Читать книгу The Doctor's Texas Baby - Deb Kastner - Страница 12
ОглавлениеWhat had she been thinking?
There was no question in Carolina Mason’s mind that returning to her hometown, Haven, Texas, was a bad idea.
Too many complications. Too many memories. Most of all, too much heartbreak.
And yet here she was. What few household goods she owned were now unpacked in her late great-uncle’s cabin, where she’d made up a room for herself and one for her two-year-old son, Matty.
If she had any sense in this head of hers, she’d ignore all the rational reasons she’d come back to Haven in the first place, pack up her sedan again and go back from whence she’d come.
If there was a back.
Which there wasn’t.
The truth was, she had ultimately returned to Haven because, to her own shame and mortification, she had nowhere else to go.
She was facing a fairly insurmountable problem, as she saw it. No health, no home, no job and not much of an opportunity to get one. If it was just her life in the balance, she might have resisted the urge to return.
But this wasn’t about her. It was about Matty. He needed the stability the small town offered, which she could not otherwise give him.
Uncle Mort’s cabin was available to her rent-free. Where else would she find a deal like that? And though returning home wasn’t exactly a typical fresh start, no other choices had presented themselves. She had to take what she could get.
Besides, she had important, possibly critical legal news to deliver to Bea Brewster, the director of the local boys ranch, information Carolina knew they were anxiously waiting on. The kind of news that was better delivered in person.
Since that was her first order of business after unloading all of her personal belongings, she headed to the boys ranch as soon as the moving truck had left her uncle’s premises.
She paused at the door to the front office of the boys ranch and ran a palm down the denim of her jeans, considering her options for about the hundredth time that week. In one hand she clutched her purse, which contained the legal document the boys ranch director was awaiting. Matty clung tightly to her opposite arm, his hand squeezing hers.
He was usually an outgoing and curious toddler, but at the moment he was hiding behind Carolina and peeking out at his surroundings from around her leg.
Her heart clenched. She suspected her son’s sudden shyness was due to his picking up on her nerves and anxiety. The poor child had had enough change, with his entire life being uprooted, without having the challenge of immediately adapting to his new surroundings.
“It’s okay, little man. You and Mama are going to be just fine. You’ll see.” She affectionately and—she hoped—encouragingly ruffled his dark hair.
“Carolina!” Receptionist Katie Ellis exited through the front door of the office, a pink canvas lunch tote hanging from her elbow. “What a nice surprise!”
Any thoughts Carolina might have had of skipping town without being recognized dissipated into thin air as she nodded at her friend. Katie was a few years younger than Carolina but they had gotten to know each other while volunteering at community events and had become friends.
“It’s good to see you,” Carolina said, hoping the strain she was feeling didn’t echo in her voice. “Still working for the boys ranch, I see. It’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” Katie agreed, racing forward to envelop Carolina in an enthusiastic hug. “How many years has it been, do you think?”
“Three.” Carolina sighed inwardly, the ache in her chest growing. She knew exactly how long it had been since she’d last been in Haven. Not just to the year, but to the month. Even to the day.
Katie grasped Carolina’s elbow and turned them both back toward her office.
“I don’t want to interrupt your lunch hour,” Carolina protested. “I can come back later.”
“Nonsense.” She held up her tote. “It’s only a salad, and I’m heartily tired of eating greens every day. But wouldn’t you know I have to perpetually diet just to keep my figure.” She shrugged and grinned. “What’s a single woman to do? Anyway, lunch will wait. I want to hear all about you. What’s been happening in your life since you left Haven?”
Katie dropped into her chair behind the desk and gestured for Carolina to take a seat.
“I can see at least one thing has changed,” Katie said with a giggle, gesturing at Matty.
Carolina tried to pull a wiggling Matty onto her lap, but he protested loudly and tried to squirm away.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized to Katie. “I promise I’ll fill you in, but I need to get Matty settled first.”
She set him down on the floor by her feet and fished around in her oversize purse, triumphantly retrieving two toy cars. “Here you go, buddy. One for each fist. Stay close and play quietly, please.”
Matty was already distracted, his attention on the little police car and fire truck he held in his hands.
Carolina returned her attention to Katie.
Katie leaned back in her seat and smiled. “Obviously you didn’t have any trouble catching a man’s eye, now did you? You look exactly the same as the day you left Haven. Or prettier, even. And you had a baby? Are you and your husband planning to move back to town with your sweet little boy?” Katie stopped hammering Carolina with questions long enough to give her a once-over. “I have to say I am seriously envious of your figure right now. How do you do it?”
Carolina bit back a bitter laugh. The compliment was sincere and well meant, but she was perfectly aware that the person who’d left Haven in such a rush three years ago was not even remotely the same as the woman who’d returned. She was older now, hopefully a little wiser, and infinitely worse for the wear.
Physically, emotionally and spiritually. If she had kept her figure, it was because she was too stressed to eat most of the time.
Life had come full circle for her, and she was back in Haven, where she’d once found her deepest peace, her grandest love and her greatest heartbreak. She’d been pregnant and troubled when she’d left town.
The biggest change in her life was that she’d become a Christian while she’d been away, living in Colorado with a friend. She was still learning what her faith entailed. Trust didn’t come easy to her, and thinking about God as a loving Father was still a concept she wrestled with. Her own father hadn’t exactly been a good role model.
When she’d first escaped to Colorado and had no money to buy the food she’d needed to help her have a healthy pregnancy, folks from a nearby church had reached out to help her. They’d not only shared their food but their faith, and now it was Carolina’s precarious trust in God’s love and mercy that kept her going, knowing He held the future, even when from her perspective it was all jumbled up.
She prayed returning home was the right decision, that she would be able to recover some of the peace she’d once had.
But love?
That was so not happening. A romantic relationship was not even a blip on the radar, and she was fairly certain it never would be. She had her hands full raising Matty.
She tensed. This was the part she had dreaded and worried about the most in coming back to town.
Breathe in, breathe out.
It was no wonder Matty was picking up on her anxiety. It was practically radiating from her.
Presenting Matty to Katie and talking about him would be relatively easy compared to what she imagined it would be like with some of the other folks in town.
It was overwhelming to realize this was the first of many times she’d have to introduce her son—to friends and acquaintances, neighbors in town, and at church. And she’d have to explain that a husband didn’t come along with the package.
She anticipated a few surprised looks, maybe even a little gossip, but hopefully no one would ask about the boy’s father, at least not right away. She wasn’t ready to open up about Matty’s parentage, to disclose her secret.
Honestly, she doubted she’d ever be ready.
“No husband,” she managed to choke out.
Katie’s face turned a pretty shade of pink. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed—”
Carolina sighed. “It’s not a big deal. You had no way of knowing. I’m sure you’ll be the first of many to ask.”
Actually, the question was like a jab in the stomach, but she knew she’d better get used to it.
“No worries there. Everyone is going to adore this handsome little fella,” Katie assured her, clearly backtracking.
Carolina ran her palm across the cowlick in her son’s dark hair, but he paid no attention to her as he busily pushed his cars across the tile floor, making vrooming and screeching noises, punctuated with the occasional fire truck or police vehicle siren.
Matty’s resemblance to his father was striking, should anyone care to notice. Carolina prayed they wouldn’t. If Katie didn’t notice, maybe there was hope that others would miss the connection as well.
“Matty, be a gentleman and say hi to Miss Katie.”
Hearing his name, Matty looked up from his toys.
“I’m Matty,” he proclaimed proudly.
Katie chuckled. “Nice to meet you, Matty.” Her gaze returned to Carolina, and her smile widened. “What a little sweetheart.”
Carolina released the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.
“Would you like to take a tour around our new ranch? It’s quite an improvement over the old one. Thanks to Cyrus Culpepper, we’ve been able to take in twice the number of needy boys.”
“That’s great news. What I saw driving in looks wonderful. Actually, I’ve got some important information about the Culpepper will. That’s why I’m here.” Carolina once again fished through her purse, this time searching for the certified letter she’d received the week previously.
She really did need to buy a smaller handbag that half of her worldly possessions wouldn’t get lost in. After Matty had turned two, she’d graduated from a diaper bag to her current purse, which wasn’t much smaller than the enormous blue elephant bag had been. But with an active toddler, she still found it necessary to carry a lot of stuff. Toy cars, a pull-on diaper or two, wet wipes, fruit snacks...
Finally locating and retrieving the envelope, she placed it on the desk in front of her. “I need to speak to Bea. I believe it’s regarding a legal matter.”
“Of course. She’s out to lunch right now, but I expect her back in a half an hour or so. I’ll text her to let her know you’re here.”
Carolina shifted her gaze to Matty just as, standing on tiptoe, he reached for the stack of papers teetering on the edge of Katie’s desk.
“Matty, no,” Carolina barked, just barely managing to snatch him out of the way before the whole stack of invoices went flying off the desk. As it was, four or five documents fluttered to the ground around her feet.
Shaking her head in dismay, she propped Matty on her hip and turned to Katie. “I’m so sorry. Sometimes I think curiosity should have been Matty’s middle name.”
Heat suffused Carolina’s face. She only hoped Katie would not ask what Matty’s real middle name was. It would be a dead giveaway for sure.
Katie grinned and stood, moving around the desk and stooping to retrieve the errant papers. “Not a problem. No harm done.”
Carolina returned her smile. “Yet. This child can get into mischief faster than you can say Jack Frost. I’m his mother and I can barely keep up with him.”
“Do you like horses, Matty? I think we have just enough time before Miss Bea gets back for us to go visit the stables.” She winked at Carolina. “And get him out for some fresh air? Maybe run off a bit of his energy? If only we could bottle it up and use it for ourselves, huh?” she said. “Imagine how much we could accomplish in a day.”
Carolina laughed and nodded. “I’ll say.”
As Katie led them between outbuildings toward the stable, she regaled Carolina with funny stories about the resident boys and the animals and pointed out various buildings and working areas of the boys ranch.
Carolina was familiar with the general purpose of the ranch, which, under the guidance of the Lone Star Cowboy League, was to care for and mentor troubled boys ages six to seventeen, kids who were having difficulties at home. Most of the time their parents or caregivers, unable to deal with the boys’ emotional issues on their own, placed them at the boys ranch for a time. These were the kids who were walking a fine line, and the ranch had many success stories of kids who had grown up and gone on to be model citizens and useful members of their communities.
Since Carolina wasn’t personally connected to the ranch in any way, she knew very little about the specifics and had never visited. Three years ago when she’d left Haven, it had still been located at the smaller facility, which had only had the capacity to house twelve boys. Now that they’d moved, they’d been able to expand the children’s options and aid them in moving forward with their lives.
As Katie talked, Carolina became increasingly impressed by the number of programs the ranch now offered to help the boys transition into public life, to become honorable, faithful and hardworking members of society. They attended the nearby public school during the week and Haven Community Church on Sundays.
The boys also had the opportunity to acquire a trade. In addition to ranch work, they could learn cooking, carpentry, welding, painting, plumbing—the impressive list went on and on.
Carolina took a deep breath of the country air and reveled in the uniquely rural aroma that assaulted her nostrils—the pungent odors of hay and horses, prairie grass, and freshly dug earth mingled with the scents of the barnyard animals they passed. Oddly, it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. After three years in the city, the ranch smelled like home.
White picket fences surrounded the property. Brown cattle dotted the rolling green hills. Matty was entranced by the squawking chickens pecking for food on the ground inside their coop. Carolina chuckled at the plump piglets rooting around in the mud, grunting to their hearts’ content.
Her ears picked up on the congregational sound of bleating. A herd of hungry sheep, perhaps. Or goats.
She wondered if they might be able to take a quick detour to introduce Matty to the goats. Her son would go crazy over a cute little bleating baby with its nubby horns and curious nature. What were they called again?
Kids?
Carolina chuckled. That sounded about right, given that goats were similarly stubborn and inclined to get themselves into loads of mischief.
“I’m really excited about one of our newest projects,” Katie gushed as they rounded the corner of the barn. “It’s already proving to be one of the most popular programs we’ve ever had here on the ranch.”
Carolina pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and checked the time, thinking that, although she hated to cut the visit short, she should probably suggest returning to the office so she could be waiting there to speak to Bea when the director returned from her lunch.
As much as she was enjoying the tour of the ranch, and especially watching Matty interact with the animals, it was more imperative than ever that she speak to the ranch’s director as soon as possible. She’d had no idea of the length and breadth of the boys ranch activities, and now that she knew more about it, she realized just how important her information was.
It broke her heart that she was the bearer of bad news that could possibly affect the ranch’s future. Hopefully not, but the sooner they got the information, the better. Her great-uncle Morton, whom the lawyer representing the ranch was seeking, had recently died of a heart attack.
A moment’s grief swirled through her and she swallowed hard. She’d been especially close to her great-uncle, and his passing had been hard on her. Gritting her teeth, she stared at her boots as she mentally herded her emotions into the deepest corner of her heart and clamped them down with the strength of her will.
“Katie, I should probably—”
Blinking back tears, she looked up to find a man’s dark eyes on hers. Their eyes met and locked, surprise and shock registering within his deep stare.
She gasped, her entire body stiffening like a slab of concrete.
He swallowed hard enough to make his Adam’s apple bob. Clearly he was every bit as stunned as she was.
Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.
This couldn’t be happening.
Wyatt Harrow.
The man who’d won her heart and then shattered it into a million pieces.
No—that wasn’t fair to him. She couldn’t honestly place the blame at his door for what had happened. Not when she was the one at fault—for everything.
For not knowing better than to trust her own heart. For not having the strength to stay in control of her emotions enough not to surrender to the physical need to find comfort for their mutual grief. For not being brave enough to tell Wyatt the truth about Matty, even if she’d believed—and still believed—that it was in his best interest not to know.
She’d been the one to abruptly end their relationship, not Wyatt. She’d literally walked away from him, and from Haven, even though her heart had been breaking into smaller and smaller pieces with every step she took, for every mile of distance she put between them.
His presence was like a slap on the face.
Wyatt was here. He’d seen her. There was no turning away now. Nowhere to run or hide from the truth.
She felt as if she were drowning. She coaxed herself to breathe through the crashing waves of reality, but the air seemed to freeze in her lungs as she watched him slowly recover from his own shock.
Surrounded by a herd of goats and a motley flock of boys displaying varying degrees of interest in what he was doing, Wyatt was clearly in the middle of some kind of veterinary demonstration. He had a syringe in one hand and a goat trapped between his muscular legs.
He was every bit as handsome and rugged as she remembered, from the tip of his black Stetson to the toes of his tan cowboy boots. Jet-black hair, eyes the color of dark chocolate, powerful biceps, broad shoulders sloping to a cowboy’s trim waist. A well-worn T-shirt that might once have been red, a fleece-lined denim jacket and tattered jeans that spoke of his hard manual labor as a large-animal veterinarian.
The only thing that had changed from the last time she had seen him, from the man she had left three years ago, were the lines of strain on his face and the pure icy coldness of his gaze. Her heart clenched as she remembered how his eyes used to warm when he looked at her, when his whole countenance lit up whenever she was around.
But not now.
He pulled his hat down to shadow his thoughts, but he couldn’t hide the frown that curved his lips into a downward arch.
What was Wyatt doing here?
Not just here at the boys ranch. That much was fairly evident.
But why was he still in Haven?
Carolina quivered from the adrenaline still coursing through her. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she might run into him. She had been so certain he would be long gone from town by now, or else she would never have even considered returning—letter or no letter.
That was the whole point, wasn’t it? Why she’d left in the first place? To give Wyatt his freedom?
Wyatt stood to his full height, and Carolina’s breath snagged in her throat. She’d hoped that if she ever saw him again she would feel nothing, that she would have moved beyond the long nights and emotions born of grief and loneliness.
Instead, nothing had changed, except perhaps that her feelings had grown stronger over time. It was as if every nerve in her body was attuned to his.
The brown-speckled goat Wyatt had been working on bleated and bolted away, but he didn’t appear to notice. His posture was stiff and intimidating as he stared back at her, tight jawed and frowning.
“Carolina.” His usually rich baritone emerged low and gritty.
“Mama?” Matty squeezed her hand.
She’d been so shocked by Wyatt’s sudden appearance that she’d momentarily forgotten Matty was at her side.
Wyatt’s gaze shifted to Matty and then back up to her again, his eyes widening in surprise.
Now the electricity intensified, zapping back and forth like lightning between them. Her pulse ratcheted. Her heart hammered. Her worst fear, realized.
Matty.
Oh, precious Lord, please help me.
Even as she prayed for relief, she knew there was no way out of this. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t intended to reveal this secret. Not to anyone, but most especially not to Wyatt.
Ever.
The whole reason she’d left Haven was to allow Wyatt to pursue the life he’d dreamed of. Ever since she’d known him, he’d spoken about his desire to help the poor and destitute in foreign countries learn how to raise animals. He wanted to provide them with a trade through which they could work themselves out of a poverty-stricken existence.
It was a noble goal, the dream of his heart, and if she had stayed, she would have ruined it for him. His parents had been foreign diplomats who’d died in an explosion, and Wyatt had never quite gotten over the loss, even if it made him more determined than ever to help those less fortunate than him. She’d known him well enough to know there was no way he would ever consider bringing a wife and child with him to a third-world country where they might be in danger.
Carolina had known and understood this, and she’d loved him enough to let him go. That was why she’d left Haven so suddenly when she’d discovered she was pregnant with Matty. Everything she’d been through since then—every struggle, every trial she’d endured, every night spent crying in her pillow, had been for Wyatt’s sake.
Because if he’d known she was pregnant, he would have had no choice but to stay with her in Haven. He wasn’t the kind of man who would walk away from his responsibilities. He would have given up all of his personal hopes and dreams for the sake of his son. She had no doubt whatsoever that he was the guy who would do the right thing by her and by Matty. He would have asked her to marry him.
But she’d been in love with him, and the right thing wasn’t good enough for her—or for Matty. Their lives couldn’t be built on one night’s mistake.
If she’d believed Wyatt was in love with her, that would have been one thing. But before the night Matty was conceived they’d only been casually dating, and the night they’d shared had been born of sorrow, not joy. A marriage and family based only on a man’s sense of decency and not true love? Her heart couldn’t take it.
So she’d left.
And now she was back, only to discover Wyatt had never left at all. Why wasn’t he in Uganda or deep in the Amazon jungle somewhere?
Had her sacrifice been for nothing?
“Mama?” Matty said again, yanking her arm more intently this time. “Mama. Mama.”
She scooped him into her arms and gently patted his back, reassuring herself as much as him. Her fight-or-flight instinct was working overtime, and it was all she could do to stand firm and not flee.
But what good would it do her to turn away now? Wyatt had already caught sight of Matty. He was watching the toddler through narrowed eyes and pressed lips as the boy tangled his fingers into Carolina’s hair.
“You’re a mama?” Wyatt asked, and for one confused moment, no longer than a blink of an eye, Carolina thought...hoped...prayed that he wouldn’t comprehend what that meant. That he wouldn’t realize the truth about those identical chocolate-brown eyes that were literally staring right back at him, among the many features that mirrored his own.
“I—how could you?” he stammered, picking off his hat and threading his fingers through his hair.
Carolina cringed, waiting for him to come loose at the seams. How could he not? She wouldn’t blame him. He had every right to be furious.
She held her breath, waiting for the explosion she knew was coming.
But when he spoke, it was deep, and hushed, and as hard and cold as steel.
“Tell me the truth, Carolina, for once in your life. This boy—is he my son?”
* * *
Wyatt’s breath felt like icicles in his lungs, poking and puncturing his chest with each ragged gasp.
That boy, the animated, dark-haired, dark-eyed child clinging to Carolina’s neck, was his son.
For the very first few seconds after he’d realized Carolina wasn’t alone, that she had her toddler with her, there had been a flash of confusion—of anger, of envy—that she had been able to move on with her life so quickly after abandoning him. It had taken him months to recover enough to go on with his daily life without thinking of her with every heartbeat, and there were still days—and nights—he found difficulty putting the past behind him.
And she already had a husband and a toddler? She must have met the guy right after—
His gaze had dropped to her left hand, but her ring finger was bare. So she wasn’t married, then.
Yet there was a child.
And then, in an instant, it all came together.
The moment he looked into the child’s eyes, Wyatt knew, with the same certainty that he recognized the wild, unsteady rhythm of his heart beating in his chest, that the little boy was his son.
His child.
He didn’t have to count back the months or measure the years. Anyone with eyes could see the resemblance.
The boy could have stepped right out of a photograph of Wyatt at that age, from the stubborn cowlick in his black hair right down to the curve of his dimples when he smiled. Wyatt now covered his dimples with a few days’ growth of beard, but they were there. Just like this boy’s.
“What’s his name?” he ground out, barely able to find his voice.
“Matty,” Carolina answered shakily.
Matty was his son.
His thoughts were coming quick and choppy, echoing over and over in his mind, each time stronger and with increasing clarity.
Matty was his own flesh and blood, created out of his love for Carolina. They’d done everything backward, to be sure, but even before Matty had been conceived, Wyatt had had every intention of asking Carolina to marry him, had been ready to make a lifetime commitment to her.
Obviously Carolina hadn’t felt the same way about him, or else she never would have left him.
Left. Knowing she was keeping him from his son.
Where was the love in that?
The little boy staring back at him with wide, curious brown eyes should have had the benefit of his father’s love and attention from the very day he was born.
Already those emotions were welling in Wyatt’s heart. One second ago he’d been a single man. Now he was a daddy.
The whole scenario was wrong on so many levels. He should have been there when Matty was born. When he took his first steps. Said his first word. Wyatt would have showered Matty with love and attention. He and Matty had both been cheated out of time together.
Years.
For a reason Wyatt couldn’t begin to comprehend, Carolina had willingly chosen to live as a single mother, without so much as asking him for financial support, much less anything emotional.
His gut fisted as another thought occurred to him.
Was there another man in the picture now? The fact that Carolina wasn’t wearing a wedding band didn’t necessarily mean anything. The woman he’d thought he’d known would never live with another man without being married to him, but what did he really know about her?
She had proven him wrong in every way that mattered.
Had Wyatt been replaced before he’d ever even had the opportunity to be a dad to his son? The idea of someone else taking on his role of father to Matty made him sick.
It was too much information to process, too many emotions to contain all at once.
Bewilderment, uncertainty, grief, pain, fury—yet at the same time an affection and warmth unlike any he’d ever known. He had no idea where the tender feelings for Matty came from. They were just there.
He switched his gaze to Carolina. She looked stricken, as well she might.
How dare she keep all knowledge of his son from him for all this time?
And why had she come back now?
He guessed the boy had to be around two years of age. Had Carolina suddenly grown a conscience and decided Wyatt needed to know about the boy? It didn’t seem likely, especially since Carolina appeared completely shocked to have encountered him the way she had. She certainly hadn’t been seeking him out.
There were so many questions he wanted answered, so much confusion rolling through his mind and heart that he couldn’t seem to form the words to voice a single one of them. He wanted to grill and interrogate Carolina on every aspect of Matty’s life, but he didn’t know where to begin.
And really, what did it matter anyway?
The fact was, three years ago Carolina had left him high and dry with no notice and no explanation, and now, years later, she had suddenly returned with their son in her arms.
He couldn’t imagine any conceivable excuse or reasonable explanation that he would actually accept as a legitimate reason why she hadn’t bothered to tell him about his child. There was simply nothing she could say to talk her way out of the conversation they were about to have.
“W-Wyatt?” Seventeen-year-old Johnny Drake touched his shoulder and tentatively broke into his thoughts. The teenager, whom Wyatt was personally mentoring, was reed thin, with floppy, curly brown hair and clothes that always looked like they were a size too large for him. “D-did you want me to c-catch the g-g-goat for you?”
In the shock of finding out he had a son, Wyatt had completely forgotten he was in the middle of teaching a class to a rowdy group of boys who were all gazing at him with wide-eyed curiosity and far more attention than they’d been giving him when he’d been explaining how to inoculate a goat.
“Yeah, W-W-Wyatt,” said Christopher Harrington, a resentful young man who thought he was better than the others because he came from a wealthy home. Christopher hadn’t yet learned the hard truth that the boys were all on equal footing here at the ranch. “What about the g-g-g-g-g-goats?”
Wyatt frowned at Christopher’s exaggerated stutter as he made fun of Johnny. Poor Johnny’s shoulders drooped and his bitter gaze sizzled the ground at his feet.
“Knock it off, Christopher. You boys are done for the day. Go somewhere else and find something useful to do.”
The young men didn’t have to be told twice before they scattered. They weren’t used to receiving a sudden chunk of free time.
Only Johnny hung back and didn’t follow the other boys. His stutter made him the object of ridicule, but Johnny found solace reading books and working with the ranch animals, who accepted him just the way he was.
Wyatt understood that, which was one of the main reasons he had taken Johnny under his wing, mentoring the boy with an eye to getting him into college and eventually, if Johnny excelled in his studies, veterinary school.
As much as the teenagers mercilessly teased Johnny, that was nothing close to what would happen if they got a whiff of what was happening between Wyatt and Carolina now. There was no telling what kind of havoc the boys would wreak with that kind of information.
It was time to be proactive, to deal with this situation with Carolina and Matty before anyone else found out about what had happened between them. They needed to get their stories straight and nip any rumors in the bud.
Or did everyone already know?
Was it possible that he was the only man in Haven who wasn’t aware he had a son?
Fury and humiliation lapped like flames in his chest and he struggled to maintain his composure. He gritted his teeth and crossed his arms, digging his fingernails into his biceps and fighting for control of his temper.
“I know you must be angry with me.” Carolina paused, her eyes uncertain. “Aren’t you?”
He raised his eyebrows.
Angry?
That was the understatement of the century. He was mad enough to want to put his fist through a brick wall, just to try to transfer some of the pain in his chest to his hand. He felt like he was about to explode.
“How long were you planning on keeping this secret from me?” he snapped, jamming his hands into the pockets of his fleece-lined jeans jacket to keep from punching the air in frustration. “I can’t believe you kept my own son from me, Carolina. How could you?”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
The fire in his chest burned even hotter. How could she even consider suggesting that her motives were altruistic? Did she really think that leaving him without sharing the knowledge that she was carrying his baby wouldn’t wound him?
He scoffed. “Of course not. You somehow thought I’d be better off not knowing that I have a son.”
“W-W-Wyatt?”
Wyatt turned. He’d somehow forgotten—again—that Johnny was still at his side.
The boy pushed his hair off his forehead. Wyatt could see how agitated Johnny was, clenching and unclenching his fists in a silent, steady rhythm. The poor kid looked like he was about to jump out of his skin.
It struck Wyatt suddenly that he was the cause. Johnny was ultrasensitive and was picking up on the tension between him and Carolina. Wyatt took a deep breath and let it out slowly. No sense upsetting the young man. There was enough anger and grief in this scenario without involving the boy.
He clapped a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s all good. Carolina and I just have a few...issues to work out between us.”
He pointed to the herd of goats, who were now grazing their way through another field. “Do you think you could finish vaccinating the goats?”
Wyatt nodded toward the clipboard, which contained the list of the names of all the goats. He’d dropped the clipboard in the grass earlier, when he’d had his hands full teaching the group of boys how to give a goat a subcutaneous vaccine.
“I think there are four or five of them we haven’t vaccinated yet. Do you remember how to do it?”
“Y-y-yes, sir,” replied Johnny, looking relieved to have a reason to avoid being around the strained reunion between Wyatt and Carolina.
Wyatt returned his attention to Carolina and Matty, who was now wiggling and squirming in his mother’s arms, pumping his chunky arms and legs in an awkward rhythm. He clearly wanted to get down, but Carolina refused, clutching the child like a lifeline.
Wyatt clenched his fists. Had his heated response affected Matty as it had Johnny?
With every ounce of his self-control, Wyatt pressed his anger—along with all of his other barely containable and ignitable emotions—to the back of his mind and heart and firmly boarded them in.
He had to get past the fact that Carolina had abruptly sprung fatherhood on him. All that mattered was taking care of Matty. His needs would always come first, no matter what.
Wyatt was going to be there for his son, and that started right now.
“Can I—” he fumbled, but his voice was husky. He cleared his throat. “May I hold him?”
“Of course.” Carolina sounded surprised that he would ask—as if she hadn’t expected him to step up to the plate.
What was she thinking? That he would deny the truth that was right in front of his eyes? Or maybe it was the opposite—that she feared he was going to step in and take over.
Now that was a thought.
He held out his arms to Matty, feeling suddenly large and ungainly. Abruptly shy, Matty tucked his head into his mother’s shoulder and curled closer to her.
Wyatt’s heart plummeted and he dropped his hands to his sides, wiping his sweaty palms against the denim of his blue jeans.
Strike one.
“Wyatt, wait.” Carolina held up her hand to him, gesturing for him to come closer. Then to Matty, she said, “Son, this is—” She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening in dismay as it met Wyatt’s. “Um—this is Mr. Wyatt. He’s a very nice man. Don’t you want to say hello to him?”
Mr. Wyatt. Not Father. Not Daddy.
Talk about disheartening. But then, what did he expect from his first encounter with his son? That the years apart didn’t matter? That Matty didn’t know him from a stranger?
He was a stranger to his son.
He stuffed the anger down as quickly as it rose, afraid Matty would be able to sense it.
At least this time, when Wyatt reached for him, Matty stretched out his little arms and wrapped them tightly around Wyatt’s neck.
Wyatt struggled to swallow, and not because Matty was cutting off his air. It just felt so new. So strange.
And yet somehow, so right.
Matty still sported the chunky arms and legs and chubby cheeks of toddlerhood, so Wyatt was surprised by how light the boy was. Wasn’t he getting enough to eat?
“Where are you staying?” he asked as he mentally adjusted to the feel of Matty in his arms. He wasn’t accustomed to holding children of any age. He was much more comfortable around the animals he vetted. He was only just getting used to teaching the kids at the boys ranch, and there wasn’t much physical contact between them, other than the occasional encouraging pat on the back.
And all of the sudden he had a two-year-old son?
“We’re lodging at my great-uncle’s cabin for now,” Carolina answered. An emotion Wyatt couldn’t interpret flashed across her face.
For now.
What did that mean? That she wasn’t planning to stick around?
Surely not. She couldn’t be so coldhearted as to just waltz into town, inform Wyatt that he had a son and then disappear again.
Could she?
He didn’t have the opportunity to clarify, because at that moment Bea Brewster approached, saying she’d managed to round up Gabe Everett, who was the president of the local chapter of the Lone Star Cowboy League, and attorney Harold Haverman, who was representing the Culpepper estate. They were awaiting Carolina’s presence in Bea’s office.
Carolina reached for Matty, and Wyatt reluctantly handed him back to her. Right when he was starting to adjust to the feel of Matty’s chubby little body in his arms, the boy had been taken from him. Wyatt desperately craved more time. Much more.
He started to follow Carolina to Bea’s office but then paused. If Gabe and a lawyer were involved in the meeting, it wasn’t exactly his business to invite himself. Though he didn’t know any of the details, he assumed the gathering had something to do with the terms of Cyrus Culpepper’s will and the town’s ability to retain the new boys ranch facility.
Before Carolina went anywhere, though, Wyatt intended to tell her where he stood in regard to fatherhood—in regard to Matty. He wanted to make sure his feelings on the matter were perfectly clear.
He just needed the opportunity, which would be difficult when Carolina was deep in conversation with Bea.
“You are welcome to join us, Wyatt,” Bea offered, casting a grin at him.
Wyatt agreed right away, partially because he volunteered at the boys ranch and thus had some vested interest in the legal matters that would be presented, but mostly because he was determined to find the opportunity to speak to Carolina once the meeting was adjourned.
As they walked back toward Bea’s office, Wyatt gave Bea an apologetic smile and snagged Carolina’s elbow, urging her aside for a moment. He bent his head to whisper close to her ear so the others wouldn’t hear.
Her eyes met his, large and unblinking. He’d forgotten the way those pretty golden-brown eyes, rimmed with thick, dark lashes, used to do a number on him.
Well, not this time. He ignored the tightening of his throat and the way his gut flipped over.
“We’re not finished here,” he warned.
“No. I didn’t think we were.” Her gaze broke away from his and she sighed deeply.
“Just so I know we’re on the same page.” His voice was low and huskier than usual.
The same page?
They weren’t even in the same bookstore. The three previous years spanned behind them like a dilapidated rope bridge, and an enormous, gaping breach lay before them. From his vantage point, it seemed like an impossible chasm to cross.
But he had to try.
For his son.
For Matty.
* * *
Carolina felt very much like she’d just escaped a firing squad, if only temporarily.
How had she not planned for this contingency? Why had it not occurred to her that, free from the burden she and Matty would have been for him, Wyatt would not have taken the very first plane out of the country?
But she hadn’t, and Wyatt was here in Haven, and she didn’t know what she was going to do about it.
She didn’t even know what her options were.
Maybe she should just take care of this legal matter and leave Haven behind her, this time for good.
Except, she reminded herself, she had nowhere else to go. No family. No friends outside Haven other than her ex-roommate and work acquaintances. Nothing.
She’d been living in Colorado since she’d left Haven, working as a nurse at a senior center and hospice. She was surviving, if not thriving, as a single mother. She’d found the Lord, and God was faithfully seeing her through, one deliberate step at a time.
But then, in a matter of weeks, her life had completely upended and fallen apart. She’d taken a bad turn on a ski slope and trashed her knee, which had required major surgery and months of physical therapy. And then her great-uncle Mort had passed away.
Between her hospital stay and recovery, combined with her doctor permanently banning her from lifting more than fifty pounds, her entire life had quickly fallen apart at the seams. Lifting fifty pounds—sometimes much more when patients slipped and fell—was required for a first responder in a nursing home, and the senior center had simply let her go, which was a nice, polite way of saying she was fired.
And then, to top it all off, her roommate, who had been Matty’s primary caretaker while Carolina was in the hospital, had eloped with her boyfriend, leaving Carolina on her own without the means to cover her month-to-month rent on her apartment and nobody available to watch her son while she looked for work.
It was a catch-22 to put all others to shame.
It had frightened her beyond measure that there was a very real possibility that she and Matty might end up living in a homeless shelter. She might have grown up in the country with a single mother, where there was sometimes little left over, but there had always been a roof over her head and enough food to go around.
Now it was her responsibility to make sure Matty had the same security.
Somehow.
As devastated as she’d been about Uncle Mort’s passing, when she discovered he had willed her his cabin in Haven, it had been an answer to her prayer. Owning his cabin free and clear, she would be able to live rent-free—at least until she got back on her feet and was more financially stable. Then she could make more permanent decisions about their future.
The letter from Haven’s Lone Star Cowboy League arrived soon after, when she was packing up her apartment to make the move, and she felt as if the Lord was validating and confirming her plans. After the frightening time when it had felt like her whole life was going down the drain, life suddenly appeared to be on an uptick. She thought maybe everything might be turning around, falling into place for her and Matty.
And they had been.
Until she’d run smack-dab into Wyatt. Now she was wondering if her life had just taken the biggest downturn of all.
“Carolina,” Bea said, her voice breaking sharply into Carolina’s thoughts. With effort, she turned her attention to Bea. “First, we would all like to express our appreciation for your rapid response to our letter.” Bea took a seat behind her desk and clasped her hands in front of her, her expression unusually grim. “And we appreciate the fact that you’ve taken the time out of your busy schedule to come see us.”
Carolina bit the inside of her lip. If only Bea knew. Her schedule was, unfortunately, wide-open.
“We were concerned when we never heard directly from Morton,” Bea continued politely.
Bea was a tall middle-aged woman with bobbed brown hair and dark eyes set off by horn-rimmed glasses. She definitely looked the part of the capable boys ranch director—which was the position she’d maintained for approximately the last twenty years. Her sensible jeans and well-worn boots attested to her proficiency.
Carolina was acquainted with Gabe, a muscular, dark-haired man with friendly blue eyes. He’d been a couple of years ahead of her in school. She assumed that the imposing silver-haired man who popped his leather briefcase open on the corner of Bea’s desk was Harold Haverman, the lawyer representing the Culpepper estate.
Even though Wyatt hung back, leaning his broad shoulder against the door frame instead of fully entering the office, Carolina felt his presence so deeply that it filled the entire room.
Or maybe it was her own tension burdening her. Sadly, she did not come bearing good news.
Wyatt moved out of the doorway in order for Katie to enter.
“Did you want me to take care of Matty while y’all are talking?” she asked with a friendly smile.
“I would appreciate that,” said Carolina, relieved not to have to worry about her loud, wiggly toddler while she worked out some of her other issues. It was going to be hard enough to get through these next few minutes without having a curious little boy trying to get into everything that wasn’t tied down. “Thank you so much.”
Katie held out her hand to Matty and he took it without a fuss.
“Not a problem,” Katie replied brightly before turning her attention to Matty. “As I recall, we never quite made it to the stable earlier. What do you say, Matty? Do you want to come with me and see some real live horsies?”
Matty squealed in delight and everyone chuckled along with him, even Carolina. The little boy’s laughter was definitely contagious.
But as soon as Katie and Matty left the room, the heaviness Carolina had earlier felt in the air reappeared. Everyone instantly became serious as all attention turned to the legal matter at hand.
Carolina let out a deep, shaky breath. No matter how many times she had rehearsed it in her head, she still couldn’t say the words without trembling.
“I’m sorry I don’t have better news for you. The reason you never heard from my uncle Mort is that—that is—” She cleared her throat and hiccuped a breath, struggling to finish her statement. “Unfortunately, my great-uncle passed away a month ago.”
A widower, Morton had remarried at the age of seventy-five and moved in with his new wife’s family in Amarillo, leaving his cabin in Haven unoccupied for a couple of years.
Compassion filled Bea’s eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, my dear. We didn’t know. My deepest condolences.”
Carolina’s throat grew tight and tears burned the backs of her eyes. She’d known coming into the meeting that this was going to be difficult for her to talk about, with her own grief still so fresh, but with all the added emotions brought on by encountering Wyatt, her sorrow was almost more than she could bear.
“Thank you,” she scraped out, tears making a slow line down her cheeks. “He died in his sleep. His wife said it was peaceful. I—m-miss him,” she stammered.
“Of course you do,” said Bea. “Poor darling.”
The office suddenly felt twenty degrees warmer and all the oxygen seemed to have been sucked out of the room. Her head spun and she clutched her throat, wavering.
Carolina blinked rapidly, trying to regain her equilibrium, but it felt as if she were in a narrow tunnel and darkness was edging out the light.
She gasped for breath and held out her arm, grateful when she felt a stabilizing hand at the small of her back. It was only when he pressed a handkerchief into her hand that she realized it was Wyatt by her side, silently urging her into the only other chair in the room.
She couldn’t speak or even compose a smile, but she nodded her appreciation.
His eyes widened and his worried frown hardened to rigid planes, his dark eyebrows dropping low and his lips pressing into a firm, straight line. His eyes appeared almost as black as his hair.
Her heart took a wild ride, leaping into her throat and then plunging back down again to lodge uncomfortably in her sour stomach.
Three years hadn’t changed Wyatt. Not where it really counted. He was ever the gentleman, even when it went against his own better judgment. He’d taken care of her even when he was beyond furious with her, which he had every right to be. After all that had been said and done, no matter what had happened between them, he hadn’t let her fall.
The attorney cleared his throat. “I don’t want to sound insensitive here, but we need to address the issue of the will and Morton’s part in it. Cyrus specifically indicated that all four original members of the boys ranch had to be present at the seventieth-anniversary party or the land will be forfeited.”
Gabe frowned and tapped his Stetson against his thigh. “This new development certainly throws another wrench in our plans.”
Another wrench? Carolina wondered what other complications they’d already encountered, but she was still too shaken up to be able to formulate any questions.
Bea steepled her fingers under her chin, clearly deep in thought. “So what do we do now, Harold? Can you tell us if Cyrus considered any such contingencies, or should we just call a halt to this whole investigation? We’ve already put so much effort into finding the original men that it would be a real shame if we have to end it so abruptly. Frankly, I’m terrified that we may have jumped the gun in taking on twelve extra boys, no matter how desperate the need may have been. I don’t know what we’re going to do if we have to give up this ranch after all we’ve done to expand the program. It just breaks my heart to even think about it.”
Harold riffled through the files in his briefcase, at length removing one that contained several manila envelopes. He flipped through them and withdrew one near the bottom.
“Ah. Here we are.”
Carolina’s breath caught as she waited, although she didn’t know for what. She felt nauseated. She hadn’t realized in coming here that she wasn’t just delivering the awful news of her great-uncle’s passing, but apparently, she’d just put the final torch to the plans to expand the boys ranch. She’d assumed, when she’d read the letter requesting her great-uncle’s presence in Haven for the anniversary party, that informing Bea and the other leaders of the boys ranch about Uncle Mort’s death would simply put an end to any obligation he might have had in the matter. She’d never dreamed this information would create what now appeared to be an insurmountable difficulty to the whole process.
Harold picked up a letter opener from his briefcase, made a neat slice across the top of the manila envelope and then pulled out a single sheet of paper. He leaned his hip against the side of the desk and shook the paper to open it fully.
“I was instructed to open and read this letter in the case of this particular—er—contingency,” he said, flashing Carolina an apologetic look. “It’s addressed to next of kin. Would you like to read it, Carolina?”
Carolina shook her head. She couldn’t yet find her voice, much less control her emotions. “No, thank you. This letter involves everyone here. Please read it to all of us.”
Harold nodded gravely. “Of course.”
He cleared his throat and began.
I, Cyrus B. Culpepper, being of sound mind and in front of witnesses, add this addendum to my will. It occurs to me that one or the other of the four fellows I’m requiring to be at the seventieth-anniversary party might have gone to meet their maker even before I do. Should you discover that to be the case, then I hereby declare that the next of kin may represent the family legacy at the celebration, assuming the next of kin is willing to attend the party.
Yours,
Cyrus B. Culpepper
Silence shrouded the room as each person ruminated over the new contingency. Then all eyes lifted and turned expectantly to Carolina. Would she stay and represent the Mason family?
“The next of kin would be Morton’s wife, yes?” Bea asked.
Carolina shook her head. “Unfortunately, my aunt Martha died just a few weeks after Morton. Since my parents have also both passed away, I believe I am all that’s left of Uncle Morton’s legacy.”
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or alarmed.
On one hand, she was pleased that she would be able to help keep the boys ranch going and that she hadn’t been delivering a literal death blow.
On the other hand, that meant she had to stay in Haven. It was the beginning of February, which meant she was looking at two months, before the party in March. If things went downhill between her and Wyatt, which well they might, she wouldn’t have the option to pack up and be on the next bus out of town, away from Haven and away from Wyatt, for good.
As tempting as the idea was of cutting out of town without having to deal with Wyatt at all, there was no question about her staying. Not really.
It wasn’t enough that she didn’t have anywhere else to go. She couldn’t leave the boys ranch in the lurch. She simply couldn’t. It meant too much to too many people, especially all the boys it had helped over the years—and would assist in the future, especially if they were able to keep the larger facility.
Seventy years of helping young men find a better way. She couldn’t put her own needs and desires over something as amazing as that.
But more than that, when she stopped to truly examine her feelings, she knew in her heart that she couldn’t leave without allowing Wyatt to get to know his son. Merely thinking about staying was more frightening than anything else she’d ever experienced—even reluctantly coming to the decision to leave town alone and pregnant three years ago.
She would have to own up to her choices. All of them, both good and bad.
She’d realized as soon as she’d seen the brokenhearted look on Wyatt’s face that she’d been wrong to keep Matty’s existence a secret from him. Matty was as much his son as he was hers.
He deserved to know his child. And now he would.
In a way God had made the decision for her, which was probably good, because her record in the decision-making department was deplorable of late.
She had to stay. So she would give Wyatt these two months to get to know Matty, to spend time with him and possibly build a bond as father and son. After that, only the Lord knew what would happen.
She came out of her thoughts to realize the others in Bea’s office were still waiting for her answer. She took a deep, cleansing breath and dived in without knowing just how deep the water was.
“Okay. I’ll stay.”
