Barbara Daille - The Cowboy's Little Surprise

She forced herself not to recoil from the venom in his tone. “ No. Nobody—” Thinking of the confidences she had always shared with her best friend, she choked off her automatic response.

“And what have you told your boy? My boy?”

“Don’t call him that.” Her heart thudded at his easy assumption. “Robbie’s my son.”

“And mine. But we covered that already. Let’s move on to something new. Why didn’t you contact me? You must have known you were pregnant before I left town. Hell, you probably knew before graduation.”

“What if I did? Why would I think you’d want to hear the result of our one-night stand?”

Her breath caught in her throat at what she had just inadvertently called her son.

She couldn’t let Cole reduce her to this.

All her life, she’d been the straitlaced, logical, rational Tina that Ally always teasingly encouraged to loosen up. All her life, except one time with Cole. A time she could never regret, since it had given her the greatest gift she had ever received.

But she needed to rely on the logical, rational Tina now. She couldn’t let her emotions get in the way. She had to protect her son.

The reminder allowed her to breathe deeply and evenly again. It helped her to stay calm. “After our weekend together, you made it clear you weren’t interested in me. Why would you care that I was going to have a baby?”

“Because it wasn’t just yours.” The muscles in his neck tightened as he swallowed hard. “Did you ever plan to tell me?”

His question vibrated with restrained emotion. The lines around his eyes deepened as if it had hurt him to ask the question. As if he were bracing himself for her reply.

An unwanted burst of compassion filled her.

She forced herself to look away and harden her heart. Where was his compassion when she’d needed it?

She glanced into the truck’s rear seat. Scott sat flipping the pages of a coloring book. “If you had stayed in town,” she murmured, measuring her words, “there might have been a chance you’d have found out then.”

He laughed harshly. “You’re in the wrong profession, Tina. You should’ve become a politician—except you’d have to practice maintaining eye contact. All right. Forget the double-talk. Forget I even asked. The point is, I know now. And you can just keep the news to yourself.”

“I need to tell my grandparents.”

“But nobody else.” He shifted his Stetson and ran his hand through his hair, then stared off into the distance. “I’ll need some time before we start telling other folks.”

“I didn’t plan to tell anyone else.”

“Yeah, that’s obvious,” he said, his tone cold. “But I sure do.” When she gasped, he narrowed his eyes. “What? Did you think I’d just walk away from this?”

This.

Forget watching what she said. Forget compassion. Now his words, tossed out so offhandedly, struck at her deepest fear.

“This what ?” she demanded. “This confrontation? This situation? This child that’s my life—not yours? I’ll tell you the truth, flat-out straight, as Jed would say. Yes, I thought you would walk away. That’s always been your style, hasn’t it? And I want you to go. There’s no reason for you to come back.”

“Except that I’ve got a job here. And,” he added, his voice dangerously soft, “now I’ve got other obligations.”

A chill ran through her. She wrapped her arms around her middle. “You have no obligations. Not as far as I’m concerned.”

“And the boy?” he said. “What about where he’s concerned?”

“I’ll take care of Robbie.”

Yet, how could she do that completely on her own?

She had spent so much of her life with unanswered questions about her own parents...why they didn’t want her, why they didn’t love her, why they had left her behind for Abuela to raise.

Eventually, Robbie would have questions about his daddy, too. Questions only Cole could answer.

As if he sensed her uncertainty, as if he wanted to take advantage of her—again—he said flatly, “I couldn’t have fulfilled my obligations in the past, since I never knew about the child. But now I do, I’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

“I won’t let you—”

“‘Let?’” He shoved his hat back on his head and leaned so close she could almost count each and every dark lash rimming his eyes. “You’re not letting me do anything. And I’m not waiting for you to give your permission. Considering your track record, who knows how long that might take.” His voice was low, deepened by emotion again. “I’m going to get to know my son.”

* * *

ON HIS FIRST day of work, Cole parked outside the corral and walked toward Jed’s barn. He couldn’t keep from looking over toward the hotel. Not that he expected to see...anyone. At this early hour, the sun had barely begun to rise.

What he did see was a lighted window in the kitchen, where Paz was mostly likely getting things in order for her day. Jed and everyone else in the place ought to be sleeping.

He found the barn almost empty. Of humans, anyhow. The stalls were filled to capacity, as they always had been. Jed kept enough stock on hand to accommodate all his men and a hotel full of guests.

Half-inside one of the stalls, with his back to him, stood a man holding a shovel.

Cole paused in the doorway. Five years earlier, when he’d left the ranch without giving notice to Jed, he had walked away from Pete Brannigan and the other wranglers, too. No telling how any of them would take the news of his return to work here.

But when the man turned, Cole saw only a smile. He nodded at Pete. “Don’t tell me Jed makes his ranch manager muck out stalls.”

“Hey, Cole.” Pete set the shovel aside and crossed the space between them to offer his hand. “He told me you were back in town and starting work today.”

“That must’ve come as a surprise.”

“What? Jed hiring someone on and telling me after the fact? No surprise there. He might call himself retired, but he’s still got a strong hand on the reins.”

“Always did have.”

“True. Hang on a minute.” Pete went into the small room partitioned off as an office and returned with a hammer and an old tin can filled with nails. “There’s a pair of gloves on the workbench in the tack room. Go grab ’em.” As they made their way outside, he added, “We’ve got some rails out by the corral that need patching. It’ll get you limbered up for this afternoon. I’ll be sending you out to the south border to check on the stock. You’ll need to take a look at the fencing there, too.”

“Trouble?”

Pete shook his head. “Just maintenance and some overly adventurous cattle. You know the drill.”

At the corral, Cole wrestled a split and warped rail into submission while Pete hammered it into place.

“As for Jed and his tight rein,” Pete said, “I wouldn’t have it any other way. He might be past seventy, but he’s still sharper than a tack. In case you were wondering.”

“Should I be?”

Pete shrugged. “No idea. Just throwing that out there for old time’s sake.” They moved on to the next rail. “Now, your return to town, that did come as a surprise. I always figured you for having itchy feet. But maybe you scratched them enough.”

“Maybe.” Just the thought of tying himself down permanently in Cowboy Creek made him want to head out of town.

On feet that weren’t itchy, only damned cold.

Pete swung the hammer a final time, sending the nail into place. “Let’s head in, and I’ll take you through the barn. Jed wants you working the corral, giving lessons to the guests as needed.”

“Then I’ll have to get familiar with everything you’ve got.”