Hart's Baby

Zach’s jaw tightened. “Jeanie?” he asked unnecessarily.

Cassandra moved to stand near him, and he noticed the sheen of tears clouding her eyes. “Yes.”

“Except for the eyes, you don’t look alike.” He wondered if the difference extended to morals, as well.

He flipped the picture, found another beneath. Jeanie and Chad were out to dinner this time, a carafe of wine on the table, a long-neck bottle of beer in front of Chad—his favorite brand. This time their faces were close together and so were their lips.

He was aware of Cassandra’s perfume and another, more subtle scent—her anxiety.

“You’re not going to like everything in there,” she told him in a whisper, repeating the words he’d already told himself. Then she added, “I didn’t.”

He knew Chad wasn’t perfect. Hell, thankfully none of the Hart brothers had that heavy burden to bear. But they did know their obligations.

He skimmed the first report. Pertinent details leaped out, details that incriminated Chad.

Chad had been dating Jeanie. She’d been seen leaving his hotel room, a seedy little place off the highway in Montana, at seven o’clock in the morning. Chad’s team-roping partner called Chad’s room one night and the phone had been answered by a sleepy-sounding Jeanie.

“Well?”

Zach’s hope that Chad, and the Harts, would be completely cleared had vanished. Zach felt backed into a corner.

He despised corners.

Still, there was no proof. Circumstantial evidence didn’t hold much weight. And he clung to that.

Zach looked at Cassandra, his nostrils pinched. She appeared so expectant, so damn hopeful, it stuck in his craw. Everything and everyone seemed to recede, except them and their problem. “This report proves nothing.”

“Proves—” her hands fisted “—nothing?”

“Chad may have had some involvement with your sister, but apparently he wasn’t the only man she showed an interest in.”

Cassandra’s eyes lost some of their spark, and he hated himself for being the one to extinguish it. Still, if she caused any pain to his mother, he’d hate himself even worse. He wouldn’t back down, would do what he had to do. “The report states she was a rodeo groupie, that—”

“I’m well aware of every word in there.”

“In that case...” Zach saw his checkbook where he’d left it on the table, already open and waiting.

“You’re disturbing the baby,” Margaret reprimanded. “Go into your office, Zachary. I’ll baby-sit.”

The tone of his mother’s voice brooked no argument. With a tight nod, he said, “My office, Ms. Morrison.”

“But...”

“Young William will be all right with his granny,” Margaret assured Cassie.

Zach’s hold on his temper frayed at the edges. “My office. Now.”

“Maybe we can just—”

“Now.”

“Go on,” Margaret said. “His bark is worse than his bite. He’s harmless.” Looking at her son, she warned, “Zachary, behave yourself, young man.”

He held open the door for Cassandra, indicating she should leave the room. He led the way through the entryway and down the hall and she followed, her reluctance seeming to disappear as they drew closer to his office. When she brushed by him, her shoulders were squared in confrontation and not a single ounce of capitulation.

His pulse quickened. He looked forward to the challenge... and especially the triumph.

Two

“Have a seat,” Zach said, sliding into the leather chair behind his desk.

Fear and frustration warred within Cassie. This was his office, his territory, and she was the interloper. Control and power hung in the air, as if the walls bore his stamp of authority.

Was it too late to change her mind, say she didn’t want a private conversation in a room so vividly marked by his masculinity?

A few pictures dominated the walls, mostly of racehorses he’d raised. Several framed photos sat on his desk, the backs toward her. She’d learned that pictures revealed a lot about their owners. What story did Zach’s tell? That he cherished his family, a girlfriend, or a wife?

She hadn’t noticed a ring on his hand, but having grown up in a rural community, the absence didn’t seem remarkable. A lot of men refused to wear rings in case they got caught in farm equipment.

“Ms. Morrison?” he prompted.

Cassie slipped into the chair, then realized it hadn’t been designed for comfort. The leather depths swallowed her whole. Sitting there in front of him, she felt small and defenseless, just the way, she imagined, he wanted her to feel.

But she wasn’t defenseless, nor was she small. Stiffening her spine, she resolved to prove that to him, along with the fact she was right about her sister and he was wrong about his brother. Calling on fortitude, she scooted to the edge of the seat and perched there.

He’d obviously found a comfortable position, leaning back with one ankle perched atop the opposite knee. He waited silently, studying her intently. His hands were steepled, his fingers resting near his mouth. He looked every inch an enemy...her enemy.

This definitely wasn’t the way she’d hoped the meeting would go. She’d dreamed of Billy being welcomed like a long-lost relative, brought into the protective fold of familial relationships. She and Billy had made the long, hot trek from Nebraska to Wyoming, and she’d kept that vision clearly in mind the whole way. Margaret had been all Cassie could hope for. But Zach...he was a law unto himself.

Closing her eyes for a second, she offered a silent thanks that Margaret had answered the door rather than him. If it had been Zach who’d turned the handle, Cassie knew she would have been tossed on her rear, the threat of a lawsuit nipping at her resolve.

When she opened her eyes, it was to find the same expression of infinite patience on his face. She easily imagined him in a tough negotiation to buy land or horses. He would never flinch, she knew. He’d remain calm until the deal was cut to his advantage.

“Mr. Hart, I understand, and more, I respect your need for caution.”

He inclined his head, a lock of hair falling across his forehead. The unruly hair made him seem less perfect, not vulnerable, but human. She wondered if looks truly were deceiving.

Judiciously she chose her next words. “Your mother mentioned you have reason to distrust women.”

“Did she?” He forced his shoulders back a fraction of an inch, farther into the soft and supple leather. “And what else did my mother share while you two were enjoying a cozy chat?”

“That’s all she told me,” Cassandra assured him, recognizing she’d already said too much. In the oppressive quiet, she twisted her hands in her lap, then abruptly stopped fidgeting when she realized he’d neatly noted her every movement.

She promised herself she’d push on, even though she realized he wouldn’t provide anything but a hindrance. And the sooner this was all over, the better.

She hated disagreements of any kind and would have preferred to spend her summer vacation at home, tutoring the kids who counted on her during the summer. Instead, she was in a man’s office who at best distrusted her, at worst thought she wanted a piece of his heritage. But the things she’d been through left her no choice. She was Billy’s only hope. She wouldn’t forget that. “I’m not the woman who hurt you. I’m not out to get you or your family.”

His brow arched, a dark motion of skepticism.

“I’ll prove it,” she said rashly, wondering how she’d ever keep her promise. “Let’s work together.” Leaning forward, she met his gaze. Right now, his blue eyes were frosted over, reminding her of clouds gathering across the sky. “We both want the same thing.”

“Do we, Ms. Morrison?” He emphasized the Ms., as if the title were worthy of nothing but derision.

Her sense of justice prickled.

“I assume it’s not Mrs. or Miss?”

She preferred to be addressed by her first name, and her students called her Miss Cassie. Still, she didn’t want Zach to have any ammunition to encourage intimacy. Intimacy with Zachary Hart was the last thing she wanted, especially since her long-neglected feminine instincts had already started cataloging him as a handsome man.

But handsome didn’t mean anything. Good looks didn’t disguise a deceptive soul, as Steven, her ex-fiancé, had painfully taught her. Tamping down the ache that always accompanied the thought of the man she’d nearly married, she reached out toward Zach, hoping against hope that he’d give her a chance. “I’ll ask for nothing, make no demands, until you find your brother.”

Zach tapped his index fingers together.

“Maybe Chad doesn’t even know about the baby,” she offered.

“Maybe your sister doesn’t know who the father really is,” he countered.

As if slapped, she recoiled. After everything she’d been through, the knot she’d made at the end of the rope in a desperate attempt to hold on, this was too much. “She knew all right.”

Raw determination seized her and she leaped to her feet, smacking her hands on the wooden desk and leaning toward him. She’d been willing to give his family the benefit of the doubt, making the assumption that Chad hadn’t abandoned Jeanie. But Cassie was rapidly approaching her tolerance level with arrogant males—Zach Hart topping the list. “I’ve had enough of your insinuations about my sister’s character when it’s your brother we’re discussing.”

Zach stood then and braced his palms on top of the desk, bringing them face-to-face. “Are you implying my brother is a bad person?” His words were whisper soft and delivered with the stinging intensity of electricity slashing the sky.

. Civility had just been a front, she realized. She forced herself to breathe, but couldn’t take in more than a quick gasp. Carefully she considered her next move. Margaret’s feelings notwithstanding, Zach wanted her out of his life. But Cassie couldn’t, wouldn’t, give him the chance to get rid of her and deny Billy the chance to know his father. “I’m not making any accusations, Mr. Hart,” she said, fighting for control. “I don’t personally know your younger brother.”

“Then?”

He had leaned so close she inhaled the scent of undisguised resolve. A thick shadow shaded his face, not a polite day’s growth, but more the beginnings of a beard. His hunter green Western shirt had lost its starch, if it had ever seen any. The material conformed to the breadth of his shoulders and tapered into faded gray jeans. The top two buttons of his shirt hung open and for a horrifying moment, she wondered what lay beneath.

The reckless thoughts threw off her concentration, and she regretted her words the moment she said them. “I’m wondering if any of the Hart men are willing to face their obligations.”

Fury blazed. She saw it in his eyes. She realized her mistake too late.

Before her muddled senses formed an apology, he’d rounded the desk and grabbed her shoulders.

“For my mother’s sake, I was attempting to be a gentleman.”

His fingers bit into her flesh, searing her with his heat. “Your accusation nullified that need.”

She inhaled sharply, vainly fighting fear to find solid ground

“I promise you, lady,” he said, words dangerously clipped and as cold as his icy gaze, “there hasn’t been a Hart yet who’s walked away from responsibility. And Chad isn’t about to be the first.”

Frantically she worked her hands between them, pressing her palms against the solid barricade of his chest She waited for him to shake her but he didn’t, apparently holding his anger in check by the thinnest thread. He stood a good five inches taller than she, outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds. In his arms, she was as inconsequential as a rag doll, and they both knew it.

“I want you out of my house, out of my life. Now. Name your price and get out.”

Tears swam in her eyes and she valiantly blinked them away. He could have hurt her, but he didn’t, giving her the barest hint of hope. In desperation she clung to that. “Mr. Hart, please. I don’t want your money.”

She heard a beseeching tone in her voice, begging him to understand. She didn’t like the sound of it, but there it was. Cassie knew she would never do this for herself, but for Billy...

She’d never experienced this depth of emotion before, had never understood what drove people to do anything to defend their own, but now, now she did.

Her palms were still pressed against Zach. She felt the rapid rise and fall of his chest, saw a pulse ticking in his temple. Still, Cassie knew she would push further if she had to, as far as she had to, take any gamble, any risk.

After all, Billy was the only family she had left.

She fought away fear, trying desperately to believe Zach had heart. “All I’m asking for is time, for a chance.”

He didn’t respond.

“Doesn’t Billy deserve at least that much from you?”

“Does he?” Zach countered.

She was in as deep as it got and knew the only way out was straight ahead. He hadn’t thrown her out yet. Even though he still gripped her shoulders, he no longer squeezed tightly. His eyes were still narrowed, danger still throbbed in his temple, but she had his complete attention, if not his agreement.

Trying to drag in a deep breath and only succeeding in finding enough for a few miserly words, she said, “Yes, he deserves this. You see, he’s already lost his mother.

“My sister,” Cassie continued, swimming through her own loss, “had her share of problems. She wasn’t perfect—maybe she wasn’t even cut out for parenting, but that’s something we’ll never know. One thing is for sure, though, she loved Billy more anything. She was trying to turn her life around—” Cassie broke off as a sob lodged in her throat.

“Loved?” he asked into the unnatural quiet.

Cassie fought back tears and anguish, along with the lump in her throat. Lord, this wasn’t going anything like she’d planned. She’d wanted to keep her emotions in check. Yet Zach seemed able to plow past each of her defenses. “She was killed in a car accident.”

Zach swore. “I’m sorry.”

She dashed the back of one hand across her eyes. “I am, too.” She blinked rapidly. “Jeanie was a special person. I wish you could have known her.”

He didn’t respond.

“I had no idea what to expect when I arrived at your ranch. But I agonized over the decision to come here and believed it was the right thing to do.” In his arms, she became more and more aware of him as a man, at the way he looked at her with single-minded concentration.

His cotton shirt lay beneath her hand, warm and soft, a studied contrast to the man himself. He still held on to her, but not with rigid anger, rather with something that bothered her far more than his frustration.

“I wondered whether this would be a terrible shock to everyone,” she said, trying to regain her equilibrium, trying not to notice the things she had no choice but to notice. “I didn’t know what else to do. I know this is hard for you, but it is for me, too. I hadn’t planned to become a mother quite so suddenly.”

“You’ve apparently got all the right maternal instincts.”

His quiet words made her heart constrict. They were so unexpected, so welcome. She told herself that maybe it was a tactic to disarm her, yet even still, she had trouble just passing off his kindness, pretending he’d said nothing. “It must be the schoolteacher in me.”

“Schoolteacher?”

She figured he’d probably seize any opportunity to change the subject, but it didn’t matter. “I teach kids with learning disabilities, kids some people say are unteachable. I’ve seen them lost and alone, hurting and needing.”

Silence surrounded them, seeping with meaning. “And do you fight for them, too?”

She looked at him. “Every one of them. I made a promise to myself that no child of mine would have to struggle that way, and that includes my nephew.”

“You’ll see to it.”

“Yes.” Cassandra nodded. “I will. Can you blame me?”

Silence fell again, but this time it settled rather than roared. She wanted to tell him about Jeanie, about Billy. “My sister came for a visit, bringing along Billy, my nephew. I never knew she was pregnant, let alone that she’d given birth.”

“Go on.”

“Three days later, the coroner came to the door. Jeanie had gone to the store to buy more formula, and—” Cassie swallowed “—and she’d swerved to miss an oncoming car. She hit a tree.”

Pain traipsed across the memory, opening the unhealed wound yet again. “I went from being an aunt to being a mother. Billy started to cry. It was like he knew something was wrong...I’d never made a bottle, I’d changed his diaper just once, and I was working as a teacher.

“I had to find a substitute while I handled the...the funeral arrangements.” She tilted her chin back, hoping it would be more difficult for tears to fall that way.

“Those first few days were the hardest. He cried constantly. Cried and cried. My arms weren’t familiar. I didn’t know the best way to hold him, to feed him. I think...I think he wanted his mommy.” She paused for a couple of beats, then whispered, “Billy was left all alone, an innocent, against the world.”

“Except for you.”

She swallowed. “Except for me,” she agreed.

“I don’t know,” Zach said. “Billy’s got you on his side. I think he’s probably luckier than some kids.”

His hold on her loosened. Instead of pain, she experienced reassurance and confidence. Heart. It confused her, left her adrift. She needed to get away, escape.

She pushed against his chest, half-surprised when he released her.

“I’ll find my brother, Ms. Morrison, soon.”

“There’s one more thing....”

“More surprises?” He arched a brow.

“I know you’d want to see this. I’d almost forgotten I had it.” She reached into the back pocket of her jeans.

He took the paper, unfolding the crisp folds, then scowling as if he could will the condemning words to change. “Billy’s birth certificate,” he said.

She didn’t see the sense in responding.

“A mother can list any name she wants.”

She fought the impulse to defend again.

“I could burn this.”

“You could. But I trust you not to do that.”

He looked at her over the top of the paper. “Why?”

“You haven’t thrown me out.” She wrapped her hands around her shoulders. Cassie didn’t add that it would be easy enough to get another copy. “You didn’t harm me. And I’m taking a risk that you have the integrity to at least find out the truth.”

“You assume a lot.”

“Am I wrong?”

He exhaled. With obvious reluctance, he folded the document and offered it back to her. “You’re welcome to stay in Laramie. There’s a couple of fine hotels. Have them send the bill to me. In the meantime, I’m sure you need to be on your way.”

Nerves attacked suddenly and swiftly. “Your mother has invited us to stay here.”

“Here?”

“She said...she said you have plenty of room and insisted on having our bags sent upstairs.”

Cassandra pulled back her shoulders, taking courage in the face of the tail end of the storm. “If you ask us to leave, I’ll understand.”

A vein throbbed in his temple. “My mother would have my hide if I kicked you out. But be warned, Ms. Morrison, if I find out this is a scam, that you’ve uttered one false word to me or especially to my mother, playing with our emotions and trying to win her favor, you’ll answer to me.”

Her pulse pounded in her throat.

“I guarantee you, lady, you won’t like the consequences.”

She could only imagine.

Without even the barest hint of a smile, he said, “Welcome to the Wind Song Ranch.”

In the sanctuary of her upstairs bedroom, Cassie dropped onto the edge of the bed. In the living room she’d kept a facade of cheerfulness for Margaret’s sake, but eagerly escaped as soon as Billy settled for his afternoon nap.

As stress slithered from Cassie’s shoulders, she pressed a hand over her heart, willing the beat to slow.

The confrontation with Zach had unnerved her completely.

When she’d faced him, she’d fought not to betray how difficult each word was, and worse, her awareness of him as a man.

Zach Hart wore power like an aura. His presence branded the entire house, and she’d been spellbound by it, by him.

“Welcome to the Wind Song Ranch,” he’d said, no emotion behind the words or in his expression. She’d almost imagined the ending to that statement, “Now go home.”

Drinking in fresh oxygen, she felt it burn its way back out.

Cassie’s expectations had been few when she had loaded her fourteen-week-old nephew in the car and headed for Wyoming...few expectations and one hope, that the Harts would live up to their name.

Margaret had heart. But Zach? Cassie wondered if one beat inside his chest.

No, that wasn’t exactly true, she realized, a flush flooding her face. She’d felt the commanding throb of Zach’s heart thud beneath her palm.

He was a flesh and blood man, yet he held all the advantages and left her scrambling for footing.

For a few seconds she contemplated the cowardly route—zipping closed her suitcase and dragging it back downstairs. It would be easier to run and hide. When he’d spoken, Zach’s words had rung with the steel of promise and threat. If his family was hurt, he’d exact the price...from her.

She shuddered, recalling the way his eyes had darkened, from blue to slate.

But what of her family? She was all Billy had left, the only one who could defend him, fight for what he deserved. He’d been through so much, more than any baby should have to endure. In this, Billy was the innocent...she vowed to make Zach remember that.

Before leaving Nebraska, she had spoken to an attorney about trying to adopt Billy. The process still might take months, maybe more, the lawyer had told her. And first she’d have to find out if Chad was his father, and if he’d fight for custody. But if she won...

When she won, she’d be his mother in all senses of the word, and the two of them would have a legal and spiritual bond nothing could sever.

The echo of a masculine footfall on the steps made her pulse jump, missing a beat or two.

Zach.

She knew their rooms were next to each other, his just the door beyond hers, but until now she hadn’t considered all the implications.

Silence thundered. Had he stopped in front of her door? Her eyes closed again, and breath timidly clung to her lungs. She needed to regroup before facing the awesome force of his personality again.

He continued on, away from her room, and she exhaled in a ragged rush. Then a door slammed and a painting on the wall jumped in its frame, taking her confidence with it.

Water rushed through pipes, and she realized he was showering. That meant taking off his shirt and stripping away denim and cotton.

Her mouth dried, but she didn’t dare analyze why: She was in deep—deeper than she’d ever imagined or dreamed.

After offering a silent prayer for strength as well as resolve, she pushed to her feet again. Margaret had planned dinner for four, including Zach’s older brother, Nick.

Nick wasn’t a regular guest, Margaret had said, rather an infrequent one. He lived in Denver with his own family, but he’d been in Cheyenne bidding on a job. The Wind Song wasn’t that far out of his way, as if that was meant to have made Cassie feel better.

She only hoped she had something left to defend a second assault from a Hart brother. Zach had showered, would likely be fortified again before meeting with her. Thank goodness for Margaret’s support. Cassie didn’t know what she would have done without it.

Five minutes later, when silence shrouded the upstairs, she opened her door. Cowardly she checked the hallway before tiptoeing toward the makeshift nursery.

Billy slept soundly, the rise and fall of his steady breaths never failing to amaze her. With a slight smile, she went into the bathroom, where evidence of Zach overwhelmed her.

Steam clung to the mirror like a mystical cloud, and the scent of soap melded with the spice of mountain air cologne. A damp towel draped the tub. She saw his jeans peeking from beneath the laundry hamper’s lid and more—a scrap of material lay on top of them.