Cowboy's Secret Son

“He was always book smart,” Jared said. He’d have to give his old friend a call. Roscoe had been looking a little under the weather lately. Jared couldn’t convince his foreman to see the doc. Maybe Derek could.

The roar of an engine broke into his thoughts just as a baby blue Mustang drove up to the main house about fifty or so feet away.

“You expecting someone?” Roscoe asked, eyeing the vehicle.

“Not that I know of.” Who’d drive a dang fool car like that onto his ranch?

“Maybe someone else on the hunt for all those greenbacks you got stashed in the bank.”

Jared scowled at his foreman. A few five-times-removed relatives had come out of the woodwork once word of the oil went public. Jared had tried to help until they’d made it clear they hadn’t wanted a leg up, but a perpetual handout. Once he’d cut off the money, they’d disappeared once again.

The car stopped and the engine went quiet. It sat there for several moments until one long, shapely leg, then another, stepped out.

The woman ran her fingers through her hair. The sun gleamed off the blonde locks. Roscoe let out a long, slow whistle.

Jared couldn’t move. He blinked once. Then again.

It couldn’t be. Not her.

She stood still, in her four-inch heels and tailored dress, looking like a city girl who had been dropped into a foreign land. She tucked her short hair behind one ear and hesitated, turning in a circle, taking in the lay of his ranch.

He fought the urge to wash the dirt away and waited, his breath quickening as the lines of her back then the curves of her front came into view. It was her, all right. He didn’t know her name, but what he did know made his libido perk up and his heart thud to attention for the first time in the eighteen months since he’d held her in his arms.

Unable to stop himself, Jared crossed the yard. The closer he got, the more he noticed the fidgety movement of her hands.

At least she couldn’t hide her nerves. Made him feel a bit better, because his damn hands were shaking too.

About ten feet away from her, he paused.

She faced him and lifted her gaze to his.

His breath caught. It was her. She was here. On his land. Exactly like he’d dreamed more times than he could count.

Her cobalt blue eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe it was him.

Well, ditto.

The rumblings of a tractor, the whinny of the horses, the snort of Angel Maker faded into the background. The world melted away; his heartbeat whooshed inside his head.

She blinked and glanced over her shoulder into the vehicle.

Her movement shocked him back to reality. He strode toward her, forcing himself not to hurry too fast.

“I’m surprised,” he said, determined to keep his tone nonchalant.

“As am I,” she said.

Her voice was a bit huskier than he remembered. He studied her face and detected tension around her mouth, redness staining her eyes.

They stared at each other, the awkward silence continuing far too long. What was he supposed to say? I came back to the hotel room but you were gone? Or maybe the more appropriate, So, we slept together a year and a half ago and the earth moved. What’s your name?

At that moment, Velma marched down the steps of the main house, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Not much gave away her age, except her silvered-auburn hair and her devil-may-care curiosity. She wasn’t shy about inserting herself into almost any conversation either.

She shot him a piercing stare and tilted her head. He could see her interest building. A small curse escaped under his breath. His housekeeper was more like his grandmother than anything. She’d worked for the King family as long as Jared could remember. She knew him too well, and unfortunately, she’d developed a sixth sense whenever Jared found himself in a situation that could turn awkward at any moment.

Her gaze alternated between him and their visitor. “Quite a set of wheels, boyo. You must be drooling.”

She sent him that knowing gaze she’d used when she knew he wanted something in the worst way. She had no idea. Unfortunately, Jared could feel the heat flooding his cheeks.

“And who might your friend be?” Velma asked with a satisfied grin, walking boldly over and sticking out a hand to introduce herself.

“I’m Courtney Jamison,” the woman responded. A nervous smile tilted their visitor’s lips.

Courtney Jamison. He let her name settle across his mind. It suited her. It screamed New York and the Waldorf Astoria where they’d met. It definitely didn’t suit the Last Chance Ranch. Not by half.

A cry sounded from the car.

“You have a little one?” Velma asked, her smile lighting as bright as the West Texas sun on a clear day.

“His name is Dylan.” Courtney reached into the backseat, fiddled with something in the car and pulled a baby from the vehicle.

“Almost a year?” Velma asked.

“Nine months,” Courtney said softly, looking straight at Jared.

“A big boy then.”

Nine months. That meant she got pregnant about eighteen months ago. New York.

It couldn’t be. It was just one night. One...

As if in a trance, he closed the distance between him and Courtney. He stared into the little boy’s eyes. One brown. One green. The baby had heterochromia. Just like him.

Jared held out his hand. It shook. Dylan leaned against his mother’s chest and dipped his face into her neck.

“Dylan,” Courtney whispered. “This is your daddy.”

The words struck Jared harder than Angel Maker’s most vicious charge. His mind whirled in denial even as the truth peeked at him from beneath long, baby-fine lashes. He couldn’t deny that he stood face-to-face with the one thing he’d never believed he’d have.

Dylan tilted his head and a smile lit his face. He leaned forward with outstretched hands. Jared bent closer. The baby grabbed his hat and threw it to the ground, chuckling.

“Takes after you, boyo,” Velma said. “That’s plain to see.”

A strange white noise buzzed in Jared’s ears. He shook the static away. “How did you find me?” he asked, barely able to croak out the words.

He didn’t want to say more. Velma and Roscoe both had big ears, and they were obviously curious. He’d be fielding a whole lot of questions before sunset hit anyway.

Jared picked up his hat and held it toward Dylan. He couldn’t take his eyes off the baby. The little guy grabbed the brim and tugged.