by Jane Porter
“What does a Wyatt baby look like?”
“Take a peek in the hall. There are framed photos of every Wyatt baby going back three generations.” Sophie gave her a curious look. “Unless Joe has it wrong?”
“I don’t think so.” Erika saw Sophie’s expression and added, “He’s my cousin’s baby, not mine, and she’s gone. I’m trying to find Beck’s dad.”
“And you think Beck’s dad is Billy?”
Erika nodded. “But then, I might have put two and two together and gotten five, which is why I’m here to ask Billy to take a DNA test.”
“Sounds fair.”
“Only my timing is terrible. I didn’t mean to crash Mr. Wyatt’s party, or to…” She swallowed hard, finding the words uncomfortable. “Or, take away from your baby—”
“You’re not taking away from my baby. He—or she—is snug as a bug here.” Sophie gave her tummy a little rub. “But it does seem like a long way to go to find Bill. He’s not here often.”
“I know, but one of the girls dating Tommy heard that Billy and Tommy would be at the family ranch this weekend, so I piled us in the car and headed north.” Erika glanced into the backseat of the car. “Billy’s hard to get alone. He almost always has… company.”
Sophie’s brown gaze glinted with humor, as well as something else. “He’s popular.”
She crossed to the open door of the car and peeked in at the sleeping baby. “You said his name is Beck?”
“Beck Wyatt Estes. He was born last November, right before Thanksgiving.”
“And his mom? She’s passed?”
“She died in a car accident a month ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sophie sounded sincere and Erika appreciated it. It had bothered Erika that the world didn’t seem to care that April was gone. Erika knew the world could be a hard and brutal place, but this absence of grief for her cousin wounded her. “April had kept the arrival of the baby to herself. No one in our family knew. I only knew when the police called me, notifying me that she’d been killed and I was her emergency contact.”
“How awful, and how tragic for Beck to lose his mom that way.”
Emotion thickened Erika’s chest, making it hard to swallow, and impossible to speak. She blinked hard, clearing the burning sensation from her eyes. She’d felt together, strong, until now. Sophie’s sympathy was proving to be her undoing. “He hasn’t had the easiest start in life,” she agreed hoarsely.
“You two both need to come inside and relax. We have a big dinner planned for Granddad. Brisket, ribs, and pulled pork. There’s a lot of food, and always room at the Wyatt table.”
Erika looked to the old two-story cabin, thinking of Billy’s expression as he walked away. “I don’t think everyone wants us here.”
“This is Melvin’s house, not Billy’s, and it’s Melvin’s birthday, not Billy’s. And Melvin and Summer want you here. And so do I. Please stay, at least for dinner? There’s no need for you to hustle down the mountain if you have nowhere specific to be.”
Again Erika blinked back the sting of hot salty tears. She was tired, no, make that exhausted, and the idea of being with people, kind people, even just for a bit, was certainly appealing. “If you’re sure no one would mind”—she broke off, made a face—“other than Billy.”
“No one minds, and I bet Billy doesn’t, either. He’s just… surprised. And let’s face it; the news that he could be a daddy to that baby boy is huge. It’s news that could change his life forever.”
*
An hour later, Erika was fast asleep in a big, winged chair in the Wyatt living room, while Ivy, Sophie, and Sam took turns carrying the baby around. Erika had protested that she wasn’t tired, but when she sat down to give Beck a bottle, she fell asleep, and Beck didn’t. Sam eased the baby out of Erika’s arms, Ivy covered her with a blanket, and they all let her be to catch up on some much-needed sleep.
Granddad peeked in at one point and then left, remarking to Billy that, “she reminds me a little of Goldilocks.”
Billy had no reply to that, not at all comfortable with how protective his family was being of Erika and the baby. There was a very good chance that the baby wasn’t his and it worried him that they were all getting a little too attached.
While dinner cooked, Summer pulled Billy aside, speaking to him in the den. “So what are you going to do?” she asked her son, sinking into her recliner.
Billy chose not to sit, and he shrugged, fighting back his irritation. “Take a paternity test, figure it out.”
“I think it’s smart to get a paternity test, but I can tell you right now, that is your baby. That, or one of your brothers.”
Billy’s head swiveled, his narrowed gaze meeting his mom’s. “You’re reaching, Mom.”
Her lips pursed, her gaze sharp. “That’s a Wyatt baby, Bill. I’ve had four of them, and that’s what you all looked like. Round bald heads, peaches and cream skin, big blue eyes, happy smiles. You came out looking like cherubs. Not sure why, because once you grew up, you weren’t angelic creatures.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He paced the room, his shoulders hunching as he approached the window, his gaze going to the view of the barn and stables beyond. “If it’s mine, it will change everything.”
“Babies generally do.” His mom leaned back in her chair, hands folding on her lap. “That baby needs a home. It’s your responsibility now to give him that home. It might be time to retire—”
“Lots of guys compete with families. Sometimes the families go on the road, sometimes they waited home—”
“You have a baby without a mama. Who’s going to take care of your baby while you travel? Certainly not my job, not your granddad’s job, not any of your brothers’ job—”
“We don’t even know if that baby is mine.”
“Then go to Marietta tomorrow and take a test. I’m sure there’s a lab at the hospital that does paternity tests.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday.”
“Then go Monday.”
“I need to get on the road Monday.”
“Yes, you do. Right after you take the test.”
Billy closed his eyes and pressed two fingers to his brow, pressing back against the dull thudding pain that had been there all evening. “I know you’re angry, and disappointed—”
“Mistakes happen, Bill. It’s what you do after the mistake, that’s what I’m concerned about.”
He gave her a fierce look. “I know my responsibilities. If Beck is mine, I’m taking him with me. I won’t be leaving him behind or pawning him off on someone else. If he’s my son, I’ll be the one raising him.”
“Good. That’s all I wanted to hear.”
Chapter Two
No one even mentioned the snow, not during dinner, or over cake and coffee while Melvin opened the gifts his grandsons had for him. It wasn’t until Erika had risen at the very end of the meal and helped carry dishes into the kitchen that she noticed the strange lavender white light outside. It was night, and dark, but the kitchen window over the sink revealed a pale glow. She leaned closer to the window and stared out, taking a moment to realize it was snow. Thick, white snow covering everything.
Tommy joined her at the sink, scraping the remnants of cake off the dessert plates before tackling the plates she’d carried in. “It’s been coming down steadily all evening,” he said.
“I had no idea,” she answered.
He submerged all the plates in the hot soapy water filling the sink. “If you don’t have four-wheel drive, you might be stuck here tonight.”
She frowned. “Surely it’s not that bad.”
“Go have a look.”
Erika exited the mudroom door and stepped out onto the porch, taking in the landscape that now was white. The thick snowflakes were still falling, a steady silent flurry from the sky. She glanced at Sophie and Joe who’d joined her outside on the porch. “It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice low, a hint of wonder in her voice.
“Another Califor
nia girl,” Joe said, wrapping his arm around his wife’s shoulders.
“I still love it,” Sophie said with a smile. “But after a year, I’ve learned all the downsides. Fortunately, we don’t have to drive anywhere tonight, not like Sam and Ivy.”
“Or, Erika,” Joe added, looking to Erika. “It’s going to be tough for you to get down the mountain tonight.”
“That’s what Tommy said,” she answered, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t suppose there are four-wheel drive Ubers—”
“Come in, and close the door,” Summer called from the house. “It’s cold. No need to heat the outdoors.”
Sophie and Joe exchanged quick smiles even as they headed back in. Erika followed them, feeling somewhat scolded. But returning to the kitchen she found Summer seated at the kitchen table, rocking the baby carrier that had been placed on the table. Beck was awake and gazing up at all the people in the room.
“Had you checked into a motel yet?” Summer asked Erika.
Erika shook her head. “Not yet. I have a reservation in Marietta, but we came straight here. I hadn’t expected to be here so long.”
“Have you paid for the room yet?”
“No, but they’re holding it—”
“That’s fine. We’ll call and get it canceled. You’ll stay here tonight.” Summer gestured to Tommy. “Go bring in their luggage. Get the keys, find out what they need.” She looked at Billy. “Billy, show them to Sam’s room and point out where everything is. Make sure she gets fresh towels and you might need to turn on the little heater that’s in the closet, to make sure Sam’s room warms up.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Erika protested weakly. “I appreciate the offer of hospitality, but the last thing I want to do is—”
“No trouble at all,” Summer interrupted. “It’s dangerous driving and that little baby doesn’t need another accident.”
Erika opened her mouth to protest, but closed it without saying anything, because Mrs. Wyatt had made an excellent point. Beck had survived one deadly crash. The last thing he needed was another tragedy. “Perhaps I could go with Sam and Ivy… aren’t they heading down to town soon?”
“They’re heading to their ranch, but it’s the opposite direction of Marietta. No sense putting them in harm’s way, either.”
Erika nodded, because of course Summer Wyatt was right. “I wouldn’t want to do that, no.”
“I can drive her down in my truck, Mom,” Billy said, his deep voice pitched even lower. “Tommy and I could get her car down to her sometime in the morning.”
“That’s a good idea,” Erika said quickly, latching onto the possibility.
“Unless it doesn’t stop snowing and then she’s trapped without a car, and she can’t go hiking around town with a baby without any snow gear.” Summer’s brow creased as she looked at Erika, even as she continued rocking the car seat. “Did you bring snow gear?”
Erika shook her head. “It’s, uh, almost April.”
“It can snow here until May,” Tommy said, from his position leaning against the stove. “The day can start out hot and sunny and still end in wind and snow.”
“Let’s not discuss weather. Let’s get our guest settled,” Summer said. “Tommy, Billy, please?”
Billy nodded, not about to argue with his mom, but he didn’t know why his mom was so insistent on Erika and the baby staying when she’d always been firmly against any pretty single woman staying over.
Nevertheless, he waited while she retrieved her car keys for Tommy before lifting the car seat from the kitchen table and carrying it with him as he led the way upstairs to a room halfway down the hall. Billy pushed open Sam’s door and flipped on the light. The room was distinctly chilly. He placed the baby and car seat on the floor and walked to the closed ceiling vent, opening it, but there was no encouraging gust of heat. It’d take considerable time for the room to warm up. As if reading his mind, Erika stopped him before he’d gone to the closet.
“I can plug the heater in,” she said. “You don’t need to trouble yourself further. Just tell me where I’d find a couple of towels and a bathroom and I’ll be fine.”
“The bathroom is next door. Sam and Joe used to share it but since neither are here anymore, it’s all yours. There should be clean towels under the sink.” He hesitated. “What about the baby? Does he need anything?”
“The travel crib in the car trunk. It’s stored in a large black backpack.”
“I’ll go get it. Anything else while I’m going that way?”
“I have a large water bottle by the driver’s seat. It’s red with bright orange and pink flowers.”
He returned a few minutes later with the backpack and water bottle. He could see that Tommy had already brought up the rest of her things. She’d also plugged the heater in and turned it on. It hadn’t warmed the room yet but the night was cold and it’d take a while. “I’m going to grab you an extra quilt,” he said. “And then I’ll set up the crib if you’d like.”
“I can do it.”
“I don’t mind lending a hand.”
She gave him a strained smile. “I’m fine, thank you.” She crossed to her purse and diaper bag and pulled a little photo album from one of the bags. “But I shouldn’t have this. For all I know, it was meant for you.”
He didn’t want the photo book, and he tried to hand it back but she wouldn’t take it and it’d be rude to just leave it on the bed.
He left her room and went to his, a room he’d shared with Tommy since they were both in cribs, and setting the photo book down on his dresser he headed into his bathroom, stripping off his clothes and stepping into the shower. The water came out cold, little ice needles raining down, but Billy forced himself to stand there, finding a strange solace in the brutally cold shower. Anything was better than looking at that small square book Erika had thrust into his hand as she said good night to him.
He didn’t need a book to remember April, and he didn’t need photos to picture her. She’d been fun and she’d had a wild streak, enjoying cutting loose with him—drinking, dancing, not vanilla lovemaking. But there had never been feelings between them, much less serious feelings, nor were they ever in a relationship.
From the beginning, she was seeing different guys—there had even been a sugar daddy from New Jersey that visited her in Vegas—and he’d been clear he was seeing other women, too. They’d agreed that they weren’t into commitments, and even if they were, long-distance relationships didn’t work. Far better to just meet up when convenient, than have hard and fast rules. He’d put April on the rodeo pass list more than once, happy to see her when she showed up at one of his events, and then they’d always hang out after, but she wasn’t the only one he did that for. While he didn’t have a woman in every town, there was a handful he enjoyed seeing when he was in their town.
The shower finally turned warm and Billy lifted his face to the spray. He wasn’t going to apologize for liking women. He’d never apologize for that. He was single, thirty, and in the prime of his career. What was wrong with enjoying himself? Why shouldn’t he have a pretty girl to kill time with?
He wasn’t going to apologize for not loving any of them, either. It wasn’t that he went out of his way to not fall in love. He just didn’t. And he didn’t know why. To be honest, he was rather on the fence about the whole falling-in-love thing anyway. If it wasn’t for Joe and Sam, he’d doubt that romantic love existed at all. Joe had a serious girlfriend back in high school, a girl from Marietta named Charity, and he’d been head over heels for her, and now he had Sophie and he loved her, too.
Sam and Ivy had a completely different love—the kind that just wouldn’t go away—even when they were apart for years. Now that they were back together, they were inseparable, traveling on the circuit together, training horses together, working with young riders together. It was as if they couldn’t function without the other and Billy had never once felt that way about anyone. He and Tommy had even talked about it, and Tommy said th
at although he wasn’t ready to settle down, he looked forward one day to having a family.
Not Billy.
Family meant commitments and responsibilities he didn’t want. Not now, not ever.
He turned the water off, stepped from the shower, water sluicing down his body and reached for a towel, taking his time drying off, enjoying the brisk rubdown.
So what if Beck was his?
What if the baby in the next room was his son?
Billy lifted the towel, dried his hair and then covered his face with the towel, and drew a deep breath, trying to process it all.
My God, if he was Beck’s dad, everything had just changed. Forever.
It was a strange thing to think about, being a father, possibly having a son, aware he was nowhere near ready to be a decent father. He was strong, fit, able to do things physically most men could never do, but take care of another human being? Never mind a helpless little thing that could barely hold his head up on his own? Billy shuddered. Now that was danger.
Being the third son meant you were the third in line for everything—clothes, food, opportunities. But it also meant that you had fewer responsibilities. Joe had always shouldered the most work and most of their mother’s grief when Dad died. Sam had taken on what Joe needed help with. That left Billy and Tommy free to screw around and do what they wanted to do, which generally meant have a good time. And they did have a good time. They loved life. They loved their freedom and their career and their success. Good Lord, they’d been successful, earning more money than either of them knew what to do with—well, not true. Tommy knew. Tommy was the one with the head for numbers. He was the Wyatt everyone talked to when needing investment advice. Tommy understood the stock market, he understood economics. If he’d gone to college, he’d probably be working on Wall Street now. He was that smart, that good at math, that good at equations, predictions, statistics.
Billy didn’t have a talent like Tommy’s, or a passion for ranching like Sam and Joe. The only thing he was really good at was riding, roping, competing. He was a damn good cowboy, a risk taker, a winner. But take him off the road, take away his horse, and he had nothing to offer. Nothing but charm and sex. That was his talent. He knew how to make a woman feel good in bed. He’d known that since he was sixteen.