Читать книгу Atonement - B.J. Daniels, B.J. Daniels - Страница 9

CHAPTER TWO

DILLON RAISED HIS hands and took a step back. “Take it easy. Like I said, if you’ll come in the house, I can take care of this. But first, put down the gun. There’s no call for any gunplay.”

This was not her first rodeo, Tessa Winters thought as she took in the cowboy. She’d come all this way on a hunch that Ethan might have gone to Montana, but she’d still been shocked when she’d actually tracked down the lying bastard.

“You won’t be charming your way out of this.”

He shook his head. “Not my intention. If you put away the gun, I’m sure we can resolve this.”

She eyed him warily, torn between her anger and his apparent calm. There was a time when she would have weakened. That time had long since passed.

Her gaze narrowed as she realized that he must have come straight here after he’d run out on her. His big hands were callused and his skin was tanned, as if the man had actually been doing some honest physical labor.

Looking at him now, she couldn’t help but think about the first time she’d seen him. With his tousled sandy-blond hair and big blue eyes, he’d been the most handsome cowboy she’d ever run across. Like now, he’d been wearing a Western shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and slim hips, and jeans that— Tessa shook off those dangerous thoughts and reminded herself what was at stake here. He might look good—the physical Montana lifestyle had made him even more attractive—but under the facade was a liar, a coward and a thief.

“Please.” He motioned to the gun. “You’re making me nervous.”

“You should be nervous.” But she lowered the gun.

“Okay,” he said, slowly putting down his hands. “Let me see to my horse and then we’ll go up to the house and take care of this.” He climbed the corral fence and approached the wary filly slowly.

Tessa could hear him talking softly to the horse as he removed the halter rope, then stroked the filly’s neck. Her ire rose as she saw how gentle and loving he was to the horse. It hurt even more to think of how easily he had abandoned her and their child.

When he finished with the horse, he climbed back over the fence and motioned toward the house. She followed. Distrustful as to what he was up to, she kept her fingers around the grip of the .45 in her bag. He thought he knew her, but he had no idea who he was dealing with. Pregnancy had changed her in more ways than one.

Tessa felt like a loose cannon, and knew a large part of it was the hormones her doctor had warned her about. Given the way she was feeling, it surprised her that more pregnant women didn’t kill the men in their lives.

Truthfully, she was so angry with Ethan that she didn’t know what she would do. She’d spent six months telling herself to let it go. Forget about him and the way he’d conned her. Finally, she’d given up kidding herself. She had to look him in the eye one more time before she could let it go. Probably bringing the gun hadn’t been her best choice, though. But she wanted him to know that she was dead serious.

The cowboy mounted the steps of the house and pushed open the door, holding it for her. Now he was going to act like a gentleman? She gave him a withering look as she entered. Behind her, she heard him step in and close the door.

“How about we discuss this over a cup of coffee?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer as he moved past her.

She sighed, wondering how long he thought he could stall before she lost her temper. Since becoming pregnant, she’d found herself on a roller-coaster ride shifting between tears and anger, which had left her exhausted. But she was nonetheless determined. It was bad enough Ethan had seduced her with his lies, knocked her up and then taken off on her. Stealing her money, though? That had been the last straw.

Tessa looked around the old farmhouse, surprised to see how neat and clean it was, as she told herself that once she’d settled things with Ethan, she would get back to being calm, confident and in control of her normal self again. At least she hoped so.

“Who cleans your house?” she asked suspiciously as she stepped toward the kitchen doorway.

“I do,” he said over his shoulder.

She watched him set about making a fresh pot of coffee. When had he learned to make coffee? Or maybe he’d known all along and, like everything else, had played her. Just when she thought he couldn’t make her any angrier.

Looking away to keep from pulling the pistol and shooting him, she was shocked that the kitchen was as clean and uncluttered as the rest of the house. This was not the Ethan Lawson she knew.

Until that moment she hadn’t considered that the reason he’d left her and the baby she was carrying was because he had another family back in Montana. The thought felt like one of his horses standing on her chest. She fought to take her next breath—and worse, not cry.

Was it possible the reason he was always broke was because he’d been sending the money he made home to a family? She hadn’t thought he could hurt her any more than he had, but she’d been wrong.

“Who else lives here?” she asked, her voice breaking.

He turned to look at her. “Just me and a couple cattle dogs. Why don’t you have a seat? Have you had breakfast? I could make—”

“I’m fine.” She didn’t even want coffee. And since when had Ethan learned to cook? She just wanted her money and she’d be on her way. Well, not quite. There was that other small matter, she thought, her hand going to the shoulder bag again.

He motioned her into a seat at the table and placed a mug of coffee in front of her. “I made decaf because of the...” He waved his hand toward her pregnant belly.

“Baby. It’s a baby, Ethan, and stalling isn’t going to do you any good. Just give me my money—”

“Hang on a second.” He left the room and she half expected to hear the sound of his pickup engine revving up outside as he pulled another disappearing act.

To her surprise, he returned a few minutes later with several photos and what appeared to be two newspaper clippings.

She watched him drop them on the table next to his coffee before he pulled out a chair across from her, turned it around and straddled it.

“Let’s see if we can clear this up,” he said, and shoved the photos and the folded newspaper clippings across the table to her.

She didn’t even give the items a glance, wondering what he was up to. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to work. Had she really thought that by coming here she could settle this? With a curse, she started to get up from the table, her hand going to the gun in her bag.

“Please. I think this will help.” He said the words almost as gently as he had spoken to the filly. Reaching over, he pushed the newspaper clippings aside to expose the top photo.

She gave him an impatient look. Then, settling back down with a sigh, she glanced at the snapshot lying on the table. Shock rippled through her. Her gaze shot up to him. He looked as if he was waiting patiently. She dropped her gaze to the photo again. Her fingers trembled as she picked it up to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

The boys were about ten in the snapshot. Both were grinning at the camera, their cowboy hats pushed back. They wore Western shirts, jeans and boots, and stood next to what appeared to be an old barn.

Her gaze moved to the second photo, an older version of them. She lifted it from the table, still shocked to see the two identical faces. They appeared to be in their teens in this shot. They were dressed much the same as they had been in the other photograph, but in this one, neither was smiling at the camera.

“Identical twins,” he said as if she hadn’t already figured that out.

She tossed the photos back on the table and glared at him. Did he really think she was going to fall for this? The photos appeared to be authentic. But she sure as the devil didn’t have him mixed up with some other cowboy—even an identical brother.

“Fine, let’s pretend you aren’t Ethan. Let’s pretend you’re his twin. But being identical and all, you know where he is, right?”

“I do.” His gaze went again to her stomach. He looked worried, as if he feared she was going to faint again. “Maybe you’d better look at the newspaper clippings.”

A feeling of dread washed over her as she reluctantly picked up the first clipping and unfolded it.

Her pulse roared in her ears. “What is this?” she demanded, even though it was clearly Ethan’s obituary.

He pushed the other clipping closer to her and waited.

Tessa swallowed, telling herself this was some kind of trick. She picked up the second clipping and unfolded it. The first thing that caught her eye was the photograph that ran with the article. It was a shot of what was left of a car that had crashed and burned in some ravine in what looked like the desert.

“Take a look at the date on the newspaper clipping,” he said.

Her heart plummeted as she saw the date—a year ago tomorrow. How was that possible? She was eight months pregnant! For a moment, she didn’t know what to make of it.

Then she looked at the cowboy sitting across from her. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“My brother’s death isn’t a joke. At least not to me.”

Tessa shook her head as she glanced again at the photos of the twin boys, then at the young men. She couldn’t tell the brothers apart. Nor could she be sure which of them was Ethan.

She raised her gaze and narrowed her eyes at him. “If your brother is really dead, then unless you’re a triplet...” Her hand went to her belly.

“Are we back to that?” he asked, sounding sad.

Tessa stood abruptly. “If it wasn’t Ethan who I met last year, then it was you masquerading as him. That means you’re the one responsible for this,” she said, her hands covering her stomach, “and for stealing my money.”

He shook his head. “My name is Dillon. Dillon Lawson. And you and I have never met before I looked up a while ago and saw you climbing my corral fence.” His eyes lowered to where the baby was growing inside her, and she saw his gaze soften. “But if I thought for a moment that you really were carrying my brother’s child...”

Tessa felt such a wave of sadness. She really had believed that when he saw her, saw how pregnant she was, he would do the right thing. “It’s my own fault. I knew the kind of man you were the moment I met you. A charming saddle bum who was as dependable as the weather. You said you were trying to change. I should have known better. As it turns out, you’re more despicable than even I could have imagined.”

Her eyes burned, but she angrily fought back the tears as she looked into his face. If his brother was dead, then this was the man she’d fallen desperately in love with, the man who had promised her the moon and stars, the man who’d lied to her from the word go. Ethan wasn’t even his real name. He’d used his dead brother’s first name, probably thinking that she’d never track him down, since he’d lied about his last name.

She hugged her stomach protectively. “Fine,” she said, hating the emotion she heard in her voice. “You want to pretend this isn’t your baby and that you don’t know me? Just sign this and we’re done.” She pulled the form from her shoulder bag and shoved it across the table at him.

He picked it up and took a moment to look at the form that would give him no rights to their child. When he’d finished, he looked up at her again. “I can’t sign this. I thought I made myself clear. I’m not the father of your baby. Believe me, I would remember if we’d ever...” His gaze locked with hers for a moment. He actually flushed. “If we had ever...met. And with Ethan dead a year ago tomorrow...” He raised a hand to keep her from interrupting him. “I should also warn you that I am undersheriff of Sweetgrass County, so if this whole charade is about extorting money from me or from my brother’s insurance policy...” He pushed the form back across the table toward her. “I also would suggest you reconsider whatever it is you’re planning to do with that .45 you’re reaching for in your bag.”

“Undersheriff?”

He nodded. “If you like, I would be happy to show you my star.”

She shook her head, hating what a fool she’d been, was still. She hadn’t expected much when she’d come all this way. Knowing Ethan, she’d realized there was little chance of getting back the money he’d stolen from her. But she’d expected him to be at least man enough to sign the form.

When he’d left without a word, he’d made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with his child. That hurt more than his leaving her. He knew how she felt about family, since she’d never had one.

Obviously, none of that mattered. He’d never planned to make this right, knowing he would never have to. It was her word against the county lawman’s.

Snatching up the paper, she shoved it back into her shoulder bag and fought not to cry. “I thought I saw something...good in you.” She met his gaze, losing herself for a minute in all that pale blue. Tears burned her eyes. She shook her head. Nope, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt her. “I don’t ever want to see you again. If you ever come near my baby—” Her hand dropped into her shoulder bag.

“I would advise you not to threaten an officer of the law again by pulling that gun.”

“Just so we understand each other. You can take my money and hurt me, but never my baby. Never. Undersheriff or not.” She gave him one last look, turned and walked out. He didn’t try to stop her.