Karen Smith - The Cowboy's Secret Baby

“Maybe he’s grown wiser in the last two years,” Sara suggested.

“You’re the forever optimist, aren’t you? But even if that’s true, what does it mean if he stays? I don’t know what he’s going to want from me...from Jordan.”

“Was he angry that you kept Jordan from him?”

“I think the anger was there, but it was underneath something else. I’m not sure what. I think he felt more disappointment than anything. But I explained why I didn’t tell him and that seemed to help.”

“So he’s a reasonable man.”

“I hope so. But to tell you the truth, Sara, I’m just concerned about what he might do next.”

“How can I help?”

“No one can help. I’m just going to take this day by day and see what happens next.”

“If you want Jase to step in—”

“No!” Marissa blurted out. “I know he’s protective of me and Jordan, but I have to handle this on my own.”

“Not on your own, Marissa. We’re here for you—remember that.”

Yes, they were here for her. But when Marissa examined her heart, she knew she and Ty had to come to terms with his fatherhood on their own.

Marissa gazed down at Jordan again and knew she didn’t want to share him. She didn’t want to lose any time with him. She didn’t want to turn any part of his welfare—or her heart—over to a cowboy who might leave again.

Chapter Three

Ty drove for a while—not any place in particular, just on the back roads, circling the Cozy C. He was used to driving long distances from rodeo to rodeo. He was used to a lot of things.

But he wasn’t used to holding a baby in his arms. His baby.

As daylight grew dimmer, he arrived back at the ranch, parked on the gravel lot near the house, then went in the kitchen door. In a hurry, he let the screen door slam behind him.

His uncle was at the stove, frying eggs. “I thought I’d go on and eat. You didn’t tell me if you’d be back for supper.”

He hadn’t known when he’d be back. “I’m not hungry,” Ty mumbled.

His uncle gave him one of those looks like the ones he’d given him when he was a teenager and he’d been out too late. “You’re always hungry. If you ain’t got no appetite, then something’s wrong. Spill it, boy.”

Searching for the right words, Ty started with, “We have to make the Cozy C vacation ranch work.” He paced the kitchen. “We can make sure the word gets out about it from Sacramento to San Diego. The best strategy is to make sure those cabins are what people want to live in for two days or a week. We can’t just sit here and hope people find us. We have to spread the word somehow, just like a rodeo promoter does. In fact, maybe that’s the route we should go. I have a lot of rodeo contacts who would recommend the Cozy C.”

His uncle made sure his sunny-side up eggs were just right. “So what put a burr in your jeans now? We’re not even finished with the cabins yet.”

“We will be by Thanksgiving. I want to be open for business by January 1.”

Eli glanced toward Ty’s knee. “Are you sure you’re going to be ready for that, especially if you intend to take out trail rides?”

“Another six weeks and I’ll be as strong as I ever was.” He pulled out a chair but didn’t sit. Instead, he went to stand beside his uncle. “You’ve told me before that the Cozy C is my legacy. Well, I just found out tonight I have a son, and I want it to be his legacy, too.”

Ty often saw his uncle silent, but never speechless. Now the older man looked shell-shocked as if he’d witnessed an explosion and didn’t know what to do about it.

“Let’s get your eggs and bacon on a dish and I’ll tell you about it,” Ty offered.

When they were seated at the table, after Ty had made himself a bacon-and-tomato sandwich, he began to bring his uncle up to speed. “Remember I told you I ran into Marissa Lopez?”

“Yeah. And I told you to stay away from her.”

“Too late for that,” Ty said matter-of-factly. “Two years ago after a wedding, she and I—” He slashed his hand through the air. “You know. Anyway, that baby you told me about? It turns out he’s mine.”

His uncle dipped his toast into the second egg, breaking the yolk. “I guess since you’re telling me about it, since you’re thinking about the Cozy C as an inheritance, you want to do something about being a dad.”

“I held him for the first time tonight, Unc. I never felt anything quite like that. He’s my flesh and blood. I have to make a future, not only for myself but for him, too.”

His uncle swiped up more yolk with the crust of his toast. “How does the young’un’s mom fit into this plan?”

Pushing his plate away, Ty shook his head. “I don’t know how any of it fits together yet. She seems pretty self-reliant. She’s working for Jase Cramer at Raintree Winery. Her momma died and she’s got no family left, but The Mommy Club helped her.”

Ty laid out what Marissa had told him about the organization.

“I’ve heard of it,” Eli said. “They’ve had some goings-on in town. A Thanksgiving food drive is coming up. Lots of people talking about it. That’s a good thing.”

It was, and it seemed Marissa might be as involved as her friends because she felt she had to give back. He understood that, but he still didn’t understand why she hadn’t told him about Jordan.

“When are you going to see her again?” Eli asked.

“I’m not sure. I want to think about all of it.”

“Apparently you’ve been thinking about the Cozy C, but not about what you’re going to do with your son.”

Maybe that was true. Maybe Ty felt if he planned for his own future, he’d be planning for his son’s, and somehow Jordan would fit into his life.

“I want to try to work out visitation with her first. If we can’t come to terms, then I guess I’ll have to see a lawyer.”

“You don’t want to bring a lawyer into it if you don’t have to,” Eli agreed. “No better way to get two people on opposite sides of the fence.”

Would Marissa work with him to decide what was best for Jordan?

“When am I going to meet my nephew?” Eli asked in a tone that said he wanted an answer now.

“I promise you’ll meet him soon.” Ty meant every word. He never broke a promise.

His uncle nodded because he knew that was true.

Ty’s dad had broken too many promises, and his uncle realized Ty was determined to be a different kind of man than his father ever was.

* * *

On Saturday, Ty fully expected Marissa to be at home. But when he stopped at her apartment, he found no one was there. Sure, he should have called first, but he didn’t want her avoiding him when she saw his name on caller ID. Did he really think she’d do that? Well, for two years she hadn’t told him he had a son. He wasn’t sure what she’d do.

Standing outside the door to her apartment, he dialed her cell phone number, fully expecting to get a message. But she answered on the second ring, and of course, she had seen who was calling.

“Ty? I’m at work. Can I call you back later?”

For some reason he didn’t want to wait till later. He’d already missed too much time with his son. He wanted to make plans as soon as he could.

“How about if I come there and we can talk for a few minutes? I won’t take up much of your time.”

When she hesitated, he asked, “Where’s Jordan?”

“He’s with a friend, Kaitlyn Preston.”

Kaitlyn Preston. He’d seen the name somewhere. Suddenly a doctor’s shingle came to mind. Dr. Kaitlyn Preston had an office in the same building as his orthopedist. Then he remembered something else. Marissa had mentioned Kaitlyn in association with The Mommy Club.