“Yes.” The instant he’d seen her in the hotel lobby, he’d been drawn to her. The blonde next to her with come-hither eyes had been safe, but Gabrielle? Not safe at all. She was his type, which meant she was all wrong for him. A beautiful, confident girl like her would want someone dependable, a man she could rely on. No one had depended on him in a long time. Not even his own father. Dad wouldn’t have sold his company, King Energy, without a word to him if he had. Worst of all, though, Dylan had failed the one person who once upon a time had relied on him—Sam.
“Why are you here?” Gabrielle pierced him with a laser-like stare. He tried not to squirm.
“I want to meet my niece.” Dylan planned on more than meeting the child. He intended to set up a trust fund for Phoebe and monthly child support, too. He could afford it. It was the least he could do for Sam’s little girl. But he wasn’t doing either until he knew for sure Gabrielle was raising the baby with love. And that meant keeping the fact he was a multimillionaire a secret.
What advice would his late father give in this situation? Dad would probably tell him not to screw it up.
Money had only bought him and his father trouble when it came to women.
At least Gabrielle would have to dig deep to find out Dylan was rich. He’d always gone by his middle name, and his father had been private to the point of almost being reclusive. The man never mentioned his son in the rare interviews he’d given. The first fifteen pages of results for Dylan Kingsley in any search engine displayed articles by an astrophysicist with the same name.
“Why now?” Cocking her head, she narrowed her eyes. “She’s nine months old. Allison and I repeatedly tried to contact him until six months ago. Why are you showing up here after all this time?”
“I didn’t know about the baby until last week.” It was the truth. But at the skeptical gleam in her eyes, he continued. “Sam died over a year ago. My father had a stroke and passed not long after. I hit the road. When I came back to Texas last week, it was the first I knew of the baby. Your letter had been sent to my address. Sam lived with me briefly before moving to Austin.”
“I’m sorry about your family.” She had the grace to appear contrite. “How did Sam die?”
He flexed his jaw. Thinking about his brother always ripped him up inside. Almost nine years younger than Dylan, Sam had come into his life as a happy five-year-old when Dylan’s mother married husband number three. Despite the age gap, Dylan and Sam had been close. And he’d let his little brother down. “Does it matter?”
Her eyes widened, lips parted to ask a question. He braced himself. But she didn’t speak.
“He’s gone, and he’s not coming back.” Dylan couldn’t bring himself to tell a stranger that Sam had died of a drug overdose. He wouldn’t let her think the worst about his brother. He still couldn’t believe his brother had been messing around with heroin. Worse, Dylan had been wallowing in his own problems and hadn’t taken Sam’s call the week he’d died. Could he have stopped him from overdosing?
He’d always regret it.
“It matters to me.” She leaned forward with her hands clasped on the desk. “I need to know Phoebe’s health history. If he had cancer or diabetes or heart problems...”
Fair enough. She had a point.
“It was an overdose—an accidental overdose.”
“Oh.”
Right about now would be when he’d expect her to ask about Sam’s estate—find out if Phoebe had inherited anything. His own mother would have dollar signs in her eyes in this situation. She’d used him to squeeze money out of his father countless times. And then there was Dylan’s ex-girlfriend. Robin not only dumped him when his dad sold King Energy, but she’d also had the nerve to try to get back together after finding out he’d inherited Dad’s fortune.
His niece would never be used as a pawn for money if he had anything to say about it.
“Were you close to him?” Gabrielle’s tone softened, and sympathy brightened her face.
“Yes, I was.” He hadn’t expected sympathy.
“I was close to Allison, too.” Her words broke at the end. “I miss her.”
The naked emotion touched him. He missed Sam, too. To distract himself, he studied her office. Paneled walls, jewel-toned carpet, an oak desk and two typical conference room chairs. A file cabinet stood to the side, and a potted tree was in the corner. The walls had two framed paintings of mountain scenes. No personal photos he could see.
Doting moms usually splattered pictures of their kids all over their offices. Why weren’t there any photos of the baby?
“So you work here, huh?” he said.
“I do. I’m the day manager.” It was as though an iron curtain fell over her earlier vulnerability. She straightened, all brisk and no-nonsense. “What did you say you’d been doing for the past year?”
Be careful what you say. “Moving around. This and that...”
“I see.” Disapproval radiated loud and clear through her pursed lips.
He doubted she did. Three days after his father’s funeral, he’d packed his bags and flown to France. Two weeks later, he’d moved on to Italy, then Germany, the Alps, Finland and wherever the wind had taken him. He wished he could say he’d enjoyed the traveling, but it had underscored his new reality.
He was alone. He had no purpose. And no amount of money or traveling would change it.
“Can I see the baby?” he asked.
“My shift ends soon.” She stood with her head high. “You can come over to my apartment around six to meet Phoebe.”
Surprised, he rose. He hadn’t expected her to allow him to see the baby so quickly.
“Here’s my address. It’s not far.” She scribbled it on a piece of paper and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He slipped it into his back pocket.
She escorted him to the door, down the hall and back to the front desk. She wasn’t short, but he had at least six inches on her. She was a very attractive woman, reminding him of the fact he had to be careful where she was concerned. He couldn’t let chemistry affect his ability to size up her parenting skills.
“I’ll see you in a little while.” He put his cowboy hat back on and nodded to her before exiting. With nothing else to do, he figured he’d drive through the small town. It would be good to get a feel for the community his niece would be growing up in. If all went well, he’d meet the baby tonight and be satisfied she was in good hands.
Since Gabrielle thought he was just some guy off the street, she wouldn’t have any reason to put on a false motherly act to press him for money. If he got a sense of peace about her raising Phoebe, in the morning he’d tell her he was directing his attorney to set up the trust fund and child support. Then he’d...
A breeze caressed his face as he strode to the truck he’d rented.
What? What was he going to do next?
He didn’t know. He’d been wandering without direction for a long time. A night in Rendezvous, Wyoming, wasn’t going to cough up answers for him. He wished he knew what would.
* * *
“This visit isn’t going to change anything.” Gabby took Phoebe out of Eden’s arms and kissed the baby’s soft cheeks. Her giggles filled the small apartment Gabby called home. Eden Page was one of her best friends as well as Phoebe’s babysitter. Gabby usually picked up Phoebe from Eden’s, but today she’d asked her friend for a favor. “Thank you so much for bringing her over. I don’t have much time to get this place in shape. It was so weird having him show up like that. At first I thought he was the father. But he’s not. Sam died. He’s Sam’s stepbrother.”
“He died?” Eden’s expressive brown eyes oozed with compassion. “So Phoebe will never meet her daddy. That’s so sad.”
“I know. It is.”
“And this uncle wants to meet her, huh?” Eden set the diaper bag on the foyer floor. “That’s i
t?”
“Yes. At least that’s what he said.” She bit the right side of her bottom lip. “If he thinks I’m going to share custody with him, he’s fooling himself.”
“Did he say he wanted to?”
“No, but all the way home, I’ve been going through worst-case scenarios.”
“Remember what Babs always tells you. Don’t borrow trouble.” Eden scanned the living room and shrugged. “Your place looks good to me. I’ll give the kitchen a once-over if you’d like.”
“Would you? Oh, you are a lifesaver!” Gabby set Phoebe on the quilted mat in the living room and handed her a toy while Eden crossed over to the kitchen separated from the living room by a counter with bar stools. “How did the week go without having Noah around?”
“I miss him. He’s such a sweet little boy. But having all the one-on-one time with Phoebe is making up for it a little bit.”
Until last week, Eden had also been babysitting her nephew, Noah. But now that her brother-in-law, Mason, had gotten remarried, he and his new wife, Brittany, were splitting childcare duties and didn’t need Eden’s services anymore. Gabby envied Mason a tiny bit—he’d found someone to share his life with. Part of her wished she could have a relationship like theirs, too. But it wasn’t likely. She’d be the first to admit she had trust issues when it came to men.
“Not having Noah around must be a big change for you.” Gabby tossed a few toys into a basket.
“It is, and I hate change. But I can’t stop it.” Eden rinsed a mug. “By the way, I’m glad you invited this guy—Dylan, right?—over to meet the little sweetie. You wouldn’t want to deprive her of an uncle.”
“No, I couldn’t deprive her of an uncle.” A teeny part of her did want to deprive Phoebe of this particular one, though. If Dylan was anything like her own father or Carl, she wanted her niece as far from him as possible. At the moment, she didn’t see much difference between him and them, but she wasn’t being fair. She didn’t know him at all. “One thing’s for sure—we’re going to have a lot to talk about at this week’s meeting.”
“When don’t we?” Eden grinned.
Gabby, Eden, Mason and Nicole met every Tuesday at the inn for their support group. They’d all lost loved ones who’d been in the prime of their lives. Mason’s first wife, Mia, who was Eden’s older sister, had died of cancer six months after Noah was born. Gabby had lost Allison last year and Nicole’s husband died unexpectedly on Christmas Day due to complications from muscular dystrophy.
Eden glanced up. “How long did you say he’d be in town?”
“He didn’t say. I doubt long.” Keeping an eye on Phoebe, Gabby tidied the magazines on the end table. Dylan had drifter written all over him. If he’d been moving around for a year, doing who knew what after his father died...
It didn’t take much of a stretch of the imagination to figure out the guy didn’t have a job, didn’t have roots. Maybe he’d come into a small inheritance and rather than put it toward his future, he was running through it like a fool. Or he could be like her daddy, latching on to a new woman in each town to support him. Both scenarios spelled deadbeat. The muscles in her neck tightened.
“I’m fine with him meeting Phoebe, but I can tell you right now, I’m not going to have her influenced by some charming, shifty cowboy who will only let her down. If he wants to visit now and then, fine, but not unsupervised. And there will be rules.”
“Is he charming? What does he look like?” Eden closed the dishwasher door and returned to the living room. She knelt on the floor by Phoebe, who clapped her hands with glee. Gabby said a silent prayer of thanks she’d been blessed to have Eden caring for the baby while she worked. The woman was a gift from the good Lord.
“I don’t know. He’s...attractive.” She made the word sound as bad as an infectious skin disease. Attractive wasn’t a good trait on this guy. “The way Stella was flirting, you’d think she’d have accepted a marriage proposal from him on the spot.”
“Stella flirts with every guy under forty.”
“True.” Gabby hustled down the hall, stowed a laundry basket in her bedroom and loped back. “Here, I can take her.”
“Why don’t you change quick?” Eden said. “You’ll feel better in your jeans.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Why would I mind? You know I could eat this little dumpling up.” Eden scrunched her nose at Phoebe and tickled her tummy. Throaty baby laughter filled the air.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She raced to her room and donned her best jeans and a blouse patterned in various shades of red. With a quick brush of her hair and a swipe of tinted lip gloss, she was ready to face whatever came her way. She returned to the living room, and Eden handed her the baby. The air filled with her little gurgles.
“I can tell you’re worried about this situation,” Eden said. “But there’s no reason to get worked up. He’s not the father. And you are her legal guardian. You call the shots.”
“You’re right.” She shifted Phoebe to her hip. “I guess I’ve been scared for a long time, always worrying Sam would show up one day and take her from me.” She considered herself a rational person. She wasn’t gullible—not anymore, anyway—and she tried to do the right thing. Why was she so agitated?
Something about him reminds me of Daddy. Of Carl. And I don’t allow men like them in my life anymore.
“He’s not the enemy.” Eden frowned. “Unless... Did you get a weird vibe from him? Do you think he might be shady? Dangerous? We should call my dad to come over and supervise. No one would dare mess with you with Dad scowling at him.”
“No, he seemed fine.” She let out a little chuckle. “I don’t need a chaperone. I can take care of myself.” And she could. She’d taken care of herself and Allison all through their teen years and beyond. And now it was her privilege to take care of Phoebe.
“Well, try not to worry, then.” Eden hugged her. “You’re the most welcoming person I know. You’ll get off on the right foot with him for Phoebe’s sake. I know you.”
“Thanks, Eden.”
“If you’re sure you don’t want me around, I guess I’ll take off. Call me the instant he leaves.”
“I will.” She held Phoebe tightly. “Thanks again.”
After seeing Eden to the door, she took the baby to the couch and selected a children’s book from the basket below the end table. For now, she’d try to keep things as normal as possible. And that meant concentrating on Phoebe and not worrying about Dylan.
He’d meet the baby and leave.
Life wouldn’t change.
If she kept telling herself that, maybe it wouldn’t.
Hopefully, this uncle would breeze out of their lives as suddenly as he’d breezed in.
She’d just have to keep a level head until he did.
Copyright © 2020 by Ripple Effect Press, LLC
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ISBN: 9781488060083
The Amish Nurse’s Suitor
Copyright © 2020 by Carrie Lighte
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and re
views.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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