Rancher's Baby. Anne Marie Winston
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?”
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