Rita Herron - Cowboy in the Extreme

“Pack a bag for you and Lucy,” Brandon said, following her inside. “You’re going to my place for the night.”

Panic streaked through Kim. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Brandon.”

His jaw hardened, the vein at the base of his neck throbbing the way it always had when he was trying to control his anger. “This is not up for debate. I told Johnny I’d take you two to my ranch so you’d be safe for the night, and I intend to keep my word.”

Their gazes locked, and she remembered other promises he’d made to her. One in particular. The night they’d first made love, he’d promised to love her and take care of her forever.

A promise he hadn’t kept.

Was he remembering that, too?

“I’ll talk to Johnny—”

“I’m not arguing.” He jerked his thumb toward the house. “You either pack a bag, or I’ll do it for you.”

Kim had forgotten how bullheaded Brandon could be. That when he set his mind to something he charged after it and refused to let anything or anybody stand in his way.

Just like he had when he’d decided to better himself and buy his own ranch. Not that that had been a hard choice. Ranching was in his blood just as it was her brother’s and in hers. But with his awful childhood, he hadn’t had it easy. In fact the cards had been stacked against him.

Old hurts stabbed at her. She’d wanted them to work together to build a home and a ranch. But he’d chosen Marty to do those things with.

No. There was no way she could spend the night in Brandon’s house, not in the place he’d shared with his wife.

“I appreciate the offer, Brandon, but you can’t tell me what to do anymore. Lucy and I will be fine here.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “You’d rather face Carter alone if he returns?”

At this point, she didn’t know if she was more afraid of Carter or Brandon. Carter had a temper, and if he was coming for Lucy and she opposed him, he might hurt her. After all, he’d had five long years for his anger to fester.

But he didn’t have the power over her that Brandon had.

Then again, she didn’t know how Brandon would react when he finally learned the truth about Lucy.

He had a bad temper, too. And now he had money and power....

“Please, just go, Brandon. I’ve taken care of Lucy all these years by myself. I can do it now.”

He twisted his mouth sideways the way he used to do when he was working his thoughts to make a point. “Really? Then you and Lucy have visited Carter?”

She shook her head. “No.” Carter hadn’t wanted to see her. And jail was no place for a little girl.

Brandon gripped her arms. “Then he’s not going to be happy with you when he arrives, is he?” Brandon’s gruff voice rose a notch, and Lucy suddenly stirred.

“Mommy?” Lucy rolled over and looked at them. Her eyes widened with fear at the sight of Brandon gripping her arms. “Don’t hurt my mommy!”

She jumped off the sofa and threw herself at Brandon, slamming her fists into Brandon’s legs. “Stop it, don’t hurt my mommy!”

BRANDON’S HEART CLENCHED at the terror in the little girl’s cries, and he immediately released Kim. Dear God, Lucy thought he was going to hit her mother.

Shame engulfed him, memories of his own childhood flashing back. His daddy beating his mama. His sister’s screams of terror. Him in the middle, trying to protect them both.

Kim stooped down to pull Lucy away. “It’s okay, Lucy. He wasn’t hurting me.”

“But he yelled at you.” Lucy’s lower lip trembled as Kim picked her up; then she rubbed her teary eyes and looked up at Brandon.

Brandon forced his hands to hang limply by his sides, determined to prove to the child that he wouldn’t hurt her or her mother.

But his chest clenched when he looked into Lucy’s big green eyes.

Pale green eyes that looked just like his own.

He staggered back, shock bolting through him as the truth hit him.

Lucy wasn’t Carter’s little girl.

She was his.

Chapter Three

The truth echoed in Brandon’s head over and over as if he’d been sucker punched.

Lucy was his.... Lucy was his.... He had a daughter....

A daughter he’d never known about.

Because Kim had kept it from him.

The anguish and rage hit him so hard that Brandon staggered backward, then gripped the sofa edge to keep from reaching for Kim and shaking her. How could she have done this to him?

For years he’d forced himself to accept the fact that he’d never have a family. Never have a son or daughter of his own because he was too afraid he’d pass on that horrific genetic disorder. Krabbe’s Leukodystrophy, the doctor called it. The bone marrow transplant had miraculously given her a few extra years, but she had still suffered.

And for four years now, he’d had a living, breathing little girl who was his blood kin. A normal child.

One he’d made with Kim.

A child he would have loved and spoiled and been there for if only Kim had let him.

Bitterness filled him, and he fisted his hands by his sides, his body trembling with the effort to control his anger.

Kim cradled Lucy to her as if she sensed that rage, as if she feared he was going to snatch her away. But her eyes also flashed with resignation as if she’d known this moment would eventually come and had dreaded it.

“Brandon—”

Their gazes locked, the air vibrating with the cloying scent of lies. “She’s m—”

Kim cut him off with a choked whisper. “Yes.”

That one word ripped a hole in his heart. “How could you?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Why?”

“You… We…” She nodded toward Lucy, her voice quavering. “This is not the time to discuss it, Brandon.”

Dammit, it sure as hell was time to discuss it. It was past time. Fury surged through him, more powerful than he’d ever felt. He wanted to shout at Kim and demand to know how she could have left him in the dark about his own child.

He wanted to pull Lucy into his arms and hug her and make up for lost time.

But Lucy clawed at her mother in fear, and he forced himself to temper his reaction.

Still, his heart was pounding, and he had to clear his throat twice to make it work. “You kept this from me all these years and now you don’t want to talk about it?”

Even though he’d tried, his voice still sounded harsh and loud in the hollow silence, and Lucy whipped her little head around, her eyes startled, scared.

His gut tightened with remorse. The poor little girl, his little girl, had been terrified of an intruder, and now he was adding to her fears.

He took a step forward, aching to drag her in his arms and hold her, to assure her that he would never hurt her. That he hadn’t been around the past four years because he hadn’t known she was his. That he would love her and take care of her and tuck her into bed at night and teach her to ride, and be the father he should have been all along.

If Kim hadn’t deprived him of it.

Images of the years he’d missed crawled through his mind, a blinding haze of pictures of Lucy. Lucy as a newborn swaddled in a pink blanket, her first laugh, the day she’d learned to crawl, her first step, then birthdays and Christmases—all memories Kim had that he’d missed.

God, what had she told Lucy about him?

“Mommy?” Lucy said in a frightened whisper.

Kim held her daughter tight, gently rocking Lucy in her arms. “It’s okay, sugar. This is Johnny’s friend Brandon. Remember, you watched him do trick riding at the rodeo and wanted to learn to ride like him?”

Lucy nodded, but her wide-eyed look made Brandon feel like the worst kind of heel.

And resurrected memories of how terrified his own sister had been of their father.