The Cowboy's Son. Delores Fossen

heaven, she couldn’t.

      Dylan finally made it to the end of the dirt path and turned onto the main road that would take them back to the ranch.

      “Now you understand why I can’t consider your marriage proposal,” he continued. “Though my past is only one of many objections I have.”

      Collena understood. In fact, his past terrified her. But not as much as the alternative of losing Adam. “We might both lose custody if we don’t work together.”

      “Working together,” he repeated. “I’ll give you that. But marriage is out.”

      Not being married to Dylan would put a serious wrinkle in her plans. Besides, this fire might not have anything to do with his past or with Sean’s father. “Maybe this was some kind of prank. Kids are out of school for Thanksgiving. Maybe someone was bored and decided to light a match.”

      Dylan didn’t answer right away. “Maybe.”

      Collena released the breath she’d been holding and hoped they weren’t deluding themselves.

      Individually, they both had some old baggage, but she hoped that it wouldn’t surface. Above all, she had to do whatever was necessary to keep Adam safe. And if that meant taking her son and fleeing, she would.

      But she also knew an action like that would heavily impact her little boy. After all, she’d be taking her child from the only parent Adam had ever known.

      That was the very thing Collena was trying to avoid.

      While they sat in silence, Dylan drove through the gates to the ranch. There was still no sight or sound of the fire truck. Of course, it was winter, and the weather wasn’t cooperating. Her car was gone, as was everything inside it—including the copies of the documents to prove she was Adam’s mother. The only thing left for the fire department to do was tell them how the fire had started.

      And then the sheriff could maybe determine who had started it.

      Dylan had been with her the entire time, so she knew he wasn’t the culprit. Besides, this wasn’t his approach to things. He wouldn’t have set fire to a car to destroy documents or to intimidate her.

      He was a face-to-face kind of man.

      “I have a visitor,” Dylan commented.

      Collena picked through the other vehicles that were near the house and spotted a black luxury car parked in the circular driveway in front. She didn’t recognize the car, but she had no trouble recognizing the tall dark-haired man who was pounding on Dylan’s front door.

      “Oh, God,” Collena mumbled.

      “You know him?” Dylan asked, firing an accusatory glance at her.

      She nodded. “Yes. That’s Curtis Reese, Adam’s biological grandfather. He’s probably here to try to take him.”

      WELL, THIS WAS SHAPING UP to be the day from hell.

      Dylan braked to a halt directly in front of the house and barreled out of his truck. He was not going to let Curtis Reese anywhere near Adam.

      “I’m sorry,” he heard Collena say. “I didn’t know he’d follow me.”

      Dylan didn’t take the time to respond to that. Besides, what could he say? He certainly wasn’t going to give her a pass.

      Yesterday, his life was as close to perfect as it could get, and now mere hours later, things were tumbling down around him.

      In the distance Dylan heard the fire sirens, but he focused his attention on the man trying to beat down his front door. Dylan kept his gun gripped in his hand, and he started up the porch steps.

      His visitor whirled around with his tight fist still high in the air. Dylan didn’t raise his gun. He didn’t issue any threats. He just stared at the man, daring him to use that fist in any way.

      Curtis Reese stared back at him.

      When Collena had first told him that this was Adam’s biological grandfather, Dylan had expected someone who looked like a grandparent. Curtis Reese didn’t. Dylan figured he had to be at least in his early fifties, but he looked much younger. There wasn’t a strand of gray in his dark brown hair. The man was at least six-four, and he had a muscular build that his Italian cashmere suit didn’t hide. And Curtis Reese had a formidable expression on his wrinkle-free face.

      “I’m here to see my grandson,” Curtis announced.

      “Then you’ve wasted your time,” Dylan shot back.

      Curtis looked past him, and his equally formidable granite-gray eyes landed on Collena. “Did you think you could hide my own flesh and blood from me?”

      “For a while.” Collena took the steps slowly, and Dylan hoped she wasn’t having another dizzy spell. “It’s Thanksgiving, Curtis. Go home and give me a chance to work things out with Mr. Greer.”

      “What you really want is time to figure out how to steal him from me.”

      Collena shook her head and slipped her gun into her coat pocket. “I don’t have to steal him. You have no right to Adam.”

      “And this conversation is over,” Dylan intervened.

      Curtis’s gaze snapped back to Dylan. “It’s not over. I know what Collena’s trying to do. She’ll try to make a pact with you to stop me from getting custody. Well, you should know that Collena Drake isn’t fit to be a mother. Her own mother was a drug addict and prostitute—did she tell you that?”

      Dylan shrugged. “It didn’t come up in conversation. Now, are you leaving voluntarily, or do I need to help you to your car?”

      “I’m not going until I make you understand what an unsuitable mother she is. It’s her fault that she was at Brighton, and it’s her fault that Adam was stolen. She took a deep-cover assignment while she was pregnant. Something bad could have happened there. And it did. She endangered herself and therefore her baby. I think I can convince a judge that what she did can be construed as child endangerment.”

      Dylan tried not to react to that, mainly because coming from Curtis, it could be a lie. But then he glanced at Collena. He didn’t think it was his imagination that she was even paler now than when he’d first seen her. Later, after Curtis was off the grounds, they would obviously have to discuss this latest allegation.

      “Adam’s in danger,” Curtis said, his voice strained with emotion. “And it’s all Collena’s fault.” He volleyed glances between them. “Did you know that Rodney Harmon escaped from jail last night?”

      Collena actually dropped back a step, and Dylan caught her arm so that she wouldn’t fall on the slippery porch. He’d never heard the name Rodney Harmon, but he figured soon he’d know why the man had caused Collena to have that kind of reaction.

      “Harmon will come after you again,” Curtis warned Collena. “And if you’re near Adam, he’ll come after him, too. You shouldn’t be within a hundred miles of that baby.”

      Collena glanced at Dylan and stepped out of his grip. “Rodney Harmon is the man I helped arrest and put into prison. He was one of the security guards at Brighton. And among other things, he was responsible for…stopping me from going after the doctor who stole Adam.”

      He didn’t have to guess how the guy had stopped her. Dylan had a strange gut reaction to that realization. He wanted to pound the guy to dust because he’d attacked a vulnerable woman who’d just given birth. And why? All so someone could steal her infant son and sell him.

      But Dylan had lived the flip side of Rodney Harmon’s diabolical plan. He’d adopted the baby that Rodney had helped steal. Dylan couldn’t regret that. Ever. But he could regret the pain Collena had gone through.

      But maybe that could be overshadowed by Curtis’s other allegation. That Collena was responsible for what had happened.

      Had