off at the ranch maneuvered the truck between two stone pillars. They supported a black iron arch with a sign that proclaimed, Red Arrow Ranch, though for the life of him, Tye couldn’t see anything that looked vaguely like a house or a barn. As the truck followed an unpaved road that bisected a large, flat plain of scrub and dusty earth, all Tye could see were cattle in the distance, their outlines wavering in the heat of the day.
So this was the Kincaid spread. This was where he would find Dulcie.
Ever since the single night they’d shared, he’d been unable to forget her. His mood darkened as he recalled the way she’d skedaddled out of his apartment in the morning, mortified at herself and too embarrassed to look him in the eye. He’d intended to go after her, but then the phone rang…and here he was, almost a year later, hoping she would accept a belated apology.
His thoughts were shaken right out of his head when the truck lumbered over a particularly big rut and bounced up, down and up again with an agonizing jolt. He gritted his teeth against the pain and let the rancher’s off-key humming fill the silence until finally they crested a small rise. The Kincaid ranch buildings were spread out before them.
Despite his pain and discomfort, anticipation rose within him. Dulcie was here, probably in the big house that sat off to one side of the barns and corrals. The Good Samaritan drove right up to the yard that fronted the house. A black-and-white dog that looked like a cross between a border collie and a shepherd exploded from under the front porch, barking furiously just as the front door opened.
“Corky, go lie down!” A woman with long, loose dark hair streaming down her back came down the steps. The dog retreated to his hideout with a last snarl, but Tye hardly noticed.
Dulcie. His eyes took in every detail of her appearance. She looked the same, yet not the same. Something in him still responded to the mere sight of her…. Simple chemistry, he told himself. Her hair was longer and her eyes looked tired, strained. He thought she’d gained a little weight, too, though the few extra pounds didn’t look bad. When he’d known her in Albuquerque, she’d been almost too slender. Almost. His gaze lingered on her breasts, and he remembered how beautiful they’d been in his palms the night she’d come to him. His memory hadn’t done them justice, by the look of the full, soft mounds beneath her loose shirt.
“Hey, Zed.” Dulcie greeted the rancher through the open window of the truck. “What brings you back this way?”
“Got a delivery for you,” the man drawled.
Dulcie’s eyebrows rose and she cocked her head in question. “A delivery…?”
Tye opened his door and swung his legs to the ground, shouldering the duffel bag that was his only luggage. The landscape swam in front of him for a moment. He took a deep breath and rose, looking across the bed of the truck at the woman he came to see. “Hello, Dulcie.”
Her face drained of color and she took a step backward. “Tye? What are you doing here?”
“I came to visit you.” He walked around the truck toward her but stopped when she took another step back. She clearly wasn’t pleased to see him, and he was surprised at how bad that made him feel. He hadn’t known until just now how much he had counted on her welcome, her smile. What was the matter with her?
The door opened again while Dulcie stood staring at him as if he had two heads. Tye glanced beyond her at the blond woman emerging from the house.
“Hey, Angel,” Zed said from behind him. “I brought you a guest.”
“A guest?” The blonde looked surprised, but her face lit in a gracious smile as she walked toward him and extended her hand. “Hello, I’m Angel Kincaid. Welcome to the Red Arrow.”
Tye shook her hand. “Thank you. I’m Tye Bradshaw, a friend of Dulcie’s.”
The blonde turned to look curiously at Dulcie. “You didn’t tell me you were expecting anyone.”
“I wasn’t.” Dulcie’s voice was low and expressionless.
What the hell was wrong with her? She knew as well as he did that it wasn’t his fault that they’d been out of touch for so long. The pounding in his head was growing more and more insistent, and he knew from the times he’d been thrown by a horse and landed on his head that he’d better find a place to sit down before he passed clean out. “I wanted to surprise her,” he said to Angel as he moved slowly around the truck. “We were next-door neighbors in Albuquerque.” He was sweating with the effort it took to concentrate.
Angel frowned. “Are you well, Mr. Bradshaw?”
He attempted a smile. “I’ve been better. My car was broadsided by a pickup in Deming.”
“Doctor wanted to keep him, but he wouldn’t stay,” said the helpful rancher from behind him. Zed extended a sheet of paper to Dulcie, who automatically reached for it. “Instructions,” he said succinctly.
Dulcie heaved a sigh, apparently coming to some decision. “I guess you’ll have to come in.” She turned and began to lead the way to the house.
Tye followed her. He felt too lousy to ask her what her problem was. Later, when he felt better, he would tackle Dulcie.
As the rancher drove away, Angel followed them into the coolness of the house. All Tye could see of Dulcie was her rigid back, but he was aware of her silent disapproval every step of the way. He wondered if she was angry with him for leaving so abruptly after they’d. gotten together. He had tried to call her. He couldn’t help it if she had never returned his messages. If she had—What in hell was that noise?
A baby. He’d spent enough time around his two cousins’ families to recognize the sound of a baby squalling in outrage. His head pounded with each fresh shriek, and he put a hand to the wall to steady himself.
Dulcie gave a squeak of dismay. But it was Angel who darted ahead into the first room to the left, off the foyer they’d entered. The howling sound stopped abruptly. Tye stepped into what was obviously a living room to see Angel cradling a very small baby in her arms, gently patting its bottom and cooing at it. In the corner of the room, next to a massive timber-andstone fireplace, was a bassinet in which the baby must have been sleeping.
“That’s my little man. Did we go out and leave you all alone? You didn’t like that one bit, did you?” As Angel spoke, the baby gradually quieted.
“Sit down.” Dulcie pointed to a chair. Her voice was dull and devoid of warmth, her soft brown eyes unreadable.
He hesitated. He desperately wanted to talk to her, but the room was spinning around him and he couldn’t quite focus on her face.
When he didn’t immediately comply, she frowned. “You look like you’re about to keel over. Will you please sit down?”
He sat. She was right. But he had to get her alone. Before he could say anything, though, she lifted her head from the doctor’s instructions. “You have a concussion but you wouldn’t stay for observation?”
“No way.” He gingerly rolled his head in a negative motion against the high back of the chair where he’d collapsed. “I’ve had a concussion before. It’ll pass. If I could just lie down…?”
“In a minute,” she said. “You also broke your finger. Did you at least let them treat that?”
Well, she wasn’t fussing over him in quite the sympathetic way he’d imagined she might, but the note of concern in her voice could be taken as a positive sign. He hoped. “Yeah.” He held up the splinted digit for her inspection. “They can’t do much except straighten it out and wait for the bones to knit.”
Dulcie nodded. Then she asked, “Can your car be repaired?”
“I think so. They said something about the frame probably being…” He just couldn’t seem to retrieve the memory and instead fished a note out of his pocket, grimacing as the movement jarred his head. “They took it to this body shop and told me to call them tomorrow to see how long it will be.”
Dulcie took the note and scanned it. “I’ll call them later and tell them to put a rush on it. I guess you can stay here for a day or so until it’s done.”
So much for positive thinking.
“Dulcie!” Angel sounded rather startled, though she laughed to cover it. “We’ll extend our hospitality as long as you need it, Mr. Bradshaw. By the way. I’m Dulcie’s sister-in-law.”
“Thank you. And make it Tye.”
Angel had her hands full with the baby—it was squirming and squealing, banging its head against her chest repeatedly. “Are you getting hungry?” she said to the little one. “I’ll give you to—”
“Why don’t you change him before he eats?” Dulcie interrupted. “I’ll show Tye to a room and get him an ice pack for that finger.” To him, she said, “Follow me.” And before he could protest, she swung his duffel bag across her shoulder and marched out of the room.
He thought Angel looked a bit confused, but the expression passed so quickly that he couldn’t be sure. And the pounding in his head was growing worse by the second. Turning, he followed Dulcie up a staircase of pine and down a long, wide hallway flanked by at least half a dozen bedrooms. When she opened the door into a spacious guest room, he sank down immediately onto the handmade quilt that covered the big bed, with his booted feet dangling down over the edge.
With the same brisk efficiency the nurses at the hospital had shown earlier, she removed his boots and lifted his feet to the bed, all without uttering a word. Then she left him, to return a few moments later with an ice pack that he placed over his broken finger. It was swollen and rapidly turning an incredible shade of plum, but his head hurt too badly for it to bother him much.
“Get some rest,” she said, and in her voice he heard the first note of compassion he’d noticed yet. He tried to take her hand, but she placed herself out of reach in a too-casual movement that briefly infuriated him.
“I will,” he said, “and later we’re going to talk.”
She didn’t answer, just slipped from the room and left him alone.
Tye closed his eyes and drifted, finally sleeping for a while. At one point, Angel came in and roused him briefly, checking his pupils and then leaving him to sleep some more.
Sometime later, he awoke again. He started to lever himself upright, but a sharp wave of pain in his hand left him gasping for a moment. When his disorientation had subsided, he remembered where he was—and why. With interest, he looked around the room. For all he knew, Dulcie could have decorated this.
The room was sparsely but attractively furnished, with a large, double-door wardrobe and a comfort-able-looking chair made of pine the only furnishings other than the bed and adjacent table. A tall cactus in a ceramic pot stood in one corner, and painted deerskin pillows were piled on both the bed and the chair. On the bedside table was a stocky candle in a copper holder, and near it was a round clock face set into the carved shape of a buffalo. The clock read 5:12, so he figured he’d been resting for about two and a half hours.
His stomach growled loudly. Dinnertime would be soon and he realized he’d missed lunch completely. He’d probably been in X ray through the noon hour, though he hadn’t been aware of it at the time.
Thinking of the hospital reminded him of his physical state. He raised his hand and inspected the broken finger. Other than looking like a purple hot dog, it was fine. At least it didn’t hurt as much anymore. If he didn’t try to use it for anything.
Gingerly, he sat up, testing the state of his head as he pushed himself into a vertical position. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes but the blinding pain was gone. Mentally he thumbed his nose at the doctor from the emergency room. See? Told you I was fine. Growing up on a ranch makes a man tough. Got to be dead before I can be hospitalized.
Still, it wasn’t wise to push it too far, he thought. Prudently, he stuffed his toe into the top of one boot and dragged it toward him so that he could stomp into it without bending over. Then he repeated the process. Feeling pretty pleased with himself, he carefully rose, waiting for a mild wave of dizziness to pass before he walked out of the bedroom and headed for the staircase he dimly remembered coming up a few hours earlier.
What was Dulcie doing now? Recalling her behavior earlier, he realized that his chances of regaining her friendship—or anything else—were slim at this point. The idea didn’t set well. Only, of course, because he hated to be at odds with his friends.
He started down the hallway toward the steps he’d come up a few hours ago, intending to hunt her down and make her talk to him. A sound from the far end of the hallway caught his attention and he paused at the top step. Somewhere back there a woman was humming. And it sounded enough like Dulcie’s voice that he turned and retraced his steps, going past his bedroom and on down the hallway to the last door on the left.
The door was slightly ajar and the humming came from within. It was definitely Dulcie’s voice. He’d heard her hum while she’d made a meal for him one evening in Albuquerque. Elated at the opportunity to speak privately with her so soon, he put a hand against the door and pushed lightly.
The door swung open.
Dulcie sat in a rocking chair, gazing down at the baby in her arms. Her blouse hung open and the infant was suckling greedily at her exposed breast.
Shock tore through him. The child was hers!
He must have made some sound, because Dulcie’s head jerked up. A startled gasp escaped her, and her dark eyes widened to panicked proportions when she saw him standing there.
He couldn’t move. Wild thoughts were chasing through his brain faster than he could examine them all. Observations battered at his senses: the barely visible crown of the baby’s head covered in a down of dark hair…Dulcie’s arm tenderly cradling the tiny child…one little hand kneading his mother’s warm flesh as he suckled…
Finally, knowing he had questions that had to be answered, Tye took a deep breath and strode forward into the room where Dulcie and her baby sat.
His movement seemed to release her from stasis, as if she’d been frozen until then. She whipped a small blanket from the back of the rocking chair and draped it over her shoulder, arranging it to cover the nursing infant and her bare breast.
“What are you doing sneaking around like that?” Her face was as angry as her voice.
Dulcie’s harsh demand seemed to frighten the baby; Tye saw its little legs jerk spasmodically, and then the child began to cry. Immediately, Dulcie’s attention shifted. She drew the baby from beneath the blanket and cradled him in her arms, murmuring to him in low tones and gently patting his tiny back until gradually the infant quieted. After a moment, she placed him back under the blanket, frowning in concentration as she guided him to her breast.
The ease with which she handled the baby hammered home the truth that he was trying to deny, despite the clear evidence he’d seen. This baby really was Dulcie’s.
Tye was stunned. His head had begun to throb again. Who was this child’s father? At some point during those first days of getting to know each other in Albuquerque, he’d learned that Dulcie was separated from her husband, awaiting a divorce. At the time, Tye had thought Lyle Meadows must have been a blind man and a stupid one to boot.
But if the baby wasn’t Lyle’s…Despite the pain, his mind engaged in some rapid calculations. It had been almost exactly ten months ago that he and Dulcie had made love the first and only night they’d spent together. The same night that she’d discovered her husband’s infidelity. If she had conceived then, and if she’d carried the child to term, the baby should be somewhere around a month old.
Cautiously, he cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his dismay. “How old is he?”
Dulcie raised her chin and traded him stare for stare.
He’d remembered her as a quiet woman, soft and soothing, easily managed. There was nothing of those qualities in her now. He held her gaze, silently willing her to drop hers first.
She continued to look straight into his eyes. “My son is three weeks old.”
Three weeks old. The room swam around him again for a moment, but this time it wasn’t because his head hurt. Dismay and shock combined in a force that was nearly a physical sensation, sucking the breath from his chest. This was all his fault.
He’d taken advantage of her.
Ten months ago, Dulcie Meadows had been vulnerable and alone. She’d come to him for comfort and understanding. Oh, he’d been comforting, all right. And he’d been as understanding as could be. But if he’d been a true gentleman, he would have backed away. He wouldn’t have taken what she offered, would have realized that what she needed was a friend, not a horny fool like him.
Yet if he were completely honest, he was damned glad he wasn’t a gentleman on that single night with Dulcie. The only thing he really regretted was the way they had parted. He’d meant to go after her, to talk to her when she’d calmed down, but the phone call from his uncle had changed everything, and he’d had to rush off to Montana without settling things with Dulcie.
Telling himself that he’d tried to get in touch with her was little consolation. The whole time he’d been taking care of Uncle Ike’s ranch, he’d thought of her. He felt guilty and was determined to apologize.
That, of course, was what he’d made himself believe until now.
Until he’d seen her again.
But this…this wasn’t the way he’d expected their reunion to go.
Rage began to rise, both at himself and at Dulcie. What a fool he’d been. In all these months, he had never considered that there might have been consequences resulting from their night together.
Consequences. What a stupid euphemism. A baby was a darn sight more than a “consequence.” A baby was a huge, permanent obstacle in the simple path his life was following.
Why hadn’t she told him she was pregnant? One thing was clear: she sure hadn’t been thinking of him the way he’d constantly had her on his mind. God, if he hadn’t followed her down here, he still wouldn’t know that they’d created a baby together.
A baby. His baby. All his adult life he’d been careful to assume responsibility for birth control. until Dulcie. He’d vowed he would never have an illegitimate child, would never subject a child of his to the inevitable cruel taunts that would bring. All his life he’d been on the outside looking in at kids who belonged, kids who would never know bow the word “bastard” could slice through a child’s vulnerable heart. For he knew all too well how much that hurt.
And now he had a son who would bear the same stigma.
Dulcie sat frozen in the rocking chair, willing herself not to quail before the fury in Tye’s incredulous gaze.
He swore quietly, viciously, and she flinched despite her best efforts.
Finally, he stopped and just stared at her again. “He’s mine.”
She was supremely conscious of the slurping, grunting sounds her son made as he suckled. Tye must have heard him, too, because his gaze dropped momentarily to the outline of the baby’s body beneath the light throw she’d draped over herself. Superstitiously she crossed her fingers beneath the blanket.
“He’s not yours. He’s Lyle’s.”
“That’s bull and you know it.” Tye’s voice was rough and tight. “A blood test will prove it, too.”
“No!” She forced herself to mute the protest that escaped so that she wouldn’t upset the baby. “I’m telling you this is my husband’s child.”
Tye snorted. “Not likely, darlin’. I seem to recollect you telling me in no uncertain terms that your marriage bed hadn’t been used for anything besides sleep for a long time before I met you.”
Oh, she could just die. She remembered exactly when that conversation had taken place. And from the way Tye’s big body stilled and his nostrils flared, she knew he was recalling the same thing.
“Things happened after you left for Idaho—”
“Montana.” It was a snarl.
“Montana, then. Lyle and I resumed—”
“You’re lying. You expect me to believe you went back to that jerk after walking in on him in bed with another woman? I don’t think so.” The heavy scorn in his voice brought a rush of heat to her cheeks, but before she could formulate a response, he went on. “If it’s true, then I’m sure good ol’ Lyle won’t mind telling me about it. Shall I track him down and give him a call?”
The heat drained from her cheeks as suddenly as it came and left her cold. Freezing. “No.” She wanted to fight, to throw him out of her life, but she could see from the set look on his face that he wouldn’t go. Closing her eyes in defeat, she laid her head against the back of the rocker. “Lyle was killed in an automobile accident shortly after the divorce.”
Silence filled the room. When he didn’t answer, she opened her eyes.
He looked shocked, and for a moment she was meanly pleased to have knocked him off stride. But before she could congratulate herself too much, Tye recovered his voice.
“I’m sorry. That must have been a jolt even though you weren’t married any longer.” His tone grew steely. “Still, it doesn’t change anything, does it? That baby is mine and I’ll do whatever I have to to prove it.”
She didn’t know what else she could say, so she said nothing, just lowered her head and watched her son’s tiny feet flex as he tugged vigorously at her breast. Really, there was nothing more to say. If Tye forced the issue, he’d have no trouble finding out that he was indeed a father. She’d even listed him on the birth certificate.
Why had he come down here?
Even before she had learned of her pregnancy, she’d assumed she would never see him again. Truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to. Her behavior on the night she’d caught Lyle having sex with another woman wasn’t exactly something she wanted to recall.
She hadn’t planned on telling Tye he was going to be a father, honestly hadn’t thought he would want to know. In the few talks they had had about his photographic career, he had never hinted at any desire to settle down to family life. In fact, she distinctly remembered he’d said that bachelorhood suited him just fine. He’d been out of town half the time she had lived next to him. He was a wanderer, just like her husband had been. And she knew better than to expect anything from a wanderer.
Panic began to well up, clogging her throat with fear. What would happen now?
“Dulcie.” His voice interrupted her racing thoughts.
She looked up and was captured in the full intensity of his golden eyes. She’d forgotten how compelling his eyes were, how beautiful. His driver’s license called them hazel, but the word was only a pale description-”Is this our baby?” His words were quiet and plaintive, demanding honesty.
She swallowed, unable to look into those eyes and lie any longer. “Yes.”
A grimace twisted his face for a second.
It was gone so quickly that she couldn’t decipher it. Was he angry? Or had that been pain she’d glimpsed?
“Why didn’t you call me when you found out you were pregnant?” There was no accusation or demand in his voice, only bewilderment.
Dulcie shrugged, looking across the room at the copper-and-turquoise mobile that danced above the dressing table. “I didn’t know how to reach you,” she said.
Tye frowned and a small snort escaped him. “I slipped a note under your door with the number at my uncle’s ranch the morning I left. And I tried to call you, remember? Several times. Every time I did, I left the number.” He shook his head, looking at the baby as if he couldn’t fathom that it was real. “But you never called me back.”
Dulcie cleared her throat as she placed the baby against her shoulder and began to rub his back. “I, um, I didn’t keep your number.”
“You didn’t.” His words trailed off.
She saw the anger flare again, saw the conscious effort he made to overcome what she had to admit was a justified urge to shout at her. Why had she ever thought she could or should raise her son without at least giving his father the chance to know him?
“What’s his name?” Tye stepped closer and stretched out a finger, drawing back just before he caressed a tiny pink arm.
“Ryan.” Dulcie was mesmerized by those eyes again. Hadn’t she always been? Even when they’d just been friends, she’d been aware of his sex appeal. But now, it filled the room, making her supremely aware of the intimate bond they shared. “His name is Tyler Ryan Kincaid. I took my maiden name back after the divorce.”
The small twitch at the corner of his eye was the only sign he gave of his surprise, but his voice was deadly quiet when he spoke. “You named him after me, but you weren’t going to tell me about him?”
Two (#ulink_023f4ab0-68d7-5663-bbcf-0edd94e0ad80)
His son. Tye swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. He had a son.
Nothing in his life had prepared him for the emotion that surged through him as reality sank in. For a moment, all his misgivings were submerged beneath a growing sense of wonder.
He circled around to the side of the rocking chair to get a better look at the baby. The child’s round skull was covered with thick black hair that stuck straight up. His tiny head lolled to one side and his eyes were half closed, his arms hanging limply over Dulcie’s shoulder. He looked the very picture of satiation.
Gently, Tye slipped his index finger beneath the baby’s palm. When Ryan reflexively clasped his hand around his father’s finger, Tye smiled. “Wow. He’s got quite a grip for such a little guy.”
“He’s not so little,” she said. “He weighed over nine pounds when he was born.”
His cousin Leslie’s second daughter had been almost that big, and he remembered the horror story her husband told about how difficult the birth had been. He winced at the thought. Dulcie was small and petite, hardly built for delivering a miniature fullback. “Was it hard on you?”
She shrugged. “After twenty-three hours of labor, they thought I wasn’t going to be able to deliver him. They were prepping me for a cesarean section when his head crowned and the doctor decided to give it one more try. I think it was about two more hours after that before he was delivered.”
He was appalled. The thought of her suffering through a day of wrenching pain was more than he could bear to think about. “Were you alone?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Angel was with me.” Then her lips curved into a wry smile. “Although I wish she hadn’t been. That experience could have turned her off pregnancy for life.”
He didn’t share her mirth. “Dammit, Dulcie, I could have been there. I could have helped you.” His voice reflected the bitterness that rose within him. “But you never gave me the chance. You were going to cut me out of my son’s life without a second thought. Why?”
Her hand moved restlessly over the baby’s back, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I…we really didn’t know each other that well, Tye. You’re devoted to your work and you’re always traveling. I honestly didn’t think it would matter to you.” Her hand hesitated for a moment, and she looked up at him with an unspoken apology in her dark eyes. “Now I realize that was unfair.”
“Unfair?” Tye snorted. “That’s an understatement.” He eased his finger from his son’s tiny fist and walked across the room, massaging the back of his neck with one hand.
“What will you do now?” Behind him, Dulcie’s voice was filled with apprehension.
He pivoted to face her. “How the hell do I know? I just found out I’m a father five minutes ago. I need some time to think about this.” And just like that, he knew what he needed to do. “You and I have to talk, to make some decisions. I’ll stay here at the ranch for a while until we can sort all this out.”
Dulcie’s eyes widened. “Here? In this house?”
“In this house,” he confirmed. Seeing her brows draw together, he added, “And just in case you’re thinking of refusing, let me remind you that I could take this to court if I have to. I have a right to be involved in my son’s life.”
Dulcie was silent for so long that he wondered what she was thinking. When she finally spoke, it wasn’t the stinging response for which he’d braced himself. “What about your job?” she asked. “Don’t you have to work?”
Tye thought of the healthy nest egg his free-lance photography had provided, about the way his agent was constantly pestering him to approve limitededition prints from some of his work. “Let me worry about that,” he advised her.
The ringing of the dinner bell interrupted any more conversation. He waited in the hall until Dulcie rearranged her clothing, then followed her downstairs to the dining room, where the table was prepared for dinner.
Three cowboys were taking seats as he entered. Dulcie pointed to a seat at the long table and told him, “Sit there.” She placed Ryan in a little cradle next to the far corner of the table and took a seat where she could see the baby. Just then, Angel backed through the door from what he assumed was the kitchen. Behind her was a little girl with glossy, bouncing dark curls carrying a fistful of napkins, which she handed to Dulcie. Angel set a large casserole dish on the table and turned to lift the little girl into a chair. Another cowboy, easily the biggest man in the room, entered through the same door, carrying a huge bowl of baked potatoes, as well as a covered basket from which wafted the fragrant scent of bread. He set them on the table and took the seat at the head of the table, with Angel on his right and the child seated between them.
Angel placed her hand on the man’s brawny forearm. “Day, we have a visitor this evening. This is Tye Bradshaw.” She turned and smiled at Tye. “Tye, this is my husband, Day Kincaid, Dulcie’s brother.”
The rancher rose at the same time Tye did. The hand he extended met Tye’s in a grip strong enough to crush bone. Tye returned it in full measure, not easing the pressure until Day grinned and relaxed his palm. “Welcome to the Red Arrow, Tye. What brings you to these parts?”
As both men resumed their seats, Dulcie rushed into speech before Tye could explain his presence. “Tye was my neighbor in Albuquerque. He’s going to be visiting for a few days.”
A few days? Tye turned his head and stared at Dulcie until she dropped her gaze to her plate. He had a suspicion it was going to take more than a few days to straighten out everything between them. When he looked at Day Kincaid again, the welcome had faded from Day’s eyes and a guarded speculation had replaced his initial friendliness.
Angel carried on with the introductions. Tye saw her nudge her husband in the ribs with a surreptitious elbow, clearly a warning to mind his company manners. “Tye was involved in an accident in Deming, and his car is under repair.” Then she turned to Tye again, naming for him the three cowhands who were grouped at the foot of the table. She finished by pointing to the little girl. “And this is our daughter, Beth Ann. She’s a big help with her new cousin Ryan.”
The child giggled and nodded vigorously. “I sing songs to Ry’n. He loves my songs.”
Tye couldn’t help grinning. The child reminded him of his two cousins’ little girls. “How old are you, Beth Ann?” he asked.
She proudly held up four stubby fingers. “Fou’.”
“Wow!” He feigned amazement. “I have two little nieces the very same age.”
Beth Ann looked fascinated. “What’s ’ere names?”
“Melody and Ariel,” he answered. “Melody has a big sister named Pamela and Ariel has two baby sisters called Margaret and Katie.” When he glanced at Dulcie, there was a speculative expression on her face, and he didn’t trust the gleam in her eye.
“That’s a lot of girls,” she remarked. “I don’t remember hearing about your family before.”
No one else at the table could have registered the dig but Tye. Hell! He hadn’t purposely concealed anything from Dulcie. When they’d gone out together in Albuquerque, they’d talked only in generalities. Or about her marriage.
“Technically, they aren’t my nieces, they’re my cousins. I don’t have any sisters or brothers,” he said. No time like the present to start overcoming past mistakes. “Those are the children of the two cousins I was raised with.”
He could see in her face the desire to question him further, but the rest of the company gathered around the table inhibited her.
“So you’re from Albuquerque?” Dulcie’s brother addressed him from the end of the table.
Tye shook his head. “Not originally. And not recently. My family is in Montana. I’m a free-lance photographer, and for a while I had an apartment in Albuquerque.” He inclined his head toward Dulcie. “Which is where Dulcie and I met. But I’ve spent the last year on a Montana cow-calf operation, working for my uncle after he fell and shattered his left leg pretty badly.”
Day’s eyes lit up. “How many head?”
The rest of the meal was dominated by ranch talk. Although Tye could tell Day hadn’t forgotten to be suspicious of him, Tye liked Dulcie’s brother. And her sister-in-law, Angel. A beautiful woman. Idly he wondered what there was about human attraction that made him only mildly interested in her undeniable fair beauty, while every cell in his body was alert to Dulcie’s presence when she was in the room. No way could he pretend he was indifferent to Dulcie.
That was good, Tye decided as he watched his son’s tiny body stretch and squirm as Ryan awoke from his catnap in the cradle, because he was going to be seeing a lot of her in the future since they would be raising their son together. Together. The word brought a whole host of interesting possibilities to mind, but he pushed them aside to consider a more mundane matter.
He wanted to be involved in his son’s life. Not just hovering on the periphery but to be there on a daily basis. There to witness the first step, the first word, to set him on his first pony and to teach him to ride and rope. Even more important, he wanted Ryan to have the stability of a family of his own, to know he was loved, to feel that he was special.
He knew what it was like to spend your life wondering what had been more important to your parents than the child they had created and abandoned. Ryan was never going to have to face that.
He and Dulcie had created Ryan. For the rest of their lives they would be tied by that bond. He might as well admit it—there was only one conclusion to the thoughts racing around in his head. He was going to marry her.
Amazingly, the thought didn’t bother him. He’d avoided commitment like the plague all his life because he hadn’t thought he’d ever want the responsibility of children, and everybody knew marriage nearly always meant kids. But in the few short hours since he’d been presented with his son’s existence, he’d been touching on the idea like a skittish colt who wanted sugar but was afraid of the hand that held it. Coming close, dancing away, drawing near again but not quite able to complete the leap of faith it took. Well, he guessed he was leaping now.
He couldn’t imagine marriage to another woman, but marrying Dulcie seemed like a good idea to him. He’d spent enough time with her to know that she soothed him rather than irritated. And God knew they were a good match in bed.
The mere pairing of “bed” and “Dulcie” in the same thought was all it took to bring back vivid memories of the night she’d lain with him. Too vivid. He shifted in his seat and deliberately transferred his gaze to the squirming infant she was lifting from the pine cradle.
Ryan might be the reason for the marriage, but the more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed. Then, when he was away on assignment, Ryan still would have one parent and a lot of support and stability in his life.
“Come into my study? I’d like to talk a little more.”
Dulcie’s brother was looking at him expectantly, and he realized Day had been addressing him. The man clearly was used to giving orders and having people jump.
Slowly, he pushed away his plate and rose. “The meal was delicious. Thank you.”
Angel smiled graciously as she began to clear away the supper dishes. Dulcie avoided his eyes, but she looked worried about something. He promised himself that as soon as he could get away from Day, he’d talk to her some more.
He followed the other man toward the front of the house and into an office.
“Have a seat.”
The tone in Day’s voice wasn’t an invitation but an order. What the hell was up here? Tye ignored the command, leaning against a sturdy bookshelf and consciously adopting a relaxed pose. “Thanks, I’ll stand.” He looked at the computer equipment spread across the desk. “What software do you use for your breeding program?”
“I didn’t bring you in here to compare work techniques,” Day said. His teeth clicked together audibly over the last word. “You’re upsetting my sister. Angel told me Dulcie wasn’t expecting you.”
“She didn’t know I was coming,” he admitted. “I thought I’d drop in and see her while I was down this way.”
“You’ll have to leave tomorrow,” Day said abruptly. “She’s a new mother and a recent widow. She needs rest and no disruptions.”
“I’m aware of Dulcie’s needs. But she and I have some catching-up to do. I planned on a longer visit.”
Day’s face darkened. “My sister has had enough man trouble in her life to last her quite a while. If you’re courtin’, she’s not interested.”
Damn. He should have known this wasn’t going to be easy. There was no help for it but to tell the truth. “I’m not exactly courtin’.” He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I’m Ryan’s father. And I’m hoping to stay awhile.”
The bald words ricocheted off every wall in the room. A second crawled by, then two. From the kitchen, the clatter of dishes seemed abnormally loud. Day’s face would have made a great photograph, if Tye was into portraits. He’d title it Shock Absorbing.
“Is that true?” Day’s sharp demand wasn’t aimed at him. Tye turned, seeing for the first time that Dulcie stood behind him in the doorway.
She nodded, apparently speechless, but he could read pure outraged anger in her expression.
“But…what about Lyle…?” Day was floundering, apparently trying to figure out how to phrase his questions in a delicate manner. At any other time, Tye would have found his efforts immensely amusing.
“Tye and I weren’t…we didn’t…we were just friends until my divorce was final,” Dulcie informed her brother in a steely tone. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Good for her. Intent on Dulcie, Tye never saw the fist that connected with his jaw. He didn’t even get his hands out in time to break the fall, and Day’s punch knocked him flat on his back on the hard wooden floor.
He lay there, his head throbbing. The headache from the accident that had been held at bay after his nap returned in force. He was seeing three and four of everything, but his hearing was unimpaired and he had no trouble deciphering the raw fury beneath the blistering curses that Day Kincaid was heaping on his head.
“Get up,” Day said through his teeth. “Get up so I can knock you down again. You’re not fit to lick my sister’s boots. It might be okay in Montana to use a woman without worrying about consequences, but around here we do things differently. Real men don’t leave their women to face pregnancy and birth alone. Real men don’t father bas—”
“Day, stop it!” The command was a harsh scream. “He’s injured. You might have done permanent damage to his head.” Dulcie was kneeling at Tye’s side, her fingers gently exploring the spot on his jaw where Day’s fist had landed.
Day uttered a growl of contempt. “I figure that would be an improvement.” He glared at Tye. “Get up.”
Tye climbed to his feet, despite Dulcie’s protests. He still saw two of the furious dark-haired man, but he did his best to focus on one of them. “You can pound on me some more if it makes you feel better. I probably deserve it.” He paused, then looked at Dulcie, holding her gaze with his own as he spoke to her brother. “But I won’t fight back. Dulcie’s already too upset. She needs rest and relaxation right now. Having the two of us at each other’s throat won’t help.”
Dulcie’s big brown eyes were fastened on his face. Though he was speaking to her brother, he was communicating with her, as well. I’m sorry. Let me try to make this right.
Day cleared his throat.
Dulcie shook her head slightly, as if she was coming out of a trance. Her expression darkened again as she stomped across the room toward Day. “How dare you!”
“Huh?” Day looked taken aback by her attitude. “What did I do?”
“I can fight my own battles.” Dulcie shook her finger in his face, so close that he flinched and blinked. “Stop pretending to be a protective older brother.”
“I’m not pretending.” Day’s tone was injured.
“I know.” Dulcie’s voice softened slightly. “And it’s nice to know you care. But I can straighten out my life without any interference from you.” She slipped behind him and gave him a hefty shove that barely succeeded in jostling his solidly muscled frame. “Now go away. Tye and I need to talk.”
“All right. But I want to say one last thing to lover boy here.” Day looked back over Dulcie’s head at Tye. “I’m not sorry I hit you. And if you want to try a rematch, you just name the date.”
“Out!” Dulcie stomped her foot and flung out an arm toward the door.
With a last unreadable glance at his sister, Day left the room.
When the door closed behind him, Dulcie turned to face Tye. Or maybe turned on him was more accurate, he decided. The woman didn’t look happy. Even so, she was enchanting.
Her glossy black hair curled wildly to a point below her shoulders, and her dark eyes were sparkling with temper. Her brows were drawn together in a manner that she probably thought looked ferocious, but to him only emphasized her fragility and femininity. He’d been attracted to her quiet, self-contained beauty in Albuquerque, but he’d sensed there was more to her than she would share with him. Perhaps that had been part of her charm.
Now he was seeing what lay below the surface. And far from boring or repulsing him, he found this new, spirited woman more exciting than ever.
“And you,” she said in a tone laden with fury. “How dare you talk about me behind my back? If I’d wanted Day to know you were Ryan’s father, I would have told him myself.”
That stung. Already he was absurdly proud of his newfound parent status. “You should have told him,” he said harshly. “Just like you know in your heart you should have told me.”
That stopped her. Dulcie paused with her mouth open to deliver another verbal blast, and to his chagrin, he saw tears rising in her eyes. “This won’t work,” she said. “You’re going to have to leave.”
He would have gone to her and taken her in his arms, but she dragged her sleeve across her eyes and he realized her temper hadn’t abated. Instead, he crossed his arms and shook his head. “Nope.”
“But I can’t think when you’re around.” She crossed the floor to him and placed her hand on his arm. “Please, Tye. Each of us needs to have time to decide what we want for Ryan before we try to discuss it. I won’t try to exclude you anymore. I just don’t want to make any rash decisions.”
She looked so appealing that he couldn’t prevent himself from unfolding his arms and sliding his uninjured hand up to cup her elbow. Drawing her closer, he slipped his arms around her shoulders and dropped his head to nuzzle his nose in her soft hair. “I don’t need time,” he murmured. “I know exactly what I want for our son.”
“And what’s that?” she whispered. She held herself rigid and unyielding, but her breathing was shallow and uneven and her breath was warm against his throat. The tips of her breasts brushed his chest over and over again. He had to restrain himself from yanking her to him so that he could feel every womanly curve again.
But he didn’t want to spook her. And truthfully, he didn’t feel good enough right now for a serious advance. He wanted to do this right. Tye kissed her ear, then began to trail his lips along her temple. The blood was pulsing through his body in a stirring tempo heightened by her proximity. “I’m prepared to marry you.”
She stood frozen for a moment, but he’d expected some initial shock and he kept up the lightly sensual caresses. In a minute she’d think it through and be relieved. Maybe she would even be glad-”You’re prepared to marry me?” Her voice was strident and filled with fury as she tore herself out of his embrace, and he realized that she wasn’t reacting in quite the way he’d anticipated.
“Yes.” She should be pleased, shouldn’t she? It was important that Ryan have a father in his life. And legitimacy. That was important, too.
“You’re prepared to marry me.” This time it wasn’t a question but a statement loaded with sarcasm. “What a lucky girl I am.” Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed Tye from head to toe and back again with insulting thoroughness.
“Look.” He didn’t know what to say to reassure her. “We’ve both made mistakes. But I’d like to correct them. I can provide for you and Ryan, if that’s part of the problem here.” He knew he sounded defensive, but he couldn’t figure out why she seemed to be so mad now.
“Marriage to you isn’t going to correct anything,” Dulcie said emphatically. “I don’t need you to provide for Ryan and me. I have a family and work right here on the ranch. You, on the other hand, travel constantly. I have no intention of marrying another man who plunks me in an apartment somewhere and takes off for weeks on end.”
“You know my schedule is flexible. We could work something out.” Although he couldn’t think of anything workable right at the moment.
“How would I know your schedule is flexible?” Her voice rose. “I don’t know anything about your work! You take pictures.and that’s all you’ve ever told me. Pictures of what? Something that requires travel, obviously.”
He hesitated. His work was a private thing, always had been. Not even his family in Montana knew how well he’d done for himself. It wasn’t something he’d consciously planned. It was more that he’d felt separate, not quite a part of a family unit for as long as he could remember. He knew he was like a son to Uncle Ike and Aunt Gem, like a brother to their two daughters, but he’d always felt in his heart that he didn’t really belong.
His photography was the only way he’d ever found to define himself, to identify himself without needing the context of family to tell him who he was. He was proud of what he’d accomplished, proud of who he was. And if he wanted to create a family with Dulcie, he supposed he’d have to share that with her.
He crossed to Day’s desk, silently pointing to the cover of a glossy stock journal on the corner.
Dulcie raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“This is mine.” He could remember the day he’d taken the photo like it was yesterday. He’d waited for two hours in the hot sun for that Brangus bull to look his way. Finally, he’d begun to throw small pebbles to attract the dozing animal’s attention. It had worked a little too well. When the bull had spotted him, he’d not only looked but charged. It wasn’t the first time in Tye’s life that he’d been charged or chased, but it was the first that he’d ever vaulted a fence running uphill wearing more than a dozen pounds of camera equipment.
But Dulcie didn’t look very impressed. “You take pictures of cattle?”
“Among other things.” He shrugged. “I’ve been described as a photographer of ’the Western way of life.’“
“And magazines pay you for that?”
“Yep.” He hesitated, then figured he’d better let her hear it all. “I’ve sold prints to collectors and had two coffee-table books published. Dulcie, money is not a problem. I’m more than able to take care of you and Ryan. You wouldn’t have to work.”
“That’s not why I asked.” Her voice was still acid. “You know a lot about me, but in the time we knew each other, you never shared anything about yourself. All I Was to you was a warm body—” her voice rose “—and that’s no basis for marriage. So stop feeling guilty about me, cowboy. I wouldn’t marry you if you made a million bucks a year!”
She started past him, clearly planning a grand exit with the last word, but his temper, usually so even, snapped beneath the contempt in her tone.
He grabbed her arm and dragged her to a halt, shoving his face close to hers, ignoring the startled shock in her eyes. “Don’t think we’re done with this discussion,” he snarled. “I know all about how it feels to grow up as a bastard with no father, and my son is never going to be deprived that way!”
“Ryan is not a bastard!” she shouted back, yanking herself away. “And don’t you ever think that he’ll be deprived in any way. I did a fine job carrying him and bearing him alone, and I can do just fine raising him alone.”
He winced as her sudden movement jolted a shaft of pain through his damaged finger, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down and find something soothing to say to her-The door slammed.
His eyes flew open and he groaned, putting a hand to his throbbing head. She was gone. He could hear her quick, agitated footsteps receding along the hall for a minute, but the room spinning around him claimed his attention and he dropped to his knees on the study floor.
Guess his timing wasn’t so great. Apparently, Dulcie didn’t see marriage to him as the sensible solution that he thought it was. When he felt better, he’d try to talk to her again. If he ever felt better. Right now, about the only thing he was sure of was that he’d like to detach his head and set it on a shelf for a few days.
* * *
She’d have sworn this mattress hadn’t been so lumpy yesterday. Dulcie turned over restlessly once more, resolutely ignoring the glowing numbers of her bedside clock. She already knew it was late.
For the past several hours, she hadn’t been in this bed, on this ranch.
No, she’d been several hours and many miles north of here. Once again, with the startling clarity reserved for memories of profound shock, she’d walked into the tiny living room of the Albuquerque apartment she shared with her husband, Lyle. Or at least, it was the home where she’d lived while Lyle was jetting around the country wheeling and dealing the way he insisted a successful businessman had to if he wanted to make it in a competitive market.
The apartment had begun to feel like a prison as her marriage unraveled. Finally, after a last huge blowup, when she’d faced the fact that her marriage was over, she’d gone home. Back to the Red Arrow, where she was needed, where she was loved.
But just as she had begun to see that life didn’t end with divorce, Lyle had called. Granted, he said he’d phoned to tell her that the divorce papers should be ready for her signature within the week, but it was what he didn’t say that brought her back to Albuquerque. Lyle had sounded…what? Lonely? Perhaps. Depressed? That, too. There had been some indefinable poignancy in his voice, in the way he’d simply hung on the line as if he had just needed to hear her….
And in that drawn-out, hesitant moment, all her rage, all the animosities that had built between them as a result of his frequent and protracted absences vanished as she remembered the way it had been when they first met. Was he sorry things had come to this? Was there still a chance that they could salvage their love and their life together?
She didn’t know.
And that was what took her back to the apartment that last time. She could never forgive herself if she walked out of her marriage without doing everything she could to preserve it. Marriage was a process of give and take. Maybe she hadn’t given enough. Maybe Lyle was having some of the very same thoughts.
The apartment door was locked when she arrived in the early evening. Good thing her husband got home so late—she’d have time to clean the place and fix dinner. When the lock clicked and the door smoothly opened, she walked into the living room, tossing her purse on the hall table. Absently she noted that Lyle must be home, after all—his briefcase lay in the middle of the living room floor. It struck her as odd, considering what a freak about neatness and order he’d always been, but she was too intent on her mission to really notice. Maybe it was better this way—more spontaneous. If she had too much more time to think about what she wanted to say, she’d have it so mixed up she’d never get it out.
Rounding the corner into the hallway, she headed past the kitchen and dining areas, eager to find Lyle. A cursory glance showed no one in the kitchen, and she started to move on, but then she looked farther, at the small pine table tucked into the nook.
And she stopped, riveted in a shocked horror that froze her into immobility.
Lyle stood in front of the table, between the legs of a woman who was reclining on her elbows, her long hair streaming down as her head drooped backward. She was naked from the waist down and the tailored blouse beneath her suit jacket was unbuttoned and shoved to her sides, baring her breasts. Lyle’s pants sagged around his ankles as the thighs of the woman on the table gripped his hips. His hands were on her breasts, kneading in rhythm with his thrusting hips. Amazingly, the pair were almost totally silent. Dulcie could nearly hear her own breathing.
She could definitely hear the hitching sob she sucked in as the scene before her seared into her brain.
The woman’s head jerked upright. Dulcie would never forget the look of shock and panic on her flushed face. Nor would she ever forget what had happened next.
She had run from the apartment, disregarding Lyle’s shouts for her to wait. The tears had blinded her even before she’d grabbed her purse and opened the door.
She probably would have jumped into her car and driven straight back to the ranch if Tye hadn’t come down the hallway just then. He’d been a neighbor and a friend during her life in Albuquerque, and seeing his tall figure striding toward her had been a sweet relief. She knew Tye would help her.
Alone in the dark New Mexico night, she cried aloud. Oh, Tye had helped her, all right. And a few weeks later, the ink barely dry on her divorce decree, she’d realized she was pregnant with Tye’s child.
Dulcie sighed and twisted to her other side again. Seeing him again had awakened all the illicit thoughts and memories she’d suppressed since she’d fled from his bed. Oh, she was wicked. Tye couldn’t be blamed for anything. Everything that had happened with Tye that night was nobody’s fault but her own. She’d practically begged him to take her, and she’d reveled in every minute of the rough, wild loving they’d shared. Just thinking about the way they had frantically shed each other’s clothing, hands and mouths racing, sliding, tasting, gliding. And the way he had taken control as he’d urged her atop him and mastered her with his big, hard body, telling her in hoarse whispers how beautiful she was and how much he’d wanted her, the way her body had accepted the heavy, surging demand of his….
Oh, yes, indeed, she was wicked. And she was driving herself crazy thinking about him. She should be sleeping while the baby was, for heaven’s sake, not lying here getting herself all hot and bothered about a man who had only tracked her down because he thought he’d needed to apologize.
What a shock Ryan must have been to him! She could almost smile when she recalled the stunned look on his face earlier, seeing her nursing her son. Another more recent memory slipped into her mind, and she let it surface, examining her new knowledge from every angle, trying to make it fit with the man she knew.
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