Accidental Father

Jake tore through the files behind the desk out front, found nothing, then berating himself even more, went to the back room where old files were stored. He’d never done anything like this before. It was stupid, and sappy and sophomoric. But he couldn’t stop himself.

A few minutes later, he was staring hard at the police photo in his hand. What in hell had Sarah ever seen in this guy?

The cocky grin and pretty-boy features that stared back at him reminded Jake of the young studs the girls from his old high school used to go nuts over. Lots of rock-band hair and more brass than the New York Philharmonic.

He scanned the accompanying description. Vincent Charles Harper had been a white male, five foot eleven, with sandy brown hair, no distinguishing marks and…

And information he hadn’t even been looking for jumped out at him. Brown eyes.

Jake’s heart broke into a full gallop. Slowly, he slid the file back into the cabinet.

He remembered enough about a genetics class he’d taken in college to know that two brown-eyed parents could still have a blue-eyed child. But at the same time, Kylie had his coloring and had been born nine months after he’d been with Sarah. That was just too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence.

Kylie Harper was his daughter.

The wind kicked him full in the face that evening as Jake took Blackjack on a flat-out run across the long, pale pasture, inhaling the energy around him and letting the stallion’s hoofbeats drum out the nagging thoughts in his head. Chokecherries, pines and golden aspens blurred in his side vision. The cloudless blue sky above all but disappeared. They didn’t slow down until they’d gone nearly as far as wooden posts and barbed wire would permit. Then Jake reined the horse in and eased him into a blowing, cooling-down walk.

He couldn’t yet see the big white main house where Jess and Casey Dalton lived with their little daughter. But corrals and outbuildings lay ahead, and to his far right, a row of pines marked the long access road to the ranch.

Jake frowned as he pointed Blackjack toward it and the barn beyond, realizing that the ride had given him only a temporary respite from his tension. He was as churned up now as he’d been this morning when he’d read Vince Harper’s description.

He was almost to the road when two riders cut through the trees on horseback.

With a jolt, Jake recognized Sarah and Maggie Dalton, both astride chestnut mounts with white blazes.

“Jake! Hi!” Maggie called as they rode toward him. Both women were dressed in jeans and boots, but while Maggie wore a navy blue sweatshirt, Sarah wore a faded denim jacket over her white blouse. Both collars were up and her top two buttons were undone, creating a deep V from her long, smooth neck to the top of her chest. She rode well.

“Hello,” Sarah said with a cautious smile.

Jake smiled back and returned the greeting, thinking that she was probably wondering if he was still irritated because she’d refused his invitation to have coffee. Well, yes, he was. He was also irritated because he was sleeping on a medieval rack, acting like a jealous kid because of her, and being kept in the dark about the daughter he knew was his.

But this was another opportunity to smooth the friction between them and gain her trust, and he wasn’t going to get impatient this time and blow it.

“Starting your ride or finishing?” Maggie asked.

“Finishing. I was just heading back.” He relaxed in the saddle, looping his reins around the saddle horn. Underneath, his blood pumped hard. “Nice day.”

“And if you believe the forecasters,” Maggie said, “tomorrow could be even better. I was supposed to ride with Ross, but he apparently got busy so I invited Sarah to join me.” She laughed. “She brought me an instruction sheet. I’m going to attempt to make a quilt.”

“You’ll do fine,” Jake said, then remembered their phone conversation last night. “Should you be riding?”

“According to Doc, I can do anything I normally did.” She shrugged. “I’ve always ridden. Now that I know about the baby, I’ll take it a lot easier, though.”

“That’s good.” A flock of noisy blackbirds sailed past them and landed some distance away in a field of winter oats. Jake gave them a cursory glance before continuing. “How would you feel about staying on for a while?” he asked. “Not as a deputy, but as the office manager. I never did get around to considering anyone for the position. Joe’s agreed to work full-time, and I’ll hire a part-timer to take his place.”

Maggie broke into a beaming smile. “I’d love it. Until the baby comes, there really isn’t much to keep me occupied.” She turned to include Sarah in the conversation. “Except quilting, if I can get the hang of it.”

“You will,” Sarah assured her.

“Wait, now,” Jake said. “Before you accept, see what Ross thinks.”

“Ross thinks I should be in a wheelchair with nurses attending me twenty-four hours a day. In fact, he doesn’t even want me riding. Which could be why he’s been ‘detained.’ He probably thought if he stayed away, I wouldn’t go.”

“Then maybe your staying on isn’t a good idea. I don’t want any trouble with your husband.” For a variety of reasons, Jake thought.

“Don’t worry. He’ll get used to the idea.”

Almost as though he’d been summoned, Ross cantered his buckskin-colored horse through the same section of lodgepole pines the women had emerged from, and rode toward them.

A feeling that was half-eagerness and half-vulnerability moved through Jake—the same knotted feeling he had whenever his path crossed Ross’s. It seemed to intensify out here with the Dalton homestead so near, and Brokenstraw cattle grazing in the distance.

Ross reined his horse in. He was a lean, fit, sandy-haired man, and sat tall in the saddle. Beneath his tan Stetson, his deep blue eyes were worried as he addressed his wife, but he tried to hide his disapproval behind a smile.

“Thought you were going to wait for me,” he said.

“Sorry, but it got late, and I didn’t want to waste the sunshine. We won’t have many more seventy-degree days.”

“I know, but…” Ross seemed to remember his manners then, and glanced at Sarah. “Nice to see you, Sarah.” His gaze slid to Jake, the smile flagging a little. “Afternoon, Sheriff.”

“Ross.” Jake couldn’t say if Ross’s reaction was personal, or if the man’s long history with the former sheriff had turned him off law enforcement in general. But there was always a hint of dislike in Ross’s eyes when they met. If it was personal, their relationship was destined to get even more strained when Ross learned who Jake was.

“Excuse us for a minute?” Ross asked. “Maggie and I need to talk about something.”

“Sure,” Sarah said.

“No problem,” Jake returned at the same time. He didn’t mind at all. He’d been looking forward to getting Sarah alone.

Still, Jake’s gaze followed the newlyweds as they rode their horses to a dying willow tree, as if some genetic link made it impossible for him to look away. Then Ross brought his horse alongside Maggie’s to kiss her, and common decency made Jake turn away.

He was shocked to see what could only be called longing in Sarah’s eyes when she, too, glanced away from the intimate scene.

Jealousy cut through him, stark and powerful. Was that yearning he’d seen in her eyes for Ross? Did Sarah have a thing for Maggie’s husband?

Without thinking it through, without weighing the consequences of his actions, Jake walked his horse closer to Sarah’s and stared into her expectant brown eyes. Then he asked, point-blank, “Is Kylie my daughter, Sarah?”

Chapter 4

Sarah’s eyes widened in shock, but Jake could see fear there as well. She sent an anxious glance toward Maggie and Ross. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about paternity. You, me—getting it on beside that little creek the night—”

In a heartbeat, fear and surprise became outrage. “Getting it on?” she repeated, her dark eyes flashing. “Well, thank you very much. If I didn’t feel cheap before, I certainly do now.” With a click of her tongue and a quick nudge to the mare’s ribs, the horse broke into a gallop.

Snapping Blackjack’s reins, Jake galloped across the pasture after her, damning himself for letting his control slip again. He came up alongside her, talking to her frozen profile since she refused to look at him. “Sarah, I’m sorry. That was frustration talking. I didn’t mean to imply that our being together was anything— Will you just hold up a minute?”

“No!”

“She has black hair and blue eyes, Sarah,” Jake persisted. “She didn’t get that coloring from you or your ex-husband. And she was born in April.”