Cowboy Secret (The Dalton Boys Book 4) (4 page)

* * * * *

All the way across the yard and past chickens, cats and a dog or two, Sabrina couldn’t escape the crawling feeling inside. After raising Owen alone, it didn’t sit well to leave him with strangers even for a few minutes. But mostly she was nervous because Beck was going to tell her off.

She twisted her fingers and followed his strong back into the dark shadows of the barn.

Hay and animal filled her nose, but it was a pleasant smell. Comforting almost. She’d smelled these things on Beck and even now wanted to bury her nose against his denim shirt and just breathe.

He faced her, the flicker back in his jaw.

Oh boy. Explaining her reasons for keeping Owen from him was going to be harder than she’d thought. It all made perfect sense to her, but he was self-centered and wouldn’t see himself the way she did.

“I don’t know where to start.” His low admission resonated with pain.

She swallowed hard. “I’ll start at the beginning?”

He walked into the shadows, boots scuffing clean floorboards. Turning his back on her, he propped his arms on a horse stall and dropped his head.

Heart spasming, she racked her mind for what to say or do to make this right. She was here and she had no choice but to tell him why. That’s where she’d start.

Drawing a deep breath, she said, “I lost my teaching job and I can’t make ends meet. I was behind on rent and left just before we were evicted.”

His shoulder blades flexed. Then he slowly turned and pierced her in his gaze. Even in the dim lighting, his bright blue eyes glittered.

She backed up a step.

“So you need money.” His tone was deep with anger.

“Y-yes.”

“A place to live even.”

She nodded, feeling the tears engorge her throat again. Coming here was a form of begging, and it humiliated her. But deep down, she couldn’t be sorry for seeing Owen in his father’s arms. The vision would forever be emblazoned on her heart.

He heaved a sigh. “I wish to hell I could harden myself against you. Tell you to leave my son here and send you off to make your own way.”

“What the—” She strangled on the words. Locking a hand on her hip, she faced him down. “You can’t just take Owen!”

“I said I wished I could do that, not that I will. If I could tie you to a hay bale and paddle your ass for this, I would do that too, Sabrina. So help me…” His throat worked with his fury and a vein pulsed in his temple. Suddenly he grabbed the nearest thing—a metal pail—and hurled it against the wall.

Jumping at the clamor, she backed up two more steps. He hadn’t looked as though he were kidding about those ropes.

“Why?” he roared.

“Because you didn’t give a damn about me. You were in love with yourself.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to prove my worth to my son! I would have taken responsibility.” He punctuated his words by punching a sack of feed. Then he lifted it overhead and hurled it. It hit the floor with a thump and a cloud of dust.

“You can’t expect to keep him here,” she countered.

“I do expect it. I demand it.” He approached, muscles rolling like a big cat’s. “I lost all these months and I’m damn well getting them back, woman.”

The way he said
woman
sent a shiver down her spine. She took another step away, but it had nothing to do with the anger on his rugged features. No, she didn’t trust herself when he used that deep, alluring tone.

She clenched her fists and stood her ground. “I made a choice based on what I knew about you. It was the right one at the time.”

“No, it fucking wasn’t.”

She’d only heard him use strong language on one or two occasions and to hear it now set off alarms in her mind. He really
was
angry with her.

“I needed a man who was there for me. Someone to depend on. I couldn’t even depend on you to make it on time for a date.”

“Yeah, I was late a few times, but only because I was here, busting my ass.”

She started to shake her head.

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you knew where I was or accuse me of lying. I wasn’t playing you, Sabrina. I had fun with you.” His voice pitched low again, and her nerves jittered. “I know you had fun too.”

Oh God, yes. Hours of pleasure—riding her cowboy and loving his big muscles moving atop her. Loving him inside her. Her body remembered too well, especially when he took another step closer.

I didn’t come here to give my vibrator a break.

“Owen and I need help until I can get on my feet.”

“Until you get a job and have enough money to drive back out of my life. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes.”

In one step, he was against her. Huge chest pressed to her aching breasts. Her nipples peaked at his nearness and she nearly gasped. The last time she’d felt so turned on had been…well, the day Owen was conceived.

Beck closed his fingers around her upper arms, forbidding her escape as he leaned down, down, down until she felt his hot breath rush her skin. “You and Owen aren’t going anywhere. You will stay on this ranch while we figure out what to do.”

“You can’t fight me for custody.” How she’d managed to make her voice so strong, she had no idea.

“I never said I was. I can see you’re a good momma. What I’m questioning are your decision-making skills.”

“You insufferable ass. Always insulting my intelligence.”

He hauled her onto tiptoe so she felt every steely inch of his body. “You’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met. But you weren’t thinking clearly when you made this choice. For that, I’ll forgive you—in time.”

He released her and she rocked back.

“Now give me the particulars. When did you find out you were pregnant?”

“About six weeks after we…” Memories of lying with him, admiring the way his eyes creased when he squinted and the stubble on his jaw were too vivid. She needed to back away from him before she did something really stupid.

Like kiss him.

She sank her teeth into her lower lip, and he followed the action. For a throbbing heartbeat, she thought he might be thinking the same thing. He gave an all-over shudder like a dog coming out of the creek.

“Did you ever have any intention of telling me?”

She threaded her fingers through the curls over her ear. “Look, Beck, I didn’t set out to hurt you. I thought I was doing the best thing for my son. I saw signs of the way I was raised and I never wanted that for my child.”

“Your son. Your child,” he spat. “Did you make him yourself? Because I remember having a hand—and other body parts—in that.”

Heat sidled into her lower belly. She hated the sensation and welcomed it at the same time. It had been so long and…dammit, she still loved this intolerable cowboy.

Each time she looked at Owen, she saw Beck. She knew eventually the babyish curves of Owen’s face would be replaced by that sharp, chiseled jaw and carved cheekbones.

“No, you were definitely there,” she whispered.

“And now you’re
here
and you’re going to answer every question I throw at you. I deserve that much, don’t you think?”

She gulped and finally nodded. “Yes.”

“Your pregnancy…all normal? Were you sick? Bedridden at all?”

“No. I worked through it, teaching third grade.”

He gave a nod and moved to the next question. “Did you find out his sex or was it a surprise?”

She met his gaze. The hurt there ripped her last thread of control away and guilt flooded in. Had she really been wrong about Beck? The man before her would have stepped up, but he was somehow different now.

The old Beck would have tried to make jokes and downplay the seriousness of the situation. This Beck…he was as serious as a heart attack.

“I knew he was a boy,” she said at last. “I thought it best for planning. I didn’t have much money to spend and...”

He ripped his hat off and shoved his fingers through his hair. Then he stomped ten steps away. “Dammit,” she heard him mutter.

For the first time, she wondered if he would have liked to know the sex or be surprised. Asking right now seemed like a very bad idea, though. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

“How did you go into labor? I mean, were you at work? Home?”

At him wanting to know, her heart gave a tiny, happy squeeze. “Home.” She laughed at the memory. “I’d just gotten out of the shower when my water broke.”

“How’d you get to the hospital?” His dark brows were storm clouds hovering over his narrowed eyes.

“There wasn’t another man, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He pushed out a breath. “So you drove yourself?”

“A nice neighbor took me.”

“How long were you in labor?”

“Nineteen hours.”

“Nineteen…Jesus.” He sat abruptly on a hay bale, leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. The despondent pose shouldn’t make her pulse race, but it did. Beck Dalton was a gorgeous man.

She crossed the barn to stand before him. “I had an epidural. I’d wanted to go natural and had taken all the classes, but in the end, I was a wimp.”

He shook his head, his hands rasping against his unshaven jaw. The noise raised goosebumps all over her body. “Not a wimp. You did what was best for you.”

She blinked. “Yes, I did. Every step of the way.”

When he raised his gaze, his eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I really was an ass, but I still should have been there. I would have supported you through everything, Sabrina.”

They stared at each other while dust motes swirled hectically in the air currents moving through the barn.

“I wasn’t there, but I am now. And you’re going to let me do this. My way.”

There didn’t seem to be any use in arguing with him. He was like hundred-year-old oak with roots delving into the molten core of the earth. Besides, all the fight was gone from her.

Chapter Three

The air was as thick as Momma’s famous homemade chocolate pudding. No breeze cut across Paradise Valley, and Beck felt as though he were choking to death.

He ripped off his shirt and hooked it on the saddle horn. Then he dug in his back pocket for his handkerchief. With jerky movements he knotted it around his throat to catch some of the sweat pouring off him.

His brothers were in similar states. Right before a huge storm, the weather got unbearable like this. Hank and Cash were up ahead, herding cattle back toward the rest of the brothers. Manny and Pa stood ready with all the equipment needed to check each cow.

The hoof rot was bad this year. After all the rain they’d had, it was no wonder. Beck hadn’t seen such a thing in Dalton cattle since he was a young’un. Too young to really understand that sick cows meant a failing ranch.

Now he took it seriously. And as of this morning, they had two more mouths to feed.

“Get control of your horse, Beck,” Kade snapped.

“I got him. You know this one’s frisky.”

“Like his rider, seems to me.”

Beck’s head snapped up. “What’s that mean?”

Kade spat a sunflower seed he’d been chomping and drawled, “How many kids you got out there, brother?”

“You son of a—”

“Enough,” Pa barked. “Kade, leave him alone. Beck, get your head in the game. We’ve got a hundred thousand pounds of cattle bearing down on us. We need everyone.”

Beck huffed but his father was right. Errors could result in injury or even death. A mishandled cow could wheel around and crush a man. Tensing his lips into a line, he focused on his job.

Beck and Cash drove the first few into the fencing. Witt and Kade were busy roping. Beck paced his horse along the group to keep them corralled and calm. He flexed his hands around the reins. All eight knuckles were sore or split.

After his talk with Sabrina, he’d done what any man in his situation would do—he took up the grain sack and punched it until his hands were too sore to go on. His whole world was tilted on its axis, and it would take some sorting out. But he wasn’t angry to discover he had a son. No, that was the only good thing.

He was irate with Sabrina—and himself. He’d really fucked up with her. Until the moment he’d set eyes on her again, he hadn’t realized just what he’d lost. He might have been too young and stupid a year and a half ago. But now…he saw the sweet curve of her lips and the softness in her eyes.

For him.

She looked at him the same way. That woman worked under his skin. Being around her again felt like lying nekkid in a hay pile. He’d taken for granted that she’d keep him informed about the broken condom. How wrong he’d been.

When he thought of her going through the pregnancy, labor and delivery without him, he wanted to rush headlong into the cows and let them trample him. He needed to punish himself somehow. Then throttle her.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

His horse was getting used to his bad language. He’d used it often enough in the past three hours.

Manny and Pa were busy checking the animals his brothers had roped. Hooves, ears, eyes. Manny injected several with antibiotics.

The first splash of rain struck Beck’s hat and bounced onto his forearm. He tipped his head up just as the clouds opened up.

“Dammit. I hate being soaked and chafed,” Kade said.

That’s how Beck had been feeling since Sabrina had driven back into his life. A downpour of revelations had him chafing pretty badly.

But he couldn’t deny the pride swelling him. He had a son. When he thought about Owen, he wanted to thump his chest and roar to the sky. As soon as possible, he was giving the boy the Dalton last name. It wasn’t right he was a Myers.

More cows were tended. One escaped, and Beck chased it down, lassoed it and led it back to the herd. All the time his mind was on the two newcomers to the ranch.

Leaving the house, he’d seen the women surround Sabrina and Owen. Between his sisters-in-law and his momma, she’d be welcomed in a big way. Why hadn’t he ever brought her home to meet his family? He’d been a real dick, but thoughts of a lasting relationship with her had been far away. They were in lust, pure and simple.

He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. She had an athletic look similar to his brother’s wife. She wouldn’t blow away in a breeze and had hips a man could really grab. And damn, he wanted to grab them bad.

What was Beck going to do with her? She couldn’t live here. Basically because he couldn’t guarantee another Dalton baby wouldn’t come of it. She was still too sexy for the bounds of his self-control.

But if she took Owen away from him again, he couldn’t be responsible for his actions. That boy needed to be raised here in Paradise Valley, among other Daltons.

The rain increased until water streamed off his bare torso. It felt good but didn’t begin to cool the fires of his blood. With Sabrina so close, he’d almost succumbed to his desires already and kissed her. And she wanted him too. Her parted lips and hardened nipples were evidence that she wasn’t immune to him either.

This was going to be one hell of a challenge. He had to find a way to keep her near and help her while resisting the urge to make her scream his name in ecstasy.

He swiped a hand over his face, slicking away water. Hank and Cash were scattering the healthy cows in the pasture. For a split second, Beck pictured what they had as his own future. Coming out of the fields to a pretty little wife and kids.

Beck had no idea how to make this custody thing work with Owen’s mother and the idea of finding someone to spend his life with couldn’t be further from his mind.

Hell.

“Look alive, Beck,” Kade called.

He wheeled around to see a cow doing a bucking dance across the field. He dug his heels into his horse’s sides and shot toward the animal. Rain splattered his face and he could finally draw a full breath. Whatever came with Sabrina and his son, he’d deal with it. After all, he had plenty of rope.

* * * * *

What had Beck told his family about her, if anything? Sabrina bounced Owen on her knee and his teething keys rattled. Another baby crowed, and Owen wiggled to be set down.

The Dalton women were all gathered in the big family room. Mothers and babies sat on the carpet and Mrs. Dalton was in her recliner, grinning like a cat with a pail of cream. It was impossible for Sabrina not to feel true joy that she’d given the woman another grandson. But neither she nor Beck had talked to his mother about the situation, and she didn’t know how to open the floor.

“This tea’s a little sweeter than I like.” The woman with warm brown skin and glossy black hair set aside the glass with a smile. “We use honey to sweeten things in my homeland.”

“I couldn’t get used to tea without lots of sugar,” Charlotte said. She had brown curly hair so much like Sabrina’s, it was a little unnerving. Either the Dalton boys had similar taste in women or Beck had some strange fantasies.

“Owen is so adorable. How did you come up with the name? Is it a family name?” Mrs. Dalton looked eager to hear the details.

“Uh, no. I just liked the name.”

“I thought it might be your father’s name.”

“No, no. His name is Alex. We aren’t close.”

“Oh.”

Sabrina looked at the faces surrounding her, gathering the courage to spill the story. She and Beck had sorted through the bulk of it—if arguing in a barn equaled discussion. Beck was off in the field with his menfolk, probably talking about it right now. That left Sabrina to handle the women.

“Beck and I dated for a short time while I was at the Vixen school.”

The ladies all focused on her. The woman named Shelby rubbed her stomach, which was just starting to round with child. Sabrina couldn’t remember which Dalton man her husband was, though.

She shook herself and continued. “We broke up rather…abruptly. I didn’t know I was pregnant.”

Several lips pursed as if the ladies were biting back their words. Whether accusatory or sympathetic, Sabrina couldn’t hear them. She rushed through the rest of her story.

“I went away, got a teaching position and had Owen. But I lost my job and couldn’t find work that paid enough. I felt too terrible accepting welfare and that’s why I came to Beck.”

“He’s the father,” Mrs. Dalton said, not unkindly.

“It’s evident by the look of Owen.” Charlotte picked up her little boy, who was older than Owen by about a year, and plopped him beside his cousin. Someone laughed at the uncanny resemblance.

“They could be brothers,” Sabrina murmured.

“Dalton men have strong genes,” the dark-haired woman said.

Shelby waggled her brows and patted her stomach. “And strong needs.”

Everyone burst into laughter and Mrs. Dalton pulled her apron up over her face, hiding her blush. But the tips of her ears gave it away.

Owen flapped his arms and gave a chortle of his own. The baby beside him tweaked Owen’s nose. Pretty soon the pair was babbling to each other and Owen shared his spit-covered teething keys.

Sabrina released a long, stress-relieving sigh. She’d told her story—the important parts—and nobody had attacked her. And they obviously accepted Owen as one of their own.

It saddened her a little to think of the boy coming here for holidays and gatherings that she wouldn’t belong to. Sharing him with Beck was going to be the biggest adjustment.

She sucked in a sharp breath. Oh God. Had she become her parents? Neither of them had wanted to share her, resulting in a tug of war she’d despised her entire life. Inadvertently, had she started the same life for her little boy?

Heavy clomps of boots sounded, and the women all exchanged a look. “Rain’s driven them inside. I guess we’d better start baking,” Mrs. Dalton said and heaved herself from her recliner.

Sabrina looked up and froze at the sight. Seven strong, very wet men stood in the doorway. The younger crew was shirtless, including Beck.

Their gazes locked and heated to a boil in 2.3 seconds. Her heart took off and she was helpless against her body’s reaction.

She still wanted him. Who wouldn’t? He was a god of a man, built to perfection with smoldering eyes, and they shared a child. At one time they’d given their bodies wholeheartedly.

The dark-haired woman was passing out towels. She handed one to Beck, and he shot her a smile. “Thank ya, Maya.”

A dark serpent slithered through Sabrina’s chest. Seeing her man smile for another woman, even if it was his sister-in-law—

What am I thinking? He’s not my man. He’s…just Owen’s father.

But he wasn’t looking at Sabrina as if he were nothing to her. He rubbed the towel over his golden-tan muscles with maddening slowness, holding her gaze the whole time. Finally he dipped his head, removed his hat and started toweling his hair. It was wet at the back, the strands darker and curling.

Her heart hitched.

Then he slung the towel around his neck and came forward, wet jeans, muddy boots and all.

“Your momma must be a very tolerant woman. Allowing you on the carpet with muddy boots?”

“She’ll holler at me, and I’ll take them off in a minute. I just wanted to say hi to this little guy.” His face creased in a grin as he squatted and looked into his son’s face.

Owen grunted and offered him the keys. Beck took them, unfazed by the drool. He brought them within a few inches of his mouth and pretended to chew them. Owen squealed in delight, and Sabrina couldn’t help it—she laughed.

Beck’s gaze flashed to her, the smile wiped off his face.

“What?” she asked, nervous.

“I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a long time. I…” His throat worked and his jaw ticked. “It’s nice, Sabrina. I always loved your laugh.”

She gaped at him. Had he liked her laugh? He’d never said anything like that to her. And she’d remember. At one time she’d hung the moon and stars on his words.

Her throat was tight.

He plopped down cross-legged and hauled Owen onto his lower legs that were mostly dry. She watched father and son exchange gibberish as well as a set of saliva-covered plastic keys.

Beck shifted his attention from Owen to her. When he settled a hand on her thigh, she gave a start. Electric heat shot up her leg straight to her pussy.

That’s how I got in trouble last time. I can’t react this way to him.

It was impossible to shut down her body, though. It had a control center of its own, and it seemed to be ruled by Beck Dalton. It was bad enough he was a glorious cowboy. Did he have to be a better dad than she’d ever dreamed possible?