The Coltons of Mustang Valley

“I know my way around. I’ve met Dulcie, too.”

“Oh. Right.” He wasn’t thinking clearly.

“Don’t worry about me. I can find something to occupy my time.” Jace pulled his phone from his pocket. “Maybe I’ll even catch up with my friends back home. They probably think I’ve vanished by now.”

“Probably. Okay. Thanks.”

Asher started toward the house.

“And Asher?”

He looked back once more.

“Whatever it is? I’m sure it will be okay.”

He nodded, unable to trust his voice. Though he could have told their guest where he was going and why, he wasn’t ready to share it. Even if Jace might have understood the trauma of a switched-at-birth situation better than anyone. And even if they could have carpooled to Mustang Valley General since Jace was headed to the same lab. Heck, with Dad still there, they should have applied for a Colton bulk discount on their medical bills.

Asher continued up the path past the rows of white barns and outbuildings. He had to force himself not to run to the house and his own wing on the third floor, where Harper would be just waking up from her morning nap. Once inside his living quarters, he sprinted all the way to the nursery, unbuttoning his sweaty plaid shirt as he went. He would grab something clean on his way out the door.

In her room, Harper was already sitting up in her crib and making cute sounds for the video monitor that Dulcie watched from the kitchen. Wisps of the baby’s barely there hair stood up, punk-rocker style.

“Where’s my Harper girl?”

She squealed, her wide, toothless grin stretching even farther.

His possible big brother had said everything would be all right. But Jace couldn’t promise that. Just like no one could guarantee that Payne Colton would awaken from his coma and demand an accounting of the first-quarter books at Colton Oil. Depending on the outcome of today’s DNA test, Asher’s life and that of his sweet baby girl might never be okay again.

Chapter 2

Willow Merrill startled at the sound of the blaring horn while driving her mini SUV past one of the few stoplights along Mustang Boulevard, also called “Mustang Valley Boulevard” on some old maps. Okay, that light had been pink. Well, more fuchsia.

“Sorry.”

She waved at the other driver, who scowled back at her through the open window. At least it hadn’t been one of her day-care clients. She needed to calm down and pay attention to her driving if she wanted them to arrive at the hospital without heading straight to the ER.

At least she didn’t have to worry that the honk had frightened her six-month-old baby. Luna’s squeals coming from the rear-facing infant car seat in the back told Willow her daughter was just fine.

“What are you laughing about back there?”

The baby cackled as she did at all her mother’s jokes. Great. Her kid was going to be a thrill seeker, a luxury Willow had never known.

Her kid. Willow swallowed. How had she forgotten, even for a few seconds, why they were headed to the hospital in the first place? This couldn’t be happening. The woman on the phone had to be wrong. One more thing in a week that had started out bad and had gone downhill from there. Her gaze flicked to the notebook in the passenger seat. She’d written all the details from the call on it before giving her own instructions to her staff and racing out with Luna in her arms.

There had to be a mistake. How could there be a chance that precious Luna wasn’t her child? The infant’s tawny skin was as dark as hers, and the child’s capful of brown hair had already begun to curl. If only basic resemblance could guarantee that they were mother and daughter. Nearly a third of Arizona’s population was of Latino heritage like her, so babies with Luna’s hair and skin coloring were hardly rare in Mustang Valley.

An ache formed in Willow’s chest, squeezing and twisting. Heat gathered behind her eyes. No, she wouldn’t cry. Luna needed her to be strong. She needed her mother. And nothing could convince her that Luna wasn’t the baby she’d once cradled inside her own body and had met at her first breath. She’d promised this child a life filled with the type of security Willow had only dreamed of. Could she have made that vow to the wrong infant?

Managing to avoid more near misses on her trip along the town’s main drag, she pulled into the hospital campus and parked at the five-story building’s main entrance.

She buckled Luna in the stroller the child loathed and rolled it through the automatic doors. Following the signs, she headed down a long corridor and stopped in front of the administrative offices.

A woman in a light pink pantsuit pounced on her the moment she pushed Luna inside.

“You must be Mrs. Merrill.” The woman pumped Willow’s hand, a flush climbing her own pale neck, her blond bob bouncing. “I’m Anne Sewall, but please call me Anne. I appreciate your coming over so quickly.”

“It’s Willow. And thanks for giving me the information over the phone.”

The older woman’s glasses shifted as she wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t have a choice, since the other party had insisted that I release the details that way.”

Other party. That was the only descriptor Willow had for someone who might be about to steal away her child. She wasn’t ready to wrap her thoughts around the possibility that another mother might be raising an infant biologically connected to her.

“Will your husband be joining us this morning?”

Willow shook her head. “No. He was my ex-husband. I mean, well, both he and his new wife are deceased.”

The last development was recent enough that this was the first time Willow had been forced to explain it to anyone beyond close friends. The part about Xavier leaving her for another woman, though, was well-traveled history.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Merrill.”

“Thank you.” She would have preferred to say, “don’t be,” but she couldn’t tell a stranger that.

Anne wrung her hands and then crouched in front of the stroller where Luna was already fussing and wiggling against the harness safety restraint.

“You must be Miss Luna Mariana Merrill. You’re a beauty.”

The baby scrunched her face, so to avoid what would surely be a good wail, Willow unsnapped the buckle and lifted the child into her arms.

“She takes compliments better once she’s out of that contraption.”

The administrator struggled to her feet and pointed to a place next to the wall. “Why don’t you park the stroller right there and take a seat inside my office? I’m sure the others will arrive shortly.”

An image of a happily married couple and child, a family worthy of a Thomas Kinkade painting, invaded Willow’s thoughts as she pulled the diaper bag from the stroller handle. Would a judge see that intact family unit as a better choice for both babies if this awful premise turned out to be fact? She shook her head to push away the thought, but nothing could calm her insides.

Just as she stepped inside Anne’s office, a beep signaled that the reception-area door had been opened.

Anne held up her index finger. “I’ll be right back.”

From somewhere outside the room, the administrator’s muffled voice melded with a baritone one. Willow dragged one of the visitors’ chairs as far as she could from the other, sat and settled Luna on her lap.

Needing something to do with her hands, she straightened her baby’s mint-green top and smoothed her fingers over the striped leggings. Then she gripped one of the open sides of her chambray shirt that she’d thrown on over her clothes and tried to cover her bare legs. If only she’d had time to change out of her work clothes.

“We’ll be fine, sweetie. Just fine.” She only hoped what she’d told her daughter was true.

She straightened as heavy footfalls grew closer to the office.

“Right in here.”

Anne’s voice preceded her into the room. A man followed her inside, carrying an infant whose photo could have been given as Luna’s direct opposite. The baby had ivory skin and light brown hair, and she was dressed in a fancy floral sundress and matching headband.

She didn’t resemble Willow, either, if having brown eyes didn’t count. Though the babies were supposed to be the same age, this one appeared smaller than Luna, but that might have had to do with the man carrying her. The one who crowded the doorway with those broad shoulders and muscular arms, emphasized by his fitted black T-shirt.

Anne gestured toward the guest chair and then crossed behind her desk and sat.

“Come in and have a seat so that we can begin.”

The man didn’t budge, though, as his light green eyes focused on Willow. Something about him struck her as familiar, but then he looked like a cowboy, and ranch hands were almost as common as cattle in the area. He had tousled brown hair, long on top and trimmed close at his neck. His bronzed skin was probably the result of too much outdoor labor and not enough sunscreen rather than any genetic bent. Those thigh-hugging jeans and the boots that had missed a shine or a dozen didn’t fit, either.

Well, the jeans did.

At the sound of someone clearing her throat, Willow blinked several times, her neck and cheeks burning. What was she doing? Had she been staring at the guy who might have come there to take her child? Sure, he’d been looking back, but probably only at Luna, as he searched for any resemblance to signal that she was his. Well, she wasn’t. Willow’s arms immediately tightened around her baby, who squirmed and whined.

Anne gestured to them. “Willow Merrill, I’d like you to meet—”

The cowboy took one step inside the room and waved to interrupt her. “Please, allow me. I’m Asher. This is Harper.”

Though his expression had been stoic until then, it transformed, twin dimples and all, the moment he pressed his cheek to the top of his child’s head. Something Willow chose not to define squeezed inside her chest. She and this Asher weren’t on the same side in this situation, and she needed to remember that.

“And that young lady is Luna.”

As Anne completed the introductions, she shifted in her seat and gestured toward the guest chair again. This time Asher sidled over and settled with Harper on his knee. The infants peeked at each other, taking turns hiding their faces.

“Pleased to meet you, Luna.” Asher cleared his throat. “And Willow.”

“You, too,” she said, though she was anything but pleased. He probably thought he was being cute by speaking to her daughter first. She wasn’t impressed.

Anne folded her hands together and nodded at Willow.

“I’m so glad you were able to get away from the day-care center to come in this morning. Tender Years, right?” She waited for Willow’s nod before turning to Asher. “And I know how busy you must be on the ranch at this time of year, so I appreciate your both coming in so quickly.”

He nodded, shoving his hand back through his hair in what was probably a habit. Neither stated the obvious that they’d had no choice but to accept that invitation.

“I thought it would be easier to share the information on the possible switch with all of you at the same time, but you both must agree to discussing these matters publicly, in accordance with HIPAA medical information laws.”

“Fine by me,” Asher said.

“Me, too.” She was still hanging on the words possible switch. That still meant it might not be true.

Anne glanced over at the open door. “You didn’t say, Asher. Will Harper’s mother be joining us?”

Her mother? His wife? Willow shot a glance at the empty doorway. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she’d been checking out the guy who should have been her adversary, she’d never considered that there would be a she.

“Long gone,” he blurted and then cleared his throat. “I mean, my former partner is deceased.”

Those two things didn’t mean close to the same thing, but that was none of her business. Even if she couldn’t get over how coincidental it was that both babies had already lost a parent at such a tender age, she couldn’t worry about that just then.

Willow cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Please accept my condolences,” Anne said.

Asher nodded, his gaze sliding to Willow. “Luna’s dad?”

“Same.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

He didn’t remark on the fact that they’d both experienced a loss, so she didn’t bring it up, either. Since there was more to her story than she’d revealed, she figured he’d skipped a few chapters, as well.

Her daughter saved her from having to say more by wiggling in her lap and starting to fuss. Unlike the infant Asher held, Luna wasn’t a fan of sitting still and watching grown-ups talk. Willow hoped the pacifier from her bag would at least comfort her for a while.

Anne planted her elbows on her desk and clasped her hands together, drawing their attention back to her.

“Okay, here’s why I called you in today. We’ve received an anonymous call from the concerned friend of a hospital volunteer. That volunteer was worried that she accidentally switched two newborn female infants on November 2. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, but she was too afraid to speak up. Her friend reported it instead.”

“Did you say ‘anonymous’?” Willow blurted. Could it have been related to an unsigned letter she’d received the week before at the day-care center?

“How could that have happened?”

Willow blinked as the man seated next to her posed the question she should have been asking. That threatening note back at the office probably had nothing to do with this matter, and it certainly wasn’t as critical.

“And why was a volunteer even in there?” she asked. “Why would someone not even on staff have the opportunity to make a mistake like that?”

Anne opened her mouth to answer, but Asher didn’t give her the chance.

“Doesn’t this hospital have safeguards to prevent that? At least by now?”

His last comment made no sense to Willow, but she nodded anyway.

She pointed to her bare wrist. “Yeah, those bracelets that the nurse assistant checks every time she rolls a bassinet into a patient’s room should have prevented something like this.”

Anne cleared her throat, her gaze sliding to Asher before she addressed them both. “No, volunteers shouldn’t have been involved in those critical moments. And, yes, there were safeguards in place. But there were extenuating circumstances on that November day when both of your infants were born.”

“What were those?”

Asher’s voice was tight, as if he was trying to control his frustration.

“First, we were understaffed that night. Flu season hit early. Second, it was a full moon, so all the birthing rooms were occupied.”

Willow leaned forward, startling her daughter, who’d just nodded off. “You’re going to blame this on a ‘full moon’? Isn’t that an old wives’ tale anyway?”

“Ask any labor and delivery nurse, and he or she will tell you it’s not.” Anne smiled and then shook her head. “But, no, I’m not going to blame the situation on anything. I just wanted you to know how something like this could have happened this time.”

Willow nodded and gestured with a circular motion for her to continue.

“There were five infants born on that night shift, all between 2100 and 0000. That’s between nine and midnight. The nurses, volunteers and even the on-call obstetrician were quickly moving back and forth among the rooms.”

Asher straightened and shifted his contented infant higher on his thigh. “If there were five babies, why are we the only ones sitting here?”

Anne held her hands wide. “The caller said the possible switch was between two female infants. The other three born that night were males.”

Willow blinked several times, a memory popping into her thoughts. “It’s also because Luna went into distress and had to be delivered with forceps, isn’t it? She was rushed from the room right after delivery to be examined.”

“Harper had the cord around her neck,” Asher said. “So, same situation. Rushed from the birthing room. It’s still no excuse. Never was.”

“You’re right,” Anne said. “But at least we can see how a volunteer could have been called into service and how a rushed mistake could have been made when snapping on the bracelets, right?”

Willow shrugged, and Asher did the same.

When neither spoke, Anne continued with her explanation.

“We’re going to clear up these questions quickly. We’ll be conducting legally admissible maternity and paternity DNA tests, free of charge. The tests will compare twenty of your genetic markers to those of both infants and determine the probability that either of you could be a parent of either child.”

The woman’s words sounded more like a lecture in Willow’s college biology class than any real-life situation involving her and Luna.

“Why do the tests need to be legally admissible?” Willow asked, but she had already come up with her own answer before Anne lowered her head and stared at her hands. If the hospital had made the mistake, the board would expect a lawsuit. They would be getting one.

Asher’s arms tightened around his daughter, finally causing her to squirm. Willow leaned forward and studied the infant. Harper didn’t look like her. She also appeared to have a calm nature. No one would ever have described Willow that way. She was intense and always moving, more like Luna.

“This is crazy!” Asher popped to his feet, startling Harper, who whimpered. “This is my child. You might think there’s been a switch, but you’re wrong.”

Anne stood and stepped around the end of her desk. “Please take a seat, Mr. Colton. We will figure this—”

“You’re a Colton?”

Willow leaped up as well, and Luna let out a wail, her pacifier dropping. Willow was surprised that she managed to catch it. After all, the administrator had just invoked the name of the family she hated most in the world.

She bounced and swayed to calm her child before speaking again in a lower voice. “You’re Asher... Colton?”

“Yeah. So? I already introduced myself.”

“Not quite,” Anne noted. “You didn’t say your last name.”

No wonder he’d looked familiar to Willow earlier. She’d probably seen him before, holding court with the rest of his family, considered Mustang Valley’s royalty. Maybe spinning around town in one of their luxury cars.

“Please sit. You’re upsetting your daughters.”

They’d been staring warily at each other, but at Anne’s words they glanced at their own children and lowered into their seats again.

Willow’s gaze lifted to Asher again. From his innocent expression, she would have thought he’d never received a look of loathing in his life. Given his last name, she doubted that.

“So, yes, I’m a Colton, if that matters. It didn’t save me from having to be involved in a mess like this again, did it?”

Willow stared back at him. If that matters? Hell yes, it did. Then something else he’d said struck her. Again. Mustang Valley was a small town. Even before it had hit the news, she’d heard about his family’s infant-switch scandal. That didn’t mean she had to pity them.

The Coltons might have once been able to take everything from her mother, but she wouldn’t allow their Richie Rich spawn to take her only child. Even if he was Luna’s biological father.

She sneaked another peek at the infant in Asher’s lap. If Luna could be his, Harper could be hers. Could she bear living in the same town as the child she’d carried for nine months without having the chance to know or love her? On the other hand, could she give up the baby she’d nursed, diapered and loved for six months?

“I can’t do this,” she said.

“Well, then, let’s get this over with.”

Asher’s words crushed hers, contradicting them in both loyalty and intent.

Didn’t it matter to him which infant he took home? Was his daughter as interchangeable as one of the cows on the Triple R?

“We can go to the lab right now,” he continued.

Anne gripped her hands together. “Unfortunately, we can’t do the test today.”

“But you asked us to bring our children in immediately.”

Asher’s voice lifted an octave, but, somehow, he remained in his seat this time.

“Yes, I said that, but when I called the lab, I discovered that they were booked all day. I scheduled you both for ten tomorrow morning.”

Willow drew her brows together. “How can that be possible? This is a hospital.”

“All emergency lab work will be handled immediately,” Anne said. “But elective lab work requires an appointment.”

“You don’t call possibly switched infants an emergency?” Why was Willow making Asher’s argument for him? She wasn’t in a rush to find out answers that could crush them, but she couldn’t help herself. “Or maybe a potential lawsuit?”

Asher tilted his head, studying the administrator.

“Is that a usual practice in the lab, or were those new rules announced today?”

At his odd question, Willow peeked over at him again. She was reminded again of headlines like “Colton Oil CEO Ousted” and “Colton Patriarch Shot: Son Questioned,” in the weekly Mustang Valley Times and on the local news.

“Let me guess. Some other testing is taking priority over two six-month-olds.”

Anne straightened. “I don’t have any details regarding the backup at the lab, and, even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to discuss them because of privacy laws.”

The administrator didn’t make eye contact with Willow, but she peeked at Asher before she lowered her gaze to her hands. That tell was the only confirmation Willow needed.

Why didn’t someone just say that it had to do with the Coltons? Something bigger than even a possible mix-up of Payne Colton’s grandchild. Since the family company had paid for updates to make the hospital a state-of-the-art facility fifteen years before, they probably thought of it as one of their properties, just like they ran Colton Oil. Just like they owned Mustang Valley itself.

“Fine. Tomorrow at ten.” Asher gathered his daughter and marched out of the office.

“Fine,” Willow echoed, before collecting her diaper bag, propping Luna on her hip and stomping out after him.

He was probably just angry that the news and the delay had disrupted his schedule and his charmed life. She had more to be upset about than he did. As if it wasn’t bad enough dealing with the awful possibility that Luna might not be hers and trying to explain her inappropriate reaction to a man who’d turned out to be a Colton, now she would be forced to face him again the next day.

So, it continued. Everything bad in her life started out with the Coltons and only went downhill from there.

Chapter 3

“I didn’t think you’d ever call,” the woman whined into the phone the moment she answered.

His sigh came through the line, just as she caught sight of her profile in the mirror. Neck skin taut. Face flawless, she decided, as she brushed her fingertips along her own jawline. Still beautiful. She’d deserved better than she’d been given.

“Are you listening to me?”

“What? Oh. What did you say?”

“I said I told you I would call as soon as it was done. And I did.”

“Yes, you did.” She pushed her shoulders back and faced the mirror straight on. The last thing she needed was for there to be frustration in the ranks. Not when she was so close to getting the revenge that she’d craved so deeply it felt embedded in her soul.

“You always keep your promises...for us. And I appreciate each one.”

He harrumphed. “That’s better.”

The man filled her in on the newest development that had required creativity outside her specific instructions. She wouldn’t stomp on the guy’s ideas when he was helping her to get what she wanted.

“Why does it matter?” he asked in the cajoling tone that had long since begun to annoy her.