Delores Fossen - The Cowboy's Son

“Some advice?” the deputy drawled. “It’s not a good idea to trespass on Dylan’s property. Since he adopted that little boy, he doesn’t pull any punches about stuff like that. He’ll have your butt arrested in a New York minute.”

Collena ignored the warning and brushed some snowflakes off her face. “Is he a good father?”

The deputy glanced at her as if she were mentally a little off. “Yeah. He is. A surprise, if you ask me. When the two of us were growing up, I never took Dylan for the fatherly type.”

Well, the deputy was apparently the only person surprised with Dylan’s fatherly attributes. In the past three days, Collena’s team of investigators had dug up everything they could on the man, and from all accounts Dylan wasn’t just a good father, he was an outstanding one. In addition, he had a sterling reputation and was considered to be an honest, dependable man if not a little ruthless when it came to running his business.

And it was all those things combined that had made Collena come up with her plan.

A plan that had to work. Even though she had no idea how she was going to convince Dylan Greer to do what she needed him to do.

She studied the man ahead of her. He had the looks to go along with that sterling reputation. He was, for lack of a better word, golden . Bronze-colored hair that fell low on the back of his neck. Naturally tan skin. And those sizzling green eyes. Amazing eyes to compliment his amazingly rugged face.

Collena hated that she noticed the last part, but it would have been impossible to ignore. If the world ever needed a cowboy cover model, Dylan Greer would be the perfect man for the job.

She’d expected to feel insecure and inferior around him, what with his money, education and power. There would always be some of that. But Collena hadn’t expected to feel the slight tingle inside that reminded her she was a woman.

A hungry woman.

The tingle couldn’t have anything to do with Dylan. Low blood-sugar levels were to blame. And Collena refused to believe otherwise. She had a job to do here, and she couldn’t let tingling feelings get in the way.

“I take it there’s a history between Dylan and you?” The deputy didn’t wait for her to answer. “Were you two lovers and then you gave up your baby for adoption?”

“Nothing like that,” she muttered. So she wouldn’t have to continue this interrogation, she hurried to catch up with Dylan. “Did you hear what I said about being Adam’s mother?”

It was a rhetorical question, a way to get the conversation started. Because Collena was dead certain he had heard every single word she’d said back there in the stables.

He spared her a glance and kept walking through the pasture. “There was no reason to respond because I don’t believe you.”

Ah, skepticism. She’d expected that, too. “It’s the truth. I have proof.”

Another glance. This one had some fire and ice to it. He had the eyes for such a range of emotion. Those shades of green seemed both hot and cold at the same time. Right now, they were leaning toward the chilly side, and that chill was all aimed at her.

“I’ll be interested in this so-called proof,” he said, opening the door. He went in ahead of her and checked out the place before he motioned for her to enter.

Collena stepped inside the toasty warm room, and she could almost feel her body sigh with relief. The deputy came in, shut the door behind him and brushed the snowflakes off his clothes.

Collena soon detected the source of the welcoming heat. There was a massive stone fireplace with flames flickering inside. The place smelled of mesquite wood and the scents from the winter pasture that they’d brought in with them. There was also the aroma of roasting turkey and pumpkin pie. Someone was apparently getting ready for Thanksgiving.

Her stomach growled, but Collena ignored it. She had a more important task at hand.

Dylan Greer’s office was exactly what she’d expected. Palatial and functional. Horse-themed artwork on the walls. Rich, glossy woods for the floor and desk, and on the desk was a sliver-thin computer monitor and a gleaming silver tray with coffee, raisin wheat toast, biscuits and crystal dishes of various jams and marmalades.

A photograph next to the computer monitor caught Collena’s eye. It was a picture of Dylan holding a baby.

Her baby.

But before she could get a better look, Dylan grabbed the photo and slammed it facedown on his desk. He picked up his phone, punched in some numbers and requested a background check on her.

Which she’d expected. She’d certainly done a thorough check on Dylan.

“Jonah, you can go get your coffee now,” Dylan advised .

The deputy scowled at what was obviously an order, but he headed for the set of interior doors. However, the doors opened before he could get to them.

A woman was in the doorway. Ina, maybe? She was in her late fifties, Collena guessed, and her copper-red hair was cut very short, less than an inch long around her entire head.

“Where’s Adam?” Dylan immediately asked.

“Still asleep. I was about to wake him for breakfast and then give him a bath.” She glared at Collena with piercing stone-gray eyes. “Are you the intruder?”

“Yes.” The woman’s scrutiny suddenly made Collena feel a tad guilty. “I’m sorry that I caused such a fuss.”

The woman made a grunting sound of disapproval.

“Go back to the nursery,” Dylan told his employee. It was another order. “And stay there until you hear from me.”

The woman’s sound of disapproval became one of concern. “What’s going on, Dylan?”

“I’ll fill you in later.” He didn’t say another word until both the woman and the deputy were out of the room and the doors were closed.

“Was that the nanny?” Collena asked.

He paused so long that she didn’t think he would answer. “Yes. Her name is Ruth. If you did a background check on me, then you also know she was my own nanny and someone I trust.”

“Ruth Sayers,” Collena supplied. “Her name did come up.” And she was clean. No criminal record. In fact, not even a traffic violation.

“Just what kind of proof do you think you have about the adoption being illegal?” Dylan asked.

“More than enough.” Because she was feeling light-headed again, Collena sank down into the plush saddle-brown leather chair across from his desk and tugged off her gloves. “As I said I’ve been investigating the Brighton case since August of last year. When I realized just how many babies had been illegally adopted, I asked for help from the pediatric community. I was able to get names of adopted babies, and I compared them to those who had been legally adopted.”

He pushed the silver tray toward her and motioned for her to eat. When he motioned a second time, Collena pinched off a piece of raisin wheat toast and popped it into her mouth. Even though it was cold, it tasted heavenly.

“And you’re saying that Adam’s name came up on that list of adopted babies?” he asked. But he didn’t just ask. It was buried under a mountain of skepticism.

She nodded. “Adam’s name and one hundred and twelve other infant boys. There were a lot of them, and that’s why it’s taken me so long to find my son.”

His jaw turned to iron. He paced a few steps in front of the fireplace, turned and stared at her before taking one of the biscuits, opening it and handing both it and the silver jam spoon to her.

With the hopes that her faintness would go away, Collena smeared some strawberry jam on one half and started to eat. Dylan didn’t say anything until she had finished.

“Adam’s my son,” he insisted. “And I don’t really care what kind of proof you have. You gave him up—”