Secret Baby (The House of Morgan, #2)

by Victoria Pinder

  Colt lost some of his steam. "I remember your old man."

  Vicki repeated facts he remembered: "He held a shotgun to your head that summer he found out about us in Paris. You'd ruin his plans for me, and he said that before I even knew I was pregnant."

  "He had seen us naked at the lake." Colt crossed his arms. "I'd shoot any boy that came near Clara."

  "It's not the same thing. My father sought to control."

  His collar grew tight. "You could have called me. If you were in trouble, I could have kept you safe too."

  "You're talking about my father and my family. He was all I had, all I knew." Vicki sobbed for a second then composed herself. "I don't want to fight with you. I'm happy my baby had you to keep her safe."

  His entire body tensed. "Don't call her that. Clara is nothing but gum under your shoe until the second a new idea pops into your head."

  "No." She almost broke into sobs. He rubbed his neck again to find some relief, but her voice haunted him. "I've not lived a day in six years, one months, two weeks, one day, and twenty-two hours. That was when the doctors told me she died."

  Her numbers added up, and he hated hurting anyone. He dared not believe her, but his gut told him to. He shook his head, but her shaky numbers chipped away at him. With his lips sealed, he tapped his tongue to his cheek, and depended on his logic. Finally he opened his mouth and said, "Where were you?"

  "It doesn't matter." She was right. Not that he said that. He stayed silent.

  She sniffled. "I should have told you. I should have called. Dad talked me into being quiet while he stole my life. You know as well as I do that my father could pay anyone to get them to say what he wanted."

  A memory flashed in his mind of her father. He had snidely told Vicki, "The Collins are too boring for the likes of you. Daughters end up married to men like their dad, and your crush on middle-class values will end." His nostrils flared again.

  "And you would do anything to please that man who stole more money than most countries' entire GDP," he said.

  "I should have trusted you, not him." Her pleading voice hit more buttons in him, and he defused. "What daughter doesn't want her father's love? I didn't know he'd go this far. He ruined my life."

  Not one word came out of his mouth. He couldn't close his jaw, but then he gazed down the hall toward his daughter's bedroom. "It's not about you. It's about Clara."

  He hadn't known what else to say. He went to the fridge and found the bottle opener for a second beer. The day his mother handed him his daughter changed him. One day after he came out of boot camp, he was a full-time father. Colt had still hoped against reason that Vicki would come back soon. He had wanted an explanation, but the years had been silent.

  In sobs, she begged him, "Colt, are you still on the phone?"

  "Yeah." He sipped his second beer. He shouldn't believe her. He glanced at the wall to his engagement picture. Belle wasn't weak, and didn't need him. Belle's blue eyes could turn a man cold, and she'd never cry, not like Vicki. Vicki's baby-blue eyes and blonde hair still had left the impression of soft and innocent. He let out an audible sigh. "Look. Let's meet tomorrow. I'll get a sitter. Meet you for coffee at that shop we all went to after high school."

  "Thank you. See you at eight a.m. I'll bring proof he lied."

  "Give me time to get the babysitter. Eleven is better." Excitement wasn't what he wanted from her. But if he believed her, then he'd be a jerk to stand in the way.

  "Okay. Colt, I'm sure you are a great dad."

  Tonight he slept on it. "I don't want to get your hopes up, Vicki, but this conversation shouldn't be over the phone."

  Her pitch grew higher, and so did his heart when she answered, "I can't wait for tomorrow. Colt. Thank you."

  He pictured her jumping up and down on the other end. The image of her bright smile of pearly white teeth caused a small smile on his face. Clara had the same innocence as her mother. He sipped his bottle and told her, "Stop. Good night."

  "Night."

  He clicked end on his phone, but he couldn't hold still either. Victoria had haunted his dreams for years, and he had always wondered what happened. Belle's picture grabbed his attention. He shouldn't respond to his curiosity about Vicki anymore. She was his past, and he was engaged. Even if he believed her, nothing changed in his life.

  Belle. His fiancée should matter. They were getting married in a few weeks, at her insistence. With Vicki, he'd work out time for her to be with their daughter, if she agreed to share. He'd not let anyone hurt Clara.

  What would Belle say about Vicki? Her voice raced through his head as she answered, "Don't believe liars, Colt." He swallowed and then scrolled through his phone. For a second he stared at her picture again. He knew what she'd say, and he'd hang up more confused. His heart fluttered as he remembered Vicki's wide eyes at his sister's house today. His cheeks grew warmer and he told himself marriage required trust. He swallowed, and then dialed.

  In less than a ring, Belle answered, "Colt, honey, I'm so glad you called. I need you here in DC."

  He closed his eyes and inhaled. "I told you I'm staying in Florida to raise my daughter. I'm not a lobbyist."

  "You're too important to go home and disappear, Colt. We need you here. We have important work..."

  He could imagine how she sipped her latte with extra foam as she prepared for another debate on gun control. The never-ending debate wasn't what he wanted to spend days on. "This is my home."

  "You are more than a boring farm."

  It sounded like she was clomping somewhere in heels. "It's near Miami. Life is never boring here."

  She sighed. "Honey, I need you. Senator Thrax won't talk to a woman."

  Politics could wait. He shook his head. "I need to talk to you about Clara."

  "Is your daughter okay?" At least she stopped her clip-clopping on the other end.

  He huffed out, "She's fine."

  The ching of a register rang through the phone. A moment later, she sipped what was probably her sixth latte of the day. He took another sip of his beer and waited. Finally, she told him, "Good. There are some great private schools here."

  He crossed his arms. "Stop. It's not going to happen. I have to tell you something."

  "What? Colt, don't leave me in suspense. Just spit it out."

  Belle was silent, and he closed his eyes. "I saw her mother today."

  No background noise greeted his ear. He placed his beer on the table and opened his eyes. Slowly, she answered him. "Clara has a mother? I thought she was a motherless child."

  He picked his beer back up and sipped. "She has her grandma in that role. You know that."

  A sound of a car door slammed behind her. "Oh, so you spent the day with your mother. I must have misheard."

  Belle must be busy. She'd taken the high-paying job to lobby for the gun manufacturers for military weapons, despite his intention to retire back to his ranch and never fight in another war. He'd told her his plans. She'd proposed to him, and somehow he had accepted. Now he had made a promise to her, and hadn't changed his mind on the ranch. He sipped his beer again, then told her, "No. You didn't misunderstand me. Clara's birth mother walked into my sister's place unannounced."

  "What? Colt, are you saying this to get me to fly down to Nowheresville faster?"

  "No." He clutched his phone. "Homestead is my home, and soon to be yours too. In war, I went to bed every night and dreamed about this place."

  "Colt, we're not children. Washington."

  He almost finished his beer now. This conversation wasn't what he needed. "Stop. It's not good for Clara."

  "Having a daughter didn't stop you from service. You trusted your parents."

  "They aren't here now."

  "You're making this difficult, honey."

  Belle made time for senators, guns, and war. Clara deserved sweetness. "You'll see the place next week, as we planned. I should go."

  "I'm not happy," she said. "You should be here."

  He cl
osed his eyes and pictured the wide openness of the range. He'd be on his horse and everything else would right itself. He'd lost his fighting edge long ago. "Good night, Belle. I'll see you next week."

  She sighed and whispered, "Colt, I'll be there as soon as I can. I miss you."

  Soon he'd marry Belle. He'd keep his promise, and with time she'd like it here. Belle would eventually ease into the place, then she'd quit her busy job. His family owned at least a quarter of all Florida farmland of orange groves. Soon enough the running of the agricultural corporation would fall on his shoulders, and he'd not deal with the military. The Collins organic empire would continue to prosper, and Clara would never suffer. "I miss you too, honey. Night."

  As he turned off his phone and set it to charge, Vicki's easy smile haunted him.

  He headed to bed. All the women in his life confused him, and Belle had somehow joined the number. He yawned and collapsed on his bed. Tomorrow, after a good night's sleep, he hoped he'd have a sense of clarity. Today's visit to his sister had changed everything, and Vicki might be permanent in his life. He had no idea of his next move.

  The moment he closed his eyes, he remembered Vicki's sweet smile at him that day in the coffee shop as they discussed football, or how her rosy smell had mixed into the essence of her taste. She had been the captain of the cheerleaders, and watched every game with such intensity.

  The past should stay in his memory. He had his daughter.

  He'd fallen instantly for his baby girl, but the mother had always been a mystery. What if she had been lied to? Did he dare believe her tale, or did that make him a sucker?

  CHAPTER THREE

  With the moon still in the morning sky and the humidity not quite pressing so heavily right now, Vicki clutched her car steering wheel. Eleven o'clock was so far away. Her heart raced.

  If she barged down Colt's door and yelled and demanded, she wouldn't help her cause. Today she had to be a lady. Her mind whirled with possibilities, but she dare not act. He'd set the time for eleven to meet, and she respected that. He'd raised their daughter, and she'd not fight him, if she could avoid it. Colt could be reasonable. She'd not see their daughter today, but one-on-one conversation with Colt was a good start.

  Her fingers curled so tight that her hands were white. Her whirlwind of thoughts wasn't helping.

  She started her car and eased in her seat to drive. Vicki fought her heart, which begged to beat on his door, but she forced herself to turn toward work. Work would be good right now, and she had to prove to herself she was fine. She'd go to the bridal boutique she'd opened, despite how her skin jumped. Weddings were like music, and people's happiness buoyed her own spirits. She'd rearrange the store in the early morning hours. She'd always had a good eye. Then she'd let Josie earn her pay as the manager.

  Eleven o'clock would be here soon enough. Vicki sighed to relax and drove down the familiar street.

  She'd be reasonable if he would. But no one would keep her from her daughter. She'd take Colt down if she had to. She stared at a stop sign and jerked her car to a stop. She shouldn't have almost missed that.

  Wait. It wasn't a good idea to be so defensive. She rolled her shoulders and parked the car in her usual spot. No one was here. She clutched her bag and went inside. Without a thought, she walked inside and picked up a few dresses to move back to the shelf.

  Once the storm of crazy thoughts in her head passed, she blinked. Her heart still raced, but she worked hard to bring order into her new business. She had to prove to Peter that her dreams of a store weren't a passing phase in her life. Her brother's name alone spurred her into action, and once she was done with straightening out yesterday's leftover dresses and placing them onto the shelves, she stared at the clock. The time was almost here.

  A smile broke out on her face as she read ten thirty. Her stomach rumbled with nerves again. With an intake of breath, she let her heart lift in her chest. She quickly left the shop, and raced toward the coffee shop a few blocks away. The small café had a chalkboard with all the drink options, and the waiters all wore green aprons. She sniffed the air. The pastries were freshly prepared. The room was airy, clean, fresh, and bright. Colt had picked a good place.

  She stood in line. In her younger years, she'd preferred to stay here than go home. She always chose the seat in the back that overlooked the window patio to see who would drive in, in case someone from her father's world found her.

  Vicki became jumpy again. She had no time for reminiscing. She played with the edge of her designer no-sleeves pale pink work blouse, and waited at the cashier. Once the woman nodded, she ordered a decadent cold frappe, something she'd hadn't ordered since her teenage years, and a bagel. She was early, so she'd grab their old seat, if it was available.

  Her palms were sweaty as she added her receipt to her wallet, and told herself she needed to be smart. Her daughter was safe and alive. Colt Collins hadn't dismissed her and threatened court. He'd been willing to listen, and she had to be prepared. The boy she knew was sweet and fair. She gulped. The man she saw the other day was hard-bodied and capable of anything. She sighed and refused to let her mind wander into the "what if" questions that flashed in front of her eyes. He'd hear her out.

  A pain stabbed her in the gut. If she had trusted him and not her father, her life would be so different today.

  At the window, she stared at the clear blue sky. Everything was so bright today. Slowly, she rolled her shoulders back and then straightened out her pencil skirt. A Morgan on a mission must always smile and hide her intentions. The rest of the world might believe that the Morgans were respectable, but those who knew her, John, or Peter knew the truth. The House of Morgan was a facade. Her grandfather and father had stolen Collins land years ago for oil and transformed the money into a banking empire. As a child, she's always wondered about her mother, and she'd not do that to Clara. Clara deserved better.

  A black pick-up truck parked, but Vicki knew it wasn't Colt. The waitress brought her drink and bagel. Everything in her life was wrong.

  Vicki's shoulders tightened and her neck pinched.

  Overhead, the bells chimed, and she scanned the counter. Goosebumps grew on her arm as she smelled orange trees mixed with the forest. Colt wasn't inside, but then she saw his blue truck turning into the parking lot. She sat straighter. This was real. She swallowed as her breathing became more shallow. She rolled her shoulders and tried to sip her drink.

  Her body was on overdrive as he stepped out of his truck and walked toward the shop. She straightened her necklace. Colt Collins was an honorable sort and would join her any second. In high school, Collins had a brilliant mind and kind heart. Then he joined the Marines, and Vicki had no doubt he excelled there too.

  The waitress came over and asked, "Can I get you anything else?"

  Vicki swallowed. "No, I'm good. My friend just parked."

  The waitress with the curly hair shrugged. "He is the sexiest man I've seen all day."

  Vicki coughed. No man she ever met came close to Colt. His dark hair, brown eyes, and now all those hard muscles. He had somehow added to perfection. "He's a good man, and he'll order his drink at the front."

  "I'm on my way, then. Won't have you waiting for someone that sexy." The waitress departed, and Vicki ran her hand through her hair. If she intended to be reasonable, then she needed to stay calm. His deep voice wafted through the air, and her body was on high alert.

  She stroked her throat and picked at her bagel. She sighed, and then straightened in her seat to stop her fidgeting. Motherhood had been stolen from her. She crossed her legs, and swallowed.

  Tonight, she would call her lawyer from her brother's company, Grumpkins, and tell him to dig up more information on how their father had accomplished this. She'd use her family name to hire an army of lawyers, if she had to get Clara in her life.

  Colt walked toward her now, and she met his stare.

  Her skin stayed sensitive. She rubbed the back of her neck, picked up the cup, and took a
sip in an effort to calm down.

  Serenity filled her nostrils for that one second until her skin grew goosebumps and that woodsy smell invaded. Without a word, he sat across from her. Her heart raced faster and faster now, so she opened her mouth and told him flatly, "You're late."

  "The sitter showed up a few minutes late. I came as soon as I could." Colt's voice had grown deeper and hotter. Her hands shook as she gripped her coffee mug. Then she met his gaze, so she stood to break the spell she was under.

  He stood as well, and blocked her view of the rest of the cafe. "Sit, Victoria."

  "Vicki is fine." The butterflies in her stomach didn't stop when she took in the sight of him. Six foot three. All muscles, and those brown eyes of his that she'd never forgotten. But the scowl on his face told her plenty, and she scanned for the exit for escape. "I am nervous."

  "You're going to jump out of your skin, woman. Sit down. I don't bite." Colt slowly slid into the bench across from her, and she sat slowly. Her toes and knees bounced, but she tried to sit still. She jittered, and it wasn't from the coffee.

  The waitress returned, and brought Colt his coffee in a mug. Calmness began to return to Vicki's skin, and she stared at the table until the waitress left. Then she whispered, "I've not been here in a while. I don't have a chance to come out to the country now that Alice lives in the city."

  "Yeah, Alice told me she misses this place too."

  The shakiness and nerves weren't mature at all. Get a hold of yourself, she yelled in her mind. Colt wasn't her enemy. He kept their daughter safe. She gripped the bottom of her chair as she tentatively glanced into his eyes. "I've been helping with the wedding plans."

  He leaned across the table and pushed his coffee cup to the side. "One would think you weren't just named Miami's Prettiest Bachelorette last week."

  "You saw that?"

  "Yeah."

  She pressed her lips together. "That kind of thing doesn't matter to me."

  He sipped his coffee cup and stared at her like she was an alien creature. "It used to matter to you."