“We Can’t Live Here Together!”

“We wouldn’t be living together in a sexual way. It would be like living in the same apartment complex,” Jeb explained.

“I don’t think so,” Amanda said. “Suppose you have a date and bring her home for the night. What would you do—introduce me as the mother of your child who just happens to live here, but oh please, ignore her?”

Suddenly a flicker of amusement danced in his dark eyes, and it made him even more appealing.

“I haven’t had a date I wanted to bring home in a long time.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t in the future. You’re an appealing man,” she admitted, “and I suspect women are easily attracted to you, in spite of your not having a date you ‘wanted to bring home’ lately. That will change.”

Silence stretched until she was compelled to look around. He was sitting still as a statue, studying her intently.

“Maybe you and I should try dating.”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to the world of Silhouette Desire, where you can indulge yourself every month with romances that can only be described as passionate, powerful and provocative!

The always fabulous Elizabeth Bevarly offers you May’s MAN OF THE MONTH, so get ready for The Temptation of Rory Monahan. Enjoy reading about a gorgeous professor who falls for a librarian busy reading up on how to catch a man!

The tantalizing Desire miniseries TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: LONE STAR JEWELS concludes with Tycoon Warrior by Sheri WhiteFeather. A Native American ex-military man reunites with his estranged wife on a secret mission that renews their love.

Popular Peggy Moreland returns to Desire with a romance about a plain-Jane secretary who is in love with her Millionaire Boss. The hero-focused miniseries BACHELOR BATTALION by Maureen Child continues with Prince Charming in Dress Blues, who’s snowbound in a cabin with an unmarried woman about to give birth! Baby at His Door by Katherine Garbera features a small-town sheriff, a beautiful stranger and the bundle of love who unites them. And Sara Orwig writes a lovely tale about a couple entering a marriage of convenience in Cowboy’s Secret Child.

This month, Silhouette is proud to announce we’ve joined the national campaign “Get Caught Reading” in order to promote reading in the United States. So set a good example, and get caught reading all six of these exhilarating Desire titles!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Cowboy’s Secret Child
Sara Orwig

SARA ORWIG

lives with her husband and children in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere, from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara writes historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.

With love to Hannah, Rachel and Ellen…and with special thanks to Debra Robertson, Joan Marlow Golan and Maureen Walters. And to Patricia Smith, my new editor and a wish come true…

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

One

On a Monday during the first week of June, Jeb Stuart sat quietly in his car beneath the shade of a tall elm on a residential street in Dallas. He waited, his calm manner belying his churning emotions. He glanced at his watch, and then his gaze returned to the shady street. Ten minutes later his pulse jumped as a black car rounded the corner, slowed and turned into the drive of a small red brick house across the street. He saw the riot of the driver’s red hair before she disappeared up the driveway.

Still waiting, he looked at her surroundings, noting that she lived in a nice neighborhood. Farther down the block, sprinklers turned in silvery arcs on lawns. Her yard had flowers and trees and looked idyllic. In a few more minutes he was going to disrupt her peaceful life, much like a bomb going off in the neat red brick house. From all the difficulty he had in locating her, he guessed that she had expected him to come searching for her and had taken precautions against his ever finding her.

Then the front door opened and another woman came out. From the detective’s reports, Jeb knew she was the nanny. Dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt, she sauntered to a parked car, slid inside and drove past Jeb without a glance.

He had waited long enough. He stepped out and crossed the street. With each stride his heartbeat quickened, until it was thudding in anticipation when he climbed the porch steps and rang the doorbell.

The door swung open and only a screen door separated him from the woman he had watched turn into the driveway earlier. Dressed in cutoffs and a blue T-shirt, Amanda Crockett looked up at him and their gazes locked. Jeb stared into wide crystal-green eyes that were enormous and seemed to grow larger. For a moment he was caught and held, but only for a moment, and then he remembered who she was and what she had done.

During the past two months he had rehearsed what he would say when this moment came. Yet now, as he looked down through the screen door into her green eyes, words failed him.

Then he realized it wasn’t going to be necessary to say half of what he had intended because all color had drained from her face, and she looked as if she were going to faint.

Fainting would not win her any of his sympathy, he thought, but as he watched, she raised her chin. Even through the screen door, he could see the spark that came into her eyes and he wondered if he was in for a fight. If so, he relished it because he wanted to let her know how much pain she had caused him. He watched her grasp the door, and her knuckles were as white as her face. Had she really thought she could get away with what she had done?

While her world shifted, Amanda Crockett gripped the solid door. As she looked at the tall stranger glaring at her, she could feel the most precious thing in her life slipping away. The moment she had dreaded for three years had come. One look at his face and she knew without a doubt that the stranger before her was the father of her son. In a grown-up version of three-year-old Kevin, she saw the same bone structure, the same straight nose and wide forehead, the same dark eyes and black hair that Kevin had. She knew now how Kevin would look when he was a man.

She tried to get her breath and fight the dizziness that threatened. The stranger hadn’t said a word, yet his dark eyes said everything. Determination, anger— there was no mistaking his feelings.

He towered over her, and his broad shoulders were as formidable as his height. Yet it wouldn’t have mattered if he had been slender and lightweight—he would have carried the same dreadful threat. More than a threat. The end of her world.

Her stomach constricted as if he had slammed his fist into it, and her head swam. Clutching the door, she gulped deep breaths of air, but words wouldn’t come. She had to invite him into her house. From his expression, she knew he would get inside whether or not she invited him, but for Kevin’s sake she needed to be civil, even though everything in her screamed to slam the door and run. Grab Kevin and keep running.

“Come in,” she whispered.

He opened the screen, and the hinge squeaked as he swung it wide while she stepped back. When he walked inside, he seemed to fill the hall. Dressed in a white shirt, jeans and western boots, he was rugged and handsome and an overpowering presence.

He turned to face her. “I’m Jeb Stuart. Cherie’s ex-husband.”

While Amanda fought a knot in her throat, her tears welled up. Nodding, she closed her eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asked gruffly.

“Yes,” she said, opening her eyes, thinking he looked as if he would like to lock his hands around her throat and squeeze. She tried to gather her wits and catch her breath, but she failed. She reminded herself that he gave up all rights to his child a long time ago.

Feeling shaky, she closed the door and moved ahead of him. As she ushered him into her small living room, she heard his boot heels scraping the oak hardwood floor.

“Have a seat,” she said, perching on the edge of a walnut rocker while he sat on a dark blue wing chair facing her. Looking at him, she became aware that he was very handsome, with riveting dark eyes, sexy, thick lashes, broad shoulders and long legs. When he glanced around the room, she wondered if he thought her home adequate for his son.

She looked at her simple furniture in maroon and navy, her plants, the books on the shelves and the prints that hung on the walls. Kevin’s little books were on the oak coffee table. Whether Jeb Stuart liked it or not, this was Kevin’s home. She locked her fingers together in her lap while the silence became thick and tense.

“I guess you already know that I’m Amanda Crockett, Cherie’s cousin.”

“Yes. I’ve talked with my lawyer and I hired a private detective—that’s how I found you.”

Amanda struggled against the ridiculous urge to beg him to leave her alone. And then she thought about all Cherie had told her about her ex-husband and anger mixed with fear. She would get her own lawyer; she would fight for Kevin.

“What changed your mind about your son, Mr. Stuart?”

“Changed my mind?” he asked, frowning, a note of incredulity in his voice. She noticed that he gripped the arms of the chair until his knuckles were white. He leaned forward slightly, narrowing the distance between them. “Look, lady, you’ve got my child. I’m his father and I’m entitled to my son.”

“You abandoned him, Mr.—”

“Abandoned!” The word was snapped like the crack of a whip. His face reddened, and even though his voice grew even quieter, it was laced with fury. “I did not abandon my son.”

“You may say that now, but at the time—”

“Oh, no,” he interrupted, rage blazing deeper in his dark eyes. “I didn’t abandon him,” he said slowly, with emphasis. “I didn’t know Cherie was pregnant with our child. She kept that from me when we got divorced.”

Amanda’s head reeled again, and the worst of her suspicions were turning out to be the truth. Every word he said was a knife thrust into her heart. Was he lying or telling the truth? If he was lying, he was a good actor. His gaze was direct and his tone held conviction. Amanda’s stomach churned. Deep down she had always wondered if her cousin had lied to her.

“She said you didn’t want your child and you left her and joined the army. Where have you been these last three years?”

“I’ve been in the army,” he answered stiffly. “But when I left for the army, I didn’t know I had fathered a child. We divorced in October 1997. I haven’t seen Cherie since right after our divorce. In January 1998, I went into the army and got out in January of this year. In April I learned about Kevin.”

“Who was born the twenty-second of May three years ago.” With her anger and fear growing, Amanda wondered who was the truthful one. She knew Cherie wasn’t always truthful, but she didn’t know whether Jeb Stuart was truthful, either. After all, he married Cherie. What kind of man would marry her cousin? As swiftly as that question came, Amanda knew that most men would be drawn to Cherie.

“Cherie told me that you abandoned her and that you didn’t want your child. She didn’t want the baby and she knew that I would. She asked me if I would adopt him when he was born. So I went to court and adopted Kevin. I’m his legal mother.”

“Legal adoptive mother,” Jeb reminded her. “I didn’t know about my son. I found out through a friend who knew Cherie and me. Three months after I got out of the army, I just happened to see her. She knew Cherie had been pregnant, but she didn’t know Cherie didn’t keep the baby.”

“Look, I’ve raised Kevin as my son. You’ll tear his life to pieces if you try to take him from me now,” Amanda said, growing more certain of the rights she had and angry that he would barge in and expect her to hand over her child.

“Lady, I’m his father.”

“I have a letter from Cherie saying that you abandoned her when she was pregnant and you knew she was pregnant. Any judge will look at that. I can get Cherie to testify.”

“We both know what her testimony is worth!” Jeb’s anger surfaced again at the lies Cherie had told.

“You’re not going to take my son,” Amanda said defiantly.

“Yet you want to keep my son from me,” Jeb shot back. He wanted to reach out and shake her and tell her that he had missed his son’s babyhood because of her and her cousin.

“Mama?”

At the sound of the soft voice, Jeb turned. A small boy holding a blue blanket stood in the doorway. Dressed in a green T-shirt and jeans, he was barefoot. His thumb was in his mouth.

As Jeb looked at the child standing across the room, he felt as if a fist had clamped around his heart. The rest of the world vanished, leaving only the child. Awe and love and uncertainty filled him. He wanted to touch his child, just touch him. And he saw why Amanda Crockett had recognized him when she opened the door. The resemblance deepened Jeb’s awe. This was his son! He wanted to take the boy’s hand and say, “I’m your dad, and you’re coming home with me,” but he knew it was not going to be that simple. The child was wide-eyed, looking from one adult to the other.

“Come here, Kevin. Did you just wake up?”

Amanda’s voice was transformed, sounding calm and sweet and filled with love, carrying so much warmth that Jeb turned to study her before looking back at his son.

Kevin cast a wary eye at Jeb as he scurried across the room to his mother and climbed into her lap to hold tightly to her. While Amanda gently rocked him and stroked his back, Jeb’s heart received another blow.

For the past two months, from the moment he had discovered Cherie’s deception and the loss of his child, he had been filled with rage and hurt that was compounded when he saw how completely the woman who had his son had vanished. She had left no trail, as though she had known full well that she was doing something underhanded. Now as he watched Kevin wrap his thin little arms around Amanda Crockett’s neck, Jeb’s pain deepened. For the first time, he wondered how he could take his son from the woman who was truly a mother to him.

She gazed over Kevin’s head at Jeb, watching him carefully, and when he looked into her eyes, she gave him a searching stare.

“We need to talk some more,” she said quietly, “but we can’t right now.”

“I can come back,” he said, his voice as quiet as hers, yet he knew that her emotions were as much on edge as his. She seemed to think this over, looking down at Kevin, stroking his hair from his face and patting him. Was she a good mother? Jeb wondered.

“If you want to stay for dinner, Kevin goes to bed around eight and we can talk then.”

Surprised that she offered dinner, Jeb wondered if she wanted him to see her with Kevin to press her point that she was his mother and they loved each other. She didn’t need to, because Jeb could already see they had a close relationship. Was she good to him? he wondered again. Even if she was a marvelous mother, he didn’t want to walk out of his son’s life and give up all rights.

“Thanks. I’ll stay because we do need to talk.”

She gave him another one of her cool, level looks, and he experienced a flicker of admiration for her because she had weathered a big shock and was now in control of her emotions and ready to fight for her rights. At the same time, he didn’t want to admire her or like her or find her attractive. So far he had succumbed to two out of the three and he wondered whether, if he stayed for dinner, he would also begin to like her.

His anger was transforming into a dull, steady pain, and all his plans for getting his child and watching him grow were going up in smoke. The woman facing him was causing him to readjust his thinking. And, adding to his turmoil, he was too aware that she was damned attractive. His gaze flicked over her in a quick assessment that took in the wild red hair that was an invitation to a man to tangle his fingers in it. His gaze lowered to his son’s tiny hand resting against her breast with trust and love. Yet, at the same time, Jeb couldn’t keep from noticing the lush fullness of her breasts beneath her clinging blue T-shirt.

“Kevin, this is Mr. Stuart,” she said.

Kevin twisted slightly to stare at Jeb.

“Hi, Kevin,” Jeb said quietly, feeling another knot in his throat.

Kevin held his small blanket against his face and gazed steadily at Jeb for a long moment until he ducked his head against his mother again. She smoothed his straight black hair. “Sleepy?” she asked him.

He nodded without answering her.

She rocked him slightly, stroking his head while she glanced at Jeb, and he could feel the clash of wills between them. They both wanted the same child. Jeb thought he was entitled to his son, yet for all his young life, the one person Kevin had known as his parent was Amanda Crockett. Jeb realized he was going to have to face that and deal with it in a way that wouldn’t cause a lot of pain to his child.

Why had he thought that he could show up and demand his son and she would hand him over? He had expected a fight, but he hadn’t stopped to think about her being locked into his son’s affections. He had thought of Amanda Crockett as he thought of his ex-wife, Cherie, and Cherie would have given up a child by now. She had given this one up at birth.

“Do you have a grill?” Jeb asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ll go get some steaks and grill them, and then you won’t have to go to so much trouble.” He stood, feeling a deep reluctance to leave. He wondered if he would ever get enough of looking at Kevin. What a marvel the child was! His big brown eyes watched Jake solemnly. Oh, how he longed to touch his son, to hold him. “Anything else you’d like?”

“Thank you, no,” she answered politely. She stood and picked up Kevin and shifted him to one hip.

As Jeb followed Amanda to the door, his gaze left his son and drifted down over her; he noticed the slight sway of her hips and her long, shapely legs. She opened the door and stepped back for him to leave. When he was outside, he looked back again at Kevin.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. She nodded and closed the door. Jeb felt as if she had slammed it shut on his hopes and dreams.

He shopped quickly, and as he drove back to her house, logic told him she would be there, getting dinner. But his emotions churned and he half expected to come back and find her house empty. Too easily, he could imagine her taking Kevin and running away.

Why hadn’t he stopped to think what he would do if she was a wonderful mother to Kevin? Kevin. Jeb liked the name. According to the detective, the child had his adoptive mother’s last name, Crockett.

When Jeb returned to her house, her black car was in the drive and relief poured over Jeb. He parked behind it and picked up the sack of groceries. On impulse, he went to the back door and knocked.

She opened it and motioned to him. “Come in.”

He entered a kitchen that had mouthwatering smells of hot bread and a blackberry cobbler. He was even more aware of Amanda as she gazed up at him with those compelling crystal-green eyes. Her tangle of red hair and the tiny beads of perspiration dotting her brow gave her a sultry earthiness that was appealing. She blinked, and with a start he realized that he was staring at her. She waved her hand.

“Set the groceries there,” she said, motioning toward a space on the countertop. “Kevin isn’t into steaks and salad. He gets macaroni.”

Jeb placed the grocery sack on the counter and took out the steaks to unwrap them. All the time he worked, he was conscious of Amanda moving around him, of her perfume, of her steady, watchful gaze. She looked at him as though she had invited a monster into her kitchen. Her house was comfortable and appealing, but the kitchen was small, and when he brushed against her accidentally, he was acutely conscious of touching her.

“Sorry,” he muttered, glancing at her. She looked up and once more they were caught, gazes locked and sparks that he didn’t want to feel igniting. Her lips were rosy and full, a sensuous mouth that conjured up speculation about what it would be like to kiss her. He realized where his thoughts were going and turned away, bumping a chair.

What was the matter with him? He was reacting to her like a sixteen-year-old to a sexy woman, yet Amanda Crockett had done nothing to warrant any blatant male attention. He needed to remember that this woman was tearing up his life and that he was getting ready to tear up hers. If only she would do the right thing, acknowledge that Kevin was his son and simply hand him over. She had no right to take his child from him.

Hope began to flicker that she would be reasonable, realize she had taken a child from his father. Then he glanced across the kitchen into her eyes, which held fire in their depths, and he was certain that wasn’t going to happen.

Dinner was a silent, strained event with little conversation by anyone. Jeb began to wonder about his son, who seemed shy and too quiet. Kevin was the only one with an appetite and he ate his macaroni, his bread and butter, and drank his milk.

“You’ve been in the army?” Amanda asked.

“The Eighty-second Airborne. I was a paratrooper.”

She inhaled sharply. For some reason he had a suspicion she didn’t approve, yet she probably didn’t approve of anything about him.

“Do you and Cherie keep in contact?” he asked.

“Very little,” she added, carefully. “I haven’t seen her in three years,” she said glancing at Kevin, and Jeb wondered if Kevin thought Amanda was his blood mother.

“She’s a country-western singer. I’ve seen her CDs in stores.”

“I’ve seen them, too,” Amanda replied, “but I haven’t seen Cherie. She’s remarried.”

“Right, for the third time,” he added dryly. “To the actor, Ken Webster.”

“You know a lot about her.”

“I hired a detective. I got all this information from him.” As Jeb talked, only half paying attention to their conversation, he tried to think what he could do about his son. His attention slid back to Kevin. “How old are you, Kevin?” he asked quietly, knowing the answer.

Kevin held up three fingers.

“Three years old. That’s getting very big. Do you go to pre-school?”

Kevin shook his head.

“Not yet. He’s enrolled for next fall,” Amanda said, touching Kevin. She constantly reached out to pat his shoulder or brush his hair from his forehead, and Jeb wondered whether she was affectionate all the time or whether she was giving Kevin attention out of worry now. Jeb leaned back in his chair. He had little appetite, and she didn’t seem to have any, either. Yet he was happy to be with Kevin, even though the child seemed inordinately shy.

“Is macaroni your favorite food, Kevin?”

Kevin shook his head while Amanda answered, “His favorite is chocolate ice cream. Maybe chocolate cake is a second favorite and then chicken drumsticks.” Her answer was perfunctory, her thoughts still churning.

Glancing over the food on the table, Amanda could hardly eat. What kind of battle lay ahead of her? Was Kevin going to be one of those children she had seen on the television news and in the paper—a child who had two people battling over him while he was always pictured as crying and unhappy?

She was sick at the thought. Every time she looked into Jeb Stuart’s brown eyes, she could see his determination, and every time he looked at Kevin, she could see his longing. He wanted his son.

That knowledge tore at her because at the time of Kevin’s birth, when Cherie wanted Amanda to take the baby, Cherie had sworn Jeb hadn’t wanted his child. Had he had a change of heart or was he telling her the truth—that he really hadn’t known? Amanda suspected that he was telling the truth. He looked earnest enough.

She couldn’t imagine having one of those horrible battles that hurt Kevin badly. She felt as if Jeb Stuart wanted to cut her heart out and take it with him. She realized he was staring at her, and she guessed he must have asked her a question.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I see a child’s swing in your backyard. Will there be time before Kevin goes to bed to go outside with him and play?”

“Sure,” she answered easily. “We’re finished. As soon as I clean the kitchen, we’ll go outside. Want to?” she asked Kevin, and he nodded. He started to stand.

“Wait. What do you say?”

“May I be ’scused?”

“Yes, you may,” she answered, and Kevin slid off his chair and ran to get his toys.

When she stood, Jeb Stuart rose also and picked up dishes. “I can clean up,” she said.

“This is no trouble,” he answered politely, and she thought how civil they were being to each other, yet what a sham it was. She knew he was doing it for Kevin’s sake, just as she was.

In her small kitchen she could not avoid bumping against Jeb. Each time she was intensely conscious of the physical contact. Every nerve tingled. Jeb Stuart looked full of raw energy, and she wondered if he would make her as nervous if Kevin weren’t the connection between them.

Making a rumbling noise like an imaginary motor, Kevin sat on the floor, playing with one of his toy cars. He was so little, too vulnerable. While she watched him, her eyes blurred. She couldn’t give up her child! As pain came in waves, she fought a rising panic. Trying to gain control of her emotions, she didn’t want to cry in front of Jeb Stuart. I’m Kevin’s legal mother. But she had seen the pain in Jeb’s eyes and she knew he was entitled to his son. She was losing Kevin! She felt queasy, as though she were going to lose the little she had eaten for dinner. She turned on the cold water and ran some over her hand, then patted the back of her neck and her forehead.

“Are you all right?”

His voice was quiet and deep and he was right beside her. She looked up into his inscrutable dark eyes and wondered if they were both headed for dreadful heartache. She feared that no one was going to win in this situation, least of all Kevin.

“I’m all right,” she said stiffly, turning to blindly rinse a plate and place it in the dishwasher. A hand closed gently on her wrist. Feeling his touch to her toes, she looked up at him.

“Go outside with Kevin. I’ll finish this and join you.”

She didn’t argue. After drying her hands, she took Kevin’s hand and headed outside, thankful to escape her kitchen, which now seemed smaller than ever and filled with the electrifying presence of the most disturbing male she had ever encountered. She still tingled from that casual touch of his hand on her arm. At the kitchen door, she glanced back over her shoulder.

Jeb stood watching her, and the moment their gazes met, another lightning bolt of awareness streaked through her. His midnight eyes were riveting and sexy. She felt a raw edginess around him that she suspected she would have experienced even if Kevin had not been a factor in their relationship. As they gazed at each other, the moment stretched between them, tense, breathtaking, until she turned abruptly. Hurrying outside, she tried to catch her breath and ignore her racing heart.

When Jeb joined them, she was swinging Kevin, and the child was smiling. Jeb stood watching and she was grateful for his patience and caution around Kevin. She knew Kevin was shy, and he became even more withdrawn if someone forced attention on him.

Time seemed to stretch into aeons until they went inside. She bathed Kevin and tucked him into bed. When she kissed him good-night, she held him close. He hugged her and then lay on his pillow. “Mama, who is Mr. Stuart?”

“He’s a friend, Kevin,” she answered slowly, wondering how to tell Kevin the truth. He’s your father and he’s come to take you from me ran through her mind while she looked into a pair of dark eyes so much like those of Jeb Stuart.

“I like it better when you don’t have a friend here.”

“You like it when Megan or Peg come over.”

He thought this over and nodded. “I like Megan better than Mr. Stuart.”

Amanda merely nodded and hugged Kevin again and fought tears because she didn’t want to cry in front of him. As though he sensed something amiss, he clung to her. She kissed him again and tucked him in.

“One more story, please.”

She relented and told him another story until his eyes closed and his breathing became deep. Reluctantly, she squared her shoulders, then tiptoed out of Kevin’s room and closed the door behind her.

In the small family room, Jeb Stuart stood with his back to her, staring out a darkened window at the night. She knew he was lost in his thoughts because there was nothing to see outside.

“He’s asleep.”

Jeb turned around and studied her, flicking a swift glance over her that she felt as much as if he had brushed her body with his fingertips.

“Is he always so shy?”

She shrugged and crossed the room to sit down on the sofa, folding her legs beneath her. “He’s shy, but he’s even more shy with you because he’s seldom been around men. He sees me and his nanny, his Sunday school teachers, my friends and, on rare occasions, my aunt, and they’re all women.”

She received another assessing gaze. “You’re pretty,” Jeb said.

“Thank you,” she answered perfunctorily, because she suspected he was going somewhere with his remark, and her wariness increased. Even as her defenses rose, on another level, she was pleased by his assessment.

“You’re too attractive to be single unless there’s a good reason. I know this is a blunt question, but you and I are going to have to do some serious talking. Why haven’t you married and had your own children?”

She raised her chin. It had been a long time now since she had thought about marriage, and having Kevin had taken most of the sting out of the question, because Kevin had helped her lose a lot of her feelings of inadequacy.

“Why haven’t you remarried and had more children?” she shot back at him.

“I had one unhappy marriage, and I’m not ready to marry again. So back to my question—why haven’t you married and had kids of your own?”

Like a lot of other people, she had secrets she didn’t care to share. Jeb Stuart’s question was personal, and she knew she could refuse to answer him or give him one of the two or three casual replies she had given on dates, but she saw no reason now to be anything except totally honest.

“I can’t have children of my own,” she replied, looking him squarely in the eye, feeling an old familiar pain.

Two

“Sorry. And I’m sorry to pry into your private life.”

She nodded, appreciating his apology and fighting an urge to like him. “When I was engaged, my doctor discovered a tumor and I had to have surgery. I’m fine, except I won’t ever be able to have children. My fiancé decided that I wasn’t really a complete woman, and he broke our engagement.”

As Jeb closed his eyes and looked as if he had received a blow, she could guess what was running through his mind. “That was one of the reasons I agreed to adopt Cherie’s baby, but it has little to do with why I love Kevin so much now.”

“But you’ll be much less willing to give him up because of it.”

She bristled and swung her legs to the floor, coming to her feet to face him. “I’m not willing to give him up now because he’s my son! He’s my son as much as if I had given birth to him. I got him when he was a day old. Cherie didn’t even want to see him! She hated being pregnant. I love him because he’s my baby and has been since he was born!”

Jeb rubbed his forehead. “Lord help us both,” he mumbled, hearing her agony and watching tears stream unheeded down her face. He hurt, too, and he couldn’t give up his son. “What do you want me to do? Walk out that door and forget that I have a son?”

They stared at each other, and he knew her emotions were as raw as his. She was shaking and white as snow again. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose, and when she became pale they stood out clearly. As she clutched her stomach and ran from the room, he felt as if he had just beaten her.

While he was alone, he paced the room and wondered whether he should just go and try to get back with her later, but that was only putting off what was inevitable. They were each going to have to give or else they would end up hurting Kevin, and Jeb didn’t think she would want that any more than he did.

When she returned, she looked even more pale. She moved to the sofa and sat with her feet on the floor. She looked small and hurt and defiant and he felt like a bastard for what he was doing, but he wasn’t going to give up his son to save Amanda Crockett’s feelings. He pulled a chair to face her and sat down. “We’ll have to work something out.”

“I don’t know anything about you.”

“I grew up on a ranch in Saratoga County. I have three brothers—Cameron, a rancher, lives near here with his wife, Stella, on the family land. It’s ironic that you left Houston and moved close to my family and home. My brother Selby and his wife, Jan, live in El Paso. He’s with the DEA. The youngest brother, Burke, leads wilderness treks. He and his wife, Alexa, have a home in Houston, so they’re not far away.”

“You were a paratrooper, you have a brother with the DEA and another who leads wilderness treks— your family is a little on the wild side.”

He shrugged. “I’m settled now. I bought land southwest of here and I’m raising horses. I hoped to take Kevin there.”

“You weren’t a rancher when you were married to Cherie, were you? I thought she told me she had married someone who worked in Houston.”

“I did. As soon as I graduated from Tech, I was hired as a salesman for a Houston feed company. After the second year I was promoted to district superintendent, then in another couple of years, director of marketing. That’s when I was married to her. I couldn’t have afforded Cherie before then.” He looked away as if seeing his past, and she wondered if he was lost in memories and talking out loud. “When we met, Cherie was charming, seductive, adorable. As long as she got her way, she stayed charming, but when I quit work and wanted to become a rancher, that’s when her true personality emerged. I was wildly in love with her when we married because she seemed to be everything a man could want.”

“I can imagine,” Amanda said quietly, knowing her beautiful cousin could be delightful as long as things went her way, but when they didn’t, she could be dreadful.

“Why did you decide to become a rancher?”

Jeb shrugged. “The corporate world was not for me. I grew up on a ranch, too, and I wanted to get back to that life.”

He studied her, and silence stretched tensely between them. “If you thought I had abandoned Kevin and Cherie, why did you cut all ties to your past and hide your tracks when you moved from Houston to Dallas?”

As she flushed and bit her lip and looked guilty, he wondered if she had been leading him on with an act. How much was she like Cherie? he wondered again.

“I guess deep down there was a part of me that doubted Cherie,” Amanda said, so softly that he had to lean forward to hear her, yet leaning closer was a tactical error because he could smell her perfume, see her flawless skin, watch as her tongue slid slowly across her lower lip. His body heat rose and momentarily he lost awareness of anything except a desirable woman sitting inches away. He had to fight the urge to reach out and touch her.

She twisted a string from her cutoffs in her fingers. “I wanted to believe her when she said you didn’t care and you had gone, but my cousin has never been a stickler for the truth. She tells things to suit herself. I was scared of just what’s happening now. That someday the doorbell would ring and there would be Kevin’s father—you—wanting him back.” She looked Jeb in the eye. “Maybe I shouldn’t have made it difficult for you to find us, but from all indications, you weren’t a man I wanted to get to know.”

“I suppose not, since I can take him from you.”

“I don’t think you can,” she said coolly, and he realized she was pulling herself together more and more as they talked. “Cherie has gotten mixed up with people in the past that I didn’t want to know. Her choice in men would never be mine. Sorry, that doesn’t sound complimentary, but Cherie and I are very different.”

“So I’m noticing,” he remarked dryly. He wondered if she realized exactly how guilty she looked. But she was different from Cherie. Cherie was a charmer when she wanted something, flirting and using her feminine wiles to sweet-talk someone into doing what she wanted. He had been charmed completely, but marriage had brought reality and another side to Cherie that was far from charming. Cherie would never have been as forthright as Amanda.

Amanda caught another string on her cutoffs and twisted it back and forth between her thumb and forefinger. Otherwise, she looked quiet and composed. He watched her hand, noticing that her fingers were delicate and slender. She did not wear any rings and wore a simple watch with a leather strap circling her wrist.

“I suppose we’re going to have to work something out to share him,” she said stiffly, and each word sounded wrung from her in agony. “Unless you’re still intent on going to court and trying to take him from me completely. If you do that, I’m going to fight you and we’ll just end up hurting him.”

“I agree.”

She let out a long breath and closed her eyes. “Thank you!” she said. “We agree on that much. Kevin should come first.”

“If he came first completely one of us would give him up.”

She opened her eyes to look at him and he could see the speculation in them. “Maybe not. Maybe he needs a father as well as a mother. But I have to know how you’ll be with him. There are things I don’t approve of.”

Jeb’s temper flared and he leaned closer. “Lady, I’m his father. Whether you approve or not, I’ll do what I think is best for my son. I won’t abuse him, but I suspect I’ll let him do things that you and that nanny and the other women in his life would be afraid to let him do. He acts scared of his shadow now.”

“He’s just shy,” she said defensively. She studied him as if trying to figure him out. “Would you strike a child?”

“Never. It shouldn’t ever be necessary.” Green eyes searched his, and he gazed back steadfastly.

“I hope you’re telling me the truth,” she said. “Is there any way that you can prove to me that you knew nothing about Cherie’s pregnancy? How do I know that you didn’t abandon him and now that Cherie has a successful career, you’ve decided you want your son after all?”

“I can find the person who told me, and you can talk to her. It was Polly McQuarters. She knows I wasn’t putting on an act. And what difference would it make to me whether Cherie’s career is soaring? You’ve legally adopted her child.”

“She’s set money up in a trust for him.”

“I don’t need or want Cherie’s money. I’ll bring you records of my income and my net worth.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Amanda said, rubbing her temples.

“I told you about my brothers. There’s another family member I haven’t mentioned—my mother.”

“Kevin’s grandmother,” Amanda whispered, closing her eyes and experiencing a blow to her middle. A father and now another grandmother. She could feel her child slipping away from her, yet she knew she couldn’t fight to shut those two important people out of his life. She opened her eyes to discover Jeb watching her intently.

“I haven’t told Mom about her grandson yet. I want you and Kevin to meet her.”

“Of course, Kevin should meet her.” Amanda laced her fingers together. “It’s a shock—to open the door and find Kevin’s father and learn he has three uncles and a grandmother. Is there anyone else you haven’t told me about?”

“Nope. My father’s no longer living. My mother is Lila Stuart and she’s raised four boys and she was a damned good mother. She lives in Elvira, a small town near my ranch and Cameron’s. She’s Elvira’s mayor.”

“How will I break this to Kevin? He’s shy around men. Could you just start coming over and getting to know him and then I tell him?”

“I think it would be better to tell him from the start and then I get to know him. Either way it’s a shock, but he’s only three. Little kids accept life as it comes.”

She caught her lower lip in her small white, teeth. As she gazed into space beyond him, Jeb studied her, thinking she must have been engaged to a real jerk. He thought of Cherie and he could see little resemblance between the cousins. Cherie was a blue-eyed blonde, drop-dead gorgeous, with a lush figure. Her cousin had a more earthy look with her riot of red hair and a smattering of freckles, but, in her own way, she was a beautiful woman. He pulled his train of thoughts away from her and focused on Kevin.

“What have you told Kevin about being adopted?”

“I’ve told him the truth, but he’s only three and I don’t think he cares or understands. I always tell him how much I wanted him and how much I love him.”

“Can you be more specific about ‘the truth’—what did you tell him about me?”

“I told him his mother had to give him up because she moved far away and that she’s my cousin. He hasn’t seemed to realize that he’s never even seen her since the day he was born. I told him that his father was in the army and far away. And I told Kevin I wanted him badly and loved him with all my heart. It’s pretty simplified, but he accepts that, and when he gets older and wants to know more, I figured I would explain more. At this point in his life, he doesn’t seem to care.”

“Sounds good enough,” Jeb said, thinking over her answer. “What about Maude—Cherie’s mother?”

“Kevin knows Aunt Maude is his grandmother, and she’s seen him five or six times, but since she remarried and moved to California, she’s out of touch and she doesn’t seem deeply interested in him. She’s more interested than Cherie is though, because she sends him birthday and Christmas presents and calls him once a year. At the time I adopted him, she went to court with me. Aunt Maude said I’d make a better mother than Cherie.”

“I’m sure you do.” He thought about the rest of the week. “Would you like to come out to my ranch tomorrow night and bring Kevin? I’ll pick you up, take you out there for dinner and bring you home early so he can get to bed.”

“Are you that close to the city?”

“It’s a long drive—about an hour and a half—but I don’t mind. I think we’d better start getting acquainted.”

Nodding, she gave him another searching stare. “Are you dating anyone?”

“No, and I don’t intend to marry again.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and she shook her head. “You look like a man who likes women and vice versa.”

“I do like women, but I don’t want to get married. Or at least not for a long, long time. Maybe someday, because I’d like more children. I was a fool about Cherie and I don’t ever want to go through all that pain again,” he said, being completely honest with her because they were going to have to work something out. “Our marriage was wonderful for a time, but then it went really bad.” Jeb stood. “I’ll leave now and pick you up tomorrow evening. Is half past five too early?” he asked, knowing she got home before that time each day.

“That’s fine,” she said, standing and walking to the door with him. The top of her head came to his shoulder, and as he looked down at her, conflicting emotions warred in him. He didn’t want to find her desirable. He wasn’t happy that he wanted to touch her and soothe her and stop hurting her.

“We’ll work it out. Kevin is the main consideration, and we’ll just have to share him.”

“I can do that,” she said, but she sounded worried. “I want to know that you’ll be good to him. I don’t know anything about you except that you married Cherie and fathered Kevin.”

“You and I will get to know each other.” He hesitated. “Do you have a picture of Kevin I can have?”

“Yes,” She left to return in minutes with a picture in a small frame. “I have a lot of pictures. Here’s one you can take. I’ll look for some more and give them to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

They both looked at the picture of the smiling child. “He was two when that was taken,” she said softly. Jeb noticed that when she talked about Kevin or to him, her tone filled with a special warmth. “He looks very much like you.”

“Even I can see a resemblance,” Jeb said. “There’s no mistaking he’s mine,” he added grimly, knowing that Cherie hadn’t been faithful to him. He glanced at Amanda. “Thanks for the picture.”

“I have another copy of it in a scrapbook.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

She opened the door and he left, striding down the walk to his car. Jeb drove away, his emotions still churning. Nothing had gone the way he had imagined it would. Why hadn’t he stopped to think how attached his son would be to his mother? He supposed hurt and anger got in the way of reason. He was going to have to share Kevin. It could be worse, and Amanda Crockett might be a very nice person. How much was she like her cousin? So far, damn little, or she wouldn’t have taken Kevin in the first place.

The boy was too shy. Jeb hoped Kevin would get over his shyness. From the looks of it, he needed a man in his life. Jeb’s thoughts shifted to Amanda Crockett and her broken engagement. He could hear the hurt in her voice and he knew why she had taken Kevin. She would fight to keep him because he would be the only child in her life. The ex-fiancé was a real jerk, Jeb thought again.

Amanda Crockett. Jeb thought about the statistics the detective had brought him about her: parents deceased, only child, no family except an aunt, Maude Whitaker, and a cousin, Cherie Webster, twenty-eight years old, an audiologist, no men in her life, attends church each week, a large circle of friends, a broken engagement two years after college. Now he knew more—her perfume, whose scent lingered in his memory, her tenderness with Kevin, her full red lips and long slender legs, and that mass of unruly red hair that had to mean there was a less serious side to her. He had to admit that when they touched or looked into each other’s eyes, some fiery chemistry occurred. Sparks flew between them, and he suspected she didn’t want to feel any attraction, either, but in those moments, he had seen the change in the depths of her eyes, the sultry intensity. He had felt a tightening in his body, a sheer physical response to nothing more than that exchange of looks.

“Forget it,” he growled under his breath, trying to concentrate on the problems ahead.

When Jeb reached his ranch, a full moon spilled silver beams over the sprawling land. Feeling restless, he put the car next to his black pickup in the garage and began to walk, heading toward a pasture where some of his horses were. Two of them raised their heads and came to the fence near him. He stopped to talk to them, wishing he had brought an apple with him.

He moved on, knowing sleep wasn’t going to come. How would they divide their time with Kevin? Half a month with one parent, half with the other? Weeks with one, weekends with the other? They would have to go to court, get lawyers involved and get it all settled legally, and he dreaded the entire process. The disruption in Kevin’s life wouldn’t endear him to a man who had been a complete stranger until half past five this afternoon.

Jeb swore, striding fast, turning and going back to his house to get his running shoes. He switched on lights in his kitchen, which was big and roomy and had oak cabinets and stainless steel equipment. He thought about her tiny kitchen, remembering the times he had brushed against her. The lady sizzled effortlessly. She had an effect on him that set his pulse racing. “Think about something else,” he told himself.

In February he had bought the ranch—including the house, which was only four years old—from a family moving to Arizona, and he had spent little time doing anything to it. He strode down the hall to his big bedroom. He had a king-size bed, a desk and little else.

Pulling on his running shoes he left the house, breaking into a jog. His nerves were ragged, his emotions still churning. Cherie.

What a bitch she had been! Hiding her pregnancy from him and letting him walk out without knowing about his baby. Giving the baby away instantly. Jeb wondered why she hadn’t had an abortion, knowing she would have no qualms about it. Maybe she didn’t realize she was pregnant until it was too late to get one legally. He was still surprised that had stopped her, but then he remembered Cherie had told him about a good friend in high school who had died from a botched illegal abortion. Maybe fear had deterred her. His thoughts jumped to Kevin.

Tomorrow night he was bringing his son to the ranch! The thought of having Kevin cheered him immeasurably and he began to plan. He would barbecue a chicken and get extra drumsticks since Amanda said that was one of Kevin’s favorite foods. He thought of Popcorn, a small, gentle pinto mare. Maybe Kevin would like to ride her.

Jeb yanked off his shirt and tossed it over a bush beside the road where he could pick it up on his way back to the house. Sweat poured off him as his thoughts danced around the possibilities. This Friday he was riding in the county rodeo. Would Amanda let Kevin come and watch? Jeb suspected that Amanda was going to be less than enthusiastic to learn about his rodeoing.

How would they divide the time? Kevin was so accustomed to being with Amanda, would he resent having to be with Jeb?

Question after question swirled in Jeb’s mind as he wondered about the future and went over the past few hours, from the moment he had first looked up and had seen Kevin standing in the doorway, staring sleepily at Amanda.

When his muscles were aching, Jeb jogged back home, knowing he was no closer to answers to his questions than he had been when he started. As he passed the barn and bunkhouse, a tall figure emerged from the shadows.

“Kinda late run, isn’t it? How’d it go with your son?”

Jeb slowed and wiped sweat from his forehead with his shirt as he faced Jake Reiner, a fellow saddle bronc rider and horse trainer who was working with some new horses Jeb had bought. Jake was shirtless, wearing jeans, with his shaggy black hair hanging loosely on his shoulders.

“Not like I expected.”

“When does anything go like you expect it to?” Jake drawled, lounging against the corral fence.

“I saw Kevin and talked to him a little. He’s shy.”

“He just doesn’t know you. What about his mama?”

“I’m sure she hates me, but she’s being cooperative, all things considered.”

“Cooperative? When you left here, you sounded as if you would storm her house and bring your son home with you.”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t stop to think what I’d do if she and my son were very close and he loved her deeply. Which seems to be the case. And she was told that I abandoned him. My ex-wife was a congenital liar.”

“I’ve seen Cherie. Most men wouldn’t care whether she was a congenital liar or a kleptomaniac. She is one beautiful woman. Is her cousin as beautiful?”

“Not in the same way.”

“In other words, no.” Jake shook his hair away from his face. “So where is your son?”

“I’m bringing them both to the ranch for supper tomorrow night. Want to join us?”

Jake grinned. “No, thank you. I’ll leave the family gathering to you. She may look at you as possible marriage material.”

“No, she won’t. She was hurt by an ex-fiancé, and I think she’s as uninterested in marriage as I am.”

“If she is, she’d be the first female I’ve ever known. ’Course, I don’t know her yet, but there’s no such thing as a woman who doesn’t want to marry.”

Jeb laughed. “I should have come and talked to you instead of wearing myself down with all my running. Sure you don’t want to join us for supper?”

“I’m sure. I’m not much for the domestic scene.”

“If you change your mind, come to the house about seven. We should be here by then.”

“Sure.”

“How’s Mercury?” Jake asked, referring to a wild two-year-old sorrel he had acquired.

“He’s gentling down. Give me another day.”

“Good. You can’t sleep, either.”

“Naw. Some nights are good, some aren’t.”

Jeb nodded. “See you,” he said, wondering again about Jake’s past and what demons plagued him. They had known each other from the rodeo circuit and then they had grown close when they had been together through scrapes in the army. Jake had saved Jeb’s life once when Jeb had been shot rescuing an American diplomat who had been taken hostage in Colombia. Yet as close as they had become, there was always a part of Jake shut away from even his best friend. Whatever it was, that dark secret kept Jake on the move.

Jeb turned and jogged to the house, glad Jake was with him, because his friend was one of the best horse trainers in the country. Jake wouldn’t put down roots anywhere long enough to really build up his reputation with horses. Jeb knew he couldn’t worry about Jake’s wanderlust—when Jake was ready to move on, he would move on.

Thinking about Amanda, Jeb showered and sprawled across his big bed, sleep as elusive as ever. Neither one of them was going to like dividing Kevin’s time between them.

Jeb stared into the darkness, his thoughts racing over possibilities. What if he talked Amanda into moving to his ranch? With three bedrooms and three baths, there was plenty of room. During the day when she was at work, he would be as good as any nanny. While he worked, he could take Kevin with him, and if he couldn’t, he had Mrs. Fletcher, who cooked and cleaned for him four days a week. She was a grandmother to ten kids, so she would be good to Kevin.

Jeb sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. He slid off the bed and began to pace around the room, switching on a bedside lamp as he thought about the idea of having Amanda Crockett share his house and his life. If they weren’t married or dating, they probably wouldn’t get in each other’s way and they could share Kevin. His ranch house was sprawling and roomy. They would have to share their lives, but maybe they could manage it for Kevin. All week she would be gone during the day. He would be gone all day Saturday.

He shook his head at the thought of a woman underfoot all the time, and he guessed she would take an even less enthusiastic view about having him around. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. Scratch that idea.

Half an hour later the idea came back to him and he mulled it over until the first rays of daylight grayed the night and spilled through the windows. He debated with himself about talking it over with her, but the thought of presenting the idea of them living together at his ranch gave him a queasy stomach. And he could imagine it would take her all of three seconds to kill the notion.

Tuesday evening he was again on Amanda’s porch, his nerves jangling as he punched the doorbell. When she opened it and smiled, his pulse jumped. Revealing her even white teeth, her smile held so much warmth, he wanted to reach out and touch her.

“We’re ready. Want to come in a moment while I get my purse and Kevin’s things?”

“Sure,” Jeb answered, and stepped inside. Without the screen door between them, he could get a better look at her. She motioned him toward the living room. “I’ll get Kevin.”

She wore a blue sundress that left her pale shoulders bare, and with her hair tied in a ponytail, she looked about twenty years old. She didn’t have the breathtaking dazzle her blond cousin did, but she was incredibly good-looking.

“Hi, Kevin,” Jeb said warmly when the little boy ran into the hall. Instantly Kevin slowed and looked up at Jeb.

“’Lo,” he said. Amanda appeared and took his hand.

“I’ll lock up, so go ahead and we’ll be right out.”

Jeb nodded and stepped outside to wait.

Amanda locked the house, switched on the alarm and took Kevin’s hand. Dressed in a yellow sunsuit, Kevin clutched his blanket and a small book. As Amanda strolled toward the car, carrying Kevin’s car seat, Jeb took it from her, their hands brushing. “I’ll buckle this in.”

Opening the door, Jeb put the car seat in the back, and Amanda went around to the other side to help.

“These aren’t the easiest things to fasten in place,” she said. When her hands brushed his again, a current shot through her, and she looked up to meet his gaze.

He was only inches away from her and his dark eyes bore into her. While he studied her, there was no denying that she felt something, yet she didn’t believe in chemistry between men and women and she didn’t want to feel any magic with this man.

With an effort she looked down at the seat and tried to catch her breath. Jeb had placed a strap in the wrong place and she took it from him, too aware of each contact with his warm fingers. She fastened the strap quickly. “Come on, Kevin.”

He climbed into the seat and buckled it while she fastened her own belt and Jeb slid behind the wheel.

“My ranch is southwest of town. It’s in the direction of your office.”

“You know where I work? Oh, the detective you hired told you. I forgot for a minute. I suppose you know a lot about me.”

“A lot of statistics. Where you work, where you go to church, that from all indications you’re a good mother now.”

“How could a detective decide I’m a good mom?”

“The statistics prove that—you take Kevin places on the weekend, see that he gets to visit his friends, have him on a waiting list for private school, that sort of stuff.”

She turned slightly in the seat to look at Jeb. Dressed in a pale blue shirt and tight jeans, he was ruggedly handsome. He didn’t seem as intimidating as he had during those first few hours, although he was blatantly masculine. She glanced at his long legs and then shifted her gaze outside.

“Will I see horses?” Kevin asked.

“Yes, you’ll see horses, and we have a pond with ducks and baby ducklings,” Jeb replied.

Kevin clapped his hands, and Amanda twisted in the seat and saw a sparkle in his dark eyes.

“He’s going to have fun,” she said solemnly, turning back to look at Jeb again. Was he going to win her son’s affections swiftly? With a twinge of guilt, she wondered about jealousy, but she knew that, instead of jealousy, it was more fear that she felt, fear that she might lose Kevin completely. But that was ridiculous. Jeb might be very good for Kevin, but she didn’t see how she could ever lose the bond she had with her son. She didn’t know what his teen years would hold, but she didn’t have to worry about them yet.

Later that evening the same fears and questions rose in her mind as she watched Jeb playing ball with Kevin in his backyard. Laughing, Kevin kicked a big red ball and it rolled along the ground, hit a rock and bounced beneath the rail fence. Jeb’s long legs stretched out as he dashed to retrieve the ball. He jumped the fence easily, scooped up the ball and threw it back to Kevin. She watched Jeb leap back over the fence with ease and realized how strong and agile he was—how very male. Kevin needed a man in his life, and Jeb Stuart was going to be good for her son. That thought both tore at her and cheered her. But she didn’t need a man in her life and she didn’t want to find Jeb attractive or appealing or allow him to become an important part of her life.

Later, she perched on a fence and watched Kevin ride Jeb’s gentle pinto mare. Next, they went to the pond to see the ducks, then walked back to the house where they had bowls of ice cream. Afterward, they moved to the family room and Kevin got out a coloring book Amanda had brought for him. In seconds he was asleep on the floor.

“It’s time for us to go home,” Amanda said. “I suppose we should have left when we finished the ice cream, but he was having a good time. You won him over tonight with the horseback ride and the ducks and playing ball with him. He’s always loved to play ball.”

“He’s a great kid, but then I’m prejudiced.”

“Yes, he is,” she said, looking at Jeb. He was seated in a large leather chair, his booted feet propped on an ottoman in front of him. He appeared as relaxed as Kevin until she looked into his brown eyes. His determined gaze made her heart a skip a beat.

“Kevin is already asleep, so why don’t we take this time to talk about what we’re going to do. I thought about it all last night.”

“So did I,” she answered quietly, wondering if he had slept as little as she had. She wished she could put off ever making decisions about how she would share her son with this forceful stranger.

“Good. I’d like to tell him that I’m his father.”

“Isn’t it a little soon?”

“I don’t think so. Kids accept life as it comes to them. I want him to know the truth. Can I come get both of you and bring you here for dinner again tomorrow night and tell him?”

She knew it was useless to tell him that he was rushing her. She gazed into his dark eyes and could see the steely determination, so she merely nodded. A knot burned her throat once again. She wished she could just gather up Kevin and run too far away for Jeb Stuart to find them. He was talking to her and she tried to focus on him.

“Kids adjust to whatever life hands them. You’ll see.”

She knew he was right, but she was having difficulty adjusting to anything concerning Jeb Stuart. There was, however, no point in postponing the inevitable. She nodded. “Fine.”

Jeb stood with an easy grace. “I’ll be right back. I have something to show you.” He left, and she looked around the large family room that she could almost fit half her house into. The stone fireplace was immense. Bookshelves lined one wall—all empty. He said he had only lived here since February and he hadn’t bought much furniture. That was an understatement. He had a large leather sofa and a big matching brown leather chair, two end tables, lamps and nothing else. The plank floor held a shine and everything looked neat and clean, but the room was so bare it looked as if he had moved in yesterday. She thought about her home, which was filled with pictures and books and plants, and wondered if he found it cluttered.

She was already saving money for Kevin’s education and she didn’t want to use her savings. In any case, she would have to hire a lawyer to help her with the legalities of whatever arrangement they worked out. She rubbed her temples. She had had a dull headache since yesterday when she had opened the door and looked up at Jeb.