The Ransomes: Matt, Nick and Katherine: Pregnant with the First Heir. Sara Orwig

don’t want to ever know or even see your kid,’” she flung at Matt, and pain stabbed him. “He told me I should have been more careful. He was right there. I don’t want any part of anything or anyone connected to Jeff!” she exclaimed firmly and turned to walk to her car.

      Matt bit back angry words. It hurt badly to hear that Jeff had denied his child. Jeff hadn’t told him that, but then, his kid brother would have known how Matt would react to such news.

      Matt hurried ahead of her and blocked her from getting into her car.

      “Get out of my way,” she said.

      “I want to talk. Surely you can give me a few minutes.”

      She inhaled deeply, and he resisted letting his gaze lower to her full breasts, but it was an effort.

      “All right, for only a few more minutes.” She crossed her arms over her middle and raised her chin and he knew he was in for a fight.

      “This baby will be the only one of the next generation in my family.”

      “You can’t have children?” she asked.

      “I’m not a marrying man. I’ll never marry anyone.”

      “That didn’t slow your brother down. And he didn’t care if this baby was the last of your family. Blood relations didn’t seem important to him,” she said, and Matt could easily hear the bitterness in her voice. Her fists were clenched, and he realized instead of a rift between Jeff and Olivia, Jeff had created a bottomless chasm. She was all but shaking with fury. Matt fought to bank his own anger that she was being so almighty unreasonable when he offered help that she seemed to desperately need.

      “As I recall, there were several of you—a brother, Nick, a sister, Katherine. Can’t they produce grandchildren?”

      Matt shrugged. “Perhaps someday, but who knows? Nick and Katherine are on the wild side and not likely to settle down soon.”

      “Like Jeff,” Olivia said with bitterness in her voice again.

      “None of us is as wild as Jeff was,” Matt snapped. “Jeff took whatever he wanted and indulged himself. He thought he was invincible, but it turned out that he wasn’t.”

      “Look, I’m trying to help—”

      She shook her head. “No, you’re not. You want something. If it’s my baby, forget it. And don’t think you can go to court and get my precious baby. I’ll fight you every inch of the way.”

      “Will you listen to me?” he said patiently, and she arched her eyebrows.

      “I’ll listen, but you’re on limited time that’s growing shorter.”

      Matt wanted to shake her. Instead, he nodded. “I’m sure you don’t make much money as a waitress here. I want to take care of you and the baby financially.”

      “I don’t need your help. End of conversation. You have no claim on me. If you want to go to court over it—go. Since you’re not the father, you won’t have a strong case. They would give a father rights, but an uncle? I’m willing to take that chance. You stay out of my life. Your brother was a jerk! Now get out of my way.”

      She slid into her car, slammed and locked the door. The engine rumbled to life with a persistent knock. She backed up, swung in a circle and drove away, crunching gravel beneath the tires.

      “Dammit!” Matt swore and clenched his fists. He strode angrily to his pickup, climbed in and headed toward Rincon, Texas where he knew she lived on the fringe of town.

      He would try to talk to her one more time before he called his attorney. Little stubborn witch!

      Jeff disowned the baby. Matt gritted his teeth as he reflected that most of his life he hadn’t understood his kid brother. Without a doubt, the feelings had been mutual. Matt knew his single parent father had done the best he could, but he had been too indulgent with all of them. Jeff, the youngest, he had spoiled rotten.

      Matt drove through the neighborhood of small frame houses with dented, ancient cars parked in front yards and lawns high with weeds. When he reached her darkened house, he discovered that Olivia had not come straight home. She might not be coming home tonight at all.

      In disgust, he wondered if she had taken up with a man. He shrugged away the unwanted notion, reminding himself that there hadn’t been any mention from the P.I. of a boyfriend. Tonight she had given the cold shoulder to every man in the honky-tonk.

      He slowed and parked in front of the house. In the next block he saw a man stumbling along the sidewalk until he turned and disappeared inside a house.

      Olivia’s car approached and turned into her drive that was no more than a gravel path. When she stepped out of the car, she picked up a grocery sack and walked toward her house, merely glancing at him when he emerged from his car.

      “We’ve talked,” she said when he caught up with her. She brushed past him and climbed rickety steps, crossing the porch to unlock her door. Matt followed and held the screen door. He stood close enough to get a strong whiff of the odor of cigarette smoke trapped in her hair.

      She looked up at him. “You’re not welcome here. I’ve said all I need to say to you.”

      “Listen. You’re carrying a Ransome. I want to help you and you damned well need support. Stop being so stubborn and listen to what I have to offer. For all you know, you could be turning down a million bucks.”

      Her eyebrows arched. “Am I?” she asked, startling him at her change in temperament because he thought he heard amusement in her voice.

      “Let’s go inside and talk,” he answered. She gave him a level look and he wondered if she was going to send him on his way, but she shrugged and entered her house, leaving the door open behind her.

      He followed her into a small, frame house that had to be nearly a hundred years old. White paint had peeled from the cracked walls, revealing a coat of dark blue paint. The furniture was threadbare and looked older than he was, yet there were some green plants and a few touches that contrasted with the dilapidation.

      She tossed her purse on the sofa, set down the sack of groceries and motioned to him. “Have a seat.”

      “How long have you lived here?” he asked, looking around and sitting on an overstuffed chair covered in a faded, flowered slipcover. A blanket was thrown over the sofa and he suspected it hid holes.

      “Almost a year now.”

      Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees while he watched her kick off her shoes and rub her foot.

      “I know you’re going to school. You don’t have any family. You work in a dive and you reek of cigarette smoke. The bar can’t be healthy for your baby or you.”

      “I’m trying to get another job that pays at least as much as the one I have. I don’t have the skills or the wardrobe for an office job,” she said, thrusting out her chin defiantly. “Pay is higher at Two-Steppin’ Ribs because the bar is out in nowhere.”

      “How many hours are you taking this semester?”

      “Two classes—six hours. I’m in pre-law.”

      “You’re a sophomore, aren’t you?”

      “I think you already know the answer. And you’re thinking that a sophomore is not much for someone who is twenty-two, but it’s the best I could do,” she replied, curling her long legs beneath her and settling in the corner of the sofa. His gaze slid along her legs. He tried to keep his thoughts on his mission, but he was responding to her physically in a manner that shocked him.

      “All right. Here’s the deal,” he said. “I’ll send you to school. You quit that job and move out to the ranch with me—”

      “No way! I’m sure you think I’m easy, but I’m not climbing into bed with you to get my tuition,” she said, flinging the words