Runaway Lone Star Bride. Cathy Thacker Gillen

rendered Maggie momentarily still. “Seriously?”

      Hart set the diaper bag down on the hall table. “My ex-fiancée never told me she was pregnant.” He shrugged, shook his head. “I might not have known at all if Alicia hadn’t died in a car crash a month ago.”

      A silence fraught with heartache fell.

      Maggie caught up with Henry, who was headed for the back stairs. She grabbed the little boy’s hand and turned him back in the direction of the ranch-house kitchen. “Where’s Henry been since?” Together, the three of them entered the spacious room.

      Maggie left Hart to keep track of his son, while she opened up the large, stainless steel fridge and got out the makings for the little boy’s dinner.

      “Foster care in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Apparently, my name was on Henry’s Texas birth certificate, but between the bureaucracies of the two states, it took them a while to track me down.”

      Maggie set a skillet on the six-burner Viking stove and turned the heat to medium. “Poor kid.” She buttered two pieces of bread and put a slice of American cheese between them.

      Hart’s forehead creased. “He was well cared for. At least he seemed somewhat happy, if pretty confused, when I went to pick him up. I thought it would be easier to fly to San Antonio, and then rent a car for the remainder of the trip.” Hart scooped up his son before he could exit the kitchen at top speed. The two of them watched as Maggie spooned applesauce into a dish.

      Maggie lifted the spoon to Henry’s lips. “Since it’s only a little over an hour from the city to the Double Knot.” The child paused, thinking, then cautiously took a bite.

      “Right. Unfortunately, while en route, we had to change planes in Dallas. Our flight was running late, and we barely made the connection. Henry didn’t take well to the confusion and he absolutely hated takeoff and landing.”

      Maggie set the dish on the counter next to Hart and handed him the spoon so he could do the honors. “Probably his ears.”

      Hart shifted Henry to his left arm and picked up the spoon with his right hand. “What?”

      A little too aware of how cozy and domestic this all felt, Maggie poured milk into a cup. “The change in air pressure is hard on their little ears.”

      A corner of his mouth took on a downward slant. “Makes sense. Anyway, he was really miserable and really ticked off. He wouldn’t stay in his safety seat next to me, and he was worse on my lap. He cried the entire time.”

      Maggie’s heart went out to both of them. They couldn’t have had a worse start to their trip or their relationship.

      “And he was even madder when we picked up the rental,” Hart mused as he continued feeding his son the last of the applesauce. “Fortunately, he fell asleep about forty minutes into the drive and was still snoozing when we got here.”

      Noting the sandwich was done, Maggie slid it onto a plate and began slicing it into small kid-sized squares. “So you put him in his stroller.”

      Hart nodded while they waited for the grilled cheese bites to cool. “And wheeled him into the house, thinking my mom and dad would be here.”

      Only to find me instead, Maggie thought.

      She dampened a paper towel and used the edge of it to clean the applesauce from around Henry’s mouth. “This is why you were hoping to surprise your parents.” The little boy lurched toward Maggie. She caught him in her arms.

      “I figured it would be better to tell them in person.”

      A tenuous silence fell. “Are you still going to wait for that? Or let them know now?”

      Hart hesitated. “I hate to disrupt their trip, knowing how long they have wanted to see that part of the world and how seldom they treat themselves to a vacation, but I really need them to help me get Henry settled. So, looks like I’ll be emailing them the news tonight.”

      Maggie pulled a chair up to the table, put the sandwich in front of her and sat down with Henry on her lap. She offered him a bite. “How do you think they’ll react?”

      For a second, Maggie didn’t think Hart was going to answer. Sorrow came and went in his eyes. Finally, he pulled up a chair next to them and allowed, “I’m sure they’ll be surprised and happy to find out they have a grandson. However, they won’t be as happy about my part in the snafu.”

      If there was one thing Maggie understood all too well, it was not meeting parental expectations. Compassion welled within her. “You think they’ll blame you, for not knowing?”

      “Hard to say,” Hart said quietly, offering his son another bite of grilled cheese. “What I do know is that my mom and dad had reservations about my engagement to Alicia from the get-go.”

      His romantic past was more complicated than she realized. That gave them something in common in that respect, too. “Frank and Fiona didn’t like Alicia?”

      Hart caught Maggie’s confused look. “They thought I might not be right for her.”

      “Why not?” she asked, shifting Henry onto Hart’s lap and going to get the little boy a drink.

      “Alicia was a small-town Texas girl and she wanted stability.”

      Maggie washed out the baby bottle from the diaper bag and filled it with milk. She paused to give it to Hart, then stood opposite him, her back to the marble counter. “And you couldn’t give that to her.”

      Hart’s lips compressed grimly. “I tried. It’s why we got formally engaged when I still had a year and a half left to go on my tour. Because she needed to know I was serious, that I intended to marry her when my military commitment was up.”

      “What happened?”

      “She was frustrated because I didn’t know what I wanted to do when I got out of the service—except not come back here to live. And I didn’t want to set our wedding date until I knew what I was going to be doing, where we were going to live.” Frustration glimmered in his dark brown eyes. “So she called it off. Said I was too restless to ever settle down in one place, and that was all she’d ever wanted.”

      Finding his steady regard a little unnerving, Maggie set the skillet in the sink, squirted dishwashing liquid into the center of it and got to work. “Did you have any qualms about leaving the military?”

      Hart shook his head. “No. When I’m ready to move on, I move on. I don’t spend a lot of time looking back. And although I enjoyed my time in the armed forces and felt good about serving my country, I was ready to try something else.”

      Maggie understood that, too. It was why she had gone from business analyst to wedding planner. Because—even though this wasn’t something she planned to do permanently—she had needed a change.

      Another silence fell. Henry having finished his dinner, Hart brought him over to the sink and Maggie helped him wash the child’s face and hands. Then Hart set him down on the floor, in front of the bay window in the breakfast nook. Henry stood, his hands pressed against the glass, looking outside.

      Hart stood next to his son, tenderly standing guard. Watching them together, Maggie could already feel the love flowing from father to son.

      She shook her head. “I don’t understand why Alicia wouldn’t have told you about the baby.”

      “I don’t understand it, either. Unless it was because she wanted to keep Henry all to herself.” He paused. “She had to have known that I wouldn’t have just walked away. I would have insisted on shared custody.”

      Maggie moved closer. “I’m sorry she didn’t tell you. It was wrong of her to keep him from you.”

      Hart reached out and squeezed Maggie’s hand. “Thanks for saying that.”

      It wasn’t just a platitude. It bothered her that he thought it might be. “I mean it, Hart.