A Child Under His Tree. Allison Leigh

      “Just drive on down Main Street and see for yourself,” Mary advised. “Weaver’s grown a lot since you left. There’s even a—” she cast a quick look at Tyler “—a particularly popular fast food place on the other side of town. Bekins Road, right before the highway on the way to Braden. Arches on the sign,” she added, raising her eyebrows for emphasis.

      “Never would have expected that.” Maybe in Braden. The town was a good thirty miles away and had always edged out Weaver in terms of available services. Kelly slid everything back into her purse and took Tyler’s hand again before pushing on the exit door. “Take care, Mary.”

      “You too, honey.”

      They stepped out into the weak October sunshine and Kelly hauled in a deep breath.

      “Mommy! You’re squeezing my hand too tight.”

      “Sorry, buddy.” Kelly quickly loosened her hold as they walked to the small parking lot that was full of vehicles. Hers was the only one sporting an out-of-state license plate. She let go of his hand and unlocked the car doors. He climbed into the rear onto his booster seat. He was particularly independent about fastening his own safety belt, and she waited while he worked at it, not closing the door until she tugged the strap to be sure it was secure.

      Then she straightened, glancing back at the building over the roof of her car.

      Six years had passed since that night she and Caleb had unintentionally conceived the brightest light in her life. Six years since they’d had any sort of contact. Intentional or otherwise.

      She’d gotten over Caleb a long time ago.

      He, of course, had never needed to get over her.

      Six years.

      That time had evidently brought a lot of changes to Weaver. But none of them mattered to her. She and Tyler had a life—a good life—in Idaho. One she’d worked darned hard to achieve. They had friends. They had a home where Tyler had never known anything but love. She’d returned to Weaver to do her last duty as Georgette Rasmussen’s daughter.

      She wasn’t going to let herself think about anything else.

      Caleb Buchanan included.

Chapter Two

      “I heard Kelly Rasmussen and her little boy are in town.” Caleb’s sister, Lucy, leaned past his shoulder to set a bowl of salad on the kitchen table. “Staying out at her mother’s place. I should take them a meal or something. Can’t be easy for her.”

      “I’m sure she’d like that,” Caleb answered smoothly. He wasn’t sure if his sister was fishing or not, but knowing Lucy, she probably was. “Last time I saw Georgette’s house it was practically falling apart, and that was years ago.” He’d gone to see Kelly’s mother only once after he and Kelly had parted ways for good. Only because he could hardly believe the story around town: that she’d moved to Idaho and gotten married. There were even stories about a kid.

      Georgette had confirmed it, though. The woman had wallowed in her bitterness as she told him how Kelly had abandoned her in favor of her new life in the city. She then told him about Kelly’s new man and the baby they’d had together.

      Georgette’s attitude hadn’t been particularly surprising. She’d always given new meaning to the word ornery. But the fact that Kelly really was married? With a baby, no less?

      Even though there was nothing between them anymore, the confirmation had knocked him sideways.

      He eyed the platter of pork chops Lucy put on the table. His mouth had been watering for her cooking since that morning when she’d called to invite him for supper. But his thoughts kept straying to his encounter with Kelly.

      He’d seen Tyler Rasmussen’s name written in as a last-minute addition on the schedule but hadn’t thought twice about it. There were dozens of Rasmussens around Weaver. The family seemed to have more branches than his own.

      Then he’d opened the boy’s chart and Kelly’s signature had all but smacked him in the face.

      His only thoughts when he’d opened the examining room door after that were to keep his act together. He was a physician, for God’s sake. Not a stupid kid who hadn’t known what he had until he’d thoughtlessly tossed it aside in favor of someone else.

      She’d always been pretty, with otter-brown hair, coffee-colored eyes and delicate features. But Kelly Rasmussen all grown up? She’d held herself with a confidence that she hadn’t possessed before. She was still beautiful. More...womanly.

      He pushed the disturbing image to the back of his mind and focused on his three-year-old niece bouncing on his knee. “What do you want more, Sunny? The salad? Or the pork chops?”

      “Gravy,” she said promptly. “And ’tatoes.”

      “You have to eat some carrots first,” Lucy said firmly. She moved the toddler from Caleb’s lap to her high chair and ruffled her daughter’s dark hair. “She’d eat mashed potatoes and gravy morning, noon and night if I let her,” Lucy said with a wry smile.

      “Girl knows what she likes.” He winked at the tot, who awarded him with a beaming smile. “Kelly’s boy is cute,” he commented casually. “Tall for his age.”

      Lucy stopped in her tracks and gave him a surprised look. “You’ve seen them?”

      He knew from long experience there was no point hiding anything from his family, especially his sister. It was better to head her off at the pass than to keep things secret. Then he’d never hear the end of it.

      “She brought him to the office today.” He got up and brought the mashed potatoes and gravy to the table himself, giving Sunny another wink that earned him a giggle from her and an eye roll from her mama.

      “You’re as bad as a three-year-old.” Lucy set a few carrot sticks on Sunny’s plastic plate then went to the kitchen doorway and called, “Shelby! Come and eat.”

      Only a matter of seconds passed before Lucy’s stepdaughter raced into the kitchen. “Uncle Caleb!” The girl’s light brown eyes were bright as she launched herself at him. Caleb caught her, wrinkling his nose when she smacked a kiss on his lips.

      “Kissing boys now, are you?”

      She giggled, shaking her head violently. “Boys are gross.”

      “Sometimes,” Lucy joked. She filled Shelby’s milk glass. “Caleb sure was for a long time.”

      “Spoken like a loving older sister.”

      She just grinned at him, forked a pork chop onto her plate and began cutting it into strips for Sunny.

      “Mommy, when’s Daddy coming home?”

      “He’ll be back from Cheyenne tomorrow night, sweetie.” She transferred some of the strips to Sunny’s plate.

      “Good.” Shelby sat up on her knees and attacked her own meal.

      Caleb followed suit. “How’s Nick doing?”

      “He’s twenty-five, as handsome as his daddy and spending the year in Europe, studying.”

      Like Lucy’s stepson, Caleb had been studying when he was twenty-five, too. But medicine in Colorado versus architecture in Europe. “In other words, he’s doing pretty fine. Is he going to go into business with Beck?”

      “Beck certainly hopes so. Father and son architects and all. So, how was it?”

      Caleb doused his plate with the creamy gravy. “How was what?”

      Lucy whisked the bowl out of his reach when he went in for another helping. “Don’t pretend ignorance. Seeing Kelly again, obviously.”

      With her mother otherwise occupied, Shelby slyly palmed some dreaded