Claiming The Cowgirl's Baby

Turning into the parking lot of a truck stop, he parked in the farthest corner. Stiff-armed, fingers bloodless as he gripped the steering wheel, he pressed back against the seat.

“Shut up!” he yelled at the cell phone. He wanted to turn it off. He wanted to slam it against the concrete and drive over it with his pickup. He wanted his life back. The damn phone pinged again. Another text. Wait...from Pippa?

Breathing like he’d just run a forty-yard dash, he opened her text. Standing her up? Blowing her off? He clicked over to voice mail. He had multiple missed calls from...what did he call them now? The Barrons. He’d refer to them as he always had. He couldn’t wrap his head around what else they were at this point in time. Kade listened to Pippa’s voice mail and winced. He’d blanked out about meeting her for lunch. Completely.

He hated texting. His thumbs were broad, unwieldy when it came to hitting the virtual letters but he didn’t trust his voice. Thank goodness for autocorrect.

I totally messed up. Bad morning. I’m sorry. Really really sorry.

The big diesel engine of his truck rumbled as he stared out the windshield trying to marshal his emotions. Kade ignored the phone when it rang. It stopped after three rings. His text program dinged almost immediately, and he glanced at the message.

Will you please answer the phone so we can talk? What happened? I’d like to help if I can.

Pippa couldn’t. How could anyone? He slammed his fists against the steering wheel. His mother had known. The whole damn time. She’d known who his father was. Had known the people he worked for were his half brothers. The sense of betrayal clawed at him, gnawed on his bones with teeth-jarring viciousness.

His phone rang again. He stared at the caller ID. Pippa. Accepting the call, he didn’t say anything. Had nothing to say.

“Kade? Are you there?” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “What happened? I know you were supposed to meet with Chance this morning.” Her voice trailed off but he remained silent. With a quick intake of breath, she gasped out, “Oh, no! Did he fire you? That’s... They... That’s despicable. After everything you’ve done at the ranch, after all the improvements, after...after...” She stopped and inhaled. “I’m so sorry, Kade. I can try to talk to them.”

And she could talk to them. She was part of their social class. He knew she’d gone to school with the twins, Chase and Cash. Grew up knowing all of the brothers. His brothers. Half brothers, he amended. And wasn’t that a kick in the ass. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the headrest.

Feeling exhausted, he huffed out a breath. He didn’t need Pippa to fight his battles. He didn’t need or want anyone involved in this very personal decision. He hadn’t been fired, not outright. In fact, the Crown B could be his, lock, stock and barrel. “You don’t understand, Pippa. It’s not really like that. This is something—”

He stopped speaking. This really wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. Not to her. Not to anyone. Not yet. It was too personal and he couldn’t talk about it until he figured out what he was going to do. “Never mind, Pippa. Look, I’m sorry about lunch. You can’t help, but thanks. Just leave it be. Please.” So far, so good. He could finish this conversation without losing it. “I need to go. I’ll...just...ah, later, Pippa. Bye.”

Clicking off his phone, he leaned back against the headrest. He could get everything he’d ever wanted. All he had to do was accept the callous edict of a dead man.

Two (#u235dbdaa-af24-503c-afca-0e21ab3205ce)

Pippa stared at her phone. Kade had very politely hung up on her without her getting another word in. What was going on? Before she could contemplate the situation, the waitress appeared again. If she didn’t eat something, Pippa would pay for it later. She ordered then headed to the ladies’ room. There was a line, and when she returned, her salad was waiting for her.

Still trying to decide what to do about Kade, Pippa ate and people-watched. That’s when she recognized the five men occupying a nearby table. The last time she’d seen all five Barron brothers together had been at Cash’s wedding. They were all incredibly successful. Clay was a US senator. Cord ran the family’s oil company. Chance headed up a huge law firm. Chase normally lived in Las Vegas, Hollywood or Nashville as head of the family’s entertainment empire. She seldom saw Cash, though he lived in Oklahoma City. He was president of the security company in charge of safeguarding all the rest of the family’s enterprises.

“So what are we going to do?” Chance sounded glum and Pippa stilled. It was rude to eavesdrop but instinct had her skulking behind the arrangement of plants between her table and theirs to remain unnoticed.

“We can’t make him accept.” Clay shrugged and Pippa wished she could see his face. Who were they talking about?

“It’s not like we hadn’t figured it out,” Chase added. “We’ve all hinted to Kade that we knew.”

Wait...what? She was beyond confused now and waved away the waitress who was approaching with the iced water pitcher in her hand.

Cord glanced around the restaurant and Pippa ducked down as he spoke. “Leave it to the old man to screw up things all the way from the grave.”

A waitress arrived to take their orders and no one spoke for a few minutes after her departure. It was Cash who reopened the conversation. “How did you expect him to react? Jump up and down for joy? The guy works for us. For the old man. Never once did Dad treat him as anything but an employee. Put yourselves in Kade’s boots. He’s told he’s a bastard son and that the only way he can keep his job—keep everything he’s worked for the last eight years—is to change his name. If he doesn’t become a Barron, he’s out on his butt.” He met the gaze of each of his brothers and added in a sarcastic voice, “Yeah, I’d be thrilled to death with that ultimatum.”

Pippa didn’t want to hear anything else. Her first thought was to get to Kade. No wonder he’d stood her up. Maybe she was too softhearted, as her mother so often complained, but she wanted to find him, try to make things better. If she jumped up and dashed from the restaurant, the Barrons would see her. She had to wait. That meant dessert. And coffee. And more stalling.

She finally paid out and was just waiting for her chance to sneak away when a waitress and busboy began to clear the table between her and the Barrons. With a surreptitious glance toward their table, she slipped out of the chair and scuttled toward the door leading to the restaurant’s interior. She now had one goal in mind—find Kade.

Walking to the parking garage, she considered what she’d overheard. Was Kade really a Barron? He’d never really talked about his family. Granted, she hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about her own. She and Kade were friends but not particularly close. Not that she didn’t want to know him better. She did because part of her remembered how she’d been that starry-eyed coed mooning over the handsome cowboy.

Cash said that Kade had to change his name or he was out. What exactly did that mean? Obviously, they wanted him to be a Barron, but did they mean to kick him off the ranch if he didn’t? Her sense of justice surged again. Kade had told her she couldn’t help, but she was determined to do something. Besides, what was the worst that could happen? He’d get mad, tell her to go away and that would be that. He’d still help out with the therapy program. Probably.

Before she could second-guess her motives, she headed toward the ranch, figuring that’s where Kade would go. He’d lived there since graduating from OSU. She knew he was from somewhere down south—Sulphur or Davis or somewhere. Surely he wouldn’t head that direction.

There was only one way to find out. She kept driving north. Her foot might have been a little heavy on the accelerator because she made the drive in record time. She followed the long, sweeping trip to the big house. No vehicles were parked there.

Pippa took a secondary road and headed toward the building that housed the ranch office. Kade’s truck wasn’t parked there either. She kept driving until she found the pickup in front of his house. She parked her Highlander next to his truck, worked up her courage and got out. After knocking on the door for several minutes and listening intently, she decided he must not be home. She stood on the porch and looked around. What would she do if she lived out here and was upset?

The open door of the main horse barn caught her attention. Had he gone riding? After picking Kade’s brain about horse breeding and ranching, she understood enough about the Crown B operation to know that when the ranch hands rode horseback, they used the stock horses kept in the smaller barn. Kade worked and rode the blood stock stabled in the main building.

She headed to the barn and found Kade there. He stood in front of a stall, arms folded across the top of the stall door, chin resting on his fisted hands.

He looked...forlorn. Deflated. Utterly defeated. Pippa wanted to run to him, throw her arms around his waist and hug him until the stuffing came out, as her grandmother used to say. But her feet remained encased in emotional concrete.

“Go away, Pippa.”

He hadn’t looked up, but of course he’d know she was here. He always seemed attuned to his surroundings. There was no heat in his voice so she didn’t move.

“Do you want to talk about...” She couldn’t tell him she knew. He’d have to share that on his own. “About whatever has you upset?”

“No.” He swiped his ball cap off his head and tunneled fingers through his thick, black hair but refused to look in her direction. “Just...leave me the hell alone.”

“Don’t curse at me. And I’m not leaving. You owe me lunch.” She made a show of looking at her watch before glancing up at him, a smug expression firmly in place before she winked. “Though at this point, it is closer to suppertime.”

Kade turned his head and her heart broke a little at the utter devastation etched on his face. His brown eyes were shadowed by a soul-deep pain. She moved then, walking toward him like she would a skittish horse. She stopped short of touching him, choosing instead to lean on the stall door in a mirror image of his posture when she’d arrived.

The yearling colt inside the stall whickered. Barron’s Imperial Pride, Imp for short. “He’s growing fast.” Imp was Kade’s crowning accomplishment and a safe topic.

“Yeah. Too bad I won’t watch him grow up.”

Or not. Pippa had to get Kade to tell her everything because this dancing around what she knew without tripping up was hard. She leaned a little closer to him, accidentally brushing her arm against his. “You can talk to me, Kade. Always. You know that, right?” He didn’t say anything so she tried again. “We’re friends, Kade. Friends help friends. I can see you’re upset. Won’t you tell me what happened today?”

He shook his head and the next words out of his mouth stabbed her heart.

“What makes you think we’re friends?” Kade jammed the cap back on his head and glowered at her.

She flashed him what she hoped was a sweet smile before nudging his biceps with her shoulder. “I did drive all the way up here after you blew me off for lunch. Only a friend would do that.” She considered her next words carefully. “Even if you don’t want to tell me what’s got you upset, I still think you need a friend right now, and I just happen to be here all handy and stuff.”

She tilted her head to look up at him. “Besides, you’re a growing boy,” she said. “You need to eat. I’ll even cook, provided you have something in the fridge.”

* * *

Pippa wasn’t going to leave him be, and part of him didn’t want to be alone. “I’m not fit for company, Pippa.”

“Yeah, and?” She grinned at him, totally unrepentant for intruding on his solitude.

Kade settled at her words and that surprised him. He didn’t want company of any sort, but if he had to have some, Pippa would do. Seeing her at Cash’s wedding, he’d remembered her from college, from when he’d catch her sitting on the fence mooning over him. He hadn’t wanted a girlfriend then. He didn’t want one now, especially not someone like Pippa. She should be with someone rich, like a Barron—He cut off that thought. Technically, he was a Barron, or could be.