Читать книгу Colton's Cowboy Code - Melissa Cutler - Страница 10

Chapter 4

The room went dead quiet. Dad stared at Brett, disappointment dragging at his features. Jack’s mouth flopped open while Tracy rubbed his arm. Eric and Daniel stared out the window, their expressions shuttered.

Brett sipped his coffee, though he couldn’t even taste it, giving them time to get over their shock.

In the gaping silence, a hard, patronizing laugh burst out of Jack. “You really did it this time. How in the world did you get yourself into a mess like that?”

Jack’s laughter, even more than the disappointment in the rest of his family’s eyes, snapped Brett’s patience. He was done with being a whipping boy. “Let me see if I can spell it out for you. When a man and a woman are attracted to each other, sometimes they express that attraction by doing a mommy-and-daddy grown-up dance with all their clothes off—”

Jack sneered at him. “And you wanted me to give you more responsibilities around here. Unbelievable.”

Dad scrubbed a hand over his mouth and chin. “Like I always say, the apple don’t fall far from the tree,” he murmured, his eyes shifting briefly to Daniel.

Just once, Brett wanted his father to tell him that with pride in his voice instead of disappointment. Just once in his damn life. Brett had grown up idolizing his dad, from his larger-than-life presence and joviality that made him the life of every party to the bullheaded conviction that had led him to forge the Lucky C ranch from the earth and transform it into a profitable enterprise.

On the surface, yes, Brett’s getting a girl pregnant out of wedlock seemed similar to his dad’s screwups, but the situation with Hannah wasn’t at all like the extramarital affair his dad had that resulted in Daniel’s conception. Brett hadn’t broken any marriage vows. Not that Brett or any of them would point out the differences aloud and risk making Daniel uncomfortable. He might only be their half brother by blood, but he was a full brother in their hearts—the only place it mattered.

He didn’t think Dad meant to be callous with the comment. Over the years, his dad had made it clear that he’d separated in his mind the sin of his affair from the love he felt for the son he’d gained from it. Still, Brett chanced a look in Daniel’s direction to see him staring out the window, as though he’d shuttered himself from the conversation.

Brett wished his sister, Greta, had been there. She had the kindest and most forgiving heart of all of them and, because of that, been the glue of the family since she’d been a child. She would’ve known what to say to ease the tension in the room and remind Daniel that their dad didn’t mean any harm.

With his eyes on Daniel’s profile, Brett cleared his throat and tried to imagine what Greta would’ve said had she been present. “Then it’s a good thing we grew up understanding that family is family and that a baby is a blessing, no matter what.”

Edith gave Brett an affectionate rub on the back. “Well said.”

Eric refilled his coffee mug. “I’m with you on that sentiment, but this is a lot to take in. I’d like more details about what happened. Forgive my bluntness, but I’ve gotten the impression that you’ve slept with plenty of women over the years, and you managed not to knock any of them up—I feel safe in saying. So how did a mistake like this come about? I mean, assuming it was an accident and she didn’t do this on purpose to get at our money. Because something smells fishy to me.”

Brett looked from Eric to Ryan and the rest of the family, all of whom wore expressions of surprise and concern and, as opposed to his dad and Jack, they looked as if they were ready to listen to what Brett had to say instead of merely pelting him with insults. Even Edith perched on the edge of a chair, her arms crossed and a sympathetic smile on her lips.

Brett shifted toward them, putting a cold shoulder to Jack. “She’s not trying to get at our family money, and you’re just going to have to trust me on that until you meet her.” Behind him, Jack chuffed, but Brett pressed on. “Here’s what happened. You remember that day, four months ago, when I wrapped my truck around the tree? That was the moment that made me turn my life around and get a clue about the kind of man I wanted to be and the kind of life I wanted to lead.”

“Of course we remember that,” Ryan said. “You tattered that truck and you’re lucky to be alive.”

“I am. I know. Leading up to that moment, I’d had a hell of a weekend, a real bender after Mom and I had argued. About what, I can’t even remember. Anyway, I’d gone out clubbing the night before the truck accident, which was where I met Hannah and slept with her. We used a condom—” Eric opened his mouth, probably to suggest that Hannah had sabotaged the condom, so Brett held a finger up to quiet him and added, “A condom that I provided, so get that out of your mind. Yesterday was the first time I’d seen her since that night. Needless to say, we had a long, serious talk. Neither one of us has any idea why the condom didn’t work.”

Jack templed his hands in front of his mouth. “Wait. She’s nineteen weeks pregnant, yet she didn’t tell you until yesterday? I’m with Eric. Something smells fishy to me.”

“Hate to beat a dead horse,” Ryan said, drumming his fingers on his knee, “and maybe you’re right and our suspicions will be laid to rest when we meet her, but this wouldn’t be the first time a desperate, misguided young woman tried to get at our family money. And with your less-than-monogamous lifestyle, you’d be the perfect target for a scam. My advice is for you to get a paternity test before this goes any further.”

Less-than-monogamous lifestyle. That would have been the understatement of the century a few months ago. Nevertheless, Hannah had called it correctly. On the surface, her being desperately hard-up for money and pregnant with a Colton’s child looked bad from every angle—except one. “No paternity test necessary. I’m going to take her word for it that I’m the father, and when you meet her, you’ll take her word for it, too.”

Dad snickered. “She’s that homely?”

“What? No. She’s that honest. Honest and smart and stubborn to a fault. You’ll see.” Because he knew that everything would change in their minds the moment they laid eyes on her. She’d win them all over with a single smile, of that he was certain.

His family still looked unconvinced, so Brett continued. “The reason she waited so long to tell me about the baby was that she wanted to get back on her feet first. Because she knows exactly how suspicious this looks from the outside. Hannah’s parents disowned her and fired her from their family business when they found out she was pregnant. She spent the last of her savings on medical care for her pregnancy and has been crashing on her friend’s sofa ever since. This solution, her moving here and working for us as an accountant, was my idea. And believe me, it took some convincing.”

“Wait, she’s not only going to work for us, but you’re moving her in here, without a paternity test, background check, nothing?” Jack said.

“I’ll run a background check on her, no problem.” Ryan whipped his phone out and peered at Hannah’s résumé, mouthing the letters of her name as he typed.

Brett grabbed the résumé away from Ryan’s gaze. “Not necessary. I went by her family’s store yesterday after I dropped Hannah off at her friend’s house and I talked to her parents. I didn’t tell them who I was or why I was there, but I asked them where Hannah was and congratulated them on her pregnancy, and let me tell you, they’re even nuttier and filled with more hate than I expected.”

Just picturing the fury in their expressions when they told him their heathen daughter was dead to them put Brett in a fighting mood. “What’s more, Hannah hadn’t told them I was the father. I don’t think she’s told anybody. Does that sound like the actions of someone trying to scam me?”

“A background check still wouldn’t hurt,” Ryan muttered.

Brett shook his head, ignoring Ryan, his attention on Jack. “So, to answer your question, yes, I am moving her in here. She’s homeless, jobless, out of money—and she’s having my baby. And she’s too stubborn to agree to anything that has the whiff of charity, which was why I offered her a job. Full-time with benefits so I can make sure she and the baby get the proper health care they need.”

He could tell he was breaking through their judgmental walls because they’d started to squirm, their eyes averted. Time to drive the nail the rest of the way in. He stood and tossed his napkin on the table. “Y’all keep banging on me about being irresponsible, and I’m the first to admit that I used to be. But even if you can’t see it, I’ve changed. This is me being responsible, doing the right thing and living up to our family’s code of honor. Ask yourself—what would you do if you were in my shoes?”

That shut them down, all but his dad. “Did you at least offer to make her an honest woman?”

The head of steam Brett had built up diffused a little. If they were moving on to questions like that, then perhaps his family was ready to accept Brett’s new reality. “This is the twenty-first century, Pops. A woman doesn’t have to be married to be considered honest.”

Dad chuffed at that, clearly a nonbeliever in that vein of modern-day feminism. “When’s this Hannah woman coming to the ranch?”

“I’m going into town to get her as soon as we’re done here.”

A car engine sounded outside. Everyone craned their necks to look out the windows. Brett took a few steps in that direction in time to watch a yellow taxi disappear along the road leading away from the house.

“Something tells me Ms. Hannah Grayson has saved you from having to make a trip into town,” Ryan said.

Jack clapped his hands together as he stood. “Let’s get this introduction over with.”

The somber resignation in Jack’s tone set Brett’s teeth on edge again. He whirled around, a warning on his tongue for everyone to behave themselves and show Hannah the respect she deserved, but Edith saved him from it.

“I have a better idea,” she said brightly from the doorway, where she stood with the rolling coffee cart in front of her, blocking passage. “Let’s give our new houseguest a chance to settle in first, before she has to contend with a household of grouchy men. Let Brett help her get acclimated first. Greta will be here tomorrow, and I can’t think of a better way to celebrate a new baby than with a big family dinner.”

Thank you, Edith. She was a commanding force in the house, not because she was pushy or overbearing, but because of her kindness and levelheaded management of the household since before Brett was born. The family respected her too much to defy her will. It was all he could do to keep himself from throwing his arms around her.

“That’s a perfect idea,” Brett said. “Hannah’s skittish enough about being here.”

Dad pushed himself out of his easy chair. “I like that plan. That’ll give me some time to get used to the idea.”

“You can eat at our house tonight, Big J,” Tracy said. “We can let Brett and Hannah have a private dinner together. It sounds like they still have a lot to talk about, if they just connected yesterday.”

That was a perfect idea. He’d have to talk to Edith about arranging for a multicourse dinner for the two of them, a meal they could really linger over while they got to know each other. “Thank you, Tracy.”

Eric rattled his car keys and inched toward the exit that Edith was still blocking. “I’ll try to make it tomorrow night, but I have a late shift at the hospital.” In other words, he was begging out of the event, as usual, because there was no way he drew so many short straws for late shifts at the hospital, coincidentally any time the rest of the Coltons planned a get-together.

“If we wait until tomorrow, then Tracy and Seth can meet Hannah at the same time, too.”

“I’ll plan a big dinner. Brett, you figure out what she likes and dislikes. Maybe there’s something she’s been craving.”

“Thank you,” Brett said. So relieved.

She stepped to the side and swept her hand toward the rear of the house. “Out the back entrance, all of you. No sense in intimidating her in the first five minutes she gets here with a big group of strapping, foul-tempered cowboys.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan mumbled in an exaggerated drawl. He kissed Edith’s cheek as he passed, as they each did, in a show of respect to the woman who’d played a fundamental part of their upbringing and daily lives for decades.

When the last of them had filed out of the room, she smiled lovingly at Brett. “I’ll talk to the staff and make sure you get the space you need to do this your way. And I’ll send Mavis up to the guest suite next to yours and have it fixed up for Hannah in no time. Fresh linens and the works.”

He gathered all hundred pounds of her in a tight hug, lifting her off her feet. “You’re a lifesaver. How do you always know the exact right thing to say?”

She blushed and swatted her hand through the air, dismissing the praise. “Hush, now. Go on and find Hannah before she gets cold feet and calls that taxi back.”

* * *

Hannah crept along the wraparound porch of Brett’s massive house, away from the window where she’d been eavesdropping. Not that she’d set out with the idea of listening in on Brett’s family’s conversation, but once she’d stumbled into hearing range, she’d been powerless to resist.

A case of cold feet had compelled her to ask the taxi driver to wait there until she gave him the all-clear to leave, just in case she had a change of heart or she’d accidentally come to the wrong house or she’d misunderstood Brett’s desire for her to move in that day. The driver hadn’t been too keen on waiting, but she’d promised him he could leave the meter running and after a bit more begging, he’d acquiesced.

After climbing the tall staircase leading from the circular driveway up to the mansion sitting on the highest and most central part of the ranch, she’d knocked and pressed the doorbell, but no one had answered. The longer she stood there, the more nervous she got and the more she doubted her decision to show up early.

Thinking that the house was so big that it was entirely possible that no one had heard the doorbell ring, she’d followed the porch around to the side of the house, which was when she’d heard voices. More specifically, she’d heard one of the men in the room explain his theory that their mother’s attacker was still on the loose and, potentially, had been lurking around the ranch.

Wait, what? That wasn’t what the local news had been reporting. Last night, she’d used Lori’s computer to research Brett’s mother’s attack. What she’d learned had made her heart break for Brett and his family. His mother had been attacked in her bedroom and left for dead, her belongings ransacked and her jewelry stolen by—according to the news report—a hit man who’d been hired to off Brett’s older brother’s fiancée. The main suspect had been gunned down, or so the police and the newspaper had indicated.

She continued to listen to Brett’s family talk, justifying the eavesdropping because she deserved to know if she was safe at the ranch or not, or if Brett had glossed over his family’s troubles in his fervor to get her to agree to his plan. If there was any chance that she was in danger at the ranch, she could turn right around and leave.

But the more she listened, the more affected she was by the hurt in each man’s voice over their mother’s assault and their frustration that her investigation had stalled. And then, one minute turned into the next, and before she knew it, she was listening to Brett tell his family that he’d hired an accountant.

She was touched by his approach, and that he’d opened the conversation with a discussion of her accounting skills. For whatever reason, that mattered to her. A lot. He’d stood up for her, and complimented her abilities and qualifications. She’d been held entranced by his praise...right up until one of the other men in the room had labeled her as Brett’s good-time girl of the week.

She’d winced at that, even though she agreed with the term, if not the negative judgment implied by it. She’d been Brett’s good-time girl as much as he’d been her good-time guy for the night. While she refused to be shamed for enjoying her sexuality, even if Brett’s family turned out to judge her as harshly as her own family had, it still smarted to realize that, as she’d expected might happen, Brett’s family assumed she was trying to get at their money. It wasn’t a shock that they didn’t trust her. The surprise was that they didn’t seem to trust Brett, either. And that frosted Hannah something fierce because she’d suffered the same mistrust at the hands of her own family.

Probably, her relationship with Brett’s family would go a lot more smoothly if she weren’t aware of their candid feelings about her and Brett, because those assumptions didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. All that mattered was that she believed in herself and knew in her heart that she was a good and honest person. Which meant it was high time for her to get the heck out of earshot again.

She tiptoed back to the front of the house and down the stairs, her eye on the taxi. Nothing was stopping her from jumping back in it and taking off. Except that there kind of was, now that she was considering it. Brett was being judged by his family the same as she’d been by hers. They were about to become parents together, and if she stayed with him, if she gave him a chance, then she would spare him from her same fate of having to face his family’s negativity alone.

And Brett had told her the day before that his father was slipping mentally. Not only that, but Brett’s dad shouldn’t be working so hard around the ranch when his wife lay in a coma. Brett’s father deserved better and the ranch deserved better, too, because Brett was also right about them needing an actual financial specialist to help them with long-term tax planning, one of her specialties. No matter how negatively Brett’s family judged her for getting pregnant, her conscience couldn’t just walk away from that situation.

Her two measly pieces of luggage sat in the driveway next to the cab. She’d packed light because, one, she had no idea how long she was staying, and, two, she didn’t actually own that much stuff anymore, having sold most of it to afford the business of living. She navigated around the suitcases and handed the taxi driver his rate plus a generous tip through the open driver’s side window. “Thank you for waiting. Have a nice—”

“Back up so I can turn around.”

Gee, what a sweet guy. So deserving of my last bit of cash as a tip—not. She stepped back and tripped over her suitcases, planting her rear end hard on the one she’d knocked over.

Her face growing hot with embarrassment, she took a furtive glance around for witnesses. Not seeing any, she stood and brushed off her dress in time to watch the taxi hauling butt in a cloud of dust as it disappeared along the dirt road.

She took a moment to catch her breath, marveling at the endless string of awkward moments that her life had become since graduating from college. What was her next move? Should she try knocking again? Call Brett’s cell phone? Settle in on the porch and wait for Brett’s family to find her after they finished their meeting?

“If you’re here looking for a handout from Mr. Colton, then you’d best be leaving before I call the police,” called a female voice.

Hannah turned to see a familiar, if unexpected, face. Her defenses immediately went on red alert, as they did every time she saw someone from the Congregation of the Second Coming. “Mavis?”

Mavis Turnbolt was dressed in what could only be described as a maid’s uniform. Her brown hair was constrained in a tight braid that had been coiled into a bun from which no wild hairs had escaped. She was only a year older than Hannah, and over the years, their mothers had made valiant, yet fruitless, attempts to push them into friendship. She could’ve lived the rest of her life without needing to see any member of the Turnbolt family again, but after all she’d been through, another piece of bad luck didn’t even faze her.

Then again, it wasn’t fair of Hannah to be critical of Mavis in exactly the same way she hated to be judged. Hannah hadn’t been to the church in years, not since her eighteenth birthday, so for all she knew, Mavis had broken the hold that the church had over her, just as Hannah had.

“It’s nice to see a friendly face. I had no idea you worked here,” Hannah said, offering her hand for a handshake. “I work here now, too.”

Mavis eyed Hannah’s hand as if it were a snake. “I will not be associating with jezebels, so you’d best take that hand back.”

So much for that fair chance. “And you’d best watch your attitude. Neither my baby nor I deserves your scorn.”

“Scorn is the only thing a sinner like you deserves. Wait until the Coltons learn they’ve hired one of Satan’s newest disciples.”

Hannah wrapped a protective arm around her belly. “First of all, this baby is a Colton, thank you very much. And second, can you even hear yourself? Satan’s newest disciple? Really?” She cringed inwardly, wishing she’d thought twice before engaging with someone who was so filled with hate. It wasn’t as though she stood a chance of changing Mavis’s mind.