Kael (Texas Rascals, #6)

by Lori Wilde

  as Daisy waited to hear about the results of the blood test.

  She spent as much time with the bees as she could, reor-

  ganizing the depleted hives and planning her next move.

  Despite Kael’s assurance that he wouldn’t try to take

  Travis from her, Daisy wasn’t so sure she believed him.

  Kael was rich. He could hire the best lawyers. If he took a

  notion to fight her—

  Her heart wrenched. No. She’d have to convince him not

  to try anything so foolhardy. No matter what she had to do.

  “Daisy!”

  She raised her head and saw Aunt Peavy waving at her

  from the backyard. Shucking her bee veil, Daisy walked

  away from the apiary.

  Sweeping her hand through her hair, she licked her dry

  lips. The bees buzzed erratically around their condensed

  colonies, still shocked from the fire.

  “Telephone,” Aunt Peavy said, holding an imaginary

  receiver to her ear. “It’s the laboratory.”

  This was it. The moment she’d been dreading since

  Travis’s birth. Somewhere deep inside her, she’d always

  known the truth. That Kael and Rose had indeed produced

  this child.

  Aunt Peavy reached out and squeezed her arm. “What-

  ever happens, Daisy, it’s going to be okay.”

  “I wish I could be so sure.”

  “You’re the strongest person I know. You’ll come

  through this with flying colors.”

  Daisy nodded and squared her shoulders. What choice

  did she have? Wiping the dirt from her shoes on the wel-

  come mat, she went into the house and with trembling fin-

  gers, picked up the phone.

  “Hello,” she said, her voice coming out dry and

  scratchy, her hand curling tightly around the receiver. Sud-

  den dizziness made her head swim and her vision blur

  slightly.

  “Is this Ms. Daisy Hightower?”

  “Yes it is.” Daisy blinked, cleared her throat and placed

  a palm flat against the table to brace herself.

  “This is Gina from Kelon Laboratories in Corpus

  Christi.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “We have the results of the paternity testing on Travis.”

  “Go ahead.” It took every ounce of strength Daisy pos-

  sessed to utter those fateful words.

  ‘ ‘The test came back ninety-eight percent conclusive that

  Mr. Kael Carmody is the father of your son.”

  There was only one thing to do. Kael cradled the tele-

  phone receiver and grabbed his Stetson. He was going to

  ask Daisy to marry him, and he refused to take no for an

  answer.

  He was Travis’s father, and the child needed a man in

  the house. Daisy was in deep financial straits, and he had

  the money to provide for her. And bottom line, he still

  loved Daisy. It didn’t matter if she didn’t love him anymore

  or that she could not forgive him for sleeping with Rose.

  She had two very good reasons for marrying him, and Kael

  was not about to give up until he convinced her.

  The feelings swimming through Kael were foreign ones.

  He experienced a surge of fatherly pride followed instantly

  by the conviction that he was completely inept for the chal-

  lenge. He didn’t know anything about being a parent. For

  the first time ever someone would be depending on him,

  and that scared Kael more than ten dozen bucking bulls.

  It was a humbling and awe-inspiring thought.

  He was a father.

  A dad.

  And he’d missed out on so much.

  Fear over his own performance as a parent dissipated as

  a hard chunk of anger wedged inside his head. His son was

  already seven years old!

  He’d been cheated. Robbed of the most precious mo-

  ments of infancy and early childhood. He would never get

  up in the middle of the night and rock his newborn son.

  He would never see Travis’s first steps, hear his first words

  or give him his first bottle.

  Regret, heavy as a knife blade, split him straight through

  the heart.

  The more he thought about it, the madder he got. Daisy

  and Rose had been wrong not to contact him all those years

  ago and tell him he might be a father. Wrong. Wrong.

  Wrong.

  Storming out of the house, Kael grit his teeth. He jumped

  into the pickup and gunned the engine.

  His wrath was so great his hands shook and his foot

  fumbled with the clutch. The pickup shot forward, then

  died.

  The catalog of missed “firsts” continued to tumble

  through Kael’s mind. He started the engine again and

  rammed the accelerator to the floorboard. The truck leaped

  onto the road, grinding gears and spewing gravel in its

  wake.

  First smile, first baby tooth, first birthday cake. First

  Christmas, first skinned knee, first day of school.

  Kael slammed his fist on the steering wheel and acci-

  dentally honked the hom. A farmer, riding a slow-moving

  tractor on the roadside, drove into the ditch to avoid him.

  Kael was so upset it didn’t even register that he’d forced

  the man off the road.

  His entire focus was concentrated on one mission—con-

  fronting Daisy Hightower.

  As long as he’d had the element of doubt about Travis’s

  parentage, Kael had been able to remain calm, but once

  that lady from the lab had removed all but a two percent

  margin of error, his paternal instincts had kicked in with a

  vengeance.

  The tires squealed as he braked to a stop in Daisy’s

  driveway and leaped from the vehicle. He dashed up the

  porch, ignoring the ache in his leg and pounded on her front

  door.

  Aunt Peavy appeared, a frown knitting her brow.

  “Where’s Daisy?” he demanded.

  “Here now, Kael Carmody,” the elderly lady scolded,

  shaking a finger in his face. “You settle down right this

  minute. Daisy is just as disturbed as you are.”

  “Where is she?” Kael repeated. He was long past the

  point of being cajoled.

  Aunt Peavy must have read his intention on his face be-

  cause she opened the door and stepped aside. “She’s up-

  stairs in her room. But I swear if you upset her, I’m going

  to come up there and whack you with my broomstick.”

  “Me? Upset her? How do you think it feels, Aunt Peavy,

  to discover out of nowhere that you have a seven-year-old

  son?”

  Aunt Peavy sniffed and glared at him over the top of her

  thick glasses. “If you’d have come home once in the past

  seven years, maybe she would have told you.”

  Kael stuffed his hands in his pockets. “She should have

  told me anyway.”

  “After the way you hurt her? I’m surprised she’ll even

  speak to you at all.”

  The elderly lady’s words chastised him and dissipated

  some of Kael’s anger. He drew in a deep breath. How had

  his life gotten so complicated? Things used to be so simple.

  Riding a bull. Staying on for eight seconds. No sweat.

  Except, even before his accident, Kael had grown bored
<
br />   with the whole process. He’d already conquered the top of

  the bull riding world. What else was left?

  Making a comeback from a crippling injury? Besides, if

  he gave up rodeoing, what would he do with himself?

  Be a father.

  Kael cringed. He was facing some very hard choices.

  “If you’ll excuse me, Aunt Peavy, Daisy and I have a

  lot of things to discuss.”

  “Just you mind your tongue with her,” Aunt Peavy re-

  minded him. “I’m an old lady, and she and Travis are all

  I have left.”

  Nodding, Kael edged past her and headed for the stairs.

  Daisy and Rose had once shared the first bedroom on

  the left. Kael laid his hand on the doorknob.

  Suddenly it was very hard to breathe. He was about to

  cross the threshold into the adult world of responsibility.

  The world he’d resisted for so long. With the proposition

  he was about to offer Daisy Hightower, Kael’s world as he

  knew it would cease to exist.

  He turned the knob and pushed open the door.

  The room had changed since the last time Kael had vis-

  ited it. In those days there had been identical twin beds and

  a stereo system stocked with the latest music. There had

  once been a television set and beanbag chairs, brightly col-

  ored knickknacks and pots of makeup strewn across the old

  dressing table.

  Today the room reflected Daisy’s solo personality. Gone

  were the flamboyant posters of movie stars and rock leg-

  ends. The electronic equipment had disappeared as well as

  the old furnishings.

  Everything was simple, direct and functional. There were

  no frills, no ruffles, no extravagance of any kind. The walls

  were painted white and adorned only by pictures of Travis,

  Rose, Aunt Peavy and Daisy’s parents. The small bookcase

  housed numerous tomes on beekeeping and farm repair but

  there were no novels or biographies, no entertaining reading

  of any kind.

  But it was Daisy that seized his attention.

  She sat cross-legged in the middle of her full-size bed,

  her face buried in her hands. Her hair was pulled in a po-

  nytail, and she wore a red T-shirt and a pair of cutoff blue

  jeans that showed off her long, slender legs. An empty box

  of tissues rested beside her.

  “Daisy.” He spoke her name, and the anger that had

  carried him this far quietly evaporated as he realized she’d

  been crying. He’d never known her to cry, not even when

  her parents had been killed. Taken aback, he simply stood

  there.

  Daisy suppressed a sniffle and raised her head. Her eyes

  were moist, her nose reddened, but her shoulders were set

  firm and brave.

  “Kael,” she responded.

  “The lab called me.” He hesitated in the doorway, his

  hand still worrying the knob.

  “I know.”

  Their eyes fastened on each other.

  Daisy’s heart stuttered against her breastbone. The mo-

  ment of truth had arrived. Her worst suspicions had been

  confirmed. The man she had loved for so long was indeed

  the father of her twin sister’s child. That awful night seven

  years ago had come back to haunt them both with a savage

  vengeance.

  “May I come in?” he asked, his question surprising her.

  She’d heard him downstairs talking to Aunt Peavy, his

  voice raised in anger. She knew Kael was not a man to be

  thwarted, and she had expected him to come charging into

  her room like a Brahma on a rampage, demanding joint

  custody of her son. Instead he looked rather like a lost little

  boy himself.

  Before she could steel herself against the onslaught, a

  wash of emotions swamped Daisy. Swallowing hard, she

  tried to will herself free of feelings. Denying her heartache

  was the only way she’d survived all these years. Now was

  not the time to let down her guard and give in to the quick-

  sand of fear and sadness.

  “Come in,” she said, and he shut the door behind him.

  The small room shrunk in his presence. Daisy nervously

  fingered a shredded tissue.

  “We’ve got to talk.”

  She waved a hand at the rocking chair, resigned to the

  inevitable.

  Kael ignored the chair and stepped closer to the bed. He

  limped slightly, and the evidence of his wound yanked at

  something deep inside Daisy.

  For the longest time she’d even refused to date him be-

  cause he was a bull rider. She’d seen no percentage in

  becoming involved with a man who indulged in high-stakes

  activities. Such a man would be daring, overly confident,

  and that combination equaled danger. Why get mixed up

  with trouble when life already offered so much grief? And

  she’d been right about him, too. But that knowledge did

  nothing to ease her suffering.

  Even though common sense had warned her off, she’d

  been attracted to him. Just like now. There was something

  irresistible about Kael Carmody. From that wide, cocky

  grin to his nonchalant stride, he made a girl yearn to be

  kissed.

  The way he was looking at her didn’t help matters, ei-

  ther. He pushed aside her pillows and lowered himself

  down on the bed beside her. The palatable aroma of this

  male—zest and sunshine, soap and leather—descended

  upon her being, rousing not only long-dormant memories

  but her clandestine sexual desires as well.

  Daisy hiccuped back her salty tears and struggled des-

  perately to denounce her rapidly fluttering pulse. No man

  had ever awakened her senses the way Kael Carmody did,

  and she hated the control he wielded over her. For seven

  years she’d fought that power and stupidly believed she’d

  gotten over him. She was wrong.

  “I’m sorry,” he said simply. “For all the pain I caused

  you and Rose and Travis.”

  Daisy touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip and

  sat in stunned silence. She had anticipated his anger, instead

  he was asking her forgiveness.

  “I don’t know where to begin,” Kael said, “making up

  for the damage I’ve caused.”

  “We’ve got to do what’s best for Travis,” Daisy said.

  “I agree.” He reached across the bed and took her hand.

  His touch, like the earth’s atmosphere to a meteor, sent

  her splintering into a thousand hot, brittle pieces. Daisy

  sucked in her breath through gritted teeth and quickly

  jerked back.

  But it was too late. She’d been stamped by his mark,

  labeled with the unmistakable imprint of Kael Carmody’s

  woman.

  “That’s why you’re going to marry me,” he continued.

  “Excuse me?” Daisy arched her back and turned to stare

  him full in the face. Had she heard him correctly? Was he

  telling her she was going to marry him?

  Unflinchingly he met her stare. His hazel eyes, so much

  like Travis’s, reflected back at her clear and unwavering.

  Yes, this was the arrogant, self-satisfied son of a gun she
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  remembered. From the very first time he’d asked her out,

  Kael Carmody had tried to bend her will to his. Well, she

  was having none of it. Daisy Anne Hightower had plenty

  of grit on her own! She didn’t need a man, especially some-

  one as high-handed as Kael Carmody telling her what to

  do. She’d survived her parents’ tragic deaths and kept the

  honey farm on track. She’d overcome the trauma of Kael’s

  betrayal and Travis’s unexpected arrival. She’d kept on

  trucking down life’s perilous highway despite Rose’s sui-

  cide and Aunt Peavy’s cancer scare last year.

  “It’s the best thing,” he said.

  “According to you!”

  “You need me.”

  “Like hell I do.”

  “You’re about to lose your honey farm.”

  “Only because you killed my bees!”

  “Let me do right by you. Let me be a father to my son.

  Let me help you rebuild the honey farm.”

  “Why should I provide the means for your redemption?

  You were never here when I really needed you.”

  Kael thumped his fist against the headboard. “I’m here

  now! Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  “No. You’re only here because you’ve lost everything

  else.” She indicated his injured leg with a wave of her

  hand.

  Kael blew out his breath and rubbed both palms along

  the top of his thighs. “I should have known you’d be stub-

  born about this.”

  “And I should have known you’d try to take over my

  life after running out on me seven years ago.”

  “I didn’t run out on you,” he insisted, his nostrils flar-

  ing.

  Daisy pushed herself off the bed and onto her feet. Set-

  ting her hands on her hips she narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Who are you trying to kid? Me or yourself?”

  “I had every intention of coming back home for you

  after my rodeo career was over,” he said.

  “Was that before or after you took my sister to bed?”

  “Dammit, Daisy.” Kael got to his feet and lowered his

  face to hers. “I swear I thought Rose was you.”

  “That’s so convenient, now that Rose isn’t here to de-

  fend herself.”

  “Your sister seduced me on purpose. Don’t you get it?

  How else did Rose know I was at Mickey’s Bar?”

  “Where else would you be celebrating another victory?”

  Daisy needed to blame Kael. To hold him completely ac-