Montana Cowboy Daddy (Wyatt Brothers of Montana Book 3) Page 5

  Erika could feel Mrs. Wyatt’s hard stare. She sensed she hadn’t given Mrs. Wyatt the right answer but she wasn’t going to lie to Billy’s mother.

  She glanced down at Beck and saw that he’d stopped sucking vigorously. His eyes were closing and the nipple just pressed against his mouth. She carefully eased the bottle from his lips, set the bottle on the table, and put Beck on her shoulder to gently burp him. He cuddled into the hollow of her shoulder and neck, his small fist pressed to her skin. She dipped her head, kissed the top of his head with its fine golden hair. There were only a few strands, so few that if you didn’t look carefully he appeared bald, but Erika saw them, and she was delighted by them, as they were new in the past month. He was growing up, getting bigger every day.

  Could she give him up for adoption?

  Could she really hand him over to strangers?

  The tightness returned to her chest, tightness and a panic she couldn’t explain. She did love him, she’d come to love him, but did that give her the right to keep him? To raise him?

  She looked up at Mrs. Wyatt who was still watching her.

  “You’re attached to him, aren’t you?” the older woman asked.

  “He’s a wonderful baby,” Erika said softly. “He deserves the sun and the moon and the stars.”

  “I think you and Billy need to do some talking. Some real talking. When he comes back in, I’ll keep Beck, and you two find somewhere private to speak.”

  Erika didn’t need time alone with Billy. In her mind, there was nothing to discuss. They just needed him to do the test, and then they’d have the information they needed, but she didn’t want to contradict Mrs. Wyatt, not when she’d been so welcoming to her. “I’d hate to leave Beck with you again as he might wake—”

  “I’ve had four boys of my own, Erika. I can handle a baby for an hour or more.”

  Billy stepped into the den then, and glanced from his mother to Erika. “Did I just hear my name?”

  “You did,” his mother answered. “I was just telling Erika that when you have a minute, you and she should go somewhere private to talk.”

  “Joe’s giving me a break. I was just going to make a sandwich and then I’m free for a bit.”

  “Good. Make your sandwich, and I’ll keep an eye on Beck.” Summer hesitated. “You’d probably have the most privacy in the barn. I don’t think anyone’s in there right now.”

  While Billy made his sandwich, Erika retrieved the car seat from upstairs and tucked Beck into it before placing it on the floor next to Mrs. Wyatt’s feet.

  She then bundled up and marched out to the barn with Billy, snow slipping inside her shoes, making her nose wrinkle.

  Reaching the barn, Billy handed her half of his sandwich. “Here, you’re probably hungry,” he said, after closing the barn door behind them.

  It was a huge ham and cheddar sandwich, with lots of honey mustard on thick homemade white bread. “I’m not that hungry,” she answered.

  “I’m not going to eat in front of you, so please, keep me company.”

  She took a small bite. It was good—the bread soft, the mustard tangy, the ham flavorful. “This is good,” she said, taking another bite, but it was rather challenging separating the sandwich from the odiferous barn. The smell of animals, hay, and manure were potent. “But it’s rather fragrant in here, isn’t it?”

  Billy lifted an eyebrow. “It’s a barn.”

  “I’ve never been in one before.”

  “You’ve been to county fairs, haven’t you?”

  “To go on the rides and eat fair food.”

  “You didn’t visit any of the animal exhibits?”

  “I didn’t even know there were animal exhibits.”

  “Are you that much of a city girl?”

  “I grew up in Riverside, it’s not a city, as in urban, but I wasn’t surrounded by farms, either.”

  He’d finished his sandwich and he wiped his hand on the seat of his jeans. He had lean hips, a tight small butt which his tight Wranglers showed off to perfection. She watched him walk between the horse stalls. Horses nickered at him, and he stopped to give attention to several.

  “Do you have your horses in here?” she asked.

  “Yes. Notorious,” he said, gesturing to a dark brown horse, “and Val,” he added, pointing to a brown and white horse.

  “Val?”

  “Valentine,” he answered. “That mark around his eye looks like a heart.”

  “That’s cute.”

  Billy gave her a look that made her insides squirm.

  “Sweet?” she said instead.

  He gave her another long look.

  Erika grimaced. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about horses.” She hesitated then said, “And I owe you an apology.”

  “You do?”

  “I shouldn’t have come here. I should have waited to track you down at a different venue. I’m sorry for dropping in like this, and involving your whole family. I did exactly what you didn’t want to happen—”

  “You don’t want April’s son?”

  Her mouth opened, closed.

  “Mom said you’re considering adoption if you can’t find his father.”

  “It’s one of the options under consideration.”

  “Why wouldn’t you keep him?”

  “I can barely take care of myself sometimes. I don’t know how I’d take care of him, too.”

  He studied her for a long time, blue gaze assessing. “I’ll take a test tomorrow. I imagine it will take a few days to get results.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But if he’s not mine…”

  That ache was back in her chest, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. “As you said, that’s a bridge to cross later.”

  Chapter Three

  Billy wasn’t comfortable with the direction the conversation had turned. “What would you do?”

  “I’d do what I thought was best for Beck. I’d consider all options. Including adoption.”

  His gut cramped. The idea of a baby being given up, given away, didn’t sit right with him. Children weren’t disposable, and family was meant to take care of family. “I can’t believe you’re really serious. I thought it was a test for me, a way to gauge my commitment.”

  Erika’s cheeks flushed and she looked away. “You make me sound heartless.”

  He’d always thought she was pretty, and he’d always worked hard to ignore it because she was April’s cousin, and she didn’t strike him as the type of woman interested in just a good time, and those were the women he pursued. Far better to play with those who knew, and understood, the rules of the game.

  But in this moment, Erika looked not just pretty, she looked vulnerable, and it woke a protective instinct in him. “Would never dream of calling you heartless. I am sure you’ve been doing your best to keep your head above water, being thrust into the role of guardian out of the blue.”

  She shot him a grateful look, which only served to strengthen his desire to not come at her when she was down. “It has been hard,” she admitted. “I’ve been his sole caretaker for close to four weeks. I’d never cared for a baby before and had to learn everything, even as I made arrangements for April’s cremation, and then moved her out of her apartment and made arrangements for all her things—” She broke off, drew a deep, unsteady breath. Her eyes, blue green shimmered turquoise with tears. “I reached out to April’s mother, and she hung up on me. My mom and I haven’t spoken in years. There is no one else in my family to go to. They’d already rejected April and the baby, and maybe that’s a good thing because there will be no battle for custody—”

  “Why doesn’t your family want him?”

  “It’s not just him. They don’t want me, either.”

  He heard the crack in her voice and the underlying pain. “Why?”

  She brushed the tears away. “I hate crying,” she muttered fiercely, pushing off the column to pace the floor. “Tears are so stupid.”

 
He checked his smile. “I won’t tell anyone, if that helps.”

  She lifted her head, giving him a crooked smile. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m in a bad mood.”

  Billy bit down to keep from laughing. Even then he smiled. “Why doesn’t your family want you?”

  “I don’t come from a family like yours. We didn’t have a lot of love. I wasn’t raised with hugs and laughter. I’m not confident in my parental skills. I can’t help but think that there might be a truly wonderful family out there, desperate for a child—”

  “You’d miss him.”

  “I would, yes. Absolutely. But at the same time, if I thought he was with people who would love him and provide for him? Be there for him throughout his life? Then I’d be happy, for him. I would.” She stopped pacing to face him. “Have I ever told you what I do? What I’m studying?”

  “You’re a researcher?”

  “No. A student.” She dragged her hand over her head, pulling little blonde wisps from her loose ponytail. “I’m just a student. If I’d finished my degree, if I’d finished my dissertation and had a real job, and income, it’d all be different. But I’m not even halfway through.”

  “What is a dissertation?”

  “It’s a research project that completes the final step of my doctoral program, a compilation of academic and practical knowledge—”

  “Doctoral?” he interrupted.

  “I’m working toward my PhD in psychology.”

  He was impressed. But also completely ignorant about everything she was saying, making him feel as if he was in a foreign country listening to people speak a language he didn’t know. “You’re nearing the end of your degree?”

  “The dissertation is all that’s left, but it’s a big chunk of the degree, and I haven’t gotten anything done for the past month.”

  “When is it due?”

  “It’s not black and white like that. It’s due when it’s done, meaning when I’ve completed the research and writing. Most of my practical research is done. Now I need to structure and write it.”

  “How long does it take to write it?”

  “Again, depends. I’ve been warned that it could take anywhere from fourteen months to twenty months.” She grimaced. “I’m proving to be closer to the latter because I take on part-time jobs to help pay bills. I just finished a house sitting/dog sitting job when I got the call about Beck. Thank goodness, too. It would have been hard reaching JoJo’s owner in Patagonia.”

  “JoJo?”

  “A Chihuahua that likes to bite people.” Her nose wrinkled. “Not a good fit with a baby.”

  “Uh, not a good fit with anyone.”

  She laughed, the sound light and surprisingly bright, almost joyful. “JoJo tolerated me toward the end. But the beginning was rough. Once I realized treats were the way to get her to stop snapping, I carried them in my pocket all the time. Wouldn’t be in the same room with her without them.”

  “This is why I like big dogs.”

  “Oh, and big dogs don’t bite? Come on.”

  “No dog should ever bite.”

  “You have two very big dogs here.”

  “We used to have three, but we lost our big boy, Runt, just after Christmas. Granddad took it really hard. Runt was his boy.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Billy realized yet again he’d misjudged her. April and Erika were nothing alike, and that was both good and bad. Good, because Erika obviously had her act together, and was someone who could be counted on to make the right decisions for Beck. Bad because Erika intrigued Billy, and he couldn’t remember the last time a woman interested him at any level other than sexual. Erika was beautiful, but she was also smart, and he liked talking to her. He wanted to keep talking to her and that was not his norm.

  “I don’t know how your family could not want you,” he said abruptly. “You’re incredibly successful—”

  “But not a member of their church.” She gave him a tight, bright smile but he could see it didn’t reach her eyes. “And if you don’t believe, and don’t follow their principles, well, you don’t matter. You’re a heathen, and an outsider.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, ouch.” She glanced toward the house, expression troubled. “But it is what it is. Dysfunction perpetuates dysfunction.” Her shoulders slumped and she looked weary. “It’s why I wanted to study psychology, why I wanted to learn, and grow, and try to learn what healthy behavior is. I don’t want to be like my family—”

  “I don’t think you’re anything like your family.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “As soon as you heard about April, you headed to Las Vegas and jumped into action, taking on her son”—he broke off, correcting himself—“possibly my son. You put your life on hold to handle her affairs and try to find Beck’s father. That’s admirable—”

  “But it shouldn’t be admirable! It should just be what people do for each other. It should just be decency—”

  “Exactly.” The conviction in her voice did something to him, making his chest tighten. He liked her. She wasn’t the enemy. And she wasn’t the problem. “I’ll get the paternity test done in Bozeman tomorrow. We should have results soon after, I imagine.”

  “Thank you.” She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I’m thinking I should retrieve Beck from your mom. I don’t want to take advantage of her kindness.”

  “She wouldn’t have offered if she didn’t want to do it. Mom is no pushover.”

  Erika hesitated. “Do you mind telling me why she needs the walker? Is it arthritis?”

  “We used to think it was arthritis, but she was recently diagnosed with MS. Fortunately, she’s on new medicine and it’s really helped her. Just two years ago Joe was carrying her up and down the stairs.”

  “Thank goodness for new medicines.”

  “Agreed.”

  *

  Back in the house, Erika changed Beck’s diapers, and then after giving him a bottle, walked him around, including a look at all the framed family photos in the hall, that also went up the stairs. Baby photos and family photos. Faded color photos of boys in football uniforms, as well as team wrestling photos. There were other photos of showing animals, and early rodeo wins. A photo of Christmas that had to be back from the seventies by the collared shirts the guys were wearing.

  Granddad joined her in the hall. “Those are my boys,” he said gruffly, pointing to two handsome teenagers holding trophies in a rodeo arena. “JC and Samuel. Their first national win in team roping before they were invited to join the professional association.”

  She glanced at Melvin, heart tender. “How old were they there?”

  “JC would have been about nineteen. Sam seventeen.”

  “They were good.”

  “They were good boys.” Melvin’s voice deepened. “Did everything together. A lot like Billy and Tommy. Best friends.”

  She searched Melvin’s strong features, his skin weathered from years outdoors. In her research on the Wyatts, she’d read how Melvin’s sons had died together in an accident when they were in their late twenties. JC and Summer already had four little boys. Sam hadn’t yet married, but had been seeing someone for a while. “It must have been devastating,” she said softly.

  “Hard losing them both like that, yes.” He reached out and ran his hand lightly across the top of Beck’s head. “But they went to be with my Bess, and hopefully they’re in a better place.”

  “And then you raised JC’s boys.”

  “Family first always.”

  Again her heart ached, and she had to hold her breath, to keep emotion in check. “They’re lucky to have you.”

  “They saved me. Without them, I doubt I’d still be here. They gave me purpose. They kept me busy. They gave me a lot of love.” He looked down at her, with the same blue eyes Billy had, with the same blue eyes Beck had. “At the end of the day, love is what matters. Integrity, honesty, respect… those all matter, but they mean nothing without love.
”

  For the second time that day Erika was on the verge of tears, and she didn’t want to cry. She didn’t like feeling so emotional. “I hope Beck is your great-grandson, if only that he could have you for a great-grandfather. He’d be so lucky to be part of this family.”

  “Well, if he is, you are, too. We’d be family together.”

  *

  Dinner that night was less rowdy than the night before. Sam and Ivy were missing, and Joe and Sophie were eating dinner together at their place. Tommy had made dinner, his favorite, fried chicken with mashed potatoes, and Erika silently marveled that the Wyatt men all seemed to cook. She didn’t say this, of course, since her own culinary skill was next to nothing, but she admired Summer for making sure her sons knew how to fend for themselves.

  It was during dessert, over coffee and leftover birthday cake, that Tommy brought up Erika’s studies. “Billy said you were in graduate school, working on your PhD. That’s pretty impressive.”

  She blushed as all attention shifted to her. “It’s been a commitment.”

  “What drew you to psychology?”

  “I liked the idea of helping people. It’s an interesting field.”

  “How much more do you have left?” Summer asked.

  “I’m in the writing phase of my dissertation. All the research is done.”

  “I don’t really know what that entails,” Melvin said, “but I suspect it means you spend a lot of time at a computer.”

  Erika smiled at him. “That’s exactly what it entails. Lots of drafting, lots of rewriting, lots of double-checking my research, sometimes finding huge holes in my work.”

  Summer was listening intently. “That can’t be easy when you’re caring for a baby on your own.”

  “It’s not,” Erika admitted. “I haven’t done anything in the past month. I’m trying not to panic, but I’m behind.”