The Cowboy's Little Surprise. Barbara Daille White

truck.

      “I’m over there.” He gestured to the lone vehicle.

      “Come on, Scott,” she said. “Let’s get you into your seat so you can go and have your dinner.”

      As they walked ahead of him, the sun highlighted the silky length of dark braid hanging almost to Tina’s waist. He’d always wanted to unravel that braid and run his fingers through her hair. She hadn’t allowed him that pleasure the one time they’d been together...

      He ran his hand over his face, wanting to wipe away the memory. She wasn’t the only one to blame for what had happened that night. Or the only one responsible for what had come of it.

      Why hadn’t she said something years ago?

      At the truck, while Tina strapped his nephew into place, he turned away to plant his butt against the side of the pickup. He tugged his battered hat down, blocking the sun from his eyes.

      He didn’t want that glare to keep him from getting a good look at Tina’s face while they talked. Didn’t want her finding a way to hide anything from him.

      Anything else from him.

      Irritation and resentment roiled inside, tightening his chest.

      He looked over his shoulder. Tina must have caught the movement through the cab window. She looked up and stared right at him, her mouth closed in a firm, straight line, as if telling him she didn’t plan to say a word.

      No problem. He had enough words for them both.

      He turned his back on her again and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t going anywhere until he’d said what he had to say. Yet he couldn’t deny he had some pressing questions for her. For himself, too.

      Most important, how was he going to handle this news that had finally sunk in, leaving him ready to keel over from the shock?

      He had a son.

      Memories slammed into him, bombarding him with parts of his past he’d thought long forgotten. Scenes from the rare occasions his dad bothered to notice he was alive. Times his dad would hurl nothing but scathing words his way...

       You’re a disgrace as a son.

      You’re no good.

       You’re worthless.

      He’d never bothered to dispute anything his father said. Fighting back would only make things worse for him. Or make his dad turn his anger on Layne.

      For most of his life, he had struggled not to believe anything his old man had thrown at him. But one thing was true.

      With a role model like that, he didn’t have a chance in hell of being a good dad.

      Yet, he now had a son.

Chapter Four

      Tina paused near the hood of Cole’s truck and took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for a conversation she didn’t want to have.

      She walked around the truck and had barely come to a stop in front of Cole before he exploded.

      “Does everyone in Cowboy Creek know what you never took the trouble to tell me?”

      She forced herself not to recoil from the venom in his tone. “No. Nobody—” Thinking of the confidences she had always shared with her best friend, she choked off her automatic response.

      “And what have you told your boy? My boy?”

      “Don’t call him that.” Her heart thudded at his easy assumption. “Robbie’s my son.”

      “And mine. But we covered that already. Let’s move on to something new. Why didn’t you contact me? You must have known you were pregnant before I left town. Hell, you probably knew before graduation.”

      “What if I did? Why would I think you’d want to hear the result of our one-night stand?”

      Her breath caught in her throat at what she had just inadvertently called her son.

      She couldn’t let Cole reduce her to this.

      All her life, she’d been the straitlaced, logical, rational Tina that Ally always teasingly encouraged to loosen up. All her life, except one time with Cole. A time she could never regret, since it had given her the greatest gift she had ever received.

      But she needed to rely on the logical, rational Tina now. She couldn’t let her emotions get in the way. She had to protect her son.

      The reminder allowed her to breathe deeply and evenly again. It helped her to stay calm. “After our weekend together, you made it clear you weren’t interested in me. Why would you care that I was going to have a baby?”

      “Because it wasn’t just yours.” The muscles in his neck tightened as he swallowed hard. “Did you ever plan to tell me?”

      His question vibrated with restrained emotion. The lines around his eyes deepened as if it had hurt him to ask the question. As if he were bracing himself for her reply.

      An unwanted burst of compassion filled her.

      She forced herself to look away and harden her heart. Where was his compassion when she’d needed it?

      She glanced into the truck’s rear seat. Scott sat flipping the pages of a coloring book. “If you had stayed in town,” she murmured, measuring her words, “there might have been a chance you’d have found out then.”

      He laughed harshly. “You’re in the wrong profession, Tina. You should’ve become a politician—except you’d have to practice maintaining eye contact. All right. Forget the double-talk. Forget I even asked. The point is, I know now. And you can just keep the news to yourself.”

      “I need to tell my grandparents.”

      “But nobody else.” He shifted his Stetson and ran his hand through his hair, then stared off into the distance. “I’ll need some time before we start telling other folks.”

      “I didn’t plan to tell anyone else.”

      “Yeah, that’s obvious,” he said, his tone cold. “But I sure do.” When she gasped, he narrowed his eyes. “What? Did you think I’d just walk away from this?”

       This.

      Forget watching what she said. Forget compassion. Now his words, tossed out so offhandedly, struck at her deepest fear.

      “This what?” she demanded. “This confrontation? This situation? This child that’s my life—not yours? I’ll tell you the truth, flat-out straight, as Jed would say. Yes, I thought you would walk away. That’s always been your style, hasn’t it? And I want you to go. There’s no reason for you to come back.”

      “Except that I’ve got a job here. And,” he added, his voice dangerously soft, “now I’ve got other obligations.”

      A chill ran through her. She wrapped her arms around her middle. “You have no obligations. Not as far as I’m concerned.”

      “And the boy?” he said. “What about where he’s concerned?”

      “I’ll take care of Robbie.”

      Yet, how could she do that completely on her own?

      She had spent so much of her life with unanswered questions about her own parents...why they didn’t want her, why they didn’t love her, why they had left her behind for Abuela to raise.

      Eventually, Robbie would have questions about his daddy, too. Questions only Cole could answer.

      As if he sensed her uncertainty, as if he wanted to take advantage of her—again—he said flatly, “I couldn’t have fulfilled my obligations in the past, since I never knew about the child. But now