The Cowboy's Secret

A breeze caressed his face as he strode to the truck he’d rented.

What? What was he going to do next?

He didn’t know. He’d been wandering without direction for a long time. A night in Rendezvous, Wyoming, wasn’t going to cough up answers for him. He wished he knew what would.

“This visit isn’t going to change anything.” Gabby took Phoebe out of Eden’s arms and kissed the baby’s soft cheeks. Her giggles filled the small apartment Gabby called home. Eden Page was one of her best friends as well as Phoebe’s babysitter. Gabby usually picked up Phoebe from Eden’s, but today she’d asked her friend for a favor. “Thank you so much for bringing her over. I don’t have much time to get this place in shape. It was so weird having him show up like that. At first I thought he was the father. But he’s not. Sam died. He’s Sam’s stepbrother.”

“He died?” Eden’s expressive brown eyes oozed with compassion. “So Phoebe will never meet her daddy. That’s so sad.”

“I know. It is.”

“And this uncle wants to meet her, huh?” Eden set the diaper bag on the foyer floor. “That’s it?”

“Yes. At least that’s what he said.” She bit the right side of her bottom lip. “If he thinks I’m going to share custody with him, he’s fooling himself.”

“Did he say he wanted to?”

“No, but all the way home, I’ve been going through worst-case scenarios.”

“Remember what Babs always tells you. Don’t borrow trouble.” Eden scanned the living room and shrugged. “Your place looks good to me. I’ll give the kitchen a once-over if you’d like.”

“Would you? Oh, you are a lifesaver!” Gabby set Phoebe on the quilted mat in the living room and handed her a toy while Eden crossed over to the kitchen separated from the living room by a counter with bar stools. “How did the week go without having Noah around?”

“I miss him. He’s such a sweet little boy. But having all the one-on-one time with Phoebe is making up for it a little bit.”

Until last week, Eden had also been babysitting her nephew, Noah. But now that her brother-in-law, Mason, had gotten remarried, he and his new wife, Brittany, were splitting childcare duties and didn’t need Eden’s services anymore. Gabby envied Mason a tiny bit—he’d found someone to share his life with. Part of her wished she could have a relationship like theirs, too. But it wasn’t likely. She’d be the first to admit she had trust issues when it came to men.

“Not having Noah around must be a big change for you.” Gabby tossed a few toys into a basket.

“It is, and I hate change. But I can’t stop it.” Eden rinsed a mug. “By the way, I’m glad you invited this guy—Dylan, right?—over to meet the little sweetie. You wouldn’t want to deprive her of an uncle.”

“No, I couldn’t deprive her of an uncle.” A teeny part of her did want to deprive Phoebe of this particular one, though. If Dylan was anything like her own father or Carl, she wanted her niece as far from him as possible. At the moment, she didn’t see much difference between him and them, but she wasn’t being fair. She didn’t know him at all. “One thing’s for sure—we’re going to have a lot to talk about at this week’s meeting.”

“When don’t we?” Eden grinned.

Gabby, Eden, Mason and Nicole met every Tuesday at the inn for their support group. They’d all lost loved ones who’d been in the prime of their lives. Mason’s first wife, Mia, who was Eden’s older sister, had died of cancer six months after Noah was born. Gabby had lost Allison last year and Nicole’s husband died unexpectedly on Christmas Day due to complications from muscular dystrophy.

Eden glanced up. “How long did you say he’d be in town?”

“He didn’t say. I doubt long.” Keeping an eye on Phoebe, Gabby tidied the magazines on the end table. Dylan had drifter written all over him. If he’d been moving around for a year, doing who knew what after his father died…

It didn’t take much of a stretch of the imagination to figure out the guy didn’t have a job, didn’t have roots. Maybe he’d come into a small inheritance and rather than put it toward his future, he was running through it like a fool. Or he could be like her daddy, latching on to a new woman in each town to support him. Both scenarios spelled deadbeat. The muscles in her neck tightened.

“I’m fine with him meeting Phoebe, but I can tell you right now, I’m not going to have her influenced by some charming, shifty cowboy who will only let her down. If he wants to visit now and then, fine, but not unsupervised. And there will be rules.”

“Is he charming? What does he look like?” Eden closed the dishwasher door and returned to the living room. She knelt on the floor by Phoebe, who clapped her hands with glee. Gabby said a silent prayer of thanks she’d been blessed to have Eden caring for the baby while she worked. The woman was a gift from the good Lord.

“I don’t know. He’s…attractive.” She made the word sound as bad as an infectious skin disease. Attractive wasn’t a good trait on this guy. “The way Stella was flirting, you’d think she’d have accepted a marriage proposal from him on the spot.”

“Stella flirts with every guy under forty.”

“True.” Gabby hustled down the hall, stowed a laundry basket in her bedroom and loped back. “Here, I can take her.”

“Why don’t you change quick?” Eden said. “You’ll feel better in your jeans.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind? You know I could eat this little dumpling up.” Eden scrunched her nose at Phoebe and tickled her tummy. Throaty baby laughter filled the air.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She raced to her room and donned her best jeans and a blouse patterned in various shades of red. With a quick brush of her hair and a swipe of tinted lip gloss, she was ready to face whatever came her way. She returned to the living room, and Eden handed her the baby. The air filled with her little gurgles.

“I can tell you’re worried about this situation,” Eden said. “But there’s no reason to get worked up. He’s not the father. And you are her legal guardian. You call the shots.”

“You’re right.” She shifted Phoebe to her hip. “I guess I’ve been scared for a long time, always worrying Sam would show up one day and take her from me.” She considered herself a rational person. She wasn’t gullible—not anymore, anyway—and she tried to do the right thing. Why was she so agitated?

Something about him reminds me of Daddy. Of Carl. And I don’t allow men like them in my life anymore.

“He’s not the enemy.” Eden frowned. “Unless… Did you get a weird vibe from him? Do you think he might be shady? Dangerous? We should call my dad to come over and supervise. No one would dare mess with you with Dad scowling at him.”

“No, he seemed fine.” She let out a little chuckle. “I don’t need a chaperone. I can take care of myself.” And she could. She’d taken care of herself and Allison all through their teen years and beyond. And now it was her privilege to take care of Phoebe.

“Well, try not to worry, then.” Eden hugged her. “You’re the most welcoming person I know. You’ll get off on the right foot with him for Phoebe’s sake. I know you.”

“Thanks, Eden.”

“If you’re sure you don’t want me around, I guess I’ll take off. Call me the instant he leaves.”

“I will.” She held Phoebe tightly. “Thanks again.”

After seeing Eden to the door, she took the baby to the couch and selected a children’s book from the basket below the end table. For now, she’d try to keep things as normal as possible. And that meant concentrating on Phoebe and not worrying about Dylan.

He’d meet the baby and leave.

Life wouldn’t change.

If she kept telling herself that, maybe it wouldn’t.

Hopefully, this uncle would breeze out of their lives as suddenly as he’d breezed in.

She’d just have to keep a level head until he did.

Chapter Two

In and out. Nice and easy. Dylan stared at the 3B on the door inside the apartment building. All he had to do was observe Gabrielle interacting with his niece for a while. He’d know the baby was in good hands, and his gut was telling him Gabrielle wasn’t like his mother or his ex. For his niece’s sake, he hoped she wasn’t. Worst-case scenario? He’d stay in Rendezvous through the weekend to make sure.

After two sharp knocks the door opened, and he straightened, raising himself up to full height. The woman before him had shed her no-nonsense manager outfit to wear formfitting jeans and a colorful shirt, revealing toned arms. She looked younger, less closed off than she had at the inn. Her hair still fell loose around her shoulders. He wanted to touch it.

Touch her hair? If he’d been worried about chemistry before, he needed to up his composure tenfold.

At the sight of the baby on her hip, his heart hiccupped. Seeing the child in the flesh was a precious gift—a piece of Sam lived in the bouncing baby girl. With dark curls grazing her neck, rosy cheeks and huge dark blue eyes, she looked as healthy and happy as a child could be. She stuck out her tongue and blew bubbles at him.

“Come in. I hope you found my place okay.” Gabrielle held the door open, and he took off his hat as he entered. The apartment itself was beige, on the small side and could use some TLC. The red living room furniture added color to the mix, and the dining table held a vase full of daisies. It was welcoming, he’d give her that. She led him to the living room. “Have a seat.”

He lowered his frame onto the couch, not sure what to do.

“This is Phoebe Ann Stover.” She smiled at the child with so much tenderness, he almost looked away. He’d never been the recipient of that level of affection. What would it be like to have someone adore him? “She’s nine months old, sleeps through the night, loves sweet potatoes and scrambled eggs, but then again, she’ll eat anything I put in front of her. She’s a happy baby. Sweet as can be.”

Sleeping through the night was good, right? Were babies supposed to eat eggs and sweet potatoes? He knew nothing about children. He peered at Phoebe, who held her arms out to him, opening and closing her chubby hands. He hadn’t held a baby before. Gabrielle wouldn’t expect him to pick her up, would she?

“Want to hold her?” Gabrielle’s expression held no malice, but he could see she had questions she wasn’t asking. That made two of them.

“Umm…”

The baby lunged for him, and Gabrielle laughed. “Well, it looks like you don’t have a choice.”

Before he knew it, the bundle of energy was in his hands. He held her an arm’s length away, then eased her closer until her little bare feet rested on his thighs. Soon she was bouncing, her giggles filling the air. She was strong. Watching her push her little legs up and down with so much gusto made him chuckle. Instinctively, he drew her closer. She pressed her palms against his cheeks, and he pretended to blow out a mouthful of air. She laughed. How could such an itty-bitty thing produce such a hearty sound? Someday he’d have to break it to her he wasn’t a great comedian.

Someday? It implied an ongoing relationship, and he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“I think it’s safe to say she likes her uncle Dylan.” Gabrielle wore a wistful expression. “Do you want something to drink?”

Uncle Dylan. He liked the sound of it.

“No, thanks.” He made a silly face, and Phoebe laughed harder. She had Sam’s eyes. Everything else must have come from her mother. Had Sam even known he was about to have a baby? If his brother could have seen the little girl, he might have had a reason to say no to drugs.

Dylan handed Phoebe back to Gabrielle. She tucked the child on her lap. The baby squirmed, but Gabrielle kept a firm grip on her, distracting her with a pastel bunny that rattled when shaken.

“Would you mind telling me more about her father?” She licked her lips nervously. “I don’t have much to go on at this point. When she’s older, she’ll want to know about him. All Allison said was she saw him playing guitar with a rock band at a bar in Austin. They both had too much to drink, and a month later, she realized she was pregnant.”

He winced. Hearing Sam summed up like that didn’t do his brother justice. What could he tell her to give an accurate picture of the funny, sensitive kid he’d known and loved?

“Sam was a great guy. He loved music and practiced guitar constantly. School wasn’t his strong suit. He opted not to go to college so he and his band could try to get noticed. He worked hard at it. Moved to Austin after high school and played with anyone who would let him. Music meant a lot to him.”

He wasn’t going to bring up Sam’s drug use. He still struggled to make sense of how his talented brother could have thrown away his life on that junk. If he would have checked on Sam more often, maybe he would have noticed the signs.

“How old was he?” she asked.

“Twenty-one.”

“The same age Allison was. Do you have a picture?”

He nodded and took out his phone. He scrolled through until he found one from two Christmases ago. At the sight of Sam’s smiling face, his chest tightened uncomfortably. The hardest part of the past year was knowing he couldn’t talk to or see his brother. One minute they were celebrating Christmas together, the next he was gone.

“What about your sister?” he asked. “What was she like?”

Her face lit up. “She was special. An absolute sweetheart. She, too, skipped college, and worked at the reception desk of a dental practice here in town. I don’t want you to think she went around sleeping with guys all the time. It wasn’t her personality at all. She…well, I think she must have felt stifled after high school. The nine-to-five grind and living in a small town got to her. A few of her girlfriends decided to fly down to Texas for a weekend, and that’s when she met your brother.”

The baby let out a sound he could only describe as the hoot of an owl. He met Gabrielle’s eyes. They both started laughing.

“Well, I guess that lightened the moment.” She hugged Phoebe and kissed the top of her head. “So, Dylan, I don’t mean to be blunt, but what exactly do you want? You came a long way. What are your intentions with Phoebe?”

How to answer? He didn’t know. He’d assumed he’d check on his niece, make sure she was being raised with love, do what he could to provide for the girl’s future and move on as if he’d never met them. He hadn’t even considered being part of her life—in any capacity—until tonight.

Seeing the baby with Sam’s eyes altered his view, though. What else did his niece inherit from his brother? His musical talent? His sense of humor? Dylan wanted to find out.

“Gabrielle—”

“Call me Gabby.”

“Okay, Gabby.” Actually, in her home environment she seemed more like a Gabby than a Gabrielle. He shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know what I want.”

“I’ve raised Phoebe since the second she came home from the hospital. She’s like my own child. I’m her legal guardian…”

He inwardly cringed. He hadn’t realized she thought he might want to fight for custody or visitation rights or something. In fact, he hadn’t considered how his showing up would affect Gabby at all.

You’ve been wrapped up in your own world for too long.

“I’m not here to claim any rights—I know nothing about raising babies.” He held up his hands, palms out. “I just wanted to meet her.”

But it wasn’t true—not the last part at least. He’d also wanted to check out her living situation and financially support her.

“Well, you met her.”

He scanned the room. Tidy. Neat. Although nothing like the luxurious home he grew up in or the high-end condo he owned in Dallas, this apartment felt warm and inviting. The baby seemed to be in good care. He could leave with a clear conscience.

But he didn’t want to.

“I loved Sam. Miss him. This is his child. I want to be part of her life.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, his stomach clenched. It was the first commitment he’d made in a long time. Was he up to being part of his niece’s life? He quickly added, “You know, visit her at times and send her birthday presents and stuff.”

“I see.” The muscle in her cheek flexed. “What you’re asking for is fair. But I need to know more about you. I have to know you’ll be a good influence on her.”

He frowned. She didn’t think he’d be a good influence on his own niece? She’d deduced this from the short time they’d been together? He wasn’t sure what to think about that. Most people fell all over themselves sucking up to him and trying to win his favor.

But that was because they knew he was rich.

And Gabby didn’t.

What would she do if he told her how much he was worth? Would she manipulate him to get her hands on some of the money? His own mother had done it many times. His ex, Robin, had tried, too.

On the other hand, if she didn’t know his background, would she find him worthy of being in Phoebe’s life?

Was he worthy? He ran his finger under his collar.

He’d been having an identity crisis for a year. When had he lost his confidence?

When Dad sold the company without even considering letting me run it.

“I’m starving. Why don’t I order a pizza and we can discuss this further?” Gabby rose, lifting Phoebe high in the air. Her little legs kicked as she laughed.

Pizza sounded good. After a year of gourmet meals, high-end hotels and surface conversations, talking to Gabby sounded even better. Normal, even.

How long had it been since he’d been treated like any other guy?

Not in grade school. Certainly not running around with other rich kids at prep school. College—nope—still hanging out with wealthy peers. The four years he’d worked in upper management at King Energy had ensured his days were spent in board meetings, on the golf course or reviewing the performance of the managers below him.

His old world no longer existed. For once he wanted to be an average Joe. But he’d have to be careful not to let Gabby guess his true background. He wouldn’t outright lie to her, but he’d be stingy with details.

The trust fund, the child support could wait. Just until he knew her better. Then he’d tell her the truth.

Why had she invited him to stay for pizza? Gabby paid the delivery guy and carried the steaming box to the kitchen counter. Her stupid heart had softened when he’d talked about his brother. It hadn’t been an act, either. Sam’s death had broken something inside him—just as Allison’s death had done to her. Her pity had kicked in, and she’d invited him to stay without thinking it through.

What had Eden said earlier? She was the most welcoming person she knew. Gabby scoffed. Not a good trait in this situation. She really had to put a clamp on her invitation-prone mouth.

“Let me help with that.” Dylan held out a twenty-dollar bill.

“No, thanks. I’ve got it.” She shook her head. “I was ordering one tonight no matter what.”

“Really, I want to—”

“No, you’re my guest.” She held out her hand. “I’ll grab a few plates.”

At least he’d offered to pay. But then, Carl had at first, too.

She might as well figure out Dylan’s work situation while she had him here. Phoebe was playing with the toys attached to the tray of the jumper seat near the couch, so Gabby pulled out a stack of paper plates and napkins from the cupboard. After grabbing slices of pizza, they returned to the living room. She sat on the couch, and he took a chair. Even several feet away, his presence filled the room. He seemed bigger, stronger—more appealing in general—here in her apartment than he had at the inn. And he’d been something special there.

This wasn’t a good turn of events. She’d already known she was attracted to him, so encouraging more interaction with him wasn’t smart.

She bit into her slice, oozing with mozzarella and pepperoni. Maybe he wasn’t slathering on the charm like Carl had, but she knew next to nothing about this strapping cowboy. He could be buttering her up for his own purposes. She needed to find out more about him.

“What do you do for a living, Dylan?”

He finished chewing. “I’m not employed at the moment.”

Bingo. Unemployed. She’d pegged him as a no-good cowboy the instant she’d seen him, and she always trusted her instincts.

“What kind of work did you do in the past?” She tried not to appear too eager for his answer. What had he said he’d been doing for the past year? Something about this and that. Hardly reassuring. He probably went from job to job when he got bored or restless.

“I guess you could say I work for hire.”

The cheese stuck in her throat. Just like Daddy. Just like Carl. They’d both traveled as cowboys for hire. Her father also occasionally had taken trucking gigs. Knowing Dylan was like the two men who’d let her down put her in a pickle. She had firm rules about cowboys—specifically about not dating them. But how did the rules apply to a relative of Phoebe?

“Is that what you’ve been doing since your father and Sam died? You mentioned being on the road for the past year.”

“Sort of.” He took a sip of soda. “I took time off. Needed to work through some stuff.”

How was he paying his bills if he’d been taking time off and traveling? If he was like Daddy, he was probably skimming money from a girlfriend or two. She liked her other idea better—that he was blowing through a small inheritance. But then, she couldn’t assume he’d inherited anything. His mom might still be alive.

“Did your mother take your father’s death hard?”

He choked and thumped his chest a few times. “Sorry. No, I doubt she’s given him a second thought.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she quickly closed it.

“They divorced when I was a toddler. No love lost there.”

“Did he remarry? And Sam came into your life through the new wife?”

“Dad never remarried. I’m his only child. Sam came into the picture with Mom’s third husband.”

So his mother had married Sam’s father. Made sense. Didn’t answer her question of how Dylan was supporting himself, though.

“It’s awfully hard to take so much time off when you have bills to pay.” She tried not to sound judgmental. But seriously, if he was taking time off and wandering around, how was he dealing with his responsibilities? Every adult had those.

His eyes sharpened and narrowed, but he didn’t say a word.

“How have you been supporting yourself?” She didn’t care if it was forward. She needed to know—for Phoebe’s sake. For her own. And she’d see right through him if he lied to her. She’d gotten good at sifting fact from fiction.

“I don’t need much.”

Hmm…he wanted to play the ambiguous answer game, did he? She wasn’t born yesterday.

“That’s a nice truck you drove to the inn earlier.”

“It’s a rental.” His eyes were unreadable. Warning flags waved in her brain. This back and forth reminded her of Carl, but back then she’d been a naive teenager. She’d wanted to accept every lie he told her. She’d believed the best in him. And she shouldn’t have.

Most welcoming person or not, she wasn’t putting up with any games Dylan wanted to play. Phoebe was too important. Her niece would not grow up being jerked around by some unreliable guy pretending to be something he wasn’t. She should know. Until she was eleven years old, she’d thought her father was the greatest man alive. But cold hard facts had shattered her notions about him.

“Look, I know we just met.” She set the plate on the end table and locked eyes with his. “In any other circumstances, it would be insulting for me to ask you what I’m about to ask. But this is my niece, and I can’t let her be around someone who isn’t reliable. Where are you getting your money to live on?”