Broderick’s bay quarter horse, Abacus, demanded nearly as much attention as his rider. They were a matched set. Dark, muscular—commanding. Even the way the bay tossed his mane said something of his wild, albeit tempered, nature. The two moved like one, almost as if Broderick’s soul had been fused to the bay. Every response, every turn seemed to happen from instinct.
Was there anything this man couldn’t handle?
Glenna’s hand dropped to Kota, stroking the puppy’s fur for comfort. Each touch of his coat soothed her ragged nerves.
She’d thought about Broderick’s proposition again and again throughout the night. But they weren’t two strangers meeting for the first time, with no entanglements. He had to understand they couldn’t just resume where they’d left off long ago.
But if she were meeting him for the first time?
Her gaze wandered back to the sight of him tall and strong on horseback. Her stomach lurched with awareness—and apprehension.
Yes, even if she were meeting him for the first time right now, she would still run. Because truth be told, this attraction was more than she could risk. Her emotions had to be off-limits. Losing her husband had already decimated her heart.
Glenna drew her attention back to the rustic luxury of the sunroom, a room that was the direct opposite of the Steeles’ sleek office space. Fat leather chairs and sofas filled the expansive, light-filled room. Rafters soared upward, dotted with skylights, as well as lantern-style lights for the long winter nights. One stone wall held a fireplace crackling with flames. Elk antlers hung above the mantel. The wet bar was laden with snacks and drinks.
The room was packed with wary women, gathered at the edict of Jeannie and Jack.
Glenna’s sister-in-law, Shana shot to her feet. “We’re going to play a party game. I reached out to Naomi and we’ve come up with some icebreakers to help us all—” she gestured weakly “—get over the newness of this.”
Well now, wasn’t that diplomatic? Kudos to Shana.
Jeannie waved from a log-style rocking chair. “Please, not one of those wedding shower games where we all end up wearing silly hats covered with bows.”
Glenna’s baby sister winced. “Or please say we don’t have to tell lies and truths and guess. I never win those because people can always tell when I’m lying.”
Edgy, Naomi stood, wearing brown leather leggings with a thick Sherpa vest. “We’re going to play the dating game.”
Alayna frowned, peering around the room at each woman. “But she’s already engaged, and she’s already married, and I suspect that she—”
“No,” Naomi stated, “this is a different sort of dating game. I’ve been consulting with a company that helps people write their bios for online dating sites—”
Her sister chuckled. “You’ve done what?”
“You heard me, Delaney. Guys in particular have a tough time expressing themselves with words, so they ask for help. It’s like marketing or editing. I have some samples and we’re going to figure out who’s for real and who’s a poser.”
Shana gathered her thick caramel-colored mane and tossed it over her shoulders. “Like the kind of guy who hangs out in a bar and claims to be an astronaut.”
“Great example.” Naomi walked to a corner table with the laptop computer connected to three wide screen televisions. “The names have been changed to protect the guys. Now are we ready to play the game?”
A dating game? Glenna would rather do the polar bear plunge, jumping naked into icy water. But she said, “Let’s get started.” So they would be done all the sooner and she could go home, away from this awkward gathering and the tempting view of Broderick as his horse galloped along the fence line.
Shana clapped her hands. “Good. Here are the rules. One point for every warning sign, five points if you can catch an outright lie.”
Delaney’s expression said she was clearly not sold yet. Glenna wasn’t, either; her eyes kept returning to the window, to the wild scenery and the precision with which Broderick moved with his horse.
“I was thinking for each correct guess, pick your poison for someone or yourself—a champagne Jell-O shot or a chocolate truffle?” Shana suggested.
Forcing herself back into the present moment, Glenna decided to be helpful. “Where are the truffles and alcohol?”
Naomi and Shana each swept a silver cover off a platter just as the wide screen televisions hummed to life. Each TV went to split screen, with multiple profiles.
“Oh, oh!” Her cousin Sage’s hand shot into the air. “Well, this is easy enough. I see five guys with creepster in their profile name. Like ‘Legman.’ Four guys reference their penis length.”
“Eww.” Alayna shook her head. “And there are two with ‘hard’ in their name.” Both she and Sage rushed to the minibar and popped an assortment of champagne Jell-O shots and truffles into their mouths. They savored them with closed eyes, yums and mmms.
Glenna crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Do guys really think we go for that level of slime?” She pointed to another screen. “The guys on the left side appear real.”
Yes, for the moment, she would play this game and drink a little champagne, then she’d be on her way.
Her eyes went to Broderick again. She wasn’t in any condition to be in the same room with him once the men came back inside. She’d spent so much time with him this week, she couldn’t handle being in this house with him surrounded by family. It was too close to the cozy mistletoe image he’d painted for her back in his office.
Naomi nodded. “Well done, future stepsister. Help yourself to the treats.”
Stepsister? Glenna made a beeline for the champagne shots. Another mark on the why-anything-with-Broderick would be infinitely complicated. The sweet, slippery shot with a kick sent a delicious tingle along her senses. Yes. Just what she needed. This would be her treat of choice for the duration of the game.
Especially if she expected to get through an evening with Broderick and keep her sanity.
“I’m sure there are good ones out there, too. Honest ones.” Glenna considered another shot, just for the hell of it.
“We could do a percentage chart of how many there are, and I’m guessing it will all average out. The point here is to be wise, ladies. Be wise.”
Naomi snorted. “Or stay single.”
Shana laughed. “Cynic.”
“Realist.” Naomi waved to the minibar. “Please help yourself to the food before the men return.”
“What?” Alayna stood, swaying a little, clearly a drinking lightweight. “That’s it?”
“Would you have preferred a male stripper?” Naomi’s laugh was hoarse and deep. Genuine. Glenna liked her honesty.
“Let it be known for the record,” Naomi continued, winking with playful mischief that almost hid the tension in her face, a tension echoed in all of them at this forced gathering. “I would have voted for a stripper, a cowboy. Or at the very least a lingerie shower, but your sister-in-law shot down those ideas.”
Shana shrugged. “I wasn’t sure Jeannie would approve. Now, let’s enjoy this amazing food. The Steeles’ chef is truly exceptional I have to say. Jeannie? A Jell-O shot?”
Jeannie shook her head, her shoulder-length hair brushing her shoulders in a blond-gray echo of her children’s coloring.
Alayna stumbled over and gripped her mother’s arm. “You’re not pregnant, are you, Mom? Do we need to have a talk with you before the wedding?”
Glenna’s thoughts winged back to the night before her own wedding. Her mom and sister had gathered around her as they ate ice cream and watched chick flicks. Nostalgia and regret rolled over her.
Jeannie patted Alayna’s hand, dismissive and amused. The matriarch winked. “I think I’ve got that covered.”
“Clearly.” Glenna’s mind skipped over the images of that fateful walk in and moved right to memories of a
similar shower moment with Broderick back in college. God, she needed to speed this party along, snag her coat and leave. “Perhaps you could give us some notes—”
The burgeoning camaraderie was cut short by a swelling of voices outside. Louder and louder, even shouting. Glenna shot to her feet, searching through the windows. The men were sliding from their horses beside a Range Rover. A young woman stood beside the car, holding a baby swaddled in a pink parka.
Curiosity brought Glenna to the edge of her seat, her eyes drawn to that precious bundle. Murmurs filled the sunroom, but Glenna only half heard. Her gaze was still trained beyond the windows. Before she could question the wisdom of her action, she stood and reached for her white wool coat and cashmere scarf.
Two guards raced from the fence line, closing in on the group of men dismounting.
Inside, the other women at the party gathered up their coats, too, without a break in their buzz of chatter, but Glenna led the pack, being the closest to the exit. She tugged on her coat and pulled open the door. A blast of crisp air washed over her.
Voices carried on the breeze.
“Ma’am.” Conrad held up two hands. “I’ve never touched you.”
What the hell? Glenna’s eyes shifted back to the baby, her heart aching as it always did when she saw a child, given the loss of so many pregnancies. She’d never even made it to the second trimester. Never felt life move inside her.
The stranger jostled the baby on her hip and fished an envelope from her jacket pocket. “I’m not little Fleur’s mother. I work for Mr. Steele—the senior Mr. Steele. Someone—I don’t know how—left the baby in the barn and I found her while I was refilling the food and water troughs for your return. Security is still trying to figure out how the baby was brought in. But there was a note on top of her...”
Jack took the envelope from her hand, glanced at the outside. Blinking fast, he looked sharply at Broderick, then Glenna, giving only a moment’s heart-stopping warning before he announced, “It’s addressed to Broderick...and Glenna.”
Five
Glenna’s stomach clenched as Jack read the outside of the envelope...addressed to her and Broderick?
Gasps rippled through the family crowded around her, sending puffs into the cold air. She glanced at Broderick, but found no answers on his handsome face. He looked as puzzled as she felt. He rubbed his temple, just under the brim of his Stetson.
Glenna pulled her gaze away from his strong, beard-stubbled jaw. What did this child have to do with her? With both of them? Even as she thought the question, she couldn’t help but reach for the little bundle in a pink parka and a blanket. The sweet weight settling into her arms was a precious, squirming joy. Her heart swelled. She stroked a knuckle along the cherub’s cheek. Wide blue eyes blinked up at her, the tiny mouth sucking on a pacifier.
She felt Broderick step up behind her, his boots crunching through the snow. She glanced back to see him look over her shoulder at the baby, then over at Jack, who was still staring at the letter.
Glenna hugged the child closer, the pink blanket trailing from her arms. “What does the note say?”
The paper crackled as Jack handed it back to the secretary who handled it carefully, as if preserving evidence, and then withdrew a sheet of paper. A swirly scrawl filled the pristine white surface. “Um, sir...” The woman from the barn passed the paper to Jack Steele. “You may want to read this. I’m not comfortable with, um, well...”
A hint of snow started whispering from the sky as Jack took the paper and then pulled a second typed document from the envelope, scanning both while tipping them for Jeannie to see. “The note says she isn’t sure who the baby’s father is,” he reported. “She sent a birth certificate for a three-month-old baby named Fleur Wilson. It lists the mother’s name as Deborah Wilson...”
Jack looked over his glasses at his oldest son and Broderick’s eyebrows shot up. Tellingly so. Glenna swallowed hard. The name was unfamiliar to her, though.
Jack glanced down, swiped a few snowflakes from his glasses and continued. “She goes on to write there’s no use in looking for her. She’s already in Canada and will contact us when she’s ready. But for now, she wants her child to be with family.” He cleared his throat. “Her message says she isn’t sure if the father is Broderick or...”
Jeannie rested a hand on his shoulder, took the papers and walked over to her daughter, worry was stamped across the older woman’s face. “Glenna, the note says the father could also be Gage. I’m sorry to even have to say that out loud.”
Glenna bit back a gasp. Her dead husband could be the father of this child?
Even with the gentle voice of her mother delivering the words, Glenna felt the blow of each syllable in her gut. She gasped in a gulp of the crisp air, swaying and forcing to herself to hold on to the baby more securely. She felt the weight of so many eyes on her, this strange mix of family and long-time enemies as she processed news that threatened to bring her to her knees.
Silence reigned, as if the group held their collective breath. Behind her, she heard the snort and stamp of one of the horses.
In some distant part of her consciousness, she realized that Broderick had placed a steadying hand on her waist. Surely he had to be staggering at this revelation, too. She looked into the baby’s face, searching the features for a magic clue to the parentage. She eased back the baby’s hood and knit cap to find light brown hair. No real clue there. She shielded the tiny face with her hand to keep the snowflakes from landing.
It seemed the more she stared at the infant, the more this little girl became her own person. With each passing second, her face became more distinctly different from Gage’s or Broderick’s.
Glenna shook her head while swaying to rock the baby. The swishing movement calmed her as much as it did the little babe. With a slow exhalation, she said, “It’s okay.” The words steadied her. “Don’t tiptoe around or worry about what needs to be said. The most important thing is that we focus on this child and making sure she’s safe and healthy.”
Broderick nodded tightly. “We should contact the police. She could be a kidnapped child.”
“Oh, God,” Glenna gasped, and studied the baby’s face again. Such innocence, unaware of the chaos in her world. Thank God. “I never considered that possibility. We should check with the authorities.”
Broderick’s brother Marshall—the middle Steele son—took the papers from Jeannie. “I’ll meet with our security team here and we’ll contact the police. We can find out if there are missing child alerts, and let them know the baby is here.”
“Thank you, son,” Jack said.
Glenna’s mind began to clear. “We should go inside where it’s warm and dry. We also need to make sure she has fresh formula.” She found comfort in taking control as she charged toward the towering redwood mansion. “I’m assuming the note doesn’t say when she ate last. She could be hungry any moment now, and she’s been through enough change without having to be uncomfortable for even an instant.”
Broderick scooped up a pink checkered diaper bag and walked beside her. “Apparently, she came with this.” He unzipped the sack. “It looks like there are some of her things inside.”
What was he thinking right now? This could be his child. Had that registered with him? Glenna couldn’t envision him as a single father.
Truly, she couldn’t envision much of anything at the moment. “I’m not sure I trust anything dropped off by a stranger who dumped her baby with people the poor little tyke has never met. At least we can use the formula brand to go shopping.” She climbed the wooden steps to the back deck of the Steele mansion, all too aware of Broderick’s bracing hand on her back. A steadying and unsettling assurance all at once. “Bottom line, this baby is an innocent and she needs our help.”
Her thoughts winged fast to the reality of sharing this baby with Broderick, even for a short time. She coul
dn’t help but feel the strength of his touch, and yes, a tingle of awareness where each of his fingers settled on her back. He would make a powerful partner for a woman.
And she couldn’t deny that seeing him in this new light was flipping her world upside down.
* * *
Broderick paced around the lodge’s great room.
Even in this expansive space, he felt caged in, waiting for Glenna to join him with the baby...
The baby.
Potentially his baby.
Fleur.
He didn’t know what he thought about the possibility of being a father. Of what this would mean for his attraction to Glenna or the fact that he wanted to pursue her even in the middle of family drama.
He couldn’t help but think about the possessiveness he’d felt earlier when he’d placed his arm around Glenna. Seeing the way she cradled the child—possibly his child—had burned through him with a fierceness that rattled him even now.
Each successive lap on the thick rug brought more questions, more unease.
Every stable aspect of his life had been yanked from him in a very short time.
Boots thudding off the carpet, Broderick made his way to the stone fireplace. Flames danced along the logs, casting orange-tinged shadows in the room lit only by a small table lamp.
A stranger walking in would mistake the space as soothing and luxurious. But right now, tension hummed so palpably through Broderick that he was sure it filled the space around him.
And he wasn’t sure how to fix the world again.
He paused in front of the fireplace, kneeling to stoke the flames to a crackling blaze. One of the logs settled with a shower of sparks.
Hungry for normalcy, he surveyed the room. The fireplace wall was dominated by massive moose antlers—a family heirloom that had belonged to his great-grandfather when Steele Industries was just getting started. Back when Alaska was a wilderness to be conquered. Tall ceilings normally provided an airy balance to the thick leather sofas that filled the room, but did nothing to alleviate the pressure and confusion jackhammering in Broderick’s mind.
The Baby Claim Page 5