Joanna Wayne - Cowboy Fever

Worse, he had a feeling deep in his gut that the complications were going to get a lot worse before this was over.

DAKOTA’S FEET stretched over the end of the sofa, making it impossible to get into a comfortable position. A nagging headache sat at the back of his skull. Breathing hurt. His muscles ached.

Unable to sleep, his mind juggled the night’s events. It was purely coincidence that he’d arrived on the scene at the exact moment that Viviana was being attacked.

But how much of the rest of what happened was coincidence? Random attack or targeted? A determined bastard coming to finish what he’d started at the hospital?

And if Viviana had been targeted, was Hank Bateman behind it? Dakota would need to know a lot more about the Compton case before he could even make an intelligent guess.

He could call his brother Wyatt. Consulting a good homicide detective made sense, and Wyatt was one of the best. But calling him in Atlanta would open a whole new set of thorny dilemmas.

Two of Dakota’s brothers lived in or near their hometown of Mustang Run. Dylan lived on Willow Creek Ranch with their father; Sean lived close by in Bandera. His brother Tyler planned to move back to the ranch as soon as he finished his stint in the army. His wife, Julie, was already there.

Dylan, Tyler and Sean had let go of the past and embraced Troy Ledger as if he were Santa Claus coming down the chimney on Christmas Eve. It worked for them.

Dakota wanted no part of it. At this late date, he wasn’t about to start wallowing in the mud while pretending it was chocolate.

Dakota stretched and cringed as he sucked in the pain. He hadn’t hurt this bad since … since he’d been kicked by a bull the night he’d first met Viviana. Or maybe since the night they’d said goodbye and he’d rode off into the sunset in his then-aging pickup truck.

There were all kinds of hurtin’.

He’d get over the pain in his muscles and joints soon enough, but he might as well face facts. Even if Viviana told him his presence around here wasn’t wanted or needed, which he figured was the basis for the promised discussion, he’d be in no shape to ride or rack up points for the next few nights.

VIVIANA JERKED AWAKE to the sound of footfalls on the stairs. She glanced at the clock—7:00 a.m. No doubt Claire was going to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, just as she did most mornings about this time. Only normally Viviana would be just finishing up her graveyard shift.

This morning when Claire went for the morning newspaper, she’d spy the hunky cowboy on the sofa. The officious nanny would not consider that a pleasant surprise.

Viviana untangled her feet from the sheets, jumped from the bed and grabbed her ivory-colored silk robe. She’d have to get downstairs on the double to explain—or run interference—since somehow Claire had slept right through last night’s drama. As had Briana.

The sixty-something nanny was in super physical condition, but she did have a slight hearing problem. She didn’t wear her aids when she slept, but she kept the baby monitor on the bedside table near her ear so that she’d hear Briana’s slightest whimper.

Poking her arms through the sleeves of the robe, Viviana made a quick stop at the door to the nursery. Briana stirred and stretched her pudgy little arms over her head when the door squeaked open, but thankfully her eyes remained closed.

The smell of coffee drifted up the staircase. Dakota must have beat Claire to the brew task. Impulsively, Viviana smoothed her hair and pulled the robe tighter, looping the belt to keep the robe closed.

Her pulse quickened as she pictured Dakota in her kitchen making coffee. Barefoot. His hair rumpled. Wearing his briefs … or nothing at all. The memories of how it had once been spilled into her mind and Viviana trembled as heat suffused her body.

She paused when she reached the bottom step, and her fingers wrapped tightly around the newel cap as she eavesdropped on the conversation.

“Now who did you say you are again?”

“Dakota Ledger.”

“And you’re an old friend of Viviana’s?”

“That’s right.”

Viviana hurried to the kitchen before Dakota had to answer any more questions, and before he started asking any. He was barefoot and shirtless, but fortunately wearing jeans.

“I see you two have met,” Viviana said.

“Yes, and he’s lucky I didn’t ram a knife through him. I sure didn’t expect to find a strange man in the kitchen.”

“Sorry I didn’t warn you,” Viviana said, “but his visit was unexpected. I ran into him in the E.R. and, well, he just wasn’t in any shape to go home alone. I thought he should stay here in case his pain became worse during the night.”

She did not want to explain the ordeal of last night to Claire. If she tried, Claire would ask a million questions and give at least an hour’s worth of advice.

Claire studied the bruises on Dakota’s chest and shoulder. “Were you in an accident?”

“You could say that. I got thrown from a bull.”

“Seriously?”

“Serious as a kick to the ribs.”

“Hmmph.”

Her skeptical tone no doubt summed up not only Claire Evers’s feelings on bull riding, but also her thoughts on his having spent the night.

Viviana pulled some mugs from the cabinet over the coffeemaker. “Thanks for filling in for me last night, Claire.”

“You know I don’t mind staying when you need me.”

“And I really appreciate that. I won’t need you anymore today and you probably have things you need to do.” It was the most tactful way she could think of to get rid of Claire.

“I don’t have anything planned. I can stay if you need me.”

“No. I can handle things.”

“In that case, I’ll just get my handbag and head out. I’ll be back on Wednesday evening at my regular time.”

“Are you the housekeeper?” Dakota asked.

“Lands, no. I’m the nanny. I’ve taken care of Briana since six weeks after she was born. Viviana says she doesn’t trust anyone but me with her baby.”

“Viviana’s baby?” Dakota leaned against the counter, so stunned the words were a husky whisper.

“Yes. The doctor’s daughter. Briana? Who did you think I was talking about?”

“Just checking.” He stood perfectly still, staring at Viviana without saying a word until Claire was out of hearing range. “You never mentioned having a baby,” he said accusingly.

“You didn’t ask.” She poured two mugs of coffee and handed one to him. “I guess you still take it black.”

“Forget the coffee. How old is the baby?”

“Seven months.”

“Seven months. Does that mean you were pregnant with another man’s child when we were together?”

This was not the way Viviana had planned this encounter. Only, that was the real problem. She’d never been able to visualize exactly what she’d say or how Dakota would react. And she was starting to resent his attitude.

“I don’t remember you asking or caring if I was in another relationship at the time. But I wasn’t pregnant when we met, Dakota. I was pregnant when you left.”

“You’re not saying …”

“Yes, I’m saying you have a precious, adorable daughter—Briana. You don’t have to take my word for it. You can swab her cheek and have a paternity test if that would make you feel better. But I wasn’t with another man for months before I met you and I haven’t been with one since.”

Briana began to wail. She was a terrific baby, but she had a horrific sense of timing.

Viviana left Dakota standing in the kitchen staring into space like a zombie while she climbed the steps to the nursery to get Briana from her crib. It was past time the little darling met her bruised and battered cowboy daddy.