The Maverick's Ready-Made Family

As if in response to his name, the little boy looked up from the egg he was smearing on his tray and smiled, and Clay actually felt his heart squeeze inside his chest.

Maybe he hadn’t thought too much about having children before Delia showed up at his door with Bennett, and maybe he’d denied—instinctively, and perhaps a little too vehemently—that he could be the baby’s father, and maybe his offer to let Delia and the child stay with him had been made more grudgingly than willingly. But living with a woman and her child, even temporarily, had been a huge adjustment for Clay, especially considering that his relationship with Delia had been, by mutual agreement, a strictly no-strings arrangement.

But a child wasn’t just a string. The possibility that he might actually be the boy’s father had felt like a noose around his neck. A noose that grew tighter with every day that passed until he woke up one morning to the sound of a screaming baby and realized that Delia was gone. He’d almost accepted that he might be Bennett’s father and had started to think about the practicalities of shared parenting, then suddenly, there was no one around to share any of the responsibilities.

Delia had the benefit of nine months to come to terms with the fact that she would have a baby—nine months to prepare for the arrival of her child and the realities of motherhood. But she’d shown up on his doorstep without any kind of warning and, not even giving him nine days to accept the fact that he was a father, ran off, abandoning the baby into his care. And with the realization that she was well and truly gone, the noose had pulled so taut that Clay could hardly breathe.

It was Bennett’s frantic cries that had finally penetrated the chaotic thoughts swirling through his brain, that made him realize he didn’t have the luxury of panicking or falling part because there was a tiny person who needed him. And with Delia well and truly gone, there was no doubt that Bennett needed him, so Clay stepped up to the plate.

The first time Bennett’s tiny fist had curled around his finger, Clay had been lost. The wave of affection for the little boy had knocked him flat with all the subtlety of a freight train. And the first time that Bennett had smiled at him, just a few weeks later, Clay had vowed to his son that he would never let Delia take him away. By the time he got the report from the lab, he’d realized that the DNA results didn’t even matter.

It was his mother who had encouraged him to open the envelope, anyway. Ellie Traub had accepted the baby more quickly and easily than he had done. In fact, from day one, she’d positively doted on the child, which was why she’d insisted he had to know what legal status he had with respect to the little boy. She was as thrilled as she was relieved to have scientific proof that Bennett was her grandson—and none too happy when Clay first told her of his plans to leave town with the baby.

Truth be told, Clay had vacillated for weeks before making the decision. As much as he wanted to get out of Rust Creek Falls for a while—and away from the nosy gossipers who liked to offer unsolicited suggestions to the new dad—he’d worried that he wouldn’t be able to manage on his own with the baby. His mother had been an enormous help, offering not just her own tried-and-true baby care advice, but giving him hands-on assistance whenever he was feeling overwhelmed. Which, over the first few months, was quite frequently.

As if on cue, the phone he’d tucked into his jacket pocket began to vibrate. He checked the display and smiled as he connected the call.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Where’s your brother?”

He glanced across the table. “Why are you calling my cell if you’re looking for Forrest?”

The brother in question shook his head and pushed away from the table, pointing to his watch and miming his intention to drive into town.

“Because he doesn’t answer his phone,” Ellie complained.

“Maybe he’s driving,” Clay suggested.

“Maybe,” she allowed. “Or maybe he’s ignoring my calls.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because he hasn’t been very communicative since he got back from Iraq.”

Watching his brother make a hasty escape from the dining room, he couldn’t deny that was true. “He just needs some time, Mom.”

“I’ve tried to be patient,” Ellie said. “But I need to know that he’s doing okay.”

“He is,” Clay assured her. “I promise.”

“Well, I want to see for myself, and I need a grandbaby fix, so your dad and I are thinking about making a trip to Thunder Canyon this weekend.”

“We’d love to see you.”

“Good. I’ve already spoken to Allaire. She promised to pull some strings to get the private dining room at D.J.’s Rib Shack for the whole family. Friday night at seven.”

“That works for me,” Clay told her.

“Make sure it works for your brother.”

“I’ll try,” he said, unwilling to make any promises on Forrest’s behalf.

“I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with that,” she allowed. “Now tell me how my grandson’s doing.”

Clay was happy to regale his mother with details about Bennett’s growth and development and everything else he’d been doing over the past few weeks.

He didn’t tell Ellie that the little boy seemed to have developed a major crush on their landlady at Wright’s Way—because he was afraid that Bennett wasn’t the only one.

Chapter Two

Antonia usually waited until most of the boarders had left before she started clearing the tables, and when she returned to the dining room today, she saw that aside from Clay and his son the room was completely empty. As she began to stack plates, she could tell that Clay was on the phone, and though she wasn’t trying to listen in, she couldn’t help overhearing bits and pieces of his conversation.

And then she heard him say, “I love you, too.”

The words, spoken with easy affection, made her pause with a handful of cutlery in her fist. But before she could even begin to speculate about who might be on the other end of the line, he added, “Mom,” and she let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.

It wasn’t any of her business, of course. And she really hadn’t intended to eavesdrop. But when she glanced over as he disconnected the call, his gaze met hers and she knew that she’d been busted. Her cheeks filled with color.

He pushed his chair back as she picked up the stack of plates. “Let me get those for you.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

“They’ve got to be heavy.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “I’ve been working on this ranch since I was a kid. Before I got pregnant, I was mucking out stalls and training horses. I think I can handle a stack of plates.”

“You’ve been carting plates and platters from the kitchen since 6:00 a.m.,” he pointed out. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute?”

“Because these dishes won’t put themselves in the dishwasher.”

Bennett banged his cup on his tray, then held it out to her.

“I think somebody wants more juice.” Just a couple of weeks earlier, Clay had told her that he’d introduced the little boy to apple juice diluted with sterile water. Since then, Antonia had ensured she always had some on hand. “Can I get him a refill?”

“Sure,” Clay agreed.

The baby smiled at her as she took his cup, and her heart melted.

“Coming right up,” she promised.

While she was in the kitchen refilling Bennett’s drink, Clay gathered up the rest of the dishes still on the table.

“Are you trying to get me fired?” she asked, when she returned with the juice.

“I don’t think you’ll lose your job because you let someone else carry a few plates into the kitchen,” he chided.

He was right, of course, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that she was used to doing things for herself—she preferred doing things for herself. And she’d learned a long time ago that if she didn’t depend on anyone else, she didn’t have to worry about being disappointed.