Montana Cowboy Daddy (Wyatt Brothers of Montana Book 3) Read online

  “That was so scary.”

  “I’d like to see the film. It happened so fast.”

  “Have you ever been hurt this badly before?”

  “Oh sure, but not often. I’ve been lucky.”

  She nodded, but she didn’t look reassured.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he added. “It’s one reason my mom wouldn’t watch us compete. She said it made her too nervous, what with all the things that could go wrong.”

  “I totally relate.” Erika glanced around, and then looked back at him. “I have to use the restroom—”

  “Again?” he teased.

  It took her a moment to get the joke and then she shook her head, smiling. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “That’s an awfully big word for a man with a concussion.” And then he nodded to the small bathroom in the corner of his room. “You could use mine.”

  “They say not to.”

  “It’s my restroom. The hospital will be billing me for it.”

  “In that case, can I just leave Beck here with you? I left his car seat in the car, but I can slide him into your good arm.” And without waiting for a reply, she tucked the baby into the crook of his uninjured arm, adjusting his hand, with the IV, before disappearing into the bathroom.

  When she emerged a few minutes later, he stopped her from taking Beck back. “It’s okay,” he said. “Leave him with me. It’s good to have him here.”

  She stood uncertainly at his side. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Double cheeseburger and fries?”

  “Now?”

  “Probably not now, but I’d love it if you brought me some tomorrow. And a vanilla shake. Large.”

  Erika slowly smiled until even her eyes crinkled. “I can do that.”

  “Good.” Billy paused. “And thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For everything.” He nodded down at the baby. “But most of all, finding me.”

  Her smile wasn’t completely steady. “You mean that?”

  “I do. Beck needs me. I realized earlier that if something happened to me there are others in the family who’d take care of Beck, just as my grandfather stepped in when my dad died. But I don’t want others raising my son. I want to raise him. I want to teach him all the things I wish my dad had taught me.”

  Her expression changed, shadows flickering in her eyes before she managed a smile. “If you mean that, Beck will be the luckiest boy alive.”

  *

  Back at the hotel that evening Erika gave Beck his dinner and a bath and got him down to bed, but she remained restless and anxious and overly emotional.

  She’d been so afraid when Billy had gotten hurt. She’d felt panic, but something else, something like pain. She’d hurt. She’d been afraid for him, but she’d also been afraid for herself, and that didn’t make sense. Why should she hurt? She barely knew him. And yet, in that moment where she wasn’t afraid he’d live, all she wanted was him in one piece, all she wanted was him to be okay.

  She’d maybe even prayed in those terrible moments, and she wasn’t one to pray, having been raised by a mom who viewed religion as a special kind of hell, a crutch for people who were too weak to handle life without someone telling them how to think, and who to be.

  But she had prayed, because her heart burned, her chest squeezing tight, and she didn’t think she’d ever breathe properly if he didn’t get up, if he couldn’t walk away.

  In the end, he was okay, but it had broken something loose inside of her, creating chaos and confusion that hadn’t been there before.

  She liked Billy Wyatt a lot.

  She liked him more than she should.

  Her feelings for him were more than just a passing interest and that was a problem. Being near him was becoming a problem. Her dream hadn’t come out of nowhere. A part of her had known she was falling for him. A part of her had been warning her and she hadn’t been paying attention.

  Or maybe she had, and she just didn’t want to admit it.

  Troubled, she pulled out her computer and set it up on the bed, determined to get some work done. She needed to accomplish something, feel in control of something, but as fifteen minutes turned to thirty, and she was still staring at her screen, her hands in her lap instead of the keyboard, she knew she wasn’t going to get anything significant done. Not tonight. Not after today.

  The accident had happened so quickly. The chute had opened. The horse had leaped out and then within seconds the horse was rolling over Billy and giving him a kick for good measure.

  She hadn’t seen the accident coming. Maybe that was why they were called accidents, you didn’t expect them, and they came out of nowhere, crashing into reality, destroying all sense of safety, and control.

  First April’s accident and now this.

  Billy could have been killed. He was lucky to just have broken bones and a concussion. Erika closed her computer and placed it on the nightstand. She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and as she looked at herself in the mirror, she saw the fear and confusion in her eyes.

  Billy did this to himself every single weekend. He willingly put himself in danger all year long. It was madness. The man wasn’t living in any reality she recognized. And yet the man mattered to her. She wanted to help him. She wanted to protect him. But how?

  Erika didn’t sleep well. She woke up still anxious and took Beck on a long morning walk, more for her sake than his. Later, she changed Beck and headed to the hospital, stopping to buy Billy the burgers, fries, and shake he’d requested last night.

  She carefully arranged the meal on his rolling hospital tray, before positioning it just so in front of him.

  She ignored the way his upper lip quirked at her presentation.

  “Want some?” he asked, reaching for a fry.

  She shook her head. “Not hungry, thank you.”

  He ate one of the burgers before speaking again. “You’re upset.”

  “I think I’m still traumatized from yesterday. That was horrible—”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “No, wrong.” She rocked Beck’s car seat with her foot. “That was a big deal. You got hurt. You could have died.”

  “But I didn’t. I’m just a little bruised—”

  “Not just bruised,” she gritted. “Broken bones everywhere.”

  “They’ll mend. I’ll be good as new in just a couple weeks.”

  She stared at him, stunned by his casual dismissal of what had happened in the ring yesterday. “What you do for a living… it’s insane. You have to be insane to think it’s okay.”

  “I don’t get hurt often.”

  “That doesn’t justify the danger.”

  “There’s danger everywhere. The world is filled with risk—”

  “But why invite risk in? Why say, hey risk, come sit at my table?” Her gaze searched his. He didn’t seem troubled. Or worried. “Billy, Beck doesn’t need you in a wheelchair, or worse.”

  “I have no intention of being in a wheelchair. Or worse. So please don’t put that out there. I don’t need the negativity.”

  The negativity.

  As if his life depended on sage and crystals.

  She ground her jaw together, molars gritted tight. He either didn’t understand his value or didn’t care. But the world wouldn’t be the same without him. Not for Beck.

  And not for her.

  *

  The nurse entered the room to take his vitals and change his urine bag and Erika took advantage of the interruption to make her escape.

  “You have a very pretty girlfriend,” the nurse said, smiling, as she checked Billy’s pulse.

  Billy was about to reply that Erika wasn’t his girlfriend and then closed his mouth. Because Erika was gorgeous, and he’d been looking forward to her coming this morning and he was sorry she’d left. “Yes, she is.”

  “That baby’s adorable, too. You’re a lucky man.”

  Warmth filled Billy’s chest and he nodded. �
��Thank you,” he said gruffly. “I feel lucky.” And not just because he’d survived yesterday, but because he had people who cared. His family. Friends. Erika.

  He knew Erika cared. He knew she wasn’t giving him grief just because she could. She was genuinely concerned, and her concern mattered. The last thing he wanted to do was worry her, but at the same time, he was a professional cowboy, and there were hazards to his occupation, and as much as he didn’t want to stress her, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—change who he was.

  The doctor arrived late in the day, and Billy asked all the questions he wanted to know, questions regarding recovery because riding, roping, and competing were central to him. His identity was that of a cowboy. He couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t competing. He’d learned back in high school if he competed well, he walked away with trophies, saddles, and belt buckles. As an established name in the PRCA, he earned big money, and now that he was a dad, he needed to provide for his boy. His earnings would give Beck a home.

  *

  Every day Erika took Beck to see Billy at the hospital. Billy had his own room which made it easier for visits. Some days she’d have to wait in the hall while nurses did whatever they did in Billy’s room, and other times he was alone when she arrived, and he’d reach for Beck, which made her happy.

  While Billy held Beck, she’d settle into a chair and chat about whatever Billy wanted to discuss. Sometimes they’d just watch the news on TV, and other times he’d ask her to read something to him on her phone. “Do you need reading glasses?” she asked him the second time he’d requested she look something up for him.

  He adjusted Beck in the crook of his arm, so that Beck could sit up properly. “No. I just… don’t read well.”

  She frowned. “But you can read.”

  “I can. I don’t find it easy, though.” He paused a beat. “I’m dyslexic. It’s not a big thing, just something I deal with.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “It’s not something I brag about.”

  “Not something to be ashamed of, either.”

  “Maybe if I’d been diagnosed younger, there would have been less shame. But I was eleven when I was diagnosed, the end of fifth grade, and by then, I hated school. I’d been labeled lazy and troubled for so many years that school felt like prison. I just didn’t want to be there.”

  She’d studied dyslexia and learning disabilities extensively as part of her program. “How did they finally figure it out?”

  “Sam did.”

  “Your brother Sam?”

  “Sam was really good in school, especially with reading and writing. One night after Mom had gotten really mad at me for bad grades, Sam offered to tutor me. It took him about a week to understand what was going on, and he was the first person to figure out that my trouble was seeing the letters. I had a difficult time decoding them. My brain didn’t ‘see’ the whole picture, and then I had trouble remembering what I did read.”

  “Visual dyslexia.”

  He nodded. “Once Sam figured it out, the school’s special education program was able to confirm it.”

  “Don’t tell me you were put in special ed.”

  “They didn’t think I was very smart.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  He smiled at her vehement tone. “I’m just glad Sam was able to help me. Sam’s smart that way. He’s always been focused. Strategic. He’d make a great general.”

  “And you’d be his foot soldier?”

  “I’d follow Sam anywhere.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “And I have.”

  “Do you like his wife?”

  “Ivy? She’s amazing. She and Sam belong together.”

  “You like Joe’s wife, too.”

  “Sophie is perfect for Joe.”

  “Does Tommy have anyone special?”

  Billy shook his head. “No. He and I are confirmed bachelors.”

  Erika was silent a moment processing everything, before asking, “Have you told your family about Beck? That he is your son?”

  “I sent a text to everyone. No one was surprised.”

  “Not even your mom?”

  He laughed. “Least of all her. She said she knew it all along.”

  Erika smiled. “I like her.”

  “She’s a good woman. She put up with all of us.” Billy shifted and his hospital gown dipped low on his chest, and peeled up on his arm, revealing more bronzed skin, and hard honed muscles, than she’d ever seen on any man. His jaw was bristled, and his hair shaggy and she looked away every time the covers came up, exposing his knee or thigh, aware that there was nothing on under his cotton gown than bandages and… skin.

  “Do you want me to take Beck back?” she asked, her pulse racing a little too fast, her voice sounding a little too breathy.

  “No, I’m good. Do I look uncomfortable?”

  She glanced back at him, the exposed collarbone on one side, and thick white bandages on the other. Even with cast and sling he looked amazing. Physical, virile, male. Incredibly male. Incredibly sexy. “I just don’t want to tire you out.”

  “You haven’t even been here a half hour.”

  “I’ve been warned not to stay too long.”

  “By whom? I’ll have a word with that person.”

  “That’s not necessary. Everyone is just trying to take good care of you.”

  “I feel great. I’m just bored, and ready to go home.”

  “Doesn’t Tommy come see you?”

  “He does, but he can’t really stay long. He’s taking care of both of our horses, and they all need exercise, food, and attention.”

  “What’s his plan? Where will he go from here?”

  “He’ll get me home and then take off, heading to the next rodeo.”

  Erika sat up a little taller. “About that… home to Montana, or home to…?”

  “Utah.”

  She was just about to ask another question when the door opened, and Sam entered the room. Billy grinned at his older brother. Sam moved in for a careful hug, not wanting to smash Beck or jostle Billy. Erika bit her lip, holding in her smile. There was so much love between brothers. It touched her. Made her feel hope. Beck was lucky to grow up in this family where men weren’t afraid to show emotion, or affection.

  “What are you doing here?” Billy asked, as Sam straightened.

  “Came to help haul your sorry self home,” Sam answered, his gaze sweeping Billy, taking in his condition. “You okay to travel?”

  “Yes. I was just telling Erika I’m ready to go.”

  Sam shot Erika a smile. “Has he been a pain?”

  “No.”

  “That’s a surprise,” he answered before looking back at his brother. “Relax, rest, and know we’re going to do our best to break you out tomorrow.”

  *

  The Wyatt brothers had sorted out logistics before Erika could even ask how they intended to get from Boise to Billy’s property with multiple vehicles, including two four-wheel drive trucks, her car, two trailers, four horses, an injured cowboy, and a five-month-old baby. But it had been handled, with Sam planning on leaving his truck in Boise to drive Billy’s truck and trailer, while Tommy would drive his. Tommy had offered to take Erika and Beck in his truck with him, saying they could get her car later, but she wanted her own car, needed the independence. Besides, she’d driven far longer than eight hours with Beck before and she could certainly handle a long day’s drive to Billy’s property.

  Wednesday morning, four days after Billy’s injury, and immediately after Billy was discharged, they were off, with Billy in the passenger seat of the truck Sam was driving, pillows tucked here and there around the bruised and broken places. They set off at ten, a caravan with truck and trailers in front, and Erika in the back, with the expectation that they’d arrive at Billy’s house right around dinnertime. She had both Tommy and Sam’s phone numbers in case she needed to stop somewhere, but as it turned out, the big trucks pulling big rigs burned through gas a lot faster, and so t
here were plenty of stops to stretch her legs and feed Beck on the drive south.

  It was late afternoon as they left the freeway, taking smaller state roads east. The mountains in the distance were weathered, revealing layers of pink and red. The two-lane highway went down the middle of the valley, with a river on one side and pastures on both. They passed no big towns, driving through towns with just a gas station and, if they were lucky, a café or corner convenience store.

  The sun was setting when they pulled through a gate and then down a long road, finally reaching the two-story cabin with a steep green metal roof and large windows. She’d pictured something small and rustic but the cabin was new, the big logs stained dark gold. Once through the front door, the interior was surprisingly airy, with a high-beamed ceiling and tall windows that overlooked the valley. In the distance rose more of those same pink and red mountains.

  Sam and Tommy helped get Billy settled into his room. There were two other bedrooms, and Billy had suggested she take the one nearest the living room so she could be closer to the kitchen for making Beck’s bottles. Sam said he’d take the couch in the living room, and Tommy could have the third bedroom. Tommy insisted on the couch, saying Sam should have the bedroom since he’d been raised to be respectful of his seniors.

  Their back and forth only ended when Erika asked if there was a store nearby because Billy had nothing in his refrigerator for dinner. “Thinking I should get some groceries,” she said.

  “Good idea,” Tommy said. “Billy can eat.”

  “You can eat,” Sam retorted, before looking at Erika. “I can drive you, if you want. I know where the store is.”

  She glanced into Billy’s bedroom where he was already asleep on his bed. Beck was dozing in his car seat. “I’d love that if Tommy is okay managing things here.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Tommy answered, “not if they both stay asleep.”

  She smiled, amused. “Let’s hope they do then. We’ll be quick and should return soon.”

  It seemed as if Sam drove forever, even though it was probably just ten minutes, before pulling over near a nondescript looking café with an even less interesting looking convenient store next door. She glanced out at the businesses and then at Sam. “Doesn’t look very encouraging,” she said.