In His Brother's Place. Elizabeth Lane

Jordan’s mind. The first was that, even early in the morning, Angelina Montoya was one sexy woman. He could get used to seeing her like that—uncombed and sleepy-eyed, her feet bare and her shirt clinging to her trim little body. The second thought, more sobering, was that she hadn’t given Lucas his father’s name. Sooner or later, whether she liked it or not, that would have to be remedied.

      “Uncle Jordan made me a teddy bear pancake.” Lucas flashed her a syrupy grin.

      “Oh?” She frowned. “You didn’t have to do that, Jordan. I’ve made my son’s breakfast every day of his life. There’s no reason that should change.”

      She was glaring at him as if he’d tried to kidnap the boy. Jordan got the message. The battle lines had been drawn. “I was here and he was hungry,” Jordan said. “Sit down and I’ll make you some pancakes, too. Do you want teddy bear or regular? I do both.”

      “Just coffee. I’ll get my own.”

      “Cups are on the second shelf. Help yourself.” Jordan willed himself to be annoyingly cheerful. “Did you tell Lucas we were going out for a ride this morning?”

      “A ride? On horses? Like cowboys?” Lucas was all eyes and ears.

      “Maybe.” Angie sat down at the table and swirled cream into her coffee. A bewitching spark danced in her mahogany eyes. “First show me how fast you can finish your breakfast, get cleaned up and make your bed. Then we’ll see. OK?”

      “OK! I’ll be lightning fast, you’ll see!” He cleaned his plate and dashed for the door. Picking up her coffee, Angie strode after him.

      Jordan followed her with his eyes. Angie was a good mother—loving, firm and protective. She’d done a fine job of raising Lucas on her own. But the boy was a Cooper. Justin would want him to have everything this ranch, and the Cooper money, could provide for him.

      Jordan was just beginning to realize what he’d taken on. This wasn’t a short-term arrangement. Justin’s son wouldn’t be of age for another fifteen years. As things stood now, Angie had full legal custody of the boy. She could leave tomorrow and take him anywhere she chose. She could even meet someone, marry and allow her new husband to adopt Lucas.

      Jordan knew he couldn’t let that happen.

      It would take good lawyer to help secure Lucas’s place in the family. The legal process was bound to take time, especially if Angie chose to fight him at every turn. For now, it would be up to him to make damned sure the woman was happy enough to stay put.

      He couldn’t bring Justin back or undo the tragic events he’d helped set in motion. But restoring his brother’s son in the Cooper family might, at least, grant him a measure of redemption.

      By nine o’clock they were on the trail. The docile bay Jordan had chosen for Angie moseyed along at a plodding gait. Lucas, sitting astride her lap, giggled with delight. What could be more exciting than a ride on a real horse?

      The well-worn path wound through piñon-covered hills to descend into a broad arroyo where spikes of yucca and clumps of blooming chamisa rose against adobe-colored ledges. Some distance ahead, Angie knew, the way would narrow, ending where a waterfall cascaded down the canyon wall.

      The last time she’d ridden this trail, it had been with Justin. They’d taken a picnic to the waterfall and made love at sunset on the blanket they’d brought. Now it was Jordan who rode beside her on the splendid palomino she recognized as Justin’s former favorite.

      Her bruised knee twinged as she shifted in the saddle. Her face flamed at the memory of last night—Jordan’s hand gliding up her leg. In the embarrassment of the moment, she hadn’t really noticed just how intimate it had been, letting him touch her like that. Remembering it now, the intensity of her response shocked her. She tried to tell herself it was because he looked so much like Justin. But that didn’t explain it. Justin was gone, and behind that well-loved face was a very different man.

      Today, dressed in faded denims, a western-style shirt and a weathered Stetson, Jordan looked more at ease than Angie had ever seen him. He sat a horse as if he’d begun riding at Lucas’s age, which he probably had.

      They said little, depending on Lucas’s chatter to fill the awkward silence. He talked mostly to Jordan, asking childish questions that Jordan answered with surprising patience.

      “Are you a real cowboy, Uncle Jordan?”

      “I just play at being a cowboy. But there are some real cowboys on the ranch. They work here, taking care of the cows and horses.”

      “Can I be a cowboy, too?”

      “Maybe not a real one. But you can play at it, like I do.”

      “Can I have a horse?”

      “Lucas,” Angie warned, “you mustn’t ask Uncle Jordan to give you things.”

      Jordan’s gaze narrowed. “Before you get a horse you’ll have to be big enough to take care of it. That’s going to take some time. But you might be old enough for a puppy.”

      “A puppy!” Lucas squirmed with excitement.

      “Only if your mother says it’s all right, of course.”

      “We’ll talk about it later.” Angie gave Jordan an annoyed glance. It wasn’t that she’d mind having a puppy around. Lucas would love a dog. But why couldn’t the man have asked her first?

      She needed to have some serious words with him. Just because she’d agreed to move out to the ranch, that didn’t mean that she was going to let Jordan take over her life, or Lucas’s. He had no right to make decisions about her son’s care.

      For the sake of Lucas’s safety, she’d live under the same roof with the man. She’d even force herself to be civil. But she wasn’t going to let herself fall for the “concerned uncle” act. She’d continue to monitor every conversation with him with a healthy dose of suspicion.

      It didn’t matter that four years had passed. Jordan still had his own agenda. And she could never trust him to be on her side.

      Angie’s chance to bring up the puppy came after lunch. They’d spread a blanket on the grass at the base of the waterfall, where they’d feasted on Marta’s cheese empanadas and piñon nut cookies. Lucas’s presence had kept their conversation on neutral ground, but now he was curled on the blanket, fast asleep in the warm sunlight.

      “Looks like we could be here awhile.” Jordan leaned back against a boulder and crossed his long, booted legs at the ankle.

      “I’m afraid so.” Angie felt strangely tongue-tied. “Wake him now and he’ll be as cranky as a little bear.”

      “We can’t have that, can we?” His slow grin was so like Justin’s that Angie felt a lump rise in her throat.

      “About that puppy,” she said.

      His only response was the subtle twitch of one eyebrow.

      “You should know better, Jordan.” She spoke in an impassioned whisper. “Getting Lucas’s hopes up before you’ve cleared it with me—it’s unfair. Worse, it’s underhanded. If I say no, I’ll be the villain.”

      His expression didn’t change. “Why say no? The boy could use a playmate. A dog would be good for him.”

      “Maybe. But that’s not your decision to make. I’m his mother. I’ll decide when he’s ready for a pet.”

      “He’s my brother’s son.” Jordan’s eyes had gone hard. “Shouldn’t I have something to say about that, too?”

      “Your brother’s son!” It was all Angie could do to keep from raising her voice and waking Lucas. “You’ve known him for less than a week. How could you possibly know what would be good for him? Were you there when he was born? Did you change him and feed him and walk the floor when he cried all night?” A surge of emotion cracked her voice. She gulped back tears.