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Gingerly, he sat up, testing the state of his head as he pushed himself into a vertical position. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes but the blinding pain was gone. Mentally he thumbed his nose at the doctor from the emergency room. See? Told you I was fine. Growing up on a ranch makes a man tough. Got to be dead before I can be hospitalized.
Still, it wasn’t wise to push it too far, he thought. Prudently, he stuffed his toe into the top of one boot and dragged it toward him so that he could stomp into it without bending over. Then he repeated the process. Feeling pretty pleased with himself, he carefully rose, waiting for a mild wave of dizziness to pass before he walked out of the bedroom and headed for the staircase he dimly remembered coming up a few hours earlier.
What was Dulcie doing now? Recalling her behavior earlier, he realized that his chances of regaining her friendship—or anything else—were slim at this point. The idea didn’t set well. Only, of course, because he hated to be at odds with his friends.
He started down the hallway toward the steps he’d come up a few hours ago, intending to hunt her down and make her talk to him. A sound from the far end of the hallway caught his attention and he paused at the top step. Somewhere back there a woman was humming. And it sounded enough like Dulcie’s voice that he turned and retraced his steps, going past his bedroom and on down the hallway to the last door on the left.
The door was slightly ajar and the humming came from within. It was definitely Dulcie’s voice. He’d heard her hum while she’d made a meal for him one evening in Albuquerque. Elated at the opportunity to speak privately with her so soon, he put a hand against the door and pushed lightly.
The door swung open.
Dulcie sat in a rocking chair, gazing down at the baby in her arms. Her blouse hung open and the infant was suckling greedily at her exposed breast.
Shock tore through him. The child was hers!
He must have made some sound, because Dulcie’s head jerked up. A startled gasp escaped her, and her dark eyes widened to panicked proportions when she saw him standing there.
He couldn’t move. Wild thoughts were chasing through his brain faster than he could examine them all. Observations battered at his senses: the barely visible crown of the baby’s head covered in a down of dark hair…Dulcie’s arm tenderly cradling the tiny child…one little hand kneading his mother’s warm flesh as he suckled…
Finally, knowing he had questions that had to be answered, Tye took a deep breath and strode forward into the room where Dulcie and her baby sat.
His movement seemed to release her from stasis, as if she’d been frozen until then. She whipped a small blanket from the back of the rocking chair and draped it over her shoulder, arranging it to cover the nursing infant and her bare breast.
“What are you doing sneaking around like that?” Her face was as angry as her voice.
Dulcie’s harsh demand seemed to frighten the baby; Tye saw its little legs jerk spasmodically, and then the child began to cry. Immediately, Dulcie’s attention shifted. She drew the baby from beneath the blanket and cradled him in her arms, murmuring to him in low tones and gently patting his tiny back until gradually the infant quieted. After a moment, she placed him back under the blanket, frowning in concentration as she guided him to her breast.
The ease with which she handled the baby hammered home the truth that he was trying to deny, despite the clear evidence he’d seen. This baby really was Dulcie’s.
Tye was stunned. His head had begun to throb again. Who was this child’s father? At some point during those first days of getting to know each other in Albuquerque, he’d learned that Dulcie was separated from her husband, awaiting a divorce. At the time, Tye had thought Lyle Meadows must have been a blind man and a stupid one to boot.
But if the baby wasn’t Lyle’s…Despite the pain, his mind engaged in some rapid calculations. It had been almost exactly ten months ago that he and Dulcie had made love the first and only night they’d spent together. The same night that she’d discovered her husband’s infidelity. If she had conceived then, and if she’d carried the child to term, the baby should be somewhere around a month old.
Cautiously, he cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his dismay. “How old is he?”
Dulcie raised her chin and traded him stare for stare.
He’d remembered her as a quiet woman, soft and soothing, easily managed. There was nothing of those qualities in her now. He held her gaze, silently willing her to drop hers first.
She continued to look straight into his eyes. “My son is three weeks old.”
Three weeks old. The room swam around him again for a moment, but this time it wasn’t because his head hurt. Dismay and shock combined in a force that was nearly a physical sensation, sucking the breath from his chest. This was all his fault.
He’d taken advantage of her.
Ten months ago, Dulcie Meadows had been vulnerable and alone. She’d come to him for comfort and understanding. Oh, he’d been comforting, all right. And he’d been as understanding as could be. But if he’d been a true gentleman, he would have backed away. He wouldn’t have taken what she offered, would have realized that what she needed was a friend, not a horny fool like him.
Yet if he were completely honest, he was damned glad he wasn’t a gentleman on that single night with Dulcie. The only thing he really regretted was the way they had parted. He’d meant to go after her, to talk to her when she’d calmed down, but the phone call from his uncle had changed everything, and he’d had to rush off to Montana without settling things with Dulcie.
Telling himself that he’d tried to get in touch with her was little consolation. The whole time he’d been taking care of Uncle Ike’s ranch, he’d thought of her. He felt guilty and was determined to apologize.
That, of course, was what he’d made himself believe until now.
Until he’d seen her again.
But this…this wasn’t the way he’d expected their reunion to go.
Rage began to rise, both at himself and at Dulcie. What a fool he’d been. In all these months, he had never considered that there might have been consequences resulting from their night together.
Consequences. What a stupid euphemism. A baby was a darn sight more than a “consequence.” A baby was a huge, permanent obstacle in the simple path his life was following.
Why hadn’t she told him she was pregnant? One thing was clear: she sure hadn’t been thinking of him the way he’d constantly had her on his mind. God, if he hadn’t followed her down here, he still wouldn’t know that they’d created a baby together.
A baby. His baby. All his adult life he’d been careful to assume responsibility for birth control. until Dulcie. He’d vowed he would never have an illegitimate child, would never subject a child of his to the inevitable cruel taunts that would bring. All his life he’d been on the outside looking in at kids who belonged, kids who would never know bow the word “bastard” could slice through a child’s vulnerable heart. For he knew all too well how much that hurt.
And now he had a son who would bear the same stigma.
Dulcie sat frozen in the rocking chair, willing herself not to quail before the fury in Tye’s incredulous gaze.
He swore quietly, viciously, and she flinched despite her best efforts.
Finally, he stopped and just stared at her again. “He’s mine.”
She was supremely conscious of the slurping, grunting sounds her son made as he suckled. Tye must have heard him, too, because his gaze dropped momentarily to the outline of the baby’s body beneath the light throw she’d draped over herself. Superstitiously she crossed her fingers beneath the blanket.
“He’s not yours. He’s Lyle’s.”
“That’s bull and you know it.” Tye’s voice was rough and tight. “A blood test will prove it, too.”
“No!” She forced herself to mute the protest that escaped so that she wouldn’t upset the baby. “I’m telling you this is my husband’s child.”
Tye snorted. “Not likely, darlin’. I seem to recollect you telling me in no uncertain terms that your marriage bed hadn’t been used for anything besides sleep for a long time before I met you.”
Oh, she could just die. She remembered exactly when that conversation had taken place. And from the way Tye’s big body stilled and his nostrils flared, she knew he was recalling the same thing.
“Things happened after you left for Idaho—”
“Montana.” It was a snarl.
“Montana, then. Lyle and I resumed—”
“You’re lying. You expect me to believe you went back to that jerk after walking in on him in bed with another woman? I don’t think so.” The heavy scorn in his voice brought a rush of heat to her cheeks, but before she could formulate a response, he went on. “If it’s true, then I’m sure good ol’ Lyle won’t mind telling me about it. Shall I track him down and give him a call?”
The heat drained from her cheeks as suddenly as it came and left her cold. Freezing. “No.” She wanted to fight, to throw him out of her life, but she could see from the set look on his face that he wouldn’t go. Closing her eyes in defeat, she laid her head against the back of the rocker. “Lyle was killed in an automobile accident shortly after the divorce.”
Silence filled the room. When he didn’t answer, she opened her eyes.
He looked shocked, and for a moment she was meanly pleased to have knocked him off stride. But before she could congratulate herself too much, Tye recovered his voice.
“I’m sorry. That must have been a jolt even though you weren’t married any longer.” His tone grew steely. “Still, it doesn’t change anything, does it? That baby is mine and I’ll do whatever I have to to prove it.”
She didn’t know what else she could say, so she said nothing, just lowered her head and watched her son’s tiny feet flex as he tugged vigorously at her breast. Really, there was nothing more to say. If Tye forced the issue, he’d have no trouble finding out that he was indeed a father. She’d even listed him on the birth certificate.
Why had he come down here?
Even before she had learned of her pregnancy, she’d assumed she would never see him again. Truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to. Her behavior on the night she’d caught Lyle having sex with another woman wasn’t exactly something she wanted to recall.
She hadn’t planned on telling Tye he was going to be a father, honestly hadn’t thought he would want to know. In the few talks they had had about his photographic career, he had never hinted at any desire to settle down to family life. In fact, she distinctly remembered he’d said that bachelorhood suited him just fine. He’d been out of town half the time she had lived next to him. He was a wanderer, just like her husband had been. And she knew better than to expect anything from a wanderer.
Panic began to well up, clogging her throat with fear. What would happen now?
“Dulcie.” His voice interrupted her racing thoughts.
She looked up and was captured in the full intensity of his golden eyes. She’d forgotten how compelling his eyes were, how beautiful. His driver’s license called them hazel, but the word was only a pale description-”Is this our baby?” His words were quiet and plaintive, demanding honesty.
She swallowed, unable to look into those eyes and lie any longer. “Yes.”
A grimace twisted his face for a second.
It was gone so quickly that she couldn’t decipher it. Was he angry? Or had that been pain she’d glimpsed?
“Why didn’t you call me when you found out you were pregnant?” There was no accusation or demand in his voice, only bewilderment.
Dulcie shrugged, looking across the room at the copper-and-turquoise mobile that danced above the dressing table. “I didn’t know how to reach you,” she said.
Tye frowned and a small snort escaped him. “I slipped a note under your door with the number at my uncle’s ranch the morning I left. And I tried to call you, remember? Several times. Every time I did, I left the number.” He shook his head, looking at the baby as if he couldn’t fathom that it was real. “But you never called me back.”
Dulcie cleared her throat as she placed the baby against her shoulder and began to rub his back. “I, um, I didn’t keep your number.”
“You didn’t.” His words trailed off.
She saw the anger flare again, saw the conscious effort he made to overcome what she had to admit was a justified urge to shout at her. Why had she ever thought she could or should raise her son without at least giving his father the chance to know him?
“What’s his name?” Tye stepped closer and stretched out a finger, drawing back just before he caressed a tiny pink arm.
“Ryan.” Dulcie was mesmerized by those eyes again. Hadn’t she always been? Even when they’d just been friends, she’d been aware of his sex appeal. But now, it filled the room, making her supremely aware of the intimate bond they shared. “His name is Tyler Ryan Kincaid. I took my maiden name back after the divorce.”
The small twitch at the corner of his eye was the only sign he gave of his surprise, but his voice was deadly quiet when he spoke. “You named him after me, but you weren’t going to tell me about him?”
Two (#ulink_023f4ab0-68d7-5663-bbcf-0edd94e0ad80)
His son. Tye swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. He had a son.
Nothing in his life had prepared him for the emotion that surged through him as reality sank in. For a moment, all his misgivings were submerged beneath a growing sense of wonder.
He circled around to the side of the rocking chair to get a better look at the baby. The child’s round skull was covered with thick black hair that stuck straight up. His tiny head lolled to one side and his eyes were half closed, his arms hanging limply over Dulcie’s shoulder. He looked the very picture of satiation.
Gently, Tye slipped his index finger beneath the baby’s palm. When Ryan reflexively clasped his hand around his father’s finger, Tye smiled. “Wow. He’s got quite a grip for such a little guy.”
“He’s not so little,” she said. “He weighed over nine pounds when he was born.”
His cousin Leslie’s second daughter had been almost that big, and he remembered the horror story her husband told about how difficult the birth had been. He winced at the thought. Dulcie was small and petite, hardly built for delivering a miniature fullback. “Was it hard on you?”
She shrugged. “After twenty-three hours of labor, they thought I wasn’t going to be able to deliver him. They were prepping me for a cesarean section when his head crowned and the doctor decided to give it one more try. I think it was about two more hours after that before he was delivered.”
He was appalled. The thought of her suffering through a day of wrenching pain was more than he could bear to think about. “Were you alone?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Angel was with me.” Then her lips curved into a wry smile. “Although I wish she hadn’t been. That experience could have turned her off pregnancy for life.”
He didn’t share her mirth. “Dammit, Dulcie, I could have been there. I could have helped you.” His voice reflected the bitterness that rose within him. “But you never gave me the chance. You were going to cut me out of my son’s life without a second thought. Why?”
Her hand moved restlessly over the baby’s back, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I…we really didn’t know each other that well, Tye. You’re devoted to your work and you’re always traveling. I honestly didn’t think it would matter to you.” Her hand hesitated for a moment, and she looked up at him with an unspoken apology in her dark eyes. “Now I realize that was unfair.”
“Unfair?” Tye snorted. “That’s an understatement.” He eased his finger from his son’s tiny fist and walked across the room, massaging the back of his neck with one hand.
“What will you do now?” Behind him, Dulcie’s voice was filled with apprehension.
He pivoted to face her. “How the hell do I know? I just found out I’m a father five minutes ago. I need some time to think about this.” And just like that, he knew what he needed to do. “You and I have to talk, to make some decisions. I’ll stay here at the ranch for a while until we can sort all this out.”
Dulcie’s eyes widened. “Here? In this house?”
“In this house,” he confirmed. Seeing her brows draw together, he added, “And just in case you’re thinking of refusing, let me remind you that I could take this to court if I have to. I have a right to be involved in my son’s life.”
Dulcie was silent for so long that he wondered what she was thinking. When she finally spoke, it wasn’t the stinging response for which he’d braced himself. “What about your job?” she asked. “Don’t you have to work?”
Tye thought of the healthy nest egg his free-lance photography had provided, about the way his agent was constantly pestering him to approve limitededition prints from some of his work. “Let me worry about that,” he advised her.
The ringing of the dinner bell interrupted any more conversation. He waited in the hall until Dulcie rearranged her clothing, then followed her downstairs to the dining room, where the table was prepared for dinner.
Three cowboys were taking seats as he entered. Dulcie pointed to a seat at the long table and told him, “Sit there.” She placed Ryan in a little cradle next to the far corner of the table and took a seat where she could see the baby. Just then, Angel backed through the door from what he assumed was the kitchen. Behind her was a little girl with glossy, bouncing dark curls carrying a fistful of napkins, which she handed to Dulcie. Angel set a large casserole dish on the table and turned to lift the little girl into a chair. Another cowboy, easily the biggest man in the room, entered through the same door, carrying a huge bowl of baked potatoes, as well as a covered basket from which wafted the fragrant scent of bread. He set them on the table and took the seat at the head of the table, with Angel on his right and the child seated between them.
Angel placed her hand on the man’s brawny forearm. “Day, we have a visitor this evening. This is Tye Bradshaw.” She turned and smiled at Tye. “Tye, this is my husband, Day Kincaid, Dulcie’s brother.”
The rancher rose at the same time Tye did. The hand he extended met Tye’s in a grip strong enough to crush bone. Tye returned it in full measure, not easing the pressure until Day grinned and relaxed his palm. “Welcome to the Red Arrow, Tye. What brings you to these parts?”
As both men resumed their seats, Dulcie rushed into speech before Tye could explain his presence. “Tye was my neighbor in Albuquerque. He’s going to be visiting for a few days.”
A few days? Tye turned his head and stared at Dulcie until she dropped her gaze to her plate. He had a suspicion it was going to take more than a few days to straighten out everything between them. When he looked at Day Kincaid again, the welcome had faded from Day’s eyes and a guarded speculation had replaced his initial friendliness.
Angel carried on with the introductions. Tye saw her nudge her husband in the ribs with a surreptitious elbow, clearly a warning to mind his company manners. “Tye was involved in an accident in Deming, and his car is under repair.” Then she turned to Tye again, naming for him the three cowhands who were grouped at the foot of the table. She finished by pointing to the little girl. “And this is our daughter, Beth Ann. She’s a big help with her new cousin Ryan.”
The child giggled and nodded vigorously. “I sing songs to Ry’n. He loves my songs.”
Tye couldn’t help grinning. The child reminded him of his two cousins’ little girls. “How old are you, Beth Ann?” he asked.
She proudly held up four stubby fingers. “Fou’.”
“Wow!” He feigned amazement. “I have two little nieces the very same age.”
