The Cowboy's Son

And it was all those things combined that had made Collena come up with her plan.

A plan that had to work. Even though she had no idea how she was going to convince Dylan Greer to do what she needed him to do.

She studied the man ahead of her. He had the looks to go along with that sterling reputation. He was, for lack of a better word, golden. Bronze-colored hair that fell low on the back of his neck. Naturally tan skin. And those sizzling green eyes. Amazing eyes to compliment his amazingly rugged face.

Collena hated that she noticed the last part, but it would have been impossible to ignore. If the world ever needed a cowboy cover model, Dylan Greer would be the perfect man for the job.

She’d expected to feel insecure and inferior around him, what with his money, education and power. There would always be some of that. But Collena hadn’t expected to feel the slight tingle inside that reminded her she was a woman.

A hungry woman.

The tingle couldn’t have anything to do with Dylan. Low blood-sugar levels were to blame. And Collena refused to believe otherwise. She had a job to do here, and she couldn’t let tingling feelings get in the way.

“I take it there’s a history between Dylan and you?” The deputy didn’t wait for her to answer. “Were you two lovers and then you gave up your baby for adoption?”

“Nothing like that,” she muttered. So she wouldn’t have to continue this interrogation, she hurried to catch up with Dylan. “Did you hear what I said about being Adam’s mother?”

It was a rhetorical question, a way to get the conversation started. Because Collena was dead certain he had heard every single word she’d said back there in the stables.

He spared her a glance and kept walking through the pasture. “There was no reason to respond because I don’t believe you.”

Ah, skepticism. She’d expected that, too. “It’s the truth. I have proof.”

Another glance. This one had some fire and ice to it. He had the eyes for such a range of emotion. Those shades of green seemed both hot and cold at the same time. Right now, they were leaning toward the chilly side, and that chill was all aimed at her.

“I’ll be interested in this so-called proof,” he said, opening the door. He went in ahead of her and checked out the place before he motioned for her to enter.

Collena stepped inside the toasty warm room, and she could almost feel her body sigh with relief. The deputy came in, shut the door behind him and brushed the snowflakes off his clothes.

Collena soon detected the source of the welcoming heat. There was a massive stone fireplace with flames flickering inside. The place smelled of mesquite wood and the scents from the winter pasture that they’d brought in with them. There was also the aroma of roasting turkey and pumpkin pie. Someone was apparently getting ready for Thanksgiving.

Her stomach growled, but Collena ignored it. She had a more important task at hand.

Dylan Greer’s office was exactly what she’d expected. Palatial and functional. Horse-themed artwork on the walls. Rich, glossy woods for the floor and desk, and on the desk was a sliver-thin computer monitor and a gleaming silver tray with coffee, raisin wheat toast, biscuits and crystal dishes of various jams and marmalades.

A photograph next to the computer monitor caught Collena’s eye. It was a picture of Dylan holding a baby.

Her baby.

But before she could get a better look, Dylan grabbed the photo and slammed it facedown on his desk. He picked up his phone, punched in some numbers and requested a background check on her.

Which she’d expected. She’d certainly done a thorough check on Dylan.

“Jonah, you can go get your coffee now,” Dylan advised.

The deputy scowled at what was obviously an order, but he headed for the set of interior doors. However, the doors opened before he could get to them.

A woman was in the doorway. Ina, maybe? She was in her late fifties, Collena guessed, and her copper-red hair was cut very short, less than an inch long around her entire head.

“Where’s Adam?” Dylan immediately asked.

“Still asleep. I was about to wake him for breakfast and then give him a bath.” She glared at Collena with piercing stone-gray eyes. “Are you the intruder?”

“Yes.” The woman’s scrutiny suddenly made Collena feel a tad guilty. “I’m sorry that I caused such a fuss.”

The woman made a grunting sound of disapproval.

“Go back to the nursery,” Dylan told his employee. It was another order. “And stay there until you hear from me.”

The woman’s sound of disapproval became one of concern. “What’s going on, Dylan?”

“I’ll fill you in later.” He didn’t say another word until both the woman and the deputy were out of the room and the doors were closed.

“Was that the nanny?” Collena asked.

He paused so long that she didn’t think he would answer. “Yes. Her name is Ruth. If you did a background check on me, then you also know she was my own nanny and someone I trust.”

“Ruth Sayers,” Collena supplied. “Her name did come up.” And she was clean. No criminal record. In fact, not even a traffic violation.

“Just what kind of proof do you think you have about the adoption being illegal?” Dylan asked.

“More than enough.” Because she was feeling light-headed again, Collena sank down into the plush saddle-brown leather chair across from his desk and tugged off her gloves. “As I said I’ve been investigating the Brighton case since August of last year. When I realized just how many babies had been illegally adopted, I asked for help from the pediatric community. I was able to get names of adopted babies, and I compared them to those who had been legally adopted.”

He pushed the silver tray toward her and motioned for her to eat. When he motioned a second time, Collena pinched off a piece of raisin wheat toast and popped it into her mouth. Even though it was cold, it tasted heavenly.

“And you’re saying that Adam’s name came up on that list of adopted babies?” he asked. But he didn’t just ask. It was buried under a mountain of skepticism.

She nodded. “Adam’s name and one hundred and twelve other infant boys. There were a lot of them, and that’s why it’s taken me so long to find my son.”

His jaw turned to iron. He paced a few steps in front of the fireplace, turned and stared at her before taking one of the biscuits, opening it and handing both it and the silver jam spoon to her.

With the hopes that her faintness would go away, Collena smeared some strawberry jam on one half and started to eat. Dylan didn’t say anything until she had finished.

“Adam’s my son,” he insisted. “And I don’t really care what kind of proof you have. You gave him up—”

“I didn’t give him up.”

Oh, that had not been easy to say. Collena had to choke back all the pain and emotion just so she could speak.

“Sixteen months ago, I went into premature labor while I was at Brighton,” she explained. “Without my consent, a doctor gave me a strong narcotic so that he could steal my baby. I fought him and his accomplice as much as I could. I managed to escape…eventually. What I wasn’t able to do was find my child. Until now.”

He cursed. And then as if he’d declared war on it, he peeled off his jacket and tossed it into the closet. He didn’t stop there. Dylan came across the room, bracketed his hands on his desk and leaned in so he could stare at her some more.

“And why should I believe you?” he challenged.

Collena tried to keep her voice level. “In my car I have the police and doctors’ reports detailing what happened to me and the subsequent arrest of the director at Brighton. I also have the original files. Both sets, the legal ones that Brighton put together, and the illegal ones they figured no one but them would ever see.”

He shook his head. “Reports and files don’t prove anything about Adam. So what if you had a child? It could have been any child.”

“Adam’s date of birth matches the day I delivered,” she pointed out.

“That could be a coincidence. You could be confused about the date.”

She took a deep breath and tried to tamp down her frustration. She couldn’t say she hadn’t expected this though. In fact, Collena figured there’d be many rounds of stonewalling before he started to come to terms with this.

“I’m not confused. There were only four baby boys born that particular day at Brighton,” Collena said. “And three are already accounted for.”

He waited a moment, and she could almost see the thought process going on behind those eyes. “This doesn’t make any sense. I want to talk to Adam’s birth father.”

“He’s dead.” And for the time being, that’s all she intended to say about her late fiancé, Sean Reese. Thankfully, Adam would never have to have Sean in his life, but that didn’t mean Sean’s DNA couldn’t come back to haunt them. Later, she’d have to explain all of that to Dylan. “Look, I know this is hard to accept—”

“You have no idea.”

“But I do. Remember, someone stole my baby and tried to kill me. I have an inkling of what it’s like to lose something as important as a child.”

Oh, mercy. She felt the tears threaten, and she tried to blink them back. One escaped anyway, but she quickly wiped it away so there’d be no proof of the pain that had ripped her heart apart.

“Look at me,” Collena requested. “Don’t you see some kind of resemblance between Adam and me?”

It was a gamble, because Collena had no idea if her son did indeed resemble her.

But the gamble paid off.

Dylan combed his gaze over her. Studying her, hard. And at the end of several snail-crawling moments, he groaned and scrubbed his hand over his face. He dropped down in the chair across from her and raised his head.

“Adam has blond hair and brown eyes,” he admitted. “Like you.”

The relief washed over her. Not because she doubted this child was hers. No. She was positive of it. But the resemblance might go a long way to convincing Dylan of what she already knew.

It might also convince him to accept the deal she was about to offer.

“I won’t believe any of this until I see DNA results,” he added a moment later.

Collena had anticipated that, as well. “I already have DNA results to prove he’s mine.”

“You couldn’t.”

“But I do. You probably remember telling your adoption attorney that you wanted your baby’s umbilical cord to be stored in case it was needed in the future. Since the storage facility was also owned by Brighton, the police got a search warrant to have all the umbilical cords tested. The newborns’ identities were all in code, so I knew that one of the babies was mine, it just took a lot of DNA tests to figure out which one.”

He pulled in his breath. “And how do you know that you unraveled the code correctly?”

“Because all the other babies have been accounted for. All except Adam. He’s the last one on the list.”

Collena took the small DNA test kit from her pocket, opened it and wiped the sterile swab on the inside of her cheek. She put it in the plastic bag, resealed it and handed it to him.

“You can send it to any lab you choose,” Collena instructed. “Ask for a maternity study. Have them expedite it. Within forty-eight hours you should have the proof you need.”

“Need for what?” He stood and dropped the kit onto his desk. He pressed his thumb to his chest. “I love him. Adam is my son.”

Collena stood also, so she could make eye contact. “I love him, too. And he’s my son.”

He cursed, and it wasn’t mild. “I can’t give him up.”

“Neither can I.”

“I’ll fight this in court.” His stare turned to a glare. “I’ll have to.”

“Maybe not.”

Dylan blinked, and his forehead bunched up. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I know you’re a good father.” She motioned around the room. “And I can’t give Adam all the material things you’ve given him. Or the stability. Or the respectability.”

There was more.

She’d save that for later.

On top of everything else he’d learned, it might be too much for Dylan Greer to hear that they might both lose the precious child they loved.

“And I can’t overlook the fact that you’re the only parent that Adam knows,” Collena added, hoping that she was making her case. “To take him from you now would be as criminal as what happened to me at Brighton sixteen months ago.”

His glare softened. “Are you saying you won’t fight me for custody?”

“Not exactly.”

The softening vanished. “Then, what are you saying?” he asked.

Mercy, she only hoped this sounded better aloud than it did in her head. But it didn’t matter if it sounded insane. She had no choice.

“What I’m offering is more of a compromise,” Collena explained. “When you weigh all the options, when you think about how we can both have Adam in our lives, there’s only one thing you can do.”

His glare returned and intensified. “And what’s that one thing that I can do?”

Collena braced herself for his reaction. “You can marry me.”

Chapter Three

Dylan hadn’t thought there could be any more surprises today, but he was obviously wrong. Collena Drake had just delivered the ultimate surprise.

“Marry you?” he questioned.

She nodded and moistened her lips. “I’m Adam’s mother. You’ve raised him, true, but we both love him. It seems…reasonable that we can both be his parents.”

“You don’t even know him,” Dylan tossed right back at her.

“He’s my child. I love him.”

He couldn’t dispute that. He’d loved Adam, too, from the moment that he learned Adam was his. Dylan hadn’t had to see him to know just how deep that love was. Still, that didn’t mean this woman had a claim to Adam.

“Neither of us wants to lose him,” Collena added as if that would change his mind. It wouldn’t.

“And you think the solution is for us to get married, even though we’re perfect strangers?”

She nodded.

He didn’t agree with her. It was an insane proposition. He couldn’t do it. Could he?

Oh, man. He hated to even consider it, but Dylan went through a mental list of reasons why he shouldn’t. He had no idea who this woman really was. And even if she proved everything she’d said, it would still mean a marriage to a stranger so that he could keep his child.

Dylan wasn’t sure he could go that far, nor was he sure he had to. There was rarely just one solution to a problem, even when that problem was as massive as this one appeared to be.

“And what if I say no to your marriage proposal?” Dylan asked.

She took a deep breath. “Then I’ll petition the courts to return Adam to me. In my car, I have all the documentation to prove that he’s mine and that the adoption was illegal. I’ve already retained an attorney. He could file my petition as early as tomorrow morning. In nearly all the Brighton cases, the illegally adopted children have been returned to the birth parents. And in those cases where they weren’t, it’s because both birth parents were dead.”

Dylan felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Collena had obviously given this plenty of thought, but then, according to what she had said earlier, she’d had three days to absorb it. He was still trying to come to terms with it, and for him, it was a nightmare.

The adoption attorney he’d used had sworn to him that there were no birth parents in the picture, that they were both deceased. Well, it seemed that either the adoption attorney had been wrong or he was a criminal.

Or maybe this was simply a case of someone on the Brighton staff lying to his attorney.

“In other words, if I don’t jump at the chance to marry you, you’ll try to cut me out of Adam’s life,” Dylan mumbled. “This is blackmail, pure and simple. If it’s money, you’re after—”

“I’m not after your money. In fact, I’ll sign a prenup agreement and won’t use any of your income or resources for my own expenses. What I’m after is far more important than money. I want a decent life for my child. A life that includes me. You were born and raised here. You don’t know what it’s like to be considered trash.”

That set off some alarms. Dylan stared at her. “And you do?”

“I do.” She glanced away for a moment. “I had the misfortune of not being born in the right family. My son has the chance I didn’t, and I don’t want that chance taken away from him.”

Neither did he. Nor did he want to consider what his own life would be like without Adam. Some way, somehow, he would keep him.

“I trust that you don’t need an answer right now,” Dylan said.

“Of course not.” She stood as if prepared to go.

Dylan heard the slight static sound then, and he groaned. Someone was listening on the intercom. He’d forgotten to turn it off earlier when he’d rushed out to find the intruder.

“This is private conversation,” he called out. He pointed to the intercom speaker so that his guest would know why he’d said that. No one confessed to the eavesdropping, but Dylan added, “Ask Jonah to come to my office. He’ll need to escort Ms. Drake to her car.”

Dylan turned back to face her. “I need some time to think this through.”

She nodded. “What you mean, is you need to consult your attorney.”

“That, too.”

“Go ahead. Talk to your attorney. I’m sure he or she will tell you what I’ve already told you—that I have a legal right to claim the child that was stolen from me.” She glanced at the picture that he’d turned facedown on his desk. “May I see Adam?”

Dylan didn’t even have to think about it. “No.” He wasn’t ready to share Adam with this woman.

Heck, he might never be ready to do that.

She stared at him, as if she might challenge his decision, but she didn’t. “When we were by the stables, you said something about a killer. Is there some kind of threat to Adam?”

Oh, hell.

Dylan didn’t want to go there, because this was exactly the kind of fodder she could use if she challenged him for custody. “I’m a cautious man,” he said. “Adam is safe.”

“But you said your fiancée and sister were murdered,” she reminded him.

“I believe they were. But they have nothing to do with Adam.”

“You’re certain?”

“Absolutely,” he lied.

But the only thing that was absolute was that the two people he loved the most—his sister and fiancée—had been murdered.

Another girl, his high school girlfriend, had been viciously assaulted after Dylan had taken her to the prom. The incident had so traumatized her that she’d moved away from Greer. Dylan, too, had moved away for a while. To San Antonio, right after he graduated from college.

For all the good it’d done.

A woman he’d dated there had also been assaulted one night when putting her recycling bin on the curb. The police hadn’t been able to find the person responsible. Ditto for his prom date—no suspects and no arrests. And the local sheriff had ruled his sister’s and fiancée’s deaths accidental.

But Dylan knew better.

Those two car crashes had not been accidents. And neither had the other assaults. They were connected to him. He was the only common denominator.

Since he was aware of that, he’d learned to take precautions, and he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Adam—accidental or otherwise. In fact, that’s the reason he hadn’t been seriously involved with any woman since his fiancée’s death five years earlier. For whatever reason, it seemed as if someone didn’t want him to be happy in love.

“If there’s a threat to Adam,” he heard Collena say, “then I need to know about it.”

And Dylan decided to turn the tables on her. “You said someone tried to kill you after you gave birth.”

She nodded. And swallowed hard.

“Then maybe whoever it was will try to come after you again and finish what he started,” he pointed out.

“No. The Brighton criminals were arrested. Some are dead and some are in jail.”

Because he thought there might be doubt in the depths of her brown eyes, he pushed harder. “You’re absolutely positive that the police rounded up all of them?”

“I’m as certain of it as you are of the fact that your sister and fiancée’s killer has nothing to do with Adam.”

Touché. Under different circumstances, Dylan might have liked her.

“So, why suggest marriage?” Dylan asked.

“On paper, it’s the best solution. Adam will have two parents who love him. He’ll want for nothing. No shared custody. No one weekend with you, the other weekend with me. And if we’re married, if you legally adopted him, then there’ll be no way that anyone can cut either of us out of his life.”

That last part sounded reasonable, but the whole picture had flaws the size of Texas. “And what about a loveless marriage? Do you really want that?”

Collena made a soft sound of amusement. “From my experience, love is vastly overrated.”

“You’re too young to be so skeptical,” he commented.

“I’m a lot older than my age might imply.” She shifted her position. “Look, I’m not some starry-eyed gold digger, Mr. Greer. I don’t want a husband, a lover or someone’s shoulder to cry on. I don’t even want someone to support me or pretend that I matter to him. I just want the best possible life for my son. A life where no one is pointing fingers at him because he’s different.”

Dylan didn’t let himself react to the emotion. To the truthful tone of that obviously painful confession. “If you wanted that, you should have stayed away from him,” he challenged.

“I considered it.”

And she was serious, too. Serious enough to bring tears to her eyes. It was the second time today that she’d teared up, but even with that track record, Dylan didn’t think she was a woman accustomed to showing her feelings. Those tears looked out of place.

“You considered staying away,” he paraphrased. “Yet, you came anyway. Lucky me.”

“I tried, but I can’t give him up.” She moistened her lips, looked away. “I lost him once, and I can’t survive if I have to go through that again.”

Unfortunately, Dylan knew what she meant, but he pushed aside the camaraderie he felt. It was best to keep his feelings toward Collena Drake as detached as possible.

He checked his watch and realized it’d been a good ten minutes since he’d asked Jonah to return. Dylan hit the intercom button on his desk so he could be heard in the kitchen.

“Jonah?”

“He left,” Dylan heard Ina, the cook, say. “He said he had another call.”

Well, that was just great. Jonah wasn’t finished with this call. For all the deputy knew, Collena Drake could have been a killer. At a minimum, she’d trespassed, and Jonah should have waited around long enough to see if he was going to have to arrest her for that. Not that Dylan planned to have her thrown in jail. But Jonah didn’t know that.

“I can see myself out,” Collena insisted. She was heading for the door before she turned back around to face him.

She probably hadn’t realized how close they were when she turned around. Mere inches apart.

Both of them stepped back.

“Please think about what I’ve said,” she added.

“Oh, I will.” In fact, he would think of little else.

“I’ll get my car and drive back to drop off the papers that prove Adam is my son. Or I can have someone bring them to you if you’d prefer.”

Dylan didn’t want anyone else involved in this just yet. He went to the closet and grabbed his coat and car keys. He wanted to see what kind of evidence she had so he could start looking for flaws in it. He didn’t know what he would do once he’d found them, but he wanted all the information about this situation and the woman who’d proposed marriage and then threatened to take Adam away from him.

“I’d also like my gun back,” Collena said.

“It’s in my pocket. You’ll get it back when you’re off my property.”

Figuring that he needed to go on the offensive, Dylan picked up his phone and pressed in some numbers. “Sorry to bother you on Thanksgiving,” he said to the man who answered. “But it’s an emergency. Call me the second you have any information on Collena Drake. And I have a DNA test kit that I need you to pick up ASAP and take to a lab.”