The Cowboy and His Baby (7 page)

“I saw it right off,” Jordan admitted. “She was the spitting image of your baby pictures. I confronted Melissa about it straight out.”

Cody felt an icy chill settle over him as Jordan's earlier comment came back to him. He stood and
leaned down to look his brother in the eye. “And that was when? About eight months ago, you said?”

“Yes,” Jordan replied softly.

“And Melissa confirmed your suspicions right then and there?” he demanded, the hurt and anger of yet another betrayal slamming through him.

“Yes.”

“Damn you, Jordan,” he snapped, backing up to prevent slamming a fist in his brother's face. “How could you do that to me? How could you keep a secret like that? Didn't you think I had a right to know? Or was this another one of those big-brother-knows-best decisions?”

“She pleaded with me not to tell you,” Jordan said simply.

Cody stared at him incredulously. “And your loyalty was with her and not me?”

“Why the hell do you think I've done everything in my power to get you back here? I didn't want to lay this on you when you were in Wyoming. I wanted you here, so you could see for yourself. I didn't want you to accuse me or her of making it up just to get you back here.”

Cody wasn't buying it. “No, you were more concerned with keeping your promise to a woman who betrayed me than you were with doing what was right—giving me a chance to know my own child.” He turned on his heel and headed for the door, the box of kittens in tow. “I can't believe you would do something like this. Maybe family loyalty doesn't mean anything once you're a big corporate executive. Is that it, big brother?”

“Cody, you have it all wrong,” Kelly protested when she came back into the kitchen. Obviously she had overheard the tail end of the argument.

“I don't think so,” he snapped, shooting her a look of regret. “Don't expect me at the baptism, after all. In fact, forget you even know me.”

Kelly called out after him. He heard the screen door slam behind her, then Jordan murmuring something he couldn't quite make out. Whatever it was, though, it silenced her. When he looked back as he drove away, he saw them standing on the porch staring after him. He was sure it was only his imagination, but he thought he saw his brother wiping something that might have been tears from his cheeks.

He slowed the car momentarily and closed his eyes against the tide of anguish washing through him. Melissa had done it again. She had come between him and his family. He vowed then and there it would be the last time. This time he wouldn't run. He wouldn't let her control his destiny as he had before.

Forgetting all about his resolve to let his temper cool, an hour later he was in town, pounding on the Hortons' front door. Ken Horton, wearing a robe and slippers, opened it a crack. At the sight of Cody, he swung it wider, a welcoming smile spreading across his weathered face. Cody could see Velma's panicky expression as she stared over her husband's shoulder.

“Cody, what on earth?” Horton grumbled. “You trying to wake the whole neighborhood?”

“Where's Melissa?”

“She's not here,” he said as his wife tugged frantically on his arm. When he leaned down, she whispered something in his ear, something that wiped
any lingering expression of welcome from his face. “Go on home, Cody.”

“Not until you tell me where she is.”

“Don't make me call the sheriff.”

“Don't make me pound the information out of you,” Cody shot back belligerently.

Ken Horton regarded him sympathetically. “Boy, go on home and get some sleep. If you've got things to talk over with Melissa, do it in the morning, when you're calmer.”

Despite his earlier promise to himself to think things through clearly, Cody realized he didn't want to be calm when he talked to Melissa. He wanted this rage to keep him focused, to keep him immune to the sight of her. He wanted to have this out with her while he was hot with anger, not lust.

“If I have to knock on every door in town, I'm going to talk to her tonight,” he swore.

“There's nothing you have to say, nothing you need to know, that won't be settled just as readily in the morning,” Horton repeated, still calm, still intractable.

Cody considered it as much as an admission that he and Melissa had serious issues to resolve, such as his relationship to that baby. He gathered from the warning look Horton shot at his now tearful wife that they didn't entirely agree on whether Cody had the right to know the truth.

“Where can I find her in the morning?” he asked finally, resigned to the delay. They all knew he wouldn't tear through town, creating yet another ruckus he'd never live down.

“She gets to work about nine,” her father told him.

“I'm not talking to her at Dolan's,” he said. “I don't want the whole town knowing our business.”

Horton seemed about to offer an alternative when Velma piped up. “That'll just have to do,” she said. “We're not telling you where she lives.”

He couldn't decide if Velma was worried about him throttling Melissa or if she was simply being protective of her daughter's secret. Because he wasn't sure, he backed down.

“If you talk to her, let her know I'll be by the minute the doors open. Tell her to arrange with Eli for someone to cover for her unless she wants her personal life broadcast to everyone in town.”

To his surprise, Ken Horton held out his hand. When Cody shook it, Melissa's father said, “For whatever it's worth, Cody, I think it's about time you two got everything out in the open. The two of you had something special once. Melissa's been punished enough for making one foolish mistake.”

He gave his wife a defiant look. “And a man has a right to claim his child.”

Velma Horton groaned and covered her face with her hands. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Cody wondered at the fear he'd seen in her eyes right before she placed her hands over them. She'd had the same terrified expression earlier in the day. He'd always thought Velma Horton liked him. Now she seemed to think he was some sort of a monster.

Was she blaming him for running out on her pregnant daughter? Or was it something more? He wondered what could possibly be behind the expression he'd read in her eyes.

Eventually, as he slowly walked back to his pickup, it came to him. She was actually afraid that he'd come home to take his baby away from Melissa.

Was that what he intended? He sat in his truck on the dark street in front of the Hortons' house, his head resting on the steering wheel. He honestly hadn't thought beyond discovering the truth and confronting Melissa with it.

Obviously, it was a good thing Ken Horton had prevented him from seeing Melissa tonight. He needed to get his thoughts in order. He needed to have a plan. For once in his life he couldn't act on impulse. Too many lives were at stake, his own, Melissa's, and that darling little girl's.

His heart ached every time he thought about his daughter. His arms felt empty, just as they did when Dani climbed out of them or he had to turn Angela back over to Jessie or Luke. He wondered about that vacant place he'd thought would always be inside him and realized that there was someone who could fill it, a child of his own.

Tomorrow he would claim her. He realized he didn't even know her name or how old she was or whether she could walk or talk. So many precious details. He sighed. Tomorrow he would fill in the gaps.

Tomorrow he would finally experience what it was like to feel like a father. Right now it was all too abstract, but in the morning he would hold his child in his arms. Whatever else happened between him and Melissa, he vowed that nothing would ever rip his baby away from him again.

H
er mother had warned her. In fact, the first thing out of Velma's mouth when Melissa had dropped off her daughter for the day had been a detailed description of Cody's late-night visit. Based on Velma's panicked reaction, Melissa had been tempted to take Sharon Lynn and flee. She knew, though, that in his present mood Cody would only track her down.

Besides, hadn't she resolved just last night to tell him herself about Sharon Lynn? The decision on the timing had just been taken out of her hands. Of course, that also meant that his anger had had all night to simmer. She walked to work, dreading the confrontation that was clearly only minutes away.

She meant to ask Eli for an hour or so off to deal with a personal matter. She meant to be outside, on the sidewalk, when Cody arrived. She meant to do everything possible to ensure their conversation took place in private, away from prying eyes and potential gossip. She meant to be calm, reasonable, even conciliatory.

Cody took any chance of that out of her hands.

Before the door to the drugstore fully closed behind her, Melissa heard the bell ring loudly as the door slammed open again. Without even turning around, she sensed it was Cody. The air practically crackled with tension. She pivoted reluctantly and found him so close she could almost feel his breath on her face. She surveyed him slowly from head to toe, trying to gauge exactly how furious he was.

He looked exhausted. His mouth was set in a grim line. His shoulders were stiff. His hands were balled into fists. He also looked as if he'd slept in his clothes, perhaps in his truck, right in front of the drugstore. That would explain why he'd appeared right on her heels.

Despite all that, her heart flipped over. Her pulse scrambled. She had the most absurd desire to fling herself straight into his arms.

But she couldn't. More precisely, she didn't dare. It would only complicate an already impossible situation. She sucked in a deep breath and waited. The first move was going to have to be his.

As she waited, she was suddenly aware of every sound, every movement. She could hear the hum of the electric clock, the rattle of plastic bottles and
ping, ping, ping
of pills being counted out as Eli filled a prescription in the back, the swish of a mop as Mabel dusted the floor. Mabel rounded the aisle of shelves, caught sight of the silent tableau at the front of the store and stopped and stared.

Melissa felt like screaming. Mabel's presence was anticipated, but unfortunate. Of all the people in town, she was the most likely to spread word of every last detail of any encounter between Melissa and
Cody. Her pale eyes sparkled as she watched the two of them.

Cody tipped his hat to Mabel, but didn't extend even that much courtesy to Melissa before latching on to her arm and practically hauling her into the storage room, past the startled gaze of Eli Dolan. Cody kicked the door shut behind them, plunging them into darkness.

“Dammit, Cody, what do you think you're doing?” Melissa demanded, trying to wrench herself free and reach the light switch at the same time. She couldn't succeed at doing either one.

“We need to talk,” he declared, seemingly oblivious to the lack of light.

“Fine. Then let's do it like two civilized adults. There's no need for your caveman routine.”

He was close enough that she could see that his eyes sparked fire, but he released his grip on her. Melissa felt along the wall until she found the switch. She flipped it on, illuminating the room that was small under the best of conditions, but claustrophobic with Cody pacing in the cramped space.

Somehow he managed to neatly avoid the stacks of just-delivered boxes, metal shelves of inventory and a disorderly array of cleaning supplies. Melissa had the feeling that he was practically daring the inanimate objects to give him an excuse to knock them all to the floor. She couldn't recall ever seeing him quite so angry or quite so speechless. Cody's glib tongue was known far and wide, especially among women.

She kept silent and waited. Finally he stopped in front of her, his hands shoved in his pockets, legs spread, a belligerent expression on his handsome face.

“Whose baby is it?” he demanded in a tone that made her hackles rise.

Melissa made up her mind then and there that she wasn't giving in to his bullying or to any coaxing he might decide to try when that failed. Maybe that had been the problem in the past. She'd been too darned easy on him, too much in love to ever say no. She hoisted her chin a challenging notch. They were going to have a conversation on her terms for a change.

“Good morning to you, too, Cody.”

Cody's gaze narrowed at the sarcasm. “Dammit, I asked you a straight question. The least you could do is give me a straight answer.”

She wasn't sure where she found the courage to face him down, but she did. “Why should I, when you're acting like a bully?”

“I think I have a right to act any damn way I please.”

“No,” she said softly. “You don't. I told you before that we can discuss this like two civilized adults or I can go into the other room and go to work.”

He raked his hand through his hair in a gesture that was vintage Cody. She'd always been able to tell exactly how frustrated or annoyed he was by the disheveled state of his hair.

“If that baby's mine, I have a right to know,” he retorted, his voice starting to climb.

“I was under the impression that you already know the answer to that. You certainly carried on as if you did when you dropped in on my parents last night.”

He didn't look even vaguely chagrined by the reminder of his outrageous behavior on her parents' doorstep. “I want to hear it from you,” he snapped. “I want to hear why you kept it from me. If I am that
child's father, I should have been told about her way back when you first discovered you were pregnant. I had a right to know. We should have been making decisions together.”

Melissa met his gaze unflinchingly. “You gave up any rights the day you left town without so much as a goodbye. You never got in touch. I didn't know where you were. How was I supposed to let you know?”

“Jordan knew where I was, but you made damned sure he wouldn't tell me, didn't you?”