Lily's Secrets [Elk Creek 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (28 page)

Wyatt raised his questioning glance to Lily.

“He said ‘Dad.’”

“Yes. I’m…I’m your
Tdaw
.” Wyatt opened his arms the way Lily had done before him.

Little Wyatt reluctantly left Lily’s side, inching forward.

“It’s okay, honey. He won’t hurt you.”

That his own son might be afraid of him pierced Wyatt’s heart.

Little Wyatt stopped right in front of him, his gaze searching but not afraid, and Wyatt felt himself relax. He held himself still, however, when the little boy reached out to grasp his hair.

He glanced back at his mother with a look of surprise. “It’s soft and light like mine!”

“Yes, just like yours,” Lily said.

Wyatt heard her voice crack on the last word, too overwhelmed by his son to understand exactly how the reunion was affecting her.

Little Wyatt investigated further, staring into Wyatt’s eyes and looking back at his “Uncle” Dakota before returning his gaze back to Wyatt.

Before Dakota, Little Wyatt probably hadn’t met too many people with blue eyes like his own and certainly none with blond hair. Wyatt reckoned the little boy was as flummoxed by Wyatt as Wyatt was flummoxed b
y him.

Little Wyatt slid his hand from Wyatt’s hair to rest his palm against his father’s cheek and giggled. “It tickles.”

Wyatt smiled and raised a hand to rub his other cheek. “I was so excited about meeting you I forgot to shave.”

“I want to shave!”

“You’re too young yet, but when the time comes, I’ll show you how.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Wyatt couldn’t hold back and wrapped his arms around the child. He pulled him close and shut his eyes tight as Little Wyatt brought his arms up to return Wyatt’s hug.

The tears came then and, unashamed, Wyatt did nothing to stop them. “My son.”

* * * *

Dakota could not breathe.

Even after he stumbled out of the teepee, he still found himself gasping for breath and leaning against the buffalo hide as if someone had their hands wrapped around his throat and was choking off his air.

He had not realized how arrogant and self-righteous his behavior was. Not until Dyami expressed his displeasure with that one withering look had he understood the damage his secrets had caused. Not until he had seen Little Wyatt in the arms of his mother and father had he realized how many people he had hurt with his misguided morals and perceptions.

Dakota realized he had manipulated and taken advantage of many in his quest for the perfect solution. He had abused his position as Dyami’s grandson and especially taken advantage of the women of his tribe in his conspiracy.

They had, however, been only too happy to keep Little Wyatt and raise him as their own, more than willing to become his substitute mother and aunts. They had not asked too many questions about Lily and had not looked any further for the truth than what Dakota had fed them. They, like Dakota, had wanted to believe that they were doing the right thing, the best thing for the child. Some of the women had never fully accepted Lily as one of their own even as they had cherished her child.

Dakota had thought he protected someone too young and vulnerable to take care of and protect himself. He had allowed the memories of his own childhood pain to interfere with his decisions involving Little Wyatt.

Now, however, his actions were coming back to haunt him.

How was he ever going to make it up to Lily and Wyatt? How was he ever going to make it up to Dyami and Little Wyatt?

“You left.”

Surprised, Dakota jerked around to see Lily standing beside him.

“I didn’t think it was possible to sneak up on you.” She smiled. “You must have a lot on your mind.”

When she reached out to put a hand on his cheek, Dakota retreated. He saw the flash of hurt in her eyes, but he did not deserve her sympathy and he knew he would only hurt her and her family more if he stayed around her.

Lily let her hand drop, but made no move to leave. She simply smiled and asked, “You’re not thinking again of leaving us, are you?”

“Do you not think that would be best for all concerned?”

“I do not.”

“Lily—”

“Would you deny Little Wyatt your company?”

“He has you and Wyatt to take care of him, as it should be.”

“But you are
Say-gee
Dakota. He needs you just as much as he needs us, maybe more so. It would be traumatic taking his only link to the tribe away so suddenly. You need to stay around, with us, if only for continuity.”

Dakota could not help himself. He was greedy and asked, “Is that the only reason you want me to stay around?”

Lily took a step closer and this time she did put her hand on his face. She searched his gaze with hers, unflinching.

How could he have thought that Little Wyatt needed anyone except his mother and father to protect him? They were solid and strong and they were the little boy’s blood.

“You know it’s not the only reason, Dakota.
We
want you to stay around—Wyatt and I—because we love you.”

For a long moment Dakota did not say anything. He could not, certain that he would say or do the wrong thing.

He would stay, he told himself, but only long enough to help Little Wyatt become accustomed to being away from the reservation, Dyami, and the rest of the tribe. He would stay only long enough to say good-bye to them all.

* * * *

He followed as close behind their party as he could without them picking up his trail. He was as good a tracker as anyone, even that Indian. Yet, once they all reached their destination, he regretted his decision to keep an eye on the threesome the moment he understood where they were going and
who
they were going to visit.

Lily had a child.

If he had not panicked when Lily wouldn’t wake up and he had finished what he had started with her five years ago, he might have been tempted to believe the boy was his. The boy looked about the right age, after all. He, however, could not be the boy’s father no matter how much he wished it. Still, admitting the obvious, that Wyatt was the child’s father, stuck in his craw. Even from this distance, though, he could see the tell-tale coloring and features and couldn’t deny his enemy’s paternity. The boy was a miniature version of his father, all the more reason to hate both of them and the Indian who had brought them all together.

Was this why the savage had been snooping around Wyatt and Lily’s property weeks ago?

No matter, except that now the child the Indian had evidently been keeping under wraps was just one more person obstructing his plans, blocking his path to Lily.

If he didn’t think the woman was worth the trouble, he would have given up on this errand of making her his a long time ago.

For the last year he had been getting by on his memories, wrapping them around himself like a comfortable old blanket for that feeling of security and warmth that he craved from a woman. Next to being in a female, feeling that tight clutch of inner muscles around his cock when he pumped inside her pussy, there was nothing like that feeling of being home and feeling safe—the feeling he had gotten from Lily all those years ago.

Despite the brevity of their encounter, despite the abrupt ending of it, he knew with Lily he would always have these feelings and more. She was nothing like his wife had been and he knew she would bear him worthier children, worthier than the one she bore Wyatt and worthier than his own.

He shook himself at the fantasy and gritted his teeth.

There was no help for it now. The child was just one more thorn in his side. It wasn’t insurmountable. He would take care of the boy when he took care of Wyatt and his Indian friend.

Nothing and no one was going to stop him finally having Lily.

“Hello! Anybody home?” Rusty entered the house a second before knocking on the front door and without waiting for a response.

“Don’t step on the—”

The warning came too late to prevent Rusty’s boot crashing down on one of Little Wyatt’s most recent gifts.

“What the?” Rusty lifted his foot and looked under it as if he had stepped in cow dung.

Wyatt bent to retrieve what was left of the toy tin soldier one of their neighbors had brought Little Wyatt just a few days ago.

The house had been filled with company nonstop since they had arrived back at the farm last week and shared the news of Little Wyatt’s homecoming with Thayne and Maia Malloy. Accompanying the constant stream of visitors came the gifts of toys, blankets, clothes, and childhood furniture—of both the handmade and mass-produced, store-bought variety.

It was all more than Lily or Wyatt could have ever expected and much more than one little boy could ever use in one lifetime.

Wyatt was frankly overwhelmed by some of the townsfolk’s generosity.

“I had to come by and see with my own eyes this little nipper everyone’s talking about.”

“Are they really?” Wyatt picked up another couple of stray toys and cleared a path as he led Rusty into the house proper.

“Is who really what?”

“Is everyone really talking about…our son?”

“I reckon he’s the talk of the town, yep, along with your Indian friend.”

Wyatt didn’t think Dakota’s novelty would ever wear off, at least not for the people of Elk Creek. He looked forward to a time when he, Lily, Little Wyatt, and Dakota could go into town without turning every head, but he knew he needed to be realistic for all concerned.

Being a father was nothing like Wyatt had thought it would be. He hadn’t reckoned it would be easy or all fun and games. Like his and Lily’s marriage, being the father of a little boy was work and an adjustment, not to mention a constant learning experience. Wyatt just hadn’t expected to…like it so much. He hadn’t expected that one little boy could make such a difference in his life or that he would love Little Wyatt so much that he could barely breathe sometimes for fear of losing him.

Of course, reclaiming and raising a little boy who had until recently been nurtured at the bosom of so-called savages was a unique occurrence for even large, more cosmopolitan places like cities back East, much less a small town like Elk Creek. Wyatt’s life, as a result, had been turned topsy-turvy to say the least.

“So, where is Little Wyatt?” Rusty smiled as if he liked the sound of the name and it made Wyatt smile before he had a sudden flash of Brand. His reaction to Little Wyatt had been a far sight less hospitable and generous than Rusty’s.

“What’s the matter?” Rusty asked.

Wyatt shook his head as if to rid himself of the unpleasant memory. “Nothing worth mentioning, I reckon.”

Rusty stared at him as if he knew Wyatt was lying. Finally, he gave Wyatt a one-armed hug and squeezed his shoulder. “Hey, you can’t please everyone no matter what you do. Little Wyatt is your blood and no one around these parts is more important than that.”

Wyatt nodded, surprised and moved my Rusty’s sympathy. He reckoned he shouldn’t have been too surprised. Out of all of his friends, Rusty had always been the most understanding and kind. Some took his kindness for weakness, but Wyatt knew better. He knew there was a core of strength in Rusty that his bright red hair and wide, easy smile belied.

Besides, he reckoned if he was having a time becoming accustomed to Little Wyatt’s arrival, some of his friends and neighbors would be, too, and act accordingly. He just hadn’t expected Brand to be so hostile to the idea of Wyatt and Lily’s son. It was almost as if he had a personal vendetta against the little boy.

How was it possible for someone who hadn’t spent quite five years in the world to warrant such animosity?

“Lily just put him down for the evening,” Wyatt told Rusty, eager to change the subject.

“I bet she watches him like a hawk since he’s been home.”

Rusty didn’t know the half of it. Lily was finding it hard to let the boy out of her sight for longer than it took her to cook a meal or tend to any of her other household chores. It was as if she was afraid they’d lose him again.

Not if I have anything to say about it.

However, Wyatt was finding it just as hard to assure his wife that they were all safe and sound together on the farm and no one was taking Little Wyatt anywhere. Maybe if he hadn’t failed to live up to his promises to her when he’d allowed some savage to invade their home and take her and Wyatt away from him, he’d be more confident about setting Lily’s mind to rest.

Wyatt remembered that look of panic flash through Lily’s eyes when he’d told her there was nothing for him to forgive. It struck him even now, so many years after her ordeal, and months since she had been home, that she still wasn’t telling him the entire story about what had happened to her before she’d wound up with the Kiowas. There was something off about her portrayal of the person behind her attack. Something didn’t add up.

“So, why Little Wyatt and not Junior?” Rusty asked.

Again, Wyatt shook his head, trying to purge his misgivings. Nothing good could come of dwelling in the past, as Dakota always reminded him. He had to move forward and look toward the future. He had not just a wife to take care of and think about, but a child.

“He’s not really a Junior,” Wyatt said.

“Not really a Junior?”

Wyatt perfectly understood Rusty’s confusion the same way he appreciated Lily’s reasoning behind bestowing their son with an Indian middle name. How did he explain it all to Rusty though, someone who didn’t know their story?

Rusty shrugged. “Oh well, I reckon you have your reasons. I just wanted to meet the little fella and see how you were adjusting to fatherhood.”

Wyatt wiggled one of Little Wyatt’s favorite toys back and forth in front of Rusty’s face and they both laughed.

“Yeah, I get it. My mama and daddy raised seven of us, so I know it ain’t easy.”

“We’ll survive.”

“That you will.” Rusty turned and headed for the front door.

Wyatt followed him. He thought twice about inviting Rusty to stay for a while to shoot the breeze, but frankly he was plumb tired from the last few whirlwind days of visits. If he never entertained or played host to another guest it would be too soon.