Having the Cowboy's Baby

by Judy Duarte

  “I haven’t heard you sing,” Felicia said, “but rumor has it you’re good. And that you might be trying to keep it a secret that you’re Raelynn Fallon’s daughter.”

  Rumor had it? And how had this woman known about Carly’s connection to Raelynn? It’s not like Carly threw her mother’s name around.

  But Ian knew. And right now, Carly would like to throttle the quiet cowboy who’d failed to tell her he had music industry contacts of his own.

  “I can see by the look in your eye that it’s true,” Felicia said. “How is your mama, now that she’s retired and jet-setting with the senator?”

  Carly knew she’d have to wipe the dumbfounded look off her face or she’d feel even more foolish than she did already. “What do you want with... Ian?”

  “Well, apparently, he’s already involved with...someone else, so I’ll settle for just a musical reunion.”

  The story kept getting worse. Ian not only used to sing with Felicia, but he’d slept with her, too?

  A flood of betrayal threatened to knock Carly off her feet, but she stood as tall as her five-foot-two frame would allow. “I guess you’ll just have to talk to Ian—or rather, Mac—about that.”

  He’d had a hundred chances to level with her, but he’d never said a word. Wasn’t that the same as lying?

  “Actually,” Felicia said, “I’ve already talked to him. He rode off a few minutes ago.”

  Apparently Felicia hadn’t just arrived. She’d been about to leave. Carly wanted to tell her to climb back in that limo and hit the road because right now she wanted to be alone so she could have a good cry. Or maybe so she could kick something—or someone.

  “Well, I’d better go,” Felicia said. “It was nice meeting you.”

  Was it? Carly wasn’t so sure, but she feigned a smile. “Same here.”

  “I’ll leave you with one bit of advice, though,” Felicia said.

  Carly stiffened, and her stomach knotted. “What’s that?”

  “Be careful, hon. It’s all fun and games with Mac until he gets you pregnant. Then he’ll expect you to give it all up and settle down.”

  Felicia’s parting shot struck Carly like a wallop to the chest. Sure, she’d started nesting and had considered settling down, at least a bit. But she’d thought that had been her idea.

  Had Ian gotten her pregnant on purpose? They’d used protection, but had he known those condoms might fail? Had he planned to have her move in with him on the Leaning R all along?

  Worse yet, maybe he expected her to use her share from the ranch proceeds to help him buy cattle and hire more hands.

  Ian had often accused Carly of “working” him, but had it been the other way around all along?

  As Felicia turned and headed back to the limousine, emotion clogged Carly’s throat. She couldn’t utter a goodbye or—what seemed even more fitting—a good riddance.

  * * *

  Ian had no more than reached the section of land that bordered the county road when he spotted Carly driving back to the ranch. If Felicia hadn’t left yet, she’d probably stick around a bit longer now.

  Damn. He didn’t want those two talking without him present. Who knew what tale Felicia might concoct in an effort to get back at him? He’d seen her in action before and knew how she could morph from country sweetheart to jealous vamp in no time at all. He had to get back to the ranch. And fast.

  He rode into the yard, just as the limo driver was opening the passenger door for Felicia to get back inside. But Carly was parked and standing outside her truck. Obviously the two had already had words.

  When Felicia noticed that Ian had returned, she paused in midstep, then turned to face him, grinning as smugly as a fat-cheeked cat with yellow tail feathers poking out from its clenched lips.

  Carly, on the other hand, appeared ready to bolt.

  “I see you two have already met,” he said as he dismounted.

  Carly didn’t utter a response, but she didn’t have to. Her wounded gaze gave her emotions away. And why wouldn’t she be hurt? He should have told her about his past earlier. There was no telling what kind of a spin Felicia had put on things.

  “You’re back,” Felicia said. “That’s nice. I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a business meeting in Houston, then I’m flying back to Nashville.”

  That was good news, assuming she was being honest. But the damage had already been done, and the smirk on her face told him she knew it. Now he’d have to do his best to rectify whatever havoc she’d created. But first he needed to make a point, especially with Carly looking on. “Just for the record, Felicia, you and I were done years ago. And I’m not up for a reunion of any kind.”

  “It’s a shame you feel that way, Mac. But you know me. I’ve never been one to take no for an answer. Who knows what the future might bring.” Felicia motioned to her driver. “Let’s go.” Then she climbed into the back of the limousine.

  Mac led the horse to the corral, opened the gate and let him in. By the time he’d secured the latch, Felicia was well on her way down the drive.

  On the other hand, Carly was still standing in the yard, her arms crossed, waiting for an explanation.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have been more upfront with you.”

  “You think?” Her sarcasm rang in the air. “Holding back information like having a music career and working with Felicia Jamison was just as dishonest as a flat-out lie.”

  He had that coming. And the fact that he valued honesty above all else sent his regret and guilt reeling.

  “I’m not sure what Felicia told you,” he said, “but just so you know, she’s not the sweet little Southern gal she projects on the stage and in the media. She has a mean and vindictive streak she’s good at hiding.”

  Carly placed her hands on her hips. “And just what kind of persona did you project on stage, Mac?”

  He gave a half shrug. “I only wanted to play the guitar.”

  She swept her hand across the yard. “And now you do, except you’re entertaining a puppy and a bunch of cows.”

  “I entertained you a time or two.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” She clucked her tongue and slowly shook her head. “Do you have any idea how badly it hurts to know that you couldn’t trust me enough to level with me?”

  “I can only imagine—and I apologize yet again. But just so you know where I’m coming from, Felicia wasn’t content to let me be myself. She tried to manage every minute of my life, and I got tired of it. I needed a complete break.”

  “You were so tired of it that you couldn’t share the truth with me? We were lovers, Ian. And you’re the father of my baby. Didn’t I deserve to know?”

  “Yes, you did. But the more you pushed me to perform with you, the more I held back. I figured you’d only press me harder.”

  He waited for her to soften, for her to give him some kind of clue that she might forgive him. But she glanced at her bangle wristwatch, then shook her head. “I can’t do this.” She walked to her pickup and opened the door. “I won’t do it.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked. “Where are you going?”

  “To see Dr. Connor.” Then she slid behind the wheel, started the ignition and sped off, blowing gravel and dust behind her.

  Why was she going to the doctor again? Was she sick? Or was she having a pregnancy complication?

  A shudder of apprehension shook him to the bone. All he could think about was the day Felicia had gone to the clinic to end her pregnancy.

  Surely that’s not what Carly had in mind. She wasn’t anything like Felicia. But she was hurt and angry. And he felt compelled to chase after her and make sure she didn’t do something they’d both regret.

  * * *

  Carly was in tears before she pulled onto the county road and heade
d for the clinic. What in the world was she going to do now?

  Ian wasn’t the man he’d led her to believe he was. Besides that, all along he’d had the connections to open doors for her. Not that she would have wanted him to, but why hadn’t he trusted her with the truth about his past?

  Her cell phone rang, and she glanced at the number display on her dashboard. It was Ian, but she wasn’t up to talking to him now. She let his call go to voice mail.

  Moments later, another call came in. Assuming it was Ian again, she was about to shut off the phone completely when she spotted the incoming number and realized it was her brother.

  She sniffled, then answered. “Hi, Jason. How’s it going?”

  “Just fine. But I have some news for you. Big news.”

  Not as big—or as messy—as hers was going to be. “What’s up?”

  “You know Camilla’s twins?”

  “What about them?”

  “Are you sitting down?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on. Don’t keep me hanging.”

  “I told you that their paperwork was in order,” he began. “But I hadn’t looked it over until Juliana and I were getting ready to head to the airport with them.”

  “Was something wrong with their passports?”

  “That depends on how you look at it.”

  “Okay, cut to the chase, Jason. I have an appointment in about ten minutes, and I don’t have time for guessing games.”

  “Do you remember telling me that you always wished you’d had a sister?” He chuckled softly. “Well, you have one. And she’s seven years old. You have a little brother, too.”

  Carly was so stunned she could barely find her voice. He had to be pulling her leg. Or else there was some mistake. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope. It’s true.”

  Jason had never lied to her before, but she still had trouble believing this. “Did Dad adopt them?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s listed as their father on the birth certificates.”

  “Maybe they were forged or something. Dad could have paid to have someone create phony paperwork so he could bring them across the border more easily.”

  “That’s not likely. The kids were born in San Diego, and those certificates aren’t copies. They’re legit. It’s all there in black and white. Their parents are Camilla Cruz de Montoya and Charles Rayburn.”

  A horn tooted behind Carly, and when she glanced in the rearview mirror, she spotted a Ford sedan on her tail. The driver honked again, then sped up and passed her. When she looked at her speedometer, she realized she’d slowed almost to a stop.

  She accelerated, then said, “So you’re saying that Dad had another family in Mexico.”

  “Apparently so. That has to be why he was so determined to get those kids back to the States.”

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say. I’m speechless.”

  “So are we. But we’ll be heading back to Houston with them later today. I’ll have some work to take care of at the office, but we need to schedule another family meeting. In the meantime, Juliana and I will keep them with us in my condo in Houston.”

  “Have you told Braden yet?” she asked.

  “No, I called you first, but he’s next on the list.”

  Carly glanced in the rearview mirror and noted that there weren’t any more impatient drivers behind her. Then she blew out a sigh. “I’m still having a hard time believing this.”

  “While you try to figure it out, you might want to take a speed course in conversational Spanish.”

  Great. She’d finally gotten the little sister she’d always wanted, only nearly twenty years too late. And to make matters worse, they wouldn’t be able to communicate.

  “But now we have another problem,” Jason said. “Since we know who the kids are, finding someone to adopt them isn’t going to be the answer. Not when they’re our blood kin.”

  He meant they’d have to figure out which sibling was going to step up and raise them. But that wasn’t going to be easy. It had taken them months to agree to sell the Leaning R, mostly because they’d never been close—thanks to their father’s two marriages and various affairs that left the half siblings feeling more like strangers than kin.

  And while she had to admit that things had gotten better between her, Braden and Jason after their father died, and that the family dynamics had suddenly changed—big-time—they were still getting to know and respect each other.

  And speaking of the Rayburns multiplying like bunnies... “Hey, listen. I have a doctor’s appointment. I have to hang up or I’ll be late. Call me when you get to Houston. I have some news for you, too.”

  “You can’t tell me now?”

  She’d rather have some time to let her thoughts settle after that blowup with Ian. “No. I’ll talk to you later this evening or tomorrow morning.”

  Then she ended the call, just as she pulled into the clinic’s parking lot. Maybe she’d better sit in the car and listen to some calming music. If the nurse took her blood pressure right now, it would probably be sky-high.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ian had just brushed down the gelding—the fastest cool down he could allow the horse. Then he went to the cabin and grabbed the keys to his truck, hoping he wouldn’t be too late to catch up with Carly.

  He’d no more than opened the door of his vehicle when Todd rode in with the boys. He was leading Jesse Ramirez’s mare, while the seventeen-year-old sat in the saddle and held on to his left hand.

  “What happened?” Ian asked.

  “Jess had a run-in with a hammer and a stubborn nail,” Todd said. “I think he might have busted his hand.”

  Jesse appeared more disappointed and angry at himself than hurt. “It was my fault. I can’t believe I was so stupid. I sure hope it isn’t broken.”

  “These things happen,” Ian said.

  “I know,” Jesse said. “I just wish it hadn’t happened to me. Maybe, if I put some ice on it, the swelling will go down and I’ll be good as new tomorrow.”

  Jason Rayburn had hired the kids, all football players for Brighton Valley High School, and Ian hadn’t liked the idea. But they all had busted their butts to do a good job, saying that ranching during the summer gave them a harder workout than the gym.

  They’d all bulked up in the past month or so, which had been their plan, along with earning some spending money.

  “I didn’t mean to let you down,” Jesse said. “I know how much work you have to do around here.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I have to cut out now anyway.” In truth, Ian was more concerned about the kid than a day’s work. He didn’t want to see Jesse miss the opening football game. This was his senior year, and he was hoping to earn a college scholarship.

  “Let’s call it a day,” Ian told Todd. “Can you take Jesse to the ER to have an X-ray?”

  Todd lifted his hat, then readjusted it on his head. “Sure thing, boss.”

  Ian was grateful for that. Normally, he’d be the one taking an injured employee for medical treatment. But having Todd do it would allow him to follow Carly to the clinic and make peace with her. “I’ve got to run into town,” he told Todd. “Call me and let me know what the doctor has to say about Jesse’s hand. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Then he climbed into his truck and took off. All the while, he planned what he’d say to Carly.

  He’d swear that he would never lie to her again—or withhold information. But there was one thing he’d neglected to confess.

  He loved her with all his heart. And he was willing to lay his dreams on the line if that’s what it took to create the family he’d always wanted.

  He just hoped he wasn’t too late—in more ways than one. God willing, he’d catch up with her before she made any foolish decisio
ns.

  And before she decided he wasn’t the kind of man she could trust.

  As he drove, he whipped out his cell phone. He dialed 411 and requested the number to Dr. Connor’s office. When the receptionist answered, he asked for the address and directions. Apparently, the doctor’s practice was located near the Brighton Valley Medical Center.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot and spotted Carly’s pickup.

  He entered the redbrick building that housed various medical offices and made his way to Dr. Connor’s waiting room, which was nearly full. He noticed several mothers with children as well as a middle-aged man reading Sports Illustrated. But Carly was nowhere in sight.

  “Excuse me,” he said to the receptionist, prepared to stretch the truth. “I’m late. I’m supposed to meet Carly Rayburn here. I’m the father of her baby.”

  The matronly blonde smiled. “She was just called back to see the doctor. But I can take you to her.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.” Ian had no idea how Carly would react when he crashed her visit with the doctor, but he wouldn’t think about that now. He had to see her, to convince her to talk to him, and it couldn’t wait a minute longer.

  “She’s right back here,” the receptionist said as she led Ian to exam room three. She knocked lightly on the door. “Dr. Connor?”

  “Yes?” another female voice said.

  “The baby’s father is here.”

  “Send him in. He’s just in time.”

  Just in time for what? Ian was hesitant to enter the room, but Carly hadn’t uttered an objection.

  As he stepped inside, he spotted Carly stretched out on the exam table, her belly exposed. Something slick and wet was smeared on her skin, and the doctor was running some thingamajig over the swell of her belly. Apparently she was so transfixed by the image on a small screen that he practically slipped into the room unnoticed.

  “That’s the heartbeat,” the doctor said. “It’s strong and steady. Can you hear it?”

  All Ian could hear was a whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sound, but he zeroed in on the black-and-white screen Carly was studying intently.