Книга - Baby’s First Homecoming

Baby's First Homecoming
Cathy McDavid


Bringing Baby HomeGiving away her baby for adoption was the second biggest mistake of Sierra Powell’s life. But after a miraculous turn of events, she is reunited with her toddler son and they return to Arizona. Too bad Sierra’s first mistake is waiting for her there—Clay Duvall, a much too charming cowboy. And onetime love of her life. Clay is not about to let go of the opportunity to raise his flesh and blood.He proposes co-parenting—meaning Sierra and Jamie have to move close to him. Real close, as in onto his property. As far as Sierra’s concerned, he has no say in her son’s life. Clay was the one who walked out on their relationship!Will the sparks between Clay and Sierra set off the formerly feuding Powell and Duvall clans…or will they rekindle an old passion?







Bringing Baby Home

Giving away her baby for adoption was the second biggest mistake of Sierra Powell’s life. But after a miraculous turn of events, she is reunited with her toddler son and they return to Arizona. Too bad Sierra’s first mistake is waiting for her there—Clay Duvall, a much too charming cowboy. And onetime love of her life.

Clay is not about to let go of the opportunity to raise his flesh and blood. He proposes co-parenting—meaning Sierra and Jamie have to move close to him. Real close, as in onto his property. As far as Sierra’s concerned, he has no say in her son’s life; Clay was the one who walked out on their relationship.

Will the sparks between Clay and Sierra set off the formerly feuding Powell and Duvall clans…or will they rekindle an old passion?


She smelled as good as he remembered.

Sierra raised her arms, hesitated, then slid them around his neck, returning his hug.

Yes, nice. Really nice.

Wait, no. Clay reminded himself this was a friendly hug between two people whose only concern was the well-being of their son.

His body had other ideas, as did his hands, which skimmed her back over the material of her too bulky, too thick sweater.

He couldn’t stop himself. Her curves were too perfect, her scent too intoxicating, her skin like satin.

Her skin?

When had his hand moved to caress her cheek?

“Tell me no.” He bent his head, his lips seeking hers.

She didn’t. She couldn’t, not with him kissing her.


Dear Reader,

I’m often asked where I get ideas for my books. I have to admit, many of them come from real life. Not my own—I’m actually kind of boring. But other people’s lives, particularly people in the news. A few years ago I read a story about a woman who adopted a child and then later returned him to the adoption agency. I was fascinated and couldn’t help wondering how the birth mother felt, if she even learned about her son being returned.

When I first developed my Mustang Valley series, I knew immediately that I wanted to use this real-life story idea for my third book, Baby’s First Homecoming. Sierra Powell is a woman who made a terrible mistake when she gave up her infant son for adoption, and now has the chance to rectify it. She isn’t counting on the baby’s father, Clay Duvall, being anywhere around when she brings her toddler son home to meet her family.

Of course, he is there, and she must confess she not only had their baby in secret, she gave him up for adoption. It isn’t an easy road for Sierra and Clay. Along the way, they learn not only how to co-parent their son; they also realize they were meant to be together always. I hope you enjoy their journey and that it touches a place in your heart.

Warmest wishes,

Cathy McDavid

P.S. I always enjoy hearing from readers. You can contact me at www.cathymcdavid.com.


Baby’s First Homecoming

Cathy McDavid







To my son, Clay. You were without a doubt the cutest, most charming little boy there ever was.

One day, I looked away for just a minute,

and you grew up into a fine, talented,

handsome young man. I am so very proud

of you and all your accomplishments.

Love you always, Mom.


Contents

Chapter One (#u14d7e78c-1ae3-5d9b-9330-147506b07e30)

Chapter Two (#ua8b0209a-f271-5c98-ad98-be38be3e10a2)

Chapter Three (#ue19b3f10-774e-5868-ae6d-b0169c44f31a)

Chapter Four (#uea9ef86d-9c02-5d6d-9c00-075ba0a2e5c9)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

The Powell family home, more than a century old, had been transformed. Sierra Powell stood beside the open door of her Toyota SUV, assessing every change, comparing them to how she’d last seen the house, in shocking disrepair after ten years of chronic neglect.

Trees were trimmed, the yard’s abundant desert flora and fauna manicured to tidy perfection. A fresh coat of dune-colored paint on the house’s exterior gleamed to eye-squinting intensity in the midafternoon sun. Terra-cotta bricks lined the walkways to the front courtyard and back patio, resembling spectators at a parade.

The refurbishings pleased Sierra. It had taken a long time for her family to rebound from the emotional and financial ruin left in the wake of her mother’s illness and death. These improvements to the house, she knew, mirrored the ones in her father and two brothers.

She envied them. The Powell men were healed and happy and well on the way to creating wonderful, exciting new lives for themselves while she had never been so terrified of the future or felt so alone.

What if her family rejected her? They certainly had good cause—she’d practically shunned them for almost two years. Now she’d returned, not just for her brothers’ double wedding but to ask for her family’s help, their love, their support, and, if they could see fit to give it, their forgiveness.

It wouldn’t be easy. Sierra had made a lot of mistakes.

She stared at the back patio, working up the courage to head inside where her family and future sisters-in-law waited. Everyone was expecting her, possibly intending to confront her. There would be questions, especially when they saw the unexpected “guest” Sierra had brought with her and heard her request to—temporarily, she assured herself—move home.

By some miracle she’d been able to stand outside this long without being noticed. Maybe no one was home. She immediately dismissed that idea. Someone would be here to greet her. Her father at least, who’d insisted she come home for her brothers’ double wedding.

Her brothers, Gavin and Ethan, could be elsewhere on the ranch—leading trail rides, teaching riding classes or otherwise making themselves scarce so she and her father could have a few minutes alone. She had hurt him the worst and owed him the biggest apology. It was he who had the power to grant or deny her request to stay.

Sierra might have been lost in thought indefinitely if not for a noise coming from inside her car. She opened the rear driver’s-side door and stuck her head inside.

“Hey, handsome. You awake? How was your nap?”

Her son waved his pudgy fists and broke into a delighted grin that displayed six new teeth. His hazel eyes, the image of his father’s, beamed at her as he babbled incoherently.

Her heart promptly broke open and spilled a torrent of love as it did every time he smiled or gurgled or nuzzled into her neck and sighed with baby contentment.

“Thank God I have you back,” she murmured for the thousandth time, a catch in her voice, the wound within her still raw.

She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve this reprieve. This gift. This chance to right past wrongs. But she was bound and determined to turn her life around and make the best one possible for her and her son. If she needed to get on her hands and knees and beg her family, she would. He was that important to her.

“Let’s clean you up a bit before we meet the folks.” Using a cotton cloth, she wiped the smudges of dirt from his face and hands. “There. All better.”

He kicked his feet, which were clad in white socks and brand-new red sneakers she’d recently purchased. In fact, she’d recently purchased all his clothes, the car seat, a portable crib and every necessity a child his age needed.

She reached onto the seat beside him and retrieved his favorite toy from where it had fallen. He grabbed the plastic pony and waved it in the air as if to say, Where have you been? I was looking for you, and stuffed the pony’s entire head in his mouth.

With trembling fingers, Sierra unbuckled the car-seat straps. The distraction of caring for her son had worn off. She was once again dreading the prospect of facing her family.

They love you, she told herself. They will love Jamie, too.

But was it enough to make up for the last two years of shameful avoidance?

Drawing a deep breath, she hefted Jamie into her arms. When he was securely balanced on her hip and the diaper bag was slung over her shoulder, she picked her way slowly up the brick-lined walk to the back patio.

The kitchen door loomed ahead, the outline wavering as if she were seeing it though a very long tunnel. Her flats made scuffing sounds on the dirt and then clip-clopped across the Saltillo tiles, each beat matching her pounding heart.

Thank goodness she didn’t have to worry about Jamie’s father being anywhere near Mustang Valley. The last she’d heard, which was soon after their too-brief affair ended, he was married and living in Austin, Texas. Sierra had taken a risk returning to Arizona, but a small one so long as he stayed far, far away.

And she needed that distance, for her sake more than their son’s. His betrayal—she couldn’t think of it any other way—had shattered her. Granted, she’d been naive. That in no way made it acceptable for him to take advantage of her.

She reached the kitchen door and found it slightly ajar. Odd.

Knocking, she called, “Hello! Dad?” When there was no answer, she knocked again.

The door drifted open a few more inches. Sierra nudged it the rest of the way and stepped tentatively inside.

“Hello. Anybody home?”

The only answer she received was the soft humming of the refrigerator and the whirr of the slowly twirling ceiling fan over the kitchen table.

She frowned. This was more than strange. Her family knew she was coming. Heck, she’d called her father not an hour ago letting him know her anticipated arrival time.

She ventured farther in. It was then she noticed a large sheet cake in the center of the counter. Inching closer, she read the message scrawled with blue icing.

Welcome Home, Sissy. Her family’s pet name for her.

Was it possible they weren’t angry with her after all?

A dam broke, and the relief washing over her was so intense it stole every ounce of strength from her knees. She reached for the counter to steady herself before the combined weight of Jamie and the diaper bag dragged her to the floor.

“Surprise!” The resounding chorus of voices erupted from nowhere, echoing loudly off the walls. People, so many of them, converged on her from around corners and down the hall.

No, no!

Sierra’s entire body jerked in response, out of alarm and fear. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

“You’re here, honey!”

“Hey, Sissy.”

“We’ve missed you!”

Jamie screwed up his mouth and started to wail. Holding on to her, he hid his beet-red face in her sweater. His beloved toy pony dropped to the floor, along with the diaper bag.

The room went instantly silent, like a TV when the mute button was pressed. Even Jamie stopped crying and turned teary eyes to the gathering of people gawking at him.

A young girl of about six or seven whom Sierra didn’t recognize broke the silence with an excited, “You have a baby! Can I hold him?” She scrambled over to Sierra, her angelic face alight. “I’m Isa, your niece. Or I’m going to be your niece when my mama marries your brother.”

“Hello, Isa.” Sierra had trouble speaking and cleared her throat. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Actually, Sierra had heard only a smattering about her future stepniece. She might have heard more if she’d answered her family’s phone calls or read their emails.

Glancing around the kitchen, she took in the puzzled and shocked expressions on everyone’s faces. Except for Isa, they kept their distance, as if waiting for someone else to break the ice.

What had she expected? She’d brought a fourteen-month-old child home with her, and had given them no warning.

Her oldest brother, Gavin, studied her with his usual seriousness. As a girl, she had been intimidated by that look. Living on her own since she was seventeen apparently made no difference.

Ethan, younger than Gavin by two years, nodded encouragingly at her. He’d always been there for her—except for when their mother had died almost a decade ago, and he’d run off to join the marines.

Everyone else was a blur. Some she recognized, like Ethan’s fiancée, Caitlin. Others, she didn’t.

“I like babies.” Isa reached up to tickle Jamie under his chin.

He flailed and turned his head away from her. Isa pouted.

“He’s a little shy,” Sierra explained.

“Well, well.” Her father finally came forward, breaking the trance that had fallen over everyone. The reserved smile he presented reassured Sierra not in the least. “Why don’t you introduce us to this young man.”

“Dad,” Sierra said shakily, “this is Jamie. My…my son.” Her hand instinctively cradled the side of the baby’s head as if to shield him.

Her father’s reserved smile dissolved into one that warmed her through and through. “I have a grandson. Oh, Sierra.” He opened his arms.

She went to him, let him hug her and Jamie and, temporarily, set right a world that had been completely out of control for almost two years.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured into his shirtfront.

“Don’t be. Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

She wanted to believe him, and dared to let herself.

Jamie squirmed and started to cry.

Sierra drew back, reluctant to leave the comfort of her father’s embrace. “He’s hungry. I’d better fix him something to eat.”

“Can I hold him while you do?” her father asked.

“He doesn’t like—” She’d started to say strangers. Not wanting to hurt her father’s feelings, she changed it to “New people.”

He held open his arms. Jamie stared at them, a dubious frown knitting his otherwise perfectly smooth brow. When his grandfather clapped his hands and held them open again, Jamie twisted and reached for Sierra.

Her father’s smile fell.

“He’ll get used to you in a day or two,” she reassured him, though, in truth, she didn’t know what to expect. She and Jamie were still getting to know each other.

Her brothers came over next. Ethan’s hug was enthusiastic. Gavin’s less so. He loved her, but he was also angry at her for the pain she’d caused them and slower to let go of hard feelings.

“I’m so happy for you both,” she said. “I can’t wait for the wedding.”

That seemed to ease the tension. More introductions were made. Sierra greeted Caitlin warmly, having known Ethan’s fiancée since grade school. Sage, Gavin’s fiancée, impressed Sierra with her genuineness.

“Your son is beautiful.” Sage patted Jamie’s leg.

He jerked his leg out of her reach.

Sierra smiled apologetically. “He’s hungry and a little cranky.”

While she warmed a jar of baby vegetable stew in the microwave, Jamie, still sitting on her hip, polished off a bottle of apple juice. Everyone began talking again, thank goodness.

After a while, Gavin’s daughter, Cassie, came over. “I’m a good babysitter if you ever need one.”

“Thanks.” Sierra patted the girl’s shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She hadn’t met Cassie before. The twelve-year-old had only come to live at the ranch last summer. Sierra noticed the affectionate glances Gavin sent his daughter from across the room. Maybe one day she’d have the same loving relationship with Jamie.

“It’s so nice to have another baby in the family,” Caitlin said, joining Sierra at the table where she fed Jamie.

“Another baby?”

“Sage is four months along, and I’m two.”

“You’re both pregnant!”

Sage dropped into the remaining empty chair. “Yes, so I guess it’s a good thing the wedding’s soon! I wouldn’t fit into my dress otherwise.”

“Congratulations.” Sierra observed the joy in their faces and felt a pang of regret. Her face had been a mask of sorrow all during her pregnancy.

“Is Jamie’s father in San Francisco?” Caitlin asked.

Sierra tensed. She’d prepared herself for this question on the long drive. “He’s not part of mine or Jamie’s lives. I’m raising him alone.”

She couldn’t tell her family the truth. If they ever found out Jamie’s father was the son of the man who’d stolen their land and sold it to an investor, they’d disown Sierra and toss her and Jamie out on their rear ends.

Near the end of the meal, Sierra excused herself and went to the hall bathroom to clean up Jamie and change him.

On her way back, she was stopped outside the kitchen by a chorus of hearty welcomes and the sound of a voice that instantly ignited wave after wave of panic.

Clay Duvall.

Impossible! This couldn’t be happening.

He was in Texas. And even if he wasn’t, her family hated him. He wouldn’t be allowed on the property, much less to set foot in the house.

“Sissy, come see who’s here,” her brother Ethan called to her.

She trembled so violently, she nearly dropped Jamie. He made it worse by wriggling.

“Hey.” Ethan came around the corner. “Is something wrong?”

“What’s he doing here?” she hissed.

“Clay? He came to see you.”

“Why?”

“He’s a friend.”

“No, he isn’t. His dad cheated us. You hate him. We all do.”

“Not anymore.”

“Since when?” she squeaked.

“Since we captured the wild mustang last fall. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you after the party.” Ethan hooked her by the elbow and gave a tug.

She refused to budge.

“Come on. You haven’t seen Clay since before Mom died.”

Not true.

Ethan all but dragged her and Jamie into the kitchen where she stumbled into her chair, praying for invisibility. Her family and Clay were friends again? How could that be? In every scenario she’d devised, he’d been a thousand miles away.

He strode farther into the kitchen.

Please, please, don’t come over here, she silently prayed.

Of course, he did, and she steeled herself.

“Hi, Sierra.” His smile was friendly, his voice deep and honeyed like she remembered.

She looked up at him—how could she not?—and stared into the face of her baby’s father. Her heart, open with love for her son and the recent reconciliation with her family, promptly closed tight.

* * *

SHE HAD A BABY.

Clay’s stomach clenched as if someone had sucker-punched him with the business end of a baseball bat.

From the moment he’d learned Sierra was returning to Mustang Valley, he’d imagined them picking up where they’d left off. She’d generously overlook his incredible lack of judgment and brief, disastrous marriage, and they’d fall into each other’s arms.

Only her arms were full of a bouncing baby boy. There went the happy-you’re-home kiss he’d been counting on.

Instead, he squeezed her upper arm. “Good to see you again.”

She muttered something about how nice it was to see him, too.

The boy’s head tipped back, and his inquisitive gaze fixed on Clay’s face. There was something about his eyes that struck a familiar chord, though Clay couldn’t quite identify why.

Maybe he was wrong, and the kid wasn’t hers. She could be a nanny or something.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“My, um, my…” She glanced down at the baby, held him closer. “My son.”

Clay swallowed. So much for his nanny theory.

Which meant she’d been with a man. A man besides him. Jealousy sliced through him. Not that he had any claim on her. He’d forfeited it the second he’d stupidly left Sierra in order to reunite with Jessica, his then ex-fiancée and later wife.

In hindsight, hurting Sierra had been inevitable.

If Gavin and Ethan knew what he’d done to their little sister, he’d lose a lot more than their friendship. An arm. The use of his legs. And that was just for starters.

“What’s his name?” Clay asked.

The baby babbled as if answering. He really was an appealing tyke. Clay felt an unfamiliar, but not unpleasant, tug inside his chest. He’d always liked kids despite having little experience with them and would be a father today if things had gone differently.

His loss still pained him.

Probably the reason he felt drawn to Sierra’s boy.

She said nothing, acting as though she hadn’t heard him. Loading a spoon with some vile-looking mush out of a jar, she tried to feed it to the baby. Wisely, the kid shook his head and grimaced. The stuff did look awful.

“No name, buddy?”

“It’s Jamie,” Isa piped up. She and Cassie had been standing behind Sierra and trying to distract the baby with funny faces. “Isn’t that a cool name?”

“Yeah,” Clay agreed, receiving yet another invisible punch to the stomach. “Cool.”

His grandfather’s name had been Jamie, short for Jamieson. Did Sierra know?

Yes, he’d told her all about his summers spent in Montana and about returning for his grandfather’s funeral.

Coincidence?

It had to be.

“Nice to meet you, Jamie,” Clay said and leaned down, extending his index finger.

The baby broke into a wide, rather comical grin and grabbed Clay’s finger, holding it as he were shaking hands.

“He likes you,” Cassie blurted.

“The feeling’s mutual.” The tug inside Clay’s chest grew stronger, and he grinned back at the baby. Turning his head, he discovered Sierra’s face mere inches from him. “Cute baby.”

She stared back at him, her brown eyes wide with terror.

His grin dissolved, and he involuntarily straightened. The moment he did, she practically leapt out of her chair.

“I’d better clean this up.” Grabbing the jar of baby food and empty bottle with her free hand, she cut past Isa and made a hasty beeline for the sink, Jamie riding on her hip.

What exactly had happened?

He would have understood anger. He’d treated her badly after all. But fear? No. Something else was definitely amiss.

Clay’s glance cut to Sage and Caitlin still sitting at the table. Their expressions reflected a confusion similar to the one he was experiencing.

The celebration continued with cake and punch. Wayne Powell, Sierra’s father, acted as host. The group of men, which included a few family friends and two of the Powells’ longtime ranch hands, wandered to the living room. The women, girls and Wayne remained in the kitchen, hovering around Sierra and Jamie.

Clay stayed, too, using a conversation with Wayne as his excuse. While the older man talked, Clay kept one ear tuned to the discussion going on between the women.

Sierra had set Jamie on the floor, and he was toddling about by her feet. Isa knelt in front of him, making a toy pony that looked as if it had been mauled gallop in the air.

“How old is he?” Caitlin asked Sierra.

Sierra hesitated, thinned her lips and twirled a strand of glossy brunette hair around her finger. “About a year.”

Clay knew that look and habit, having seen it a hundred times before. He’d spent almost as much time at Powell Ranch as he had his own family’s while growing up. Sierra was the pesky, always-in-the-way little sister. While she didn’t lie, exactly, she’d occasionally exaggerated, and the hair-twirling was a dead giveaway.

So, what was she exaggerating about this time?

“He’s walking well for a year,” Sage commented.

“Did he have his birthday already?” Cassie asked. “Maybe we can have a party for him.”

Sierra thinned her lips again and twirled her hair even faster. “He already had a party.”

Wayne said something to Sierra about her and Jamie staying in Ethan’s old room, that her room had been given over to the girls.

Clay listened and watched.

Jamie fascinated him. He picked at the laces of Isa’s sneakers with amazing determination and quickly had them untied. Clay admired that quality, having plenty of it himself. He’d inherited it from his father and grandfather Jamie.

Suddenly, the air was too thick to breathe and the room stifling hot.

Clay mentally calculated how long since he and Caitlin had last seen each other. Last slept together. Not quite two years. She had mentioned Jamie was about a year. But if he was older, say thirteen or fourteen months…

She’d lied, and not just about Jamie’s age.

“Sierra.” The volume of Clay’s voice surprised not only himself but everyone else in the room. He didn’t care. “We need to talk.”

The fear he’d seen in her face earlier returned tenfold, only now he knew the cause.

When she didn’t move, he started toward her. “Right this minute.”

“I—I—” She bent and picked up Jamie, who was not happy about being separated from Isa and started to wail. “I really should unload the car.”

“I’ll help you.”

“What’s going on?” Wayne moved to stand in front of Clay.

“This is between me and Sierra.”

Wayne might be pushing sixty but he presented a formidable obstacle when protecting his daughter. “Whatever you have to say to her, you can say to me.”

“Is that what you want?” Clay’s gaze locked with Sierra’s.

“No.” Her answer was hardly more than a whisper.

He went to the kitchen door, opened it and waited for her to join him.

“Sierra, you don’t have to go with him.” Wayne laid a protective hand on her arm.

She squared her shoulders. “It’s okay, Dad.”

She was brave, he’d give her that much.

“No, it’s not,” Wayne said. “I don’t like him ordering you around.” The glare Wayne shot Clay reminded him it hadn’t been that long since he’d reconciled with the Powells.

He didn’t care. He’d lost one child already, he wasn’t about to lose a second.

“You harm one hair on her head—”

Clay cut off Wayne before he could finish. “I won’t. I swear.”

Wayne reluctantly backed off, his narrowed gaze informing Clay they weren’t done by a long shot.

When Sierra reached the door, he held out his arms to Jamie. “Let me take him.”

“No!” She curled her body away from Clay. “He doesn’t like strangers.”

Jamie made a liar of his mother by extending his arms to Clay. She held fast but lost her grip when Jamie squirmed and wriggled sideways.

Clay caught the boy easily and balanced him on his hip as he’d seen Sierra do.

“Give him back,” she demanded.

“I will, after you and I talk.”

Sierra went outside with Clay. Whatever she felt, she did a good job of keeping it to herself.

Clay was ready to explode.

They’d no sooner stepped off the back patio when he stopped and reeled on her.

“How dare you keep my son from me!”


Chapter Two

“Let me explain,” Sierra insisted, jogging to match Clay’s long strides.

“You lied to me.”

He was right. She’d done everything in her power to hide Jamie’s existence from him. Worse, if there was any way she could go back in time to an hour ago, she’d drive past her family’s ranch and keep driving until she found someplace safe.

“Give Jamie to me, I can—”

“He’s fine.”

And he was fine, if his silly grin and happy babbling was any indication. Damn Clay.

She wanted to cry out, tackle Clay and wrestle Jamie away from him. It would be fruitless, of course. Clay was easily six-two and strong as a linebacker. What if he took off with Jamie? Made a mad dash to his truck? She might never get her son back.

“Please, Clay.” She strived to maintain a reasonable tone. “If we could just talk.”

“We’ll talk, all right. But not here. I don’t want your family interfering.”

Her family! Oh, God, what must they be thinking? They’d barely begun to accept she had a child and now this. Surely her father was putting two and two together. They might have made their peace with Clay, but he’d still been their hated enemy when he and Sierra had their affair.

Clay crossed the open area and headed toward the stables, her son still clutched in his arms.

Her son.

Yes, his son, too. That, however, was a technicality. Clay hadn’t wanted her when given the chance, had chosen to marry his off-again, on-again fiancée instead. As far as Sierra was concerned, he’d forfeited any and all say regarding Jamie.

It was an opinion Clay didn’t seem to share.

“Wait!” Sierra hurried to catch up. “I’ll carry Jamie. He doesn’t like strangers.”

“I’m no stranger.” Clay didn’t take his eyes off the ground in front of him. “I’m his father.”

Anger bloomed inside her. “Clay, I said wait!”

He slowed, then, to her relief, came to a halt. She drew up beside him, weak-kneed from exertion as much as emotional overload.

Jamie hung on to Clay’s neck and giggled.

Maybe he really did like other people, and she was the one with the phobia.

It was possible.

No one other than the pediatrician during their visit to his office last Monday had been allowed to hold Jamie besides Sierra. She didn’t count the months between his birth and three weeks ago when he’d been returned to her. The Stevensons, the ones who’d cared for him, didn’t matter. Didn’t exist. Not after rejecting her child.

“Where are you taking us?” She captured Jamie’s flailing foot in her hand and cupped the ankle, desperately needing the contact. He had been no more than an arm’s length away from her since the minute she’d got him back.

“Ethan’s apartment.”

Sierra remembered now. Her brother had converted the old bunkhouse into an apartment after Sage and Isa moved into the main house.

“We can be alone there and lock the door.”

“Lock the door?” She shook her head. “Aren’t you being a little extreme?”

“No, considering the cavalry’s almost here.”

Sierra looked behind her. Her dad and brothers were indeed coming after them. The three sweetest, most important and ridiculously overprotective men in the world were going to rescue her. She had half a mind to let them. Then, she remembered Clay’s hardheadedness. He wouldn’t give up Jamie without a fight.

“Let me talk to them.”

“I’ll meet you in the apartment.”

Inside? Out of her sight?

“No!” The mere thought of being away from her baby paralyzed her.

The muscles in Clay’s jaw were clenching with anger or impatience or frustration, she didn’t know which. “I won’t take off with him.”

She exhaled slowly. How to explain her crippling separation anxiety? She barely understood it herself.

“I’ll go with you to Ethan’s apartment. Anywhere you want. Just stay where I can see Jamie until I’m done talking to the family. Please.”

“Fine, I’ll wait for you on the porch.”

Sierra mentally measured the distance. Thirty yards, give or take. It felt more like ten miles.

“You have about three seconds to decide.”

Or what? He would go back on his word and run off with Jamie? Her temples throbbed. This day, her entire life, was unraveling at lightning speed.

“Okay.”

As soon as Clay walked away, Sierra regretted her decision. He would be alone with her son. Never once had she imagined Clay would walk into her family’s house and steal Jamie from her like an eagle snatching prey.

With one eye trained on Clay and Jamie, she braced herself for the confrontation with her father and brothers.

“Are you all right?” Wayne Powell demanded the instant he reached her. “What’s going on?”

Gavin zoomed past without so much as a glance in her direction.

“Come back!” she called. When he ignored her, she hollered, “Gavin, don’t make this worse than it already is.”

That did the trick. Fists clenched at his sides, he returned, each step an obvious effort.

Sierra closed her eyes and sighed. Where to begin?

“Is he Jamie’s father?”

She nodded.

“Son of a bitch,” Gavin grumbled. “I’ll kill him.”

“Don’t overreact. He didn’t—” Sierra squeezed her eyes shut. “It was mutual. I knew what I was doing.”

“If you loved him, why didn’t you tell us?” Ethan asked.

How had he guessed? “You despised Clay at the time. Can you imagine your reaction?”

“Damn straight I can,” Gavin agreed.

“Is that why you stayed away so long?” her father asked.

“Dad, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was confused. I came home for the wedding because I thought Clay was in Texas.”

“He moved back a year or so ago. After his divorce.”

“He’s divorced?” She swayed slightly. “I didn’t know.”

Not that it made any difference.

Or did it?

No difference at all, she assured herself. There was nothing between her and Clay, now or ever again.

Except for Jamie.

“If you thought he was in Texas, why didn’t you come home sooner?” her father asked, his eyes filled with sadness.

Guilt burned a brand-new hole in Sierra, bigger than all the other ones combined.

“It’s complicated. And I’ll tell you as soon as I finish with Clay.”

He’d begun pacing on the porch. From this distance, Sierra couldn’t tell if it was because he’d become restless or Jamie had or perhaps a combination of both. Neither man nor child possessed much patience, and both were prone to impulsiveness. They were also both charming to distraction when it suited them.

“You going to be okay?” Ethan squeezed her upper arm.

“With Clay? Of course. He’s mad right at the moment, but he won’t do anything drastic.”

“I wasn’t referring to Clay.”

“Thank you for caring.” She smiled tenderly at all three men. “I can’t tell you how much I regret the way I treated you the last two years.”

“Don’t worry, honey.” Her father gathered her into a hug and patted her head, much as he’d done when she was a little girl. “Everything will work out.”

She wished she shared his optimism.

“We’ll be right here if you need us.” Gavin stared menacingly at Clay.

“Watch him for me, will you?” Sierra asked Ethan. “I don’t want him going all big-brother on me.”

“Don’t be so hard on Gavin,” her father said. “It’s going to take us a while to get used to all this.”

To say the least.

The walk to the apartment took forever and yet was over in an instant. Sierra climbed the three porch steps with leaden feet and a racing heart.

Clay stood by the door with one hand on the knob, his expression guarded and grave.

Her son’s, on the other hand, lit up at the sight of her, and he babbled excitedly, just as he had three weeks ago when he’d seen her for the first time since the day he was born.

Giving Jamie up for adoption was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

Facing Clay, telling him about it, was coming in a very close second.

* * *

“HE WANTS DOWN.” Sierra sat on the couch, assuming, hoping that Clay would sit there, too, and Jamie would crawl across the cushions to her.

Only Clay had chosen the chair, a hand-me-down that used to reside in the living room long before she’d left for college.

Jamie squirmed and wriggled and whined, pushing ruthlessly at Clay’s chest in a bid for freedom. The resemblance between them, same hazel eyes and blond hair, same disarming smile, was striking enough for Sierra realize she wouldn’t have gotten away with lying about her child’s father’s identity for long.

“I won’t take off with him,” she repeated his earlier promise.

Clay released Jamie, reluctantly depositing him on the hardwood floor. He immediately scrambled over to Sierra, then abandoned her just as quickly to explore the cozy apartment. The two-person breakfast set fascinated him. He squeezed between a chair and the table legs, then plopped on the floor beneath the table, cooing with satisfaction.

Sierra hadn’t visited the old bunkhouse in years. As with the main house, the transformation amazed her.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Jamie?”

It was like Clay to ask the toughest question first.

She collected her thoughts before replying. “The simple answer is I found out you and Jessica were back together and getting married. Showing up at the wedding and announcing I was carrying your child didn’t feel like the right thing to do.”

“That’s not reason enough. You denied me my son.”

“Yes, I did.” And she would do it again, given half the chance.

“Why?”

She wasn’t going to admit she’d fallen in love during their two-week affair and that the announcement of his marriage so soon after it ended had crushed her. Clay would sense her vulnerability, and she wasn’t about to give him any advantage.

“I denied myself my son, too,” she said.

“I don’t see how.” He glowered at her as if she were a criminal when what she’d really been was a victim—of his callousness and the Stevensons’ heartlessness.

“I didn’t learn I was pregnant until after Dad told me you and Jessica had set a date.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself.” Clay’s glower momentarily abated. “I owed you that much.”

He had. And admitting it almost two years too late didn’t diminish her anguish.

“I was never very regular,” she continued without acknowledging his apology. “It wasn’t until the flu bug I thought I’d caught didn’t go away that I finally considered the possibility I was pregnant. You have to understand what a shock it was. We’d used protection.”

“I do understand. But that’s still no reason to keep Jamie a secret.”

“I didn’t tell my family, either, not that it matters.”

“It does, actually. I was going to give Ethan and Gavin hell for not telling me.”

“Today was the first I’d heard you and my brothers were friends again.”

“More than friends. Gavin and I are partners in a mustang stud and breeding business, and Ethan works for me at the rodeo arena, breaking and training broncs.”

“Wow!” Friends and business partners and coworkers. It was a lot for Sierra to absorb all at once.

“You’d have known we’d reconciled if you’d ever talked to your family.”

“I deserved that.” She may have, but it still stung.

“I didn’t say it to be mean.”

Hadn’t he?

The glower had returned, raising her hackles.

“Regardless, at the time I found out I was pregnant, you and my family hated each other and had for years. Which is the reason we snuck around those two weeks.”

“I wanted to tell them about us, if you remember.”

“Right. Like I was supposed to say, ‘Hey, Dad, I’m dating Clay, the son of the man who sold the land that was in our family for four generations.’ They’d have disowned me.”

“That’s not true.”

“They wouldn’t have been happy. Dad despised your father.”

“For the record, I never agreed with what he did to your family. We’ve hardly spoken in years.”

“That’s too bad.”

“No, it isn’t.” Clay ground out the words as if they tasted foul.

Whatever had transpired between him and his father must have been quite ugly.

“He’s family.” Sierra was just now rediscovering how important family was, even when the parent was a soulless man like Bud Duvall.

“So is Jamie,” Clay said. “My family.”

They both looked at their son.

He’d grown bored with his pretend cave beneath the table and had crawled out. Before he could interest himself in an electrical outlet or a lamp cord, Sierra rose from the couch, located a ring of keys on the counter and gave them to him. Thrilled, he sat on the floor between the kitchen and living room and proceeded to investigate his new toy with avid concentration.

“I’d have taken care of you and Jamie,” Clay said.

“You would have.” His sense of duty was nothing if not strong. Unlike his father’s. “Jessica, I was pretty sure, might have objected to you having a child with another woman.”

He didn’t answer, letting her know she was right.

“I refused to be responsible for ending your marriage before it even began.”

“That was my decision to make. Not yours.”

“Blame the hormones. I was confused and—” she decided to be honest with him “—hurt. I wasn’t thinking entirely clearly.”

She’d also been depressed. Deeply depressed. Enough that her obstetrician had become concerned and prescribed private counseling along with a support group. Sierra’s health insurance didn’t cover counseling, and she wasn’t earning enough money to pay for it out of pocket. She did attend a support group. Three meetings. Talking with other single mothers in similar situations had only made her feel worse, not better.

Chronically sick, hormonal and at an all-time emotional low, she’d been an easy target for someone with a personal agenda. Like the Stevensons.

“I didn’t intend to hurt you, Sierra. Those two weeks we had together were wonderful.”

“Not wonderful enough, I guess.” The wound he’d left her with ached anew.

“You were going back to San Francisco. My job was here. If I led you to believe we had a future—”

“You didn’t.”

Sierra had been the one to hope for the impossible. Clay and Jessica had dated for years. Six, no, seven. They were constantly breaking up, only to reconcile days or weeks later. Sierra had been a fool to think he wouldn’t run back to Jessica the second she snapped her fingers.

“What made you decide to come home?” He’d gotten around at last to asking the second-toughest question.

She took her time, watching Jamie push the keys across the floor instead of answering Clay. It required all her willpower not to dash into the kitchen and grab Jamie. She didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be having this conversation with Clay. What had made her think returning to Arizona was the solution?

“Sierra?”

“My brothers’ wedding, of course. And I realized I needed help. Raising a child alone isn’t easy.”

“Are you home for good?”

“I…” Here was another chance to fib, but she couldn’t. “I think so. I haven’t discussed it with Dad yet.”

“You weren’t planning on telling me, were you? Not ever.”

“I thought it best to get settled in first. Give my family time to adjust.”

“Bullshit!”

“I told you, I thought you were in Texas.”

“You could have found out easily enough if you’d bothered asking.”

She shot to her feet. “You have no right to lecture me!”

“And you have no right to hide my son.” He stood, too. “What was it? Revenge? Because I hurt you?”

“God, no!”

He snorted. “Right.”

Jamie began to wail. One glance informed Sierra he was responding to her and Clay’s escalating argument.

She went to him. Clay didn’t object when she lifted Jamie into her arms. Patting his back, she murmured soothing phrases until he quieted. Before too long, he wanted down again.

When she released him, he toddled over to the cabinet under the sink where there was probably bleach, dish soap and a multitude of potentially dangerous cleaning products. Sierra opened an overhead cupboard and found some plastic cups and mugs. Sitting on the rug in front of the sink, Jamie proceeded to bang cups against mugs in a noisy symphony.

“You’re good with him,” Clay observed when she sat back down.

“I’m learning. Every day is a new experience. A new lesson.” Many of them hard.

“At least you’ve had the opportunity these last, what? Fourteen months. I’ve missed out on everything.”

She swallowed. Now that the moment had come to reveal the whole, horrible truth, she was having second thoughts. Clay was already angry with her. He might try to obtain custody of Jamie by proving her to be an unfit mother. He might win for, in her mind anyway, she was indeed the worst mother on the planet.

Lying to Clay and everyone else was the only way she could protect herself. Protect Jamie.

Her mind in a whirl, she opened her mouth, ready to blurt some concocted story. Clay’s eyes stopped her cold. They were no longer ablaze with anger but filled with sadness and grief.

He truly regretted those missing fourteen months with Jamie.

Sierra’s own heart shattered. Could she have been any crueler? She’d done to Clay exactly what the Stevensons had done to her—stolen a child from his parent.

“I’ve missed out on everything, too.” Tears pricked her eyes, and she brushed them away. “Except for the last three weeks.”

“What are you talking about?”

There was no easy way to say it, no way to soften the crushing blow she was about to deliver. “I gave Jamie up for adoption when he was born. Last month, on January twenty-third—” she’d remember that day always “—he was returned to me.”

His expression darkened. “I don’t understand.”

“I gave him up for adoption. His…caretakers—” she refused to use the word parents, even with adoptive in front of it “—changed their mind and returned him to me.”

“You gave him up?” Clay recoiled in disbelief.

To Sierra, it felt like a slap.

“Why? How could you?”

Good question, and one she’d asked herself a thousand times.

“I was ill all during my pregnancy. Really ill. Day and night.”

“That’s no reason.”

“I was also an emotional wreck. I took the news of your marriage hard.” Boy, that was an understatement. “Maybe because I was pregnant, things overwhelmed me. I was alone. I didn’t think I could confide in my family. My job didn’t pay that well, had minimal benefits, and I was required to travel ten days a month. I wanted Jamie, truly I did. I just didn’t know how I was going to manage everything.”

“So, you decided not keeping your baby was easier.”

The disgust in his voice cut her to the bone and echoed her own feelings about herself. This was why she hadn’t come home before or confided in her family.

“It didn’t happen like that. I was vulnerable, physically and emotionally weak. Confused and scared. I don’t remember when my boss Ken first approached me about adopting Jamie. He was subtle, dropping tiny hints here and there, letting me get used to the idea slowly. The next thing I knew, I was in my last trimester and meeting with him and his wife and their attorney in order to finalize the adoption.”

“You had to understand what was going on.”

“I did understand.” Sierra shoved her fingers through her hair. She’d gone over this again and again in her head, tried to justify what she’d done. So far, she hadn’t. How could she expect Clay to understand? “They were very persuasive and nice. Or so I thought. Ken and Gail had been married twelve years and spent most of them trying to have a child. I was sure they’d be good parents, give Jamie a better life than I ever could. They helped me, supported me, paid my medical bills. I believed they wanted what was best for my baby. I didn’t realize they were manipulating me.”

“You wouldn’t have had to go through that if you’d told me you were pregnant.”

His sanctimonious attitude irritated her. “That’s easy for you to say now that you’re divorced.”

“You’re right,” he admitted grudgingly.

“Believe me, I regretted my decision the moment I handed Jamie over to the Stevensons in the hospital.”

“Why didn’t you tell them you’d changed your mind?”

“I signed an agreement. And I was still convinced they’d be better parents than me.”

“What happened?”

“Instead of getting my old life back or my new life together, I fell apart. Guilt, regret, remorse, you name it. Every aspect of my life suffered. I hit rock bottom and was about to lose my job, my apartment, friends, probably my family. I thought of hiring my own attorney, something I should have done in the first place, and seeing if I could get Jamie. Not long after that, Ken and Gail contacted me out of the blue. They didn’t want Jamie anymore.”

“What?”

“Gail had finally gotten pregnant. With twins. She was almost eight months along. Guess they were like those childless couples you hear about. They adopt, and suddenly the woman conceives.”

“That’s no reason to give back your child.” Clay sounded as appalled and disgusted as Sierra had been. “He’s not a shirt you decide you don’t like once you get it home from the store.”

“Gail said they never really bonded with him. And now that they were having their own biological children, they thought they’d give me first shot before their attorney arranged another adoption. She said they were also concerned about the baby’s father.”

“Me?”

“You didn’t sign off on the adoption, which is usually required. Ken and Gail’s attorney had advised them not to go ahead without your signature, but they were desperate and willing to take the chance you wouldn’t appear one day. That changed when she got pregnant.”

“And you decided to come home.”

“I quit my job, gave up my apartment, cashed in my 401K and headed here. Now that I have Jamie, nothing or no one is going to take him from me again.”

“I see,” Clay said in a tone that made Sierra think he didn’t see at all.

“I’ve been given a second chance, Clay. An opportunity to correct all the mistakes I made.” The hell with her pride. She’d plead with him if that was what it took.

“Do those mistakes include not telling me?”

“I’m here now, and I’ve explained everything.”

“Have you?”

Everything except the part where I fell in love with you. “Yes.”

Jamie promptly abandoned the mugs and cups and waddled over to Sierra. She gathered him to her and kissed the top of his downy blond head.

Clay watched them. “We’re going to have to come to an agreement about him.”

“All right.”

She’d let him visit Jamie at the ranch. A few times a week if he wanted. Then later, say next year, when she’d conquered her separation anxiety, Clay could take Jamie for the afternoon or maybe the whole day. Assuming she was still in Mustang Valley. She’d need a new job and these days a decent one was hard to find. Chances were she’d have to look outside the Scottsdale area, possibly outside the state.

“I’m glad you agree.” Clay stood, went over to Jamie and patted his head, his smile tender and, this was a surprise to Sierra, almost fatherly. “I’ll have my attorney contact you this week regarding the custody agreement.”

“Custody agreement? Don’t you mean visitation?” Sierra also stood, Jamie holding on to her leg.

Clay reached for Jamie, hefted him into his arms. “I want joint custody of our son.”

“No! Forget it.”

“We’re going to raise him together, whether you like it or not.”

She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it one bit.


Chapter Three

Clay rang his mother’s doorbell. She always told him to use his key and just come in, but he didn’t feel right about that. Perhaps because the spacious townhouse in the upscale Scottsdale neighborhood had never struck him as home.

His mother’s home, he reminded himself.

The door swung open. “Clay, sweetheart! Come in.” Blythe Duvall kissed his cheek. “I’m so glad you called. What a perfect way to spend a Saturday afternoon.”

He gave her a fond squeeze before releasing her. “How are you, Mom?”

“Great. I shot an eighty-seven this morning. My best game in months.”

All this time, and it still surprised him to see her in golfing attire. Or in the business suits and heels she wore to the title company where she worked as an escrow officer. She should be in jeans and boots and the floppy straw hat she’d refused to give up till it literally fell apart on her head.

Except she hadn’t lived on a ranch in more than eight years and probably wouldn’t ever again.

“Good for you.” Clay followed her into the kitchen where a newspaper lay spread open on the breakfast bar.

“Can I get you something? A cold drink? Coffee?”

“Just ice water.”

“You sounded so serious on the phone.” She busied herself pouring their water. “Something the matter?”

“Not exactly.”

He sat on a stool at the breakfast bar and let his gaze travel the stylish, ultra-contemporary kitchen, with its high-tech appliances and built-in flat-panel TV. Like his mother’s clothes, the kitchen felt wrong. He remembered her cooking hearty meals at their huge gas range and a refrigerator covered with photos, reminder notes and school papers.

His parents had divorced about the time his father exercised a small-print clause in his contract with the Powells and sold off their land, effectively putting them out of the cattle business. Clay honestly didn’t know if the sale of the land was the final straw in a marriage circling the drain or a last-ditch effort to save it.

The story changed depending on which parent was telling it.

Because his mother sided with Clay against his father regarding the Powells’ land, they had remained close. Neither of them kept much of a connection with Bud Duvall.

“I have some news,” Clay said. “Rather incredible news.”

“Uh-oh.” The twinkle in her eyes dimmed, replaced by worry. “The last incredible news you had was when you told me you and Jessica were getting married and moving to Texas.”

They both knew how badly that had turned out. No two people had been more ill-suited for each other or more blind until it was too late.

“No, I’m not getting married again.”

“What is it then?” She placed two glasses of ice water on the breakfast bar and slipped into the stool beside him.

He hesitated, honestly not sure how his mother would react. She wanted grandchildren. She also wanted Clay happily married and settled first.

“I told you Sierra Powell was coming home for the wedding.”

“You did.”

Clay’s mother and Sierra’s mother had been good friends before tragedy had struck, cutting Louise Powell’s life short.

“She brought her young son with her.”

“Really! I wasn’t aware she had any children.”

“No one was, including her family.”

His mother’s hands flew to her cheeks. “That must have come as a shock. Though I’m sure Wayne is overjoyed. He dotes on his granddaughter, Sage’s daughter, too.”

“He is overjoyed.” Clay inhaled deeply. “There’s something else you need to know. It’s good news, I assure you. But unexpected.”

“Now you’ve got me scared.”

“Sierra’s son… Well, I’m the father.”

His mother stared at him blankly for several seconds. “How in the world did that happen?”

“The usual way.”

“You haven’t seen her since her mother died.”

“I have. Two years ago when she came home for a visit. We didn’t tell anyone. We thought it wise, considering how her family felt about me, us, at the time.”

“You cheated on Jessica with Sierra?”

“No. Jessica and I were on the outs. I ran into Sierra at the Corner Diner. We got to talking, hit it off, and one thing led to another.”

He summarized his brief affair with Sierra and what she’d told him about her pregnancy, Jamie’s birth, adoption and getting him back.

“I can’t believe it.” His mother’s happy smile warmed Clay. “I’m a grandmother. Wait till I tell—” She stopped, covered her mouth. “What am I saying? Poor Sierra. Such a terrible ordeal for her to go through.”

Her? What about him? “She kept my son from me!”

“You dumped her.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“It was entirely like that. No wonder she was hurt and confused.”

“She had no right to pawn Jamie off on strangers.”

“We’re all guilty of making bad decisions we later regret.”

True. Clay was a walking, talking example. “I told her I want joint custody of Jamie.”

“Is she agreeable?”

Clay thought back to how he and Sierra had parted yesterday at Ethan’s apartment and her vehement protests. “She’d prefer I start with supervised visitation. I told I have no intention of being an every-other-weekend father.”

His mother reached over and covered his hand with hers. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, sweetheart, but why not?”

“I’ve always wanted kids. That was one of the reasons Jessica and I divorced.”

“I remember how devastated you were when she miscarried.”

“She didn’t want children, Mom. She couldn’t have been more relieved.” Clay was the one who’d grieved over the loss. When he’d discovered not long after that Jessica was secretly taking birth control pills, their shaky marriage had rapidly deteriorated. “This is a second chance for me.”

“I worry that you’re so busy. You work seven days a week at the rodeo arena. You’re at Powell Ranch at least two days a week helping Gavin with the stud and breeding business. And then there’s the wild-mustang sanctuary. How are you going to fit raising a child, a young child at that, into your life?”

“I’ll hire more help if necessary.”

“I suppose you could.”

“What happened to the happy grandmother?”

“I’m thrilled, of course. And I’ve always liked Sierra. It’s just such a huge responsibility and an enormous adjustment. I think the two of you should proceed slowly. Whatever decisions you make must be best for everyone, especially little Jamie. Let him get used to Sierra before you start taking him.”

His mother made sense, but Clay wasn’t convinced. He had a lot of catching up to do with Jamie.

“Would you like to see him?”

She brightened. “I can’t wait.”

“Let’s go over there now.”

“This second?”

“Sure.”

“Shouldn’t you call Sierra first?”

“She’s already expecting me. I told her yesterday I’d be by.”

“But not that you’d be bringing me.”

“You’re Jamie’s grandmother.”

“Have you told your father yet?”

He shook his head.

“Don’t you think you should?”

“I will. Later this week.” Clay may be at odds with Bud, but he wouldn’t deny the man his grandson. Not like Sierra had denied him.

“Tell you what.” Blythe hopped off her stool. “You call Sierra while I change into slacks.”

Two minutes later, Clay was shutting the Arcadia door behind him as he went onto his mother’s back patio to make the call. He didn’t want her hearing the conversation in case Sierra gave him more grief.

She answered the house phone on the second ring.

“It’s Clay.”

“Oh, hi.”

He ignore her lack of enthusiasm. “I should be there in about a half-hour, forty-five minutes tops.”

“It’s not a good time. Jamie’s napping.”

“He’ll wake up eventually. Won’t he?”

“Yes—”

“We can wait.”

“We?”

“My mother’s coming with me.”

Silence followed.

“We won’t stay too long, I promise.”

“All right. But in the future, I need more than a moment’s notice you’re bringing someone with you.”

“She’s my mother.”

“Even so.”

“Until we hammer out the custody agreement, I’m going to see Jamie every day. I’m more than willing to work out a schedule that’s convenient for both of us.”

“You don’t get to dictate all the rules, Clay.” There was an unaccustomed edge to her tone.

“Neither do you. Not anymore.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath.

“Fine, I’ll see you shortly.” She hung up without saying goodbye.

Clay refused to get angry. This was only the beginning of a potentially long battle, since Sierra was intent on resisting him at every turn.

Unless…

The idea that had suddenly sprang to his mind quickly grew into a full-fledged plan.

And Clay liked having plans.

* * *

“YOU OKAY, SIERRA?”

She glanced up to see her future sister-in-law Sage enter the kitchen wearing her khaki uniform. She was a field agent for the Arizona Game and Fish Department and often worked on the weekends. Later, as her pregnancy advanced, she’d be assigned to a desk job.

“I’m fine.” Sierra moved away from the wall phone. “Clay and his mother are coming over.”

“From the look on your face, I’d say that’s bad.”

“I was hoping for more time alone with Jamie before pulling him in a dozen different directions.”

“Kids are resilient and do better with change than we think they will. Especially at his age.”

“You’re probably right.” She was right, Sierra thought. It was her and not Jamie who needed more time.

Sage reached into the refrigerator and came away with a piece of leftover pizza, which she then placed on a paper plate and put in the microwave.

“Miss lunch?”

“No.” She smiled embarrassedly. “I’m just always hungry.”

“Lucky you. I spent most of my pregnancy throwing up or feeling like I wanted to.”

“You’re also lucky.”

“I am, but what are you referring to?”

The previous evening, after Clay had left, Sierra had finally unloaded the entire story about Jamie to her family. They were supportive, sad she’d gone through so much misery alone and ecstatic she and Jamie were reunited. They also didn’t quite understand her reasons for not telling them about her pregnancy from the start and, at least in Gavin’s case, were a little mad at her.

“You’re lucky Jamie’s father wants to be part of his life,” Sage said.

Sierra leaned her back against the counter and watched Sage devour her warmed-up pizza. “I’m okay with Clay being part of his life. It’s his need to control that bothers me.”

“Wanting to see their sons every day is natural for most dads. I wish my ex wanted to see Isa. Not for my sake, mind you. For hers. Gavin is wonderful and a hundred times the father my ex will ever be, but Isa still asks about her daddy and can’t help feeling rejected. Jamie won’t ever experience that.”

The advice was good, and Sierra appreciated it. When she’d first got Jamie back, Sierra hadn’t thought ahead to when he might ask about his father. Certainly not about what she’d say to him or how it would affect him.

Now it was irrelevant. Jamie would know his father. Very well, if Clay had anything to do with it.

“I just wish he’d calm down a little. Quit trying to run the show.”

“That’s Clay for you.”

“Is it?” Sierra really didn’t know him, not the adult Clay. The youth and teenager she’d grown up with had been a lot like her older brothers. Competitive, confident, a talented athlete and enormously popular with the girls. The Clay she’d spent time with two years ago had been vulnerable and wounded and unafraid to show his gentler side. That was the man she’d fallen in love with.

“He’s a really good person, Sierra.” Sage smiled fondly. “Hardworking, loyal, caring and sweet.”

Sweet?

“He’s not hard on the eyes, either,” Sage added with an appreciative sigh. “You could do worse.”

“We’re not… There’s nothing between us,” Sierra protested.

“There was at one time.”

Jamie’s I’m-awake-where-are-you? cry carried through the house from the bedroom. “Oops.” Sierra excused herself with a smile. “Someone’s up from their nap.”

“And demanding your attention. Isn’t that just like a man? Big or little.”

Jamie’s crying stopped the moment Sierra stepped into the bedroom. He stood up in the portable crib, clinging to the side. One good growth spurt, and he’d be tall enough to crawl out on his own. She was going to have to buy a full-size crib soon, though she couldn’t imagine where she’d put another piece of furniture in here.

She and Jamie needed their own place. Though she loved her family, she couldn’t live with them and off them for long. Her pride wouldn’t let her. In order to obtain her own place, however, she’d need a job. In order to get a job, she’d have to conquer her fear of being away from Jamie.

The solution was obvious. Find employment she could do from home.

That, she decided, would be the first order of business on Monday morning. She’d update her résumé and start sending it out. In the meantime, she’d offer to help around the ranch. Run errands. Answer the phone. Paperwork. Clean stalls if necessary, so long as she could have Jamie with her.

“Hungry, handsome?”

She hummed to Jamie as she combed his rumpled hair. He patted her face and made kissing sounds; at least, Sierra chose to believe they were kissing sounds.

For a moment, she lost herself in the miracle of her son and forgot all about his father coming over. It didn’t last. No sooner did she walk back into the kitchen, Jamie toddling along beside her, then she remembered.

She’d just finished giving him a snack of juice and Cheerios, when a knock sounded.

“Sierra! It’s wonderful to see you again.” The hug Blythe Powell gave Sierra when she opened the door was warm and genuine and a good ten seconds long.

Her resistance melted. Here was someone from her past, an important someone. In a small way, hugging Blythe was like hugging her mother again.

Suddenly, Sierra wanted Jamie to meet his only living grandmother.

“Come in.” Her pleasure was cut short when Clay sauntered into the kitchen.

He was carrying an old-fashioned wooden rocking horse, one that had been ridden hard and loved well, given the worn paint and frayed yarn mane. Once inside, he set it in the middle of the floor.

“I hope you don’t mind I brought this along,” Blythe explained. “It was Clay’s when he was Jamie’s age. His grandfather made it for him.”

The grandfather she’d named Jamie after? Yes, she thought, observing Clay’s features soften.

“Is this him?” Blythe approached Jamie, her hands clasped in front of her, her face an explosion of joy.

Jamie, excited over the commotion, started slapping the tray on his high chair.

“Hello there.” Blythe bent so that her face was on Jamie’s level. “Aren’t you adorable?”

His eyes went huge, and his mouth started quivering.

“Goodness gracious, don’t cry.”

Sierra rushed over. “He’s a little shy around new people.”

Except when it came to Clay.

“It’s okay,” Blythe crooned, not appearing the least bit offended. “We’ll get to know each other slowly.”

Sierra removed Jamie from the high chair and bounced him in her arms, standing next to Blythe so he could get used to her. After a minute, he settled down. The next minute, he was reaching for Blythe’s glasses.

She captured his hand, put it to her lips and blew a raspberry on his palm. Jamie snatched his hand back, stared at it in amazement, burst into giggles, then pushed it into her face.

“Ma, ma, ma.”

Tears sprang to Blythe’s eyes, and she laughed along with Jamie. “He looks just like Clay did as a baby.”

Sierra didn’t deny the resemblance, though she sometimes thought she saw some of her father in him, too.

After another two minutes and another dozen raspberries, Jamie was more than willing to go to his grandmother. She took him gratefully.

“Do you mind?” she asked, indicating the chair where Sierra had been sitting when they arrived.

“Sit, please.” She caught Clay’s glance and was struck still.

The sweetness Sage had referred to earlier shone in his expression. “Thank you,” he mouthed.

She shrugged, ignoring the mild thrum of her heartstrings.

“Can I get you something?” she offered.

“I’m fine.” Blythe and Jamie were engaged in a game of peek-a-boo.

“Me, too.” Clay removed his cowboy hat and set it on the counter. At the table, he stroked Jamie’s head. “The rest of the family out working?”

“Yes.” Saturdays, as Sierra was learning, were the busiest days of the week for the Powell Riding Stables and Gavin’s stud and breeding business. “Ethan’s shoeing horses, and Gavin said something about new brood mares arriving. If you want to go talk to them, your mother and I—”

“I want to talk to you.”

All the warm, cozy feelings Sierra had been having promptly vaporized. “Right this minute?”

“Mom can watch Jamie.”

Blythe must have heard them, but she didn’t look away from Jamie.

“I haven’t hired an attorney yet,” Sierra said softly.

“It’s not that kind of conversation.”

What kind was it, then? She’d much prefer stalling, except he would push and push and not relent until she did.

“We can sit in the living room.”

“I was thinking of somewhere more private. Like the back patio.”

“No. I can’t see Jamie from outside.” She couldn’t see him from the living room, either, but he would be only one room away, and she could hear him. That would minimize her anxiety.

“Mom’s not going to—”

“Of course she’s not.”

“Then why?”

“It’s the living room or not at all.”

Sierra couldn’t explain her phobia to herself, much less other people. Losing Jamie had made her overprotective and unreasonably afraid. She would, she was convinced, improve in time. Everyone just needed to be patient with her.

“Okay.” He led the way.

Sierra chose the chair closest to the hallway.

Rather than sit, Clay stood at the large picture window, studying the courtyard, beyond which lay Mustang Valley and the community of Mustang Village at its center.

He was, Sierra grudgingly admitted, a nice-looking man. Tall, broad-shouldered, lean-hipped and with a ruggedly handsome profile. His jeans were the same everyday brand her brothers wore. Not so his Western-cut shirt. She’d bet if she viewed the label inside the collar it would bear a designer name. His quality leather boots and belt were hand-tooled by expert craftsmen.

According to her brothers’ account, Clay toiled laboriously running his various business ventures. He was apparently doing well.

A memory stirred of her nestled beside that tall frame, her fingertips stroking that rugged profile as early-morning light streamed in through the shutters. Even as she shoved the memory aside, a flush crept up her neck to her cheeks.

He abruptly turned, startling her, and she averted her head before he noted her flummoxed state.

When he sat, it was in the chair adjacent to hers, his knees separated from hers by mere inches.

“I don’t want to make this difficult on you,” he started, his voice low.

“I thought you said we weren’t going to discuss Jamie’s custody.”

“We’re not. Well, not the legal aspect of it.”

“What then?”

He exhaled slowly. “Promise me you’ll consider what I say before going ballistic.”

“I don’t go ballistic.”

“You did a little yesterday and just now when I suggested we talk on the back patio.”

“I told you, I get nervous when Jamie’s out of my sight.”

“Which is why I’ve been rethinking my paternity suit.”

Thank goodness!

Her shoulders sagged with relief. “I swear to you, I’ll be very generous with visitation.”

“Oh, I still want custody of Jamie.”

“What!” She sat up. “Not on your life.”

“Not full custody.”

Her patience snapped, and she pushed to her feet. “Quit playing games with me.”

“Sit back down and listen.”

She’d never heard him talk so sharply. Reluctantly, she lowered herself into the chair.

“Joint custody is more than shuffling a child between two residences. It’s co-parenting. Both of us working as a team to raise our son. To do that successfully, we need to spend as much time together as possible. The three of us.”

“Define as much time as possible.”

“I’d rather define together.”

“Go on.”

“Twenty-four/seven.”

“Forget it,” Sierra bit out.

“Would you rather I take Jamie half the time? I will.”

The thought of Clay taking Jamie for even an hour had her—how had he put it?—going ballistic.

“You can’t stay here. There isn’t enough room.” If he thought he was sharing her bed, he was crazy.

“I agree.” He leaned forward, pinning her in place with his unyielding gaze. “Which is why you and Jamie are going to live with me.”


Chapter Four

Sierra would have liked to think she’d heard Clay incorrectly, except she hadn’t.

“You say going to live with you like I don’t have a choice.”

“You do have a choice. Many of them, in fact. I just happen to think living with me is the best one under the circumstances.”

He straightened in his chair, calm and cool and collected. Not one neatly trimmed hair sticking sideways or one droplet of perspiration dotting his brow. Her hair, on the other hand, was a mess, the result of constantly shoving her fingers through the thick strands. And the sweat-soaked collar of her shirt stuck to the back of her neck, intensifying her discomfort.

“Best for you,” she snapped.

“For all of us. Jamie will have the benefit of both parents raising him, and you’ll get to be with him most of the time.”

As opposed to separated from him half the time, if Clay won his paternity suit.

Sierra already ached with loneliness. “I don’t want to uproot him again. He’s just getting used to me. To this place.”

“You’ve been here…what? All of two days? I can’t imagine he’s become that attached.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I won’t do it.”

Clay continued talking as if he hadn’t heard her. “The rodeo arena isn’t far from here, only a couple of miles. You can visit your family whenever you want or they can come over. Ethan’s at the arena almost every day as it is, and Gavin once a week.”

“You live at the rodeo arena?”

“Sometimes it feels like that, I’m there so much.”

Not a place she saw herself either residing or bringing up her son. Too far from town. Too dangerous, what with horses and bulls and vehicles everywhere. It was probably also dusty and dirty. San Francisco was hardly perfect, but she’d resided there for the last seven years and grown accustomed to city life.

“The house is actually on the next parcel over,” Clay continued. “I built it shortly after the arena was finished.”

There were so many reasons to refuse his offer besides uprooting Jamie. She picked the first one.

“I’ve never shared a house or apartment with a man, and I won’t unless he and I are in a committed relationship.”

“I respect your principles, and I wouldn’t ask you to compromise them.”

Oh, okay. She hadn’t expected him to give in so quickly. “Well, I guess there’s no need—”

“I built a casita behind the house. It’s not large, basically a bedroom, a sitting area and a bathroom. But you and Jamie could be comfortable there. You’d have to take some of your meals in the main house. With me,” he added, his tone such that Sierra clearly understood shared meals were part of the deal.

“I can’t live off you. It wouldn’t be right.”

“I’ll be paying monthly child support for Jamie. Any rent, if you want, can be considered part of that support.”

“It still feels like a handout.”

“Fine. You can work for me.”

“This is no joke.”

“I’m not joking. I need the help.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “With what? I was an assistant sales rep for a medical-supply company. I haven’t been on a horse since…three years ago last Christmas.”

Like the rest her family, Sierra had grown up on and around horses, but she had abandoned the cowboy lifestyle at seventeen when she’d left for college. What possible job could there be at a rodeo arena that didn’t involve knowledge of livestock, expertise with a rope and excellent horsemanship skills?

“Office work mostly,” Clay said. “Answering phones, correspondence, paying bills and depositing checks, livestock-rental contracts, maintaining liability waivers and promoting jackpot events.”

That actually didn’t sound too bad and like something Sierra might even enjoy, especially promotion. She was good with people and liked working with them. It was what had once made her the go-to assistant sales rep.

She could be that kind of worker again.

Wait a minute! Even if she could leave Jamie all day, she wasn’t working for Clay. Not in this lifetime.

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t. Which is why I need to run this by my attorney so he can draw up an employment contract.”

She almost laughed. “You not only expect Jamie and I to live with you, you want me to sign a contract?”

“All my employees do.”

She gaped at him. “How long are these contracts for?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “One year.”

“I can’t put my life on hold that long.”

“I’m not going to chain you to me.” One corner of his wide mouth tipped up as if he were about to smile.

Did the idea appeal to him?

“What if I want to take a trip?”

“You can leave Jamie with me.”

“Leave him?” Impossible. Clay was chaining her to him. “This is ridiculous.”





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