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“Here?” Alex gulped.
“Yes, and since there’s a strong resemblance, folks in town may have already realized you’re his son.”
Alex nervously rubbed his nose. People had looked at him funny and said he seemed familiar, but he’d thought it was because of his great-grandparents.
“Uh, what’s my birth dad like?”
His mother shook her head. “It’s hard to say. I briefly ran into him today, but that’s the first time I’ve seen Jackson since before you were born. I’ll talk with him as soon as possible, and should know more after that. In the meantime, I also need to explain everything to your sister.”
“DeeDee doesn’t have to know,” Alex protested.
“She does unless we leave Montana immediately, which isn’t going to happen. And it might even follow us back to Seattle. This is like breaking an egg—we can’t put the pieces back together again in the same way. So start thinking about whether you want to meet your birth father. I’ve left a message at his house so we can get together and talk. I can try to arrange for you to meet him, but to some extent, the timing is up to you.”
That made him feel a little better.
Mom stood up. “I’m going to see DeeDee right now. I don’t want her to hear what’s happening from anyone else.”
“Uh, okay,” Alex said reluctantly, then realized there was something he wanted to ask. “Wait. Why didn’t my birth dad ever come to see me?”
His mother looked uncomfortable. “It’s complicated. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
Alex settled back on the bed, convinced she wasn’t telling him everything.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Kayla turned in at the road with the Crazy Horse Ranch sign arching over it. She’d been tempted to come over the evening before, but dealing with Jackson when she was so tired hadn’t seemed wise. Instead, she’d called a second time, leaving another message on voice mail when no one had picked up.
Maybe Jackson would be more reasonable than the last time they’d really spoken. After all, there was a vast difference between a grown man and a boy confronted with his girlfriend’s unwanted pregnancy. On the other hand, Jackson hadn’t returned either of her calls, despite her saying it was urgent, so maybe he was as pigheaded as ever.
Rather than wait, she’d decided to drive out to the ranch before someone mentioned Alex’s resemblance to Jackson or his family. She didn’t care if it embarrassed Jackson, but it would be rotten for his daughter to learn something of that sort from anyone but her father. And the McGregors had been nice people. They hadn’t approved of her, but that didn’t mean she wanted them to be blindsided by gossip.
Parking in front of the house, Kayla climbed from the car and straightened her shoulders. The two-story structure was surprising—too new and modern to fit the open, rolling land. But the two vehicles parked to one side—a huge black SUV and a pickup truck—fit with every stereotype she’d ever had of Montana ranchers.
The doorbell seemed loud and tension crawled up her spine as light footsteps approached...definitely not those of a man of Jackson’s size.
The door opened, revealing a woman with iron-gray hair and a stiff expression. Probably a housekeeper. Grams had mentioned that Jackson was divorced from Marcy Lipton.
“Yes?”
“I’d like to speak with Jackson McGregor,” Kayla said.
The woman assessed her up and down. “Name?” If she was the housekeeper, she hadn’t been chosen for her personality.
“Kayla Anderson.”
“I’ll let him know you’re here.”
The door swung partly shut, but from the little Kayla could see of the house’s interior, it was more of what she’d expect to see on a ranch—big comfortable leather furniture and a pair of women’s riding boots near the fireplace. A lady friend’s boots, or did they belong to Jackson’s daughter? Impatiently she pushed the thought away.
Heavier footsteps sounded, then the door opened again and Jackson’s tall, powerful frame filled the space.
“Hello, Kayla. What do you want?” His expression was less friendly than it had been the day before.
“I have something to discuss with you.”
“We have nothing to talk about, last night or today.”
She pressed her lips together, a remnant of her old anger at him surfacing, but she pushed it away. They weren’t kids any longer; it was the present that mattered.
“You’re wrong. Is your daughter here?”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “She’s in her bedroom.”
“Then, we should speak someplace more private. How about Riverside Park at ten?” she asked.
Kayla still hoped to protect the youngster from accidental discoveries...such as the way Alex had learned that Curtis had adopted him. How could her ex-husband have been so careless? He’d told his new stepson about the adoption. Had he expected Brant would keep it to himself?
Of all the rotten things that could have happened, Alex learning the truth from his stepbrother was one of the lousiest. Kayla had met Brant a few times and her son was right, the kid was obnoxious.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re so sure we have something to discuss, why didn’t you let me know you were coming to Schuyler? I don’t appreciate being ambushed.”
She kept her temper with an effort. Honestly, did he think the entire world revolved around him? His old-fashioned attitudes hadn’t bothered her in high school, but they didn’t go down well now.
“Forty-eight hours ago I didn’t know I was coming to Montana, and this isn’t something that can wait. Now, do you really want to have this discussion within earshot of your daughter?” she asked in a voice that wasn’t quite a whisper.
Jackson’s eyes darkened. “Fine. Ten at the county park. I’ll see you there.”
“Make sure of it,” she said calmly. “I’m not going away just because you don’t want to deal with this.”
Head held high, Kayla walked to her car, climbed in and drove away, only relaxing her posture after the house was out of sight.
Fifteen minutes later she parked in the lot near the group picnic site, a sense of unreality coming over her. How could she be back in Schuyler? Two days ago she’d spent the afternoon with her manager debating whether to hire a new insurance billing specialist. To unwind, she’d stopped at a friend’s house to visit, only to have Melinda talk about fixing Kayla up with her recently divorced brother. Kayla had paid less attention to her friend’s matchmaking than usual; she’d been missing the kids and thinking about their pleas to go camping at Yellowstone that summer.
Then her cell phone had rung. It had been Curtis, telling her that he hadn’t seen Alex that day, but he was sure everything was fine.
“It’s after 7:00 p.m.,” she’d screamed, panic overwhelming her. “You don’t know where he’s been since he went to bed last night?”
“We just... I mean, Brant and I left early to go kayaking. We invited Alex to go with us, but he wanted to sleep in. I’m sure it’s just normal teenage independence, going off and doing his own thing. About time, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you,” she’d snapped. “Where was DeeDee all day?”
“At a friend’s place.”
Bitterly, Kayla had wanted to point out that the kids were there to have time with their father, not to spend the day alone or with their friends. But she had stayed silent, her first priority being Alex. She’d rushed home. Frantically searching his room for a clue, she had finally spotted a note peeking out from under his computer keyboard, possibly in hopes it wouldn’t be found for a while.
Her son’s claim he’d gone to Montana had seemed so incredible that she’d wasted precious time contacting his best friend to confirm it. Sandy had reluctantly admitted to getting an email from Alex, explaining he was on his way to Schuyler, but that his phone was nearly dead, so he’d be out of contact until he could recharge it. After calling police stations, sheriff’s offices and hospitals from Seattle to Schuyler, Kayla had collected a sleepy DeeDee from Curtis’s house and headed for Montana herself.
Part of her wanted to strangle her ex-husband, but it was also her fault. She’d known they should tell Alex the truth about the adoption from the beginning, but she’d been in love and it was what Curtis had wanted as his wedding gift. And yet when she’d called him the night before to explain why Alex had run away, Curtis had said, “Oh, well, I guess it’s best he knows.”
Forcing herself into the present, Kayla watched the clock on the dashboard tick off the minutes. At ten the black pickup truck she’d seen next to Jackson’s house pulled up and she got out of the Volvo.
“I only came because I don’t want my daughter overhearing any nonsense,” Jackson growled as he marched around the hood of his Chevy. He was the classic image of a rancher—lean, skin tanned, wearing jeans, a worn shirt, boots and a cowboy hat pushed back on his head.
“It isn’t nonsense,” Kayla said evenly. “And remember I’m the one who tried to be considerate by suggesting we meet elsewhere.”
“Considerate would be leaving me alone.”
“No, considerate would have been listening sixteen years ago instead of dismissing me and saying I slept around.”
Jackson made a visible effort to calm down. “Kayla, I realize things must have been difficult for you and I’m sorry about that, but you can’t expect me to take responsibility for someone else’s child.”
She gave him a narrow look. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that I might have been telling the truth?”
He sighed. “I’ve thought about it, but I was very careful about birth control and half the guys in school were boasting about being with you. I didn’t believe them until you claimed I’d gotten you pregnant.”
“Condoms can fail.”
“I always checked after we were done and they were intact.”
Kayla remembered him checking and how she’d interpreted it as thoughtfulness. “There must have been something you missed.”
“A million-to-one chance against a girl that every guy in the school knew had a birthmark on her hip.”
“It would have been easy for someone to find out about a birthmark without having had sex with me,” Kayla retorted. She’d always figured it was Marcy who’d shared that information after Jackson had stopped dating her and asked Kayla out. Marcy’s locker had been close to hers in gym class, so it would have been easy to spot something normally covered by clothes.
“Regardless, you’re going to drop this, now and forever,” Jackson ordered.
Kayla raised her eyebrows. Would he have been so peremptory toward another man?
“Perhaps I could have been more tactful when you announced you were pregnant,” he continued, “but that was a long time ago. I have my daughter to consider, and girls are very sensitive to this sort of thing.”
“Girls are sensitive to...?” Kayla repeated in disbelief. “That’s pretty damn patronizing. Teenagers are sensitive to everything and gender doesn’t make much difference. You’re obviously even more chauvinistic than you used to be.”
Jackson made a dismissive gesture. “I don’t care what you call it. I didn’t sleep all night, trying to think of ways to protect Morgan from any wild rumors you might start.”
There were lines of exhaustion under his eyes and dark beard stubble on his jaw, so he might have stayed up all night. Jackson was more gorgeous and sexy than ever, but otherwise, she wasn’t impressed with what she’d seen of him as an adult.
“I’m going to try this again,” Kayla said carefully. “No one is asking you take responsibility for Alex. I’m well able to take care of him myself. I wouldn’t have called you in the first place, except my son is here in Schuyler. We can get genetic tests and I could go through the court to force it, but I doubt a judge will consider it necessary. The resemblance between the two of you is unmistakable. Because of it, people are already talking, and I don’t think it’s fair for your daughter to learn about it on Facebook or get a tweet that she has a brother.”
Her words seemed to pull Jackson up short. In the silence Kayla took out her smartphone and brought up Alex’s latest school photo.
She held it out. “Let me introduce you to your son.”
As he stared at the screen, the stunned expression on Jackson’s face spoke volumes.
* * *
JACKSON FELT THE way he had when a bronco had tossed him at the Schuyler Rodeo Days and he’d landed on a fence railing. By comparison, having two broken ribs and twenty-three stitches was a picnic. Deep down he wanted to believe the picture was a fake and didn’t prove a thing. But the kid looked like him. No question about it.
Pain went through Jackson’s gut. He might have been a rebellious teen, but the McGregors took care of family, no matter what. It was part of their code. The idea that he had a son he hadn’t known or supported was a hard pill to swallow.
“Well?” Kayla prompted.
“I suppose he’s overdue for a father,” Jackson choked out.
She crossed her arms over her stomach. “You’re assuming I stayed a single mom? Maybe on welfare or delivering pizzas?”
“Of course not. You have a different last name, so I figured you’d got married.”
“Divorced now, but I got married when Alex was three. Curtis is an accountant in Seattle. He legally adopted Alex the year we were married.”
Adopted? Jackson was floored. “How could the court allow it without my permission?”
“They didn’t need permission—you weren’t on the birth certificate,” Kayla retorted.
“Didn’t you think Alex had the right to have his father listed?”
“Oh, gee, let me think. I was barely seventeen and the father of my baby had denied any possible responsibility, calling me a slut and—”
“I never called you a slut,” Jackson said hastily.
“It boils down to the same thing. I didn’t want your name anywhere near my son. Frankly, I’m not crazy about having you near him now. I was hoping you’d changed, but the only change I’ve seen has been negative.”
Jackson pulled a slow breath into his chest, reminding himself that Kayla was the injured party and he had only himself to blame for missing so much of his son’s life.
“Look, I’m sorry for not believing you, but you did have a reputation,” he reminded her, still wanting to believe he hadn’t screwed up that badly.
Too late, his conscience mocked him.
“My so-called reputation was almost certainly invented by your on-again, off-again girlfriend,” Kayla informed him crisply. “If any boys claimed something else, it was bravado talking. Marcy was spiteful and wanted you back. And she got what she wanted—you dumped me without a word and got engaged to her. I understand you married her right after graduation.”
Kayla’s expression reminded Jackson of the chin-up, ready-to-take-a-hit attitude she had exuded as a belligerent kid. Back then she’d fascinated him, the street-savvy newcomer, so different from the girls who’d grown up around Schuyler. She’d also been one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. And Josh was right—Kayla was still hot. Her long legs were topped by a tight rear end covered in formfitting jeans, while her snug T-shirt revealed the kind of curves that made a man’s blood simmer. The mother of a teenager shouldn’t look so provocative.
As for Marcy being spiteful enough to spread malicious lies? It was possible. Hell, it was more than possible. She’d turned out to be less than admirable, more interested in his generous trust fund than in him. In fact, he suspected Marcy had gotten pregnant deliberately, hoping he would marry her. Maybe if she’d realized her mother had inherited a fortune that would come to her one day, she wouldn’t have been so eager to get married.
“We can discuss what happened later, but right now I want to see my son,” Jackson said.
“That’s up to Alex.”
“Kids don’t always know what’s best.”
“I agree,” Kayla told him, “only it isn’t that easy. He...uh, ran away to Schuyler. That’s the only reason I’m here. I never planned to return.”
“Is he okay?” Jackson demanded. “How far did he get on his own?”
“We live in Seattle. He showed up at my grandparents’ house rather quickly and says nothing bad happened on the road, but it scared the hell out of me.”
“It scares me, and I didn’t even know about it beforehand. But don’t you think Alex running away to Schuyler had something to do with wanting to see his birth dad?”
