Cowboy's Secret Son

by Robin Perini

  She clutched Jared’s arm. “I won’t involve law enforcement. It’s too risky. He knows too much.”

  Would Jared agree? Was she being foolish? They’d killed Marilyn in cold blood. She couldn’t bear it if Dylan... A stark shiver skittered through her. No, she was doing the right thing. She had to be.

  “Hey there.” Jared touched her knee and squeezed gently. “I understand, more than you know.”

  Relieved Jared seemed to see the situation her way, Courtney’s shoulders relaxed, but only slightly. “Good.”

  “Courtney, do you think the blackmailer knows who I am? Is he aware Dylan is my son and that you’ve come to me?”

  “They can’t know. I didn’t know your name until a week ago.” She bit her lip. She had to tell him everything, but if he turned her away... She let out a long, slow breath. “I only learned where you lived yesterday, but...” Her gut twisted and she pulled the cell phone from her purse. “They ordered me to keep this phone with me at all times. If they can track it, they know exactly where I am.”

  Jared didn’t speak for a moment. Courtney held her breath, every muscle in her body taut with apprehension.

  “There goes any advantage we might have had.” He shot to his feet and paced, “Okay. Let’s minimize your exposure as a precaution. Where did your plane land?”

  “San Antonio.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. Why hadn’t she thought this through more? “I should have driven, shouldn’t I? I used our real names to board.”

  “It’s not easy to get passenger lists unless you’re with law enforcement or a hacker,” Jared said, his voice calm and reassuring. “Most rental company cars have GPS tracking, though.”

  She slapped her hand over her mouth. “I didn’t even consider that possibility.”

  “Why should you? One of my hands will return the vehicle to the airport, but we should still assume they know you’re here and will contact you.”

  Jared settled across from her and leaned forward. “Let’s get down to the real question. Are you asking me to help catch whoever wrote the note or do you want to pay the ransom?”

  Panic rose in her gut and she clutched tighter at Dylan. “I’d do anything to protect him.” Courtney avoided his piercing gaze. “The thing is, I could scrape together maybe fifteen percent of it, but I don’t have the kind of money they want.”

  “They were very specific in their request. Are you telling me that not only does the ransom amount hold no meaning to you, you don’t have enough to pay?” Jared stilled. “I don’t know much about New York fashion, but that’s a very expensive designer dress you’re wearing and the Waldorf doesn’t come cheap. What kind of game are you playing?”

  His narrowed look pinned her to her seat. She averted her gaze.

  “It’s not a game.” She twisted the button on Dylan’s clothes, struggling to ignore the suspicious tone in his voice. “I thought my father could give me the money, but his situation has...changed. Last week the bank ran out of patience.”

  “So that’s why you’re here.” Jared stiffened and pulled away from her. “You don’t need me. You need my money.”

  His tone indicted her, and she couldn’t blame him. Most people would’ve been insulted and deep down the tone stung, but she understood. How many people had come into her life to get what they could? She’d learned a long time ago not to trust so easily. Or let anyone in. It was one of the main reasons she’d chosen not to live off the family money.

  That didn’t stop her from bristling at the accusation. “I came here to figure out what to do,” she said. “I can’t deny that you’re the one person who can help me pay the ransom, but you’re also the only one who has as much to lose as I do. I’m out of options to keep my...our son safe.”

  Our son. She’d have to get used to saying that.

  Jared didn’t speak for a moment. His reproachful gaze burned into her. She met it with unblinking eyes. Obviously he didn’t doubt Dylan was his son. How could he? Their matching eyes were the tell. But the threat, the money, that could be an elaborate hoax. If Jared didn’t believe her, she had no plan B.

  She gnawed on her lower lip considering her options. There were none.

  “We’re not paying.” The muscle in his jaw pulsed. “I refuse to be blackmailed. They’ll just keep coming and it will never end.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head. “This is nonnegotiable. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep our son safe. Giving into a blackmailer isn’t the answer. I know—” His voice cracked. “Excuse me.”

  He quickly rose, scooped up the rifle and strode out of the room, shutting the door with a soft click.

  Courtney stared after him. She wasn’t quite sure what had just happened. She rocked Dylan against her, staring at the closed doors. Jared King wasn’t what she’d expected. He definitely wasn’t the suave man she’d encountered in the bar of the Waldorf, but she didn’t need that man. She needed a fighter, and she’d witnessed the fury in his eyes.

  For the first time since she’d walked into her apartment she felt a slight easing in her breath. Jared King was a warrior. A warrior with money.

  A warrior willing to help them.

  Whatever he thought of her, something in the set of his jaw gave her a glimmer of hope that Jared wouldn’t fail.

  She had to believe that. For Dylan’s sake...and her own.

  * * *

  JARED SAGGED AGAINST the heavy doors of his study, his entire body shaking. The idea someone might kidnap his son... This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

  Though unlike Alyssa, who had been taken without warning, the threat to his son had put them on notice. He would do whatever it took to prevent the abduction.

  This time, the outcome would be much different. Only one question ate at his gut. Was Courtney Jamison telling the truth. Was she a victim, or was she after his money? And how could he be sure?

  He’d find out which, but it didn’t impact his actions. Whether she was trying to play him or not, he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to Dylan.

  The rest...well, the truth would come out. It always did.

  Velma exited the kitchen carrying a tray. “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone’s threatened to kidnap my son. They demanded a lot of money or they’ll take him.”

  She gasped, set the tray on the foyer table and walked over to him. She pressed her palm to his chest in comfort. “This isn’t five years ago.”

  “You’re damned right it isn’t. I’ll be smarter this time.” Jared shoulders knotted as he stood there. He couldn’t meet Velma’s gaze. He gritted his teeth. “It feels the same. I’m shaking, Velma. Like the moment I walked into the nursery and found the message.”

  “It’s not the same. It’s not him. This doesn’t have anything to do with you or your past. You didn’t even know about the boy until she arrived.”

  “Maybe.” Jared shot Velma a sidelong glance. “Did you see him, Velma? He looks like me.”

  She patted his cheek. “I know, boyo. No doubt about who his daddy is.”

  Jared stared at the scuffed toes of his boots. “I’m going to lose him, you know. Even if we catch the person threatening my son, Courtney won’t stay. They don’t belong here.”

  “Just because Alyssa didn’t fit in—”

  “Like you always say, the past is over.” He gently eased away from her. “Have Tim quit messing with Angel Maker so he can bring in Courtney’s luggage. Put her in the room across from mine. I want to be close at all times.” The staccato words came out harsher and more clipped than he intended. He bent down and kissed her cheek in apology. “I’ll be back. I have some plans to make.”

  He turned on his heel.

  “Jared?” Velma called out. “He needs a safe place to sleep while he’s here.”

  He slowed his pace, but didn’t stop.


  “Don’t let the past rule the present, boyo. You’ll regret it.”

  Did she think he didn’t know that? Did she have any idea how tempted he was to grab that little boy and hug him tight. To take Courtney into his arms and convince her that they could make a city girl–country boy relationship work like a Hallmark movie.

  Except life wasn’t a movie. There were no happy-ever-afters. Not in his world.

  There was only reality. And bad guys won way too often.

  Determined not to let history repeat itself, he strode down a barren hallway. His first order of business was to take care of his son. He veered from the door of the brand-new wing he’d completed just last year and made his way to the end of the original house’s hallway.

  He hadn’t opened the door separating the old part of the house since he’d renovated, though Velma kept the place spotless. He stepped through, into the past. A white door loomed at the end of the corridor. His heart pounded, rushing through his ears. He forced his boots to cross the decade-old carpet to the end. For a moment he stood there. With a deep breath, he turned the knob and walked inside.

  A never-used crib rested in the corner of the room. A yellow crocheted blanket lay abandoned on the floor. As his gaze took inventory of each item, one after another, pain twisted his heart. He would have bent over in agony if he’d allowed himself to feel. This room represented his failure to protect his family. And the threat that still loomed large over his life, a threat he would never deny.

  He let his attention settle on a large hole in the drywall, marring the perfect paint job. A sledgehammer lay beneath the opening, a tool he’d swung with anger and fury and unrelenting grief.

  Jared hadn’t ventured inside the room in five years. He almost hadn’t climbed out of the dark abyss after losing Alyssa and their unborn daughter. He couldn’t go through that kind of pain again.

  Jared would make it impossible for the blackmailers to harm his son. To do that, he needed to identify the person who wrote the ransom note.

  Actually, it was more like a blackmail note. A demand before the kidnapping. Strange. Dylan hadn’t been taken, but he could have been.

  Why? What was the end game? To take a nine-month-old baby? To hurt Courtney? The more he considered the note she’d shared with him, the more he kept coming back to the unusual ransom amount. The number had to be the key.

  He’d do whatever it took to find out who had threatened his son, and make them pay.

  And then what? Jared closed his eyes. The moment he’d recognized Dylan as his child, his soul had threatened to reawaken.

  He couldn’t allow it.

  After it was over he’d send both of them away, back to the city, where they belonged.

  And when they left, Jared had no doubt what was left of his heart would crumble to dust.

  Chapter Three

  A bright beam of afternoon sun slipped through the closed curtains and cut a shard of light across the study’s rug. A few muffled shouts echoed from outside, but they were orders, not panic.

  No way anyone could have followed her already...right? Jared was just being cautious. Exactly as she’d hoped.

  Courtney glanced down at Dylan. The biscuit had fallen from his hand. He’d succumbed to sleep. At least someone felt safe after the last twenty-four hours.

  She brushed his hair off his brow. “Oh, Jelly Bean. What have we gotten ourselves into?”

  Her mind whirled with confusion. She didn’t know what to think. On the one hand Jared appeared to be enamored with his son. On the other, he’d obviously felt used because of his money and had vanished out of the room as if he wanted nothing to do with her.

  In any other situation, Courtney might have stalked out and headed back to the airport, but she didn’t have that option. Neither of them did. Not when the most important person in their lives was so very vulnerable.

  Dylan sniffed and turned his head against her breast. He snuggled in closer and she closed her eyes, just holding him.

  Nothing could happen to him. She wouldn’t let him be harmed. No matter what the consequences.

  She’d already made too many mistakes. Whoever had threatened her knew enough about her habits to recognized that she hired cars from a single trusted vendor. They’d obviously been watching her for a while.

  She’d resigned herself that the blackmailer would follow her and find her. She had no choice but to see her plan through.

  A soft knock sounded on the door.

  Velma walked in and set a tray down on the coffee table. “I brought coffee and cake,” she said in a whisper, a frown worrying her brow.

  The housekeeper glanced from Courtney to Dylan and back again. She shook her head slowly and clicked her tongue. “This isn’t good.”

  Courtney stiffened, frowning at the woman who’d seemed almost too friendly outside. “I’m only here for Dylan. Believe me,” Courtney retorted in a tight whisper.

  “Calm down, dearie. I’m not judging you.” Velma studied her with an eerie gaze, as if she were trying to peer directly into Courtney’s soul.

  After several moments, Velma nodded. She’d obviously made a decision. “You were right to come. Jared will protect you and your son, and he needed to know about young Dylan. It’s just...” Velma poured a cup of coffee, and a bit sloshed over the side.

  “Bother.” She mopped up the spill, then gave up and sat in the chair opposite Courtney.

  “I’m sorry for snapping. My nerves are frazzled,” Courtney muttered. She chewed on her lower lip. Dylan shifted against her chest, and she cradled the baby protectively. “All that matters to me is him.”

  “As it should.” Velma twisted her hands in her apron before raising her chin and meeting Courtney’s gaze. “I’ll say this only once, and we’ll never speak of it again. If you hurt Jared, I won’t let it pass. You’ll find me a formidable enemy.”

  Courtney didn’t know how to respond. She opened her mouth to speak and Velma held up her hand.

  “But, if you are who I believe you to be, I’ll stand beside you and fight the powers of hell to protect Jared’s son.” She clasped Courtney’s hands. “I’m just afraid the two of you will break my boyo’s heart.”

  Velma’s unexpected words slapped Courtney in the face. “I’m not trying to hurt him.”

  “I believe you, but you will anyway. Jared might appear as impenetrable as a rock and too strong to wound, but he’s been injured to the core of his soul. He sealed off his heart. You represent every dream he ever had and a nightmare he’s barely survived.”

  The enormity of Velma’s statement gave Courtney chills. “What happened?”

  “It’s not my story to tell.” A marked sadness glistened in Velma’s eyes. “Ms. Jamison, you brought trouble here. Jared will give his life to save you and Dylan without a second thought. Please don’t pierce his armor. Leave him be. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt again.”

  Before Courtney could process the cryptic words, Jared strode into the room. “We need a few moments, Velma. Alone.”

  The housekeeper left with a last pointed look. Her words made Courtney examine Jared’s expression more closely. She recognized the tension tightening his mouth and the worry in his eyes. But also a caution that she might have interpreted as suspicion before she’d spoken with Velma.

  He sat across from them and pinned her gaze with his. “You’ll stay. I’ll help Dylan all I can, but you need to be honest with me. About everything. Deal?”

  “I expect the same.”

  “That goes without saying.” He crossed his arms, building a thick and solid wall between them. “So, who do you think is threatening you?”

  She’d known he would ask. She wished she had an answer. “I have no idea.”

  His frown deepened. “You must have some theory. You have to have been thinking about it from the moment you read the note.”

/>   “Of course I have.” She raised her voice slightly. Dylan squirmed in her arms and she forced herself to relax, lower her voice. “My life is simple and mundane. It’s just me and Dylan. I can’t imagine who would see me as an enemy.”

  He didn’t respond but she could see the skepticism in his eyes.

  “I’m telling you the truth.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve never heard of a ransom note before a kidnapping. Not to mention the unusually specific amount. Is it connected to your home, your family, your job?”

  “The only numbers in my life matching over three million dollars are items from the gallery and my grandmother’s trust.”

  Those words had him straightening is his chair in clear interest. “Trust?”

  “It may sound promising, but it’s not what you think. The money is specifically earmarked for the running of the gallery. Even the penthouse where I live is reserved for the gallery curator. I have no access to the money.”

  She stroked Dylan’s arm and the baby’s breathing evened again. “There have been a few protests and threatening letters at the museum because of the Native American exhibit. The artifacts were collected during the nineteenth century, but the museum is in the process of returning the authenticated pieces to the original tribes.”

  “What are they worth?”

  She understood the real question behind his query. “In total, a lot more than three million.”

  “So it doesn’t explain the exact dollar amount.” Jared rubbed his temple. “How about one piece?”

  “I’ll contact my assistant and have her look at the insurance values to know if any single artifact would match.”

  “It’s a place to start,” Jared said.

  “But why would they threaten my son and kill Marilyn?”

  “Marilyn was collateral damage, as harsh as that sounds. Dylan is a way to guarantee the money, but the amount has to mean something.” Jared was silent for a moment. “What about relationships?”