Montana Cowboy Daddy (Wyatt Brothers of Montana Book 3)

by Jane Porter

  “I’m being sincere. You’re special, Billy.” She swallowed hard, her face warm. Had she said too much? She probably had, but she still couldn’t stop talking. More words tumbled from her mouth. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know I’m sorry for criticizing. I shouldn’t be negative. I’ll just say, please be careful, Billy Wyatt, because you mean a lot to a lot of people.”

  For a moment, silence stretched, a long humming silence filled with things they avoided saying. He finally broke the silence. “Does that include you?”

  Her cheeks grew warmer. Her voice dropped lower. “Yes.”

  “You’d miss me if I wasn’t around?”

  Her eyes stung. An uncomfortable lump filled her throat. “I think it’d break my heart.”

  He reached out, lightly stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t want to do that.”

  Chapter Nine

  She didn’t know which made her feel more, his touch, or his words. Combined, they made the ache in her chest grow, filling her with tenderness and pain.

  What she felt for him wasn’t infatuation. What she felt went so much deeper than that. She wanted what was best for him. She wanted him safe. She wanted him to live a long, happy life.

  He gently stroked her cheek again, a sweeping caress from the corner of her mouth, up over her cheekbone, and then back again. “Why do you look so sad?”

  “You make me feel, and it’s not always comfortable,” she said.

  His hand fell away. “Life’s not always comfortable.”

  “No,” she agreed huskily, looking away, trying to pull herself together.

  She was hooked on him. She’d fallen in love with him. She didn’t know why, because he wasn’t practical, or safe, and she was risk-adverse, but now that he was in her heart, she didn’t know how to get him out.

  “I don’t have a death wish, Erika,” he said after a moment. “I’d like to end up like Granddad, eighty-nine years old and in better shape than men half his age.”

  “That’s a goal I can relate to, as I’d like to see you loved, the way your grandfather is loved by all of you. You, Beck, Beck’s kids.”

  “You’re awfully determined to give me a family.”

  “You already have a family, a big family. The family you were born into, and now the family you’re creating. Beck is just the first of your children. I’m sure there will be more.”

  “You’re also determined to make me settle down.”

  “You’re already somewhat settled. You have a great home. You have a son. You have what most men would love to have.”

  “Not women?” he countered. “You don’t want a home, and family?”

  “Of course I do, down the road, if I meet the right person—”

  “You make that sound as if that’s going to be a challenge.”

  “I’m not for everybody. And honestly, not everyone’s for me.”

  “What do you want? From a man?”

  His voice had dropped, and firmed, and she looked away from him, to gaze out over the dramatic pink rocks. “I want him to love me.”

  “That’s a given,” Billy said.

  “No, it’s not. My mom and dad didn’t have much love between them, and even less tolerance. They picked at each other constantly. It was excruciating.”

  “You’re not them. You won’t make the same choices, or the same mistakes.”

  “I’m afraid, though. Afraid that maybe—” She broke off, shook her head.

  “Maybe what?” he persisted.

  She bit the inside of her cheek, considered the men she’d dated, remembered who they’d been and how incredibly unsatisfying the relationships had been. “Maybe I’m unlovable.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She couldn’t look at him. “I think I might need too much.”

  “Of what?”

  “Hugs. Love. Words of affection.” She forced herself to look up, her gaze meeting his. “I think I’m going to need too much reassurance, and it won’t be an easy thing for a man. Men don’t like needy women.”

  He let out a rough laugh. “You’re the least needy woman I know.”

  “Maybe it’s because you don’t know me.”

  “So what are you hiding from me?”

  It was her turn to laugh, a very uncomfortable laugh. “What am I not hiding?”

  “Hit me with one thing.”

  She squinted against the bright warm sun, thinking. She wasn’t even sure where to begin. “I’d rather hang out with you and Beck than sit in my room and do my dissertation.”

  “How is that a bad thing? I wouldn’t enjoy spending a year or more writing a paper. I wouldn’t enjoy spending a day writing a paper.”

  “Yes, but I’ve lost all interest in my dissertation. I don’t seem to care about the future anymore.” She turned and looked at him again, her gaze sweeping his impossibly handsome face. “I’ve lived my life by a list of goals and suddenly those goals seem less important than just being happy now.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “These past few weeks have been the happiest of my life.” She shrugged. “And I worry that all my goals were a distraction to keep me from realizing how unhappy I was.”

  “Okay, slow down. You’re upset with yourself for feeling good?”

  “I’m feeling so good that I don’t want to work.”

  “That’s not abnormal, Erika.” He smiled at her, a rather tender, amused smile. “You might need to counsel yourself, because you’re not saying anything shocking. You’re not saying anything weird, or deviant. You just happen to be aware of your weaknesses.”

  She had nothing to say to this. She was almost embarrassed they were having this long conversation about her issues. She preferred it when they were discussing him and his.

  “No one is productive all the time,” he added. “No one is at their best all of the time. We have highs and lows, and you’re going to have lows. You just have to push through, not give up, and not give up on your dissertation. You’ve worked far too hard to lose focus now. What can I do to make things easier? Hire Ellen? Ask her to do some cooking for us while caring for Beck? Do I need a housekeeper? What would allow you to start making progress again?”

  She couldn’t tell him that she didn’t want to write and work, that she just wanted to be with him, but it sounded pathetic even to herself. “Childcare would help. Some meals would be nice. I’m not adept in the kitchen—”

  “You’re better than you were.”

  She smiled crookedly. “Thank you. I think.”

  “What else is worrying you? Tell me. Let me help if I can.”

  “Money.” Her voice cracked. “I need to bring in some money again. It’s going to be tough making my rent payment for June if I don’t get my act together.”

  “I’ll cover your rent—”

  “No.”

  “Why not? You’ve given up your life for Beck, and he’s my son. Let me help you.”

  “Because Beck has been a gift, and a joy. I don’t want to take money from you for doing something I’ve loved.”

  “Why is it okay for you to take care of Beck, but I can’t help take care of you?”

  Heat rushed through her again, as well as a wash of shame. “I take care of Beck because he’s a baby. I’m not an infant. You shouldn’t have to take care of me. I should be able to take care of myself.”

  “You’ve helped take care of me since I was hurt, and I’m not an infant.”

  “It’s different. You were injured. You had serious injuries, too—”

  “I’m beginning to understand. Everyone else can be human but not you. You’re superhuman, and therefore, should be perfect.”

  Annoyed, she shot him a hard, narrowed glance. “No.”

  “If you feel needy, it’s because you think it’s somehow wrong to have needs, and I don’t know what your psychology experts say about that, but I was raised to think that it’s okay to have needs, and it’s okay to struggle, and it’s okay to ask for help
.”

  Temper flaring, Erika faced him, her hands rubbing Beck’s back as if to soothe him when in reality she was trying to calm herself. “If you’re such an expert, why don’t you want more for yourself? Why do you pursue women who are satisfied with just your body, and don’t want more of you? Why want women who are willing to accept your rules? Why not let yourself be challenged by a woman who wants the best from you, not just sex from you?”

  He lifted a brow. “How long have you been holding that in?”

  “I’m serious! Why don’t you want to be loved? Why don’t you want something permanent? What has made you afraid of love?”

  “Not afraid of love,” he answered promptly. “I just don’t love.”

  “You love your brothers, and your mom—”

  “And Granddad,” he agreed.

  “So you love.”

  “But I don’t fall in love. I have never fallen in love. There has never been that deep connection, or earth-shattering emotion and attachment that makes me think this is something I want forever, that without this person, I don’t want to live—”

  “I don’t know that that is love. That’s storybook stuff, romance novels and Disney movies. Love is an attachment. That’s exactly what love is.”

  “But I don’t feel it, and as I don’t enjoy hurting people, I discourage women from getting attached to me. Thus, hooking up works for me. I’m not causing anyone pain. I’m not disappointing anyone—”

  “Just selling yourself short.”

  “How?”

  “Because you can’t become attached if you never spend time with anyone. You won’t ever feel connected if you don’t invest in someone. Love grows over time. Again, it’s not the fairy tale where you lock eyes across the room and suddenly fall in love. Love is a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger it is.” She looked down at the top of Beck’s cap covering his head. “You didn’t have any feelings for Beck when you first met him, but now you do.”

  “He’s my son.”

  “But it’s not just head knowledge. You’re connected now because you’re protective of him. You’re bonding by being together. You feel love in part because you’ve taken care of him, and you want him safe. Happy. That bond didn’t happen in one day, either. It’s been a progression—”

  “Okay, Dr. Baylor, you’ve made your point. Love takes time, needs to grow, it’s more organic that the media portrays. Is that it?”

  She nodded.

  “Great. I’ll keep an open mind next time I meet a woman in a bar—”

  “Billy.”

  “What? That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

  “You’re being deliberately obtuse.”

  “I do love it when you use big words.”

  “Now you’re just trying to push my buttons.”

  “Maybe.” He glanced out over the Bryce canyon and then up toward the slope they’d walked down. “I suggest we head back up. Beck’s going to get hungry and I don’t think I can handle any more talking without lunch.”

  She nodded, feeling deflated, as well as somewhat defeated. Why was she so determined to give him ‘advice,’ especially when it came to women?

  Why was she determined to share so much? Lecture so much?

  What did she think she was going to do, change him and make him the man she wanted him to be? A man that would cheerfully retire from the rodeo, and get a nice, safe day job, and be the partner she wanted him to be?

  That wasn’t Billy, and it wasn’t fair to try to make him over into the man she wanted. He was a good person, a wonderful person, the way he was. Women loved who he was. He loved who he was. And if he was happy with his world, and his choices, maybe she needed to stop weighing in.

  Maybe she needed to accept that as much as she cared for him, as much as she was attracted to him, he wasn’t going to be the life partner she wanted.

  “I wish I could take Beck from you,” Billy said. “It’s going to be a hike back up.”

  “I’m fine with him,” she answered. “Honest.”

  *

  After leaving the national park, Billy suggested they grab lunch and he stopped at historic Ruby’s Inn. Lunch was quiet, but not uncomfortably so, and he was content to just focus on his pulled pork sandwich while Erika ate and gave Beck a bottle.

  Lunch over, he drove them to Bryce to get shopping done and then midafternoon they were on the way back to his cabin near Hatch.

  The drive home was even quieter than lunch. Billy shot Erika a couple of side glances, wondering what she was thinking as she kept her gaze fixed on the landscape beyond her passenger window. From her profile, he couldn’t tell if she was upset, but she’d lost her bubbly joy. She was back to being the serious Erika Baylor he’d met in the Wyatt kitchen in Paradise Valley.

  He had a nagging sense that she was replaying their earlier conversation over and over in her head. With her psychology training, she could go any number of ways analyzing him, them, the conversation in general. But too much analysis was just as destructive as no analysis. Erika might be book smart, but from what he’d learned of her, she relied too much on books, and placed too much weight on the opinions of so-called experts, when in reality, she should listen to herself. She had a good head on her shoulders. She had strong values, and a solid work ethic. She should trust herself. He trusted her. And he did listen to her. She gave good advice, but she didn’t seem inclined to want to take advice from others.

  “You okay over there?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He wasn’t reassured. “What are you thinking about?”

  She glanced at him, blue-green eyes somber. “I’ve been hard on you, and I have no right to be—”

  “No harder than my family, and you haven’t said things that Mom or Tommy or Joe haven’t said.”

  “But they’re your family. They have a right to weigh in. I don’t.”

  “It’s because you care about me,” he answered. “I know that.”

  “I do,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

  He reached over and briefly put his hand on hers before returning it to the steering wheel since it was the only hand available for steering. “I care about you, too. No need to beat yourself up. Everything’s good.”

  Her shimmering eyes met his. “Is it?”

  “Yes.” But he wasn’t entirely convinced.

  They were different people on different paths and at some point they’d go in different directions, and he wasn’t looking forward to the day their paths diverged, but until then, he was going to enjoy her, and be her friend, and fight the damn attraction that made him want to get her naked and do all kinds of pleasurable things to her, and with her.

  His body reacted to the images in his head, the zipper of his jeans growing tight over the hardening of his body. “Did I ever tell you how I ended up with property in Hatch?” he asked, needing to be distracted.

  She wiped her eyes dry and sat up straighter. “No. I’ve wondered, too, as it seems pretty much off the beaten path.”

  “It was an impulse purchase. I was upset, a friend was trying to offload some of his property, and I bought it for cash. The transaction took a week and it was done. I owned land in Utah.”

  “Why were you upset?”

  “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  “That’s a given.”

  He grinned. “You have become very sassy, Miss Baylor, soon to be Dr. Baylor.”

  “You seem to like it, and I aim to please.”

  “You can’t tell anyone what I’m going to tell you. You must swear to secrecy.”

  “I can’t, if you’ve committed a murder.”

  He liked her, she was funny and beautiful, and he enjoyed her quick wit. “No murder, no mayhem, nothing illegal.”

  “What about immoral?”

  “Nope. It’s more of a pitiable reaction I had to something someone else did, resulting in me having my own place in the middle of a state where no one in my family lives.”

  “It had t
o be something someone in your family did,” she said.

  “It was. How did you come to that conclusion though?”

  “Because they’re the only ones that really matter to you, and therefore the only ones that would get under your skin that much.”

  “Smart girl. If psychology doesn’t work out, you could be a detective.”

  She laughed, the sound bright, tinkly.

  “What I’m about to tell you is not known, not by anyone in my family, and so you must promise to take this secret to your grave.”

  “I take patient confidentiality very seriously and promise not to disclose what you are about to share with me.”

  The mock gravity in her voice made him glance at her. She was trying not to smile, and yet her eyes were bright, and her cheeks had picked up color from their hike. Her long golden hair was tousled from the earlier breeze and he thought she looked like heaven, at least his idea of heaven where angels were a bit naughty, and all celestial beings had a sense of humor.

  If he had a dream girl, it was Erika. Brilliant, beautiful, warm, kind, funny.

  He’d love to love her. She was so sweet and sexy, but he couldn’t offer her the stability she craved. He couldn’t offer her the love she deserved.

  And she deserved all the love in the world.

  “I bought the land when Tommy called me to tell me he’d gotten married,” he said. “It was a shock. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Tommy was my best friend and he’d married without me there? Without even talking to me about it first? I was in Vegas, too. We were there for the National Finals Rodeo. He and I were sharing a hotel room. How does he go get married without saying a word to me?”

  “You were hurt.”

  “I was angry.”

  “But hurt,” she said.

  He sighed. “Hurt, yes. Angry and hurt and I wanted nothing to do with him and his new wife, so I bought the land the next day and moved into the little cabin on the property and that was that. Tommy was no longer my problem.”

  “Tommy’s not married now.”

  “No.”

  “How long ago did they divorce?”

  “I don’t know.” Billy glanced her way. “I don’t think it lasted long, but he’s never discussed it. Any of it.”