Christine Pacheco - Hart's Baby

In the sanctuary of her upstairs bedroom, Cassie dropped onto the edge of the bed. In the living room she’d kept a facade of cheerfulness for Margaret’s sake, but eagerly escaped as soon as Billy settled for his afternoon nap.

As stress slithered from Cassie’s shoulders, she pressed a hand over her heart, willing the beat to slow.

The confrontation with Zach had unnerved her completely.

When she’d faced him, she’d fought not to betray how difficult each word was, and worse, her awareness of him as a man.

Zach Hart wore power like an aura. His presence branded the entire house, and she’d been spellbound by it, by him.

“Welcome to the Wind Song Ranch,” he’d said, no emotion behind the words or in his expression. She’d almost imagined the ending to that statement, “Now go home.”

Drinking in fresh oxygen, she felt it burn its way back out.

Cassie’s expectations had been few when she had loaded her fourteen-week-old nephew in the car and headed for Wyoming...few expectations and one hope, that the Harts would live up to their name.

Margaret had heart. But Zach? Cassie wondered if one beat inside his chest.

No, that wasn’t exactly true, she realized, a flush flooding her face. She’d felt the commanding throb of Zach’s heart thud beneath her palm.

He was a flesh and blood man, yet he held all the advantages and left her scrambling for footing.

For a few seconds she contemplated the cowardly route—zipping closed her suitcase and dragging it back downstairs. It would be easier to run and hide. When he’d spoken, Zach’s words had rung with the steel of promise and threat. If his family was hurt, he’d exact the price...from her.

She shuddered, recalling the way his eyes had darkened, from blue to slate.

But what of her family? She was all Billy had left, the only one who could defend him, fight for what he deserved. He’d been through so much, more than any baby should have to endure. In this, Billy was the innocent...she vowed to make Zach remember that.

Before leaving Nebraska, she had spoken to an attorney about trying to adopt Billy. The process still might take months, maybe more, the lawyer had told her. And first she’d have to find out if Chad was his father, and if he’d fight for custody. But if she won...

When she won, she’d be his mother in all senses of the word, and the two of them would have a legal and spiritual bond nothing could sever.

The echo of a masculine footfall on the steps made her pulse jump, missing a beat or two.

Zach.

She knew their rooms were next to each other, his just the door beyond hers, but until now she hadn’t considered all the implications.

Silence thundered. Had he stopped in front of her door? Her eyes closed again, and breath timidly clung to her lungs. She needed to regroup before facing the awesome force of his personality again.

He continued on, away from her room, and she exhaled in a ragged rush. Then a door slammed and a painting on the wall jumped in its frame, taking her confidence with it.

Water rushed through pipes, and she realized he was showering. That meant taking off his shirt and stripping away denim and cotton.

Her mouth dried, but she didn’t dare analyze why: She was in deep—deeper than she’d ever imagined or dreamed.

After offering a silent prayer for strength as well as resolve, she pushed to her feet again. Margaret had planned dinner for four, including Zach’s older brother, Nick.

Nick wasn’t a regular guest, Margaret had said, rather an infrequent one. He lived in Denver with his own family, but he’d been in Cheyenne bidding on a job. The Wind Song wasn’t that far out of his way, as if that was meant to have made Cassie feel better.

She only hoped she had something left to defend a second assault from a Hart brother. Zach had showered, would likely be fortified again before meeting with her. Thank goodness for Margaret’s support. Cassie didn’t know what she would have done without it.

Five minutes later, when silence shrouded the upstairs, she opened her door. Cowardly she checked the hallway before tiptoeing toward the makeshift nursery.

Billy slept soundly, the rise and fall of his steady breaths never failing to amaze her. With a slight smile, she went into the bathroom, where evidence of Zach overwhelmed her.

Steam clung to the mirror like a mystical cloud, and the scent of soap melded with the spice of mountain air cologne. A damp towel draped the tub. She saw his jeans peeking from beneath the laundry hamper’s lid and more—a scrap of material lay on top of them.

Navy blue briefs.

Forcing herself to look away, she placed her makeup kit on the counter, next to the razor he’d left lying there. She moved aside the can of shaving cream, unable to resist the temptation of wiping off the white foam that still clung to the nozzle.

Zach Hart might have been many things, but neat wasn’t among them. Somehow, the small flaw lightened her insides. It gave her more equal footing with him.

Right.

Ignoring the many reminders of Zach in the room, she freshened up, then returned to her room.

Billy started to squirm and whimper, so she made him a bottle and curled up with him on a chair. He settled into her arms, softly and sweetly, taking her away from her concerns. Truth to tell, she needed the distraction.

When the infant was warm, fed and dry, she cuddled him, repeating her promise that he’d never be abandoned again.

As she did almost every day, Cassie counted his perfect fingers and toes. It wasn’t possible for this beautiful baby to be hers to raise and look out for, was it?

The distant reverberation of a doorbell jolted her, and Billy startled, his eyes opening wide. “Well, kiddo, it’s time to meet another uncle.”

Billy kicked. Maybe it was more of a stretch, but Cassie was certain it was in answer to her statement, making him, in her opinion, the smartest baby in the world.

Now all she needed to do was convince Zach of the same thing.

With Billy nestled in the cradle of her arms, Cassie headed downstairs, her tummy tightening with each step she took. The drone of discussion from the living room gave her pause. She heard Zach’s voice over the others and it didn’t take a genius to figure out she and Billy buzzed as the topic of conversation.

If only Zach understood she had no desire to hurt anyone.... But he didn’t. And that meant she had to prove him wrong. She just wished that were easily accomplished.

She stepped inside, and when they saw her, quiet draped over the formal room, like the doom accompanying the words, “The principal wants to see you.”

Her steps faltered, and Zach looked across at her, eyes narrowed.

“So glad you could join us, my dear.” Margaret’s greeting scattered the tension to the corners of the room.

Nick’s eyes, however, glinted dark and cold like his brother’s. A chill chased down Cassie’s spine, despite the lightweight sweater she’d pulled over her silk shirt.

Zach said nothing, but lifted his beer can without taking a drink.

“Nicholas, dear, I’d like to introduce Cassandra Morrison.” Her pause accompanied the regal tilt of her chin. “And the infant she holds may be none other than Chad’s baby.”

“Mother...” Zach warned.

Cassie’s mouth dried.

Zach slammed the can on the table. When he spoke, his tone was as bleak as the future. “You’re making assumptions.”

“Posh,” Margaret retorted. “He has Chad’s nose. Don’t you agree, Nicholas?”

“Mother,” Zach started, “I suggest—”

Margaret waved away the rest of Zach’s protest. “He looks just like all my boys did.”

Nick moved closer, and Cassie noted that the Hart stamp of power didn’t belong exclusively to Zach. Nick was blessed with it, too. She was doubly cursed.