The Rancher's Secret Child. Brenda Minton

no matter what happens, you’ll protect him,” Jane countered. “I know you will. You’ve been more than an aunt to that little boy since the day he was born.”

      She sighed, holding the phone tight to her ear as thunder rumbled across a sky heavy with clouds. It was May. Of course there would be storms.

      Neither she nor her foster mom spoke for several long moments. As much as they had loved Sammy, they’d also known her faults. She had struggled, even after Oliver’s birth. Neither of them wanted to speak of the past, not when it meant dwelling on the Sammy who had slipped into old behaviors and left her son too often with Jane or Lissa.

      She’d been trying to straighten up and do right. That was what they focused on. She’d been working so hard on being better, for Oliver’s sake.

      “Don’t dwell on it,” Jane spoke softly. “You’ve taken a lot on yourself. And Sammy left a large hole in your life, along with this burden. You know I’m praying for you.”

      “I know you are.” She looked anxiously up at the sky again. “I’d better let you go. It’s raining harder and making it difficult to hear. I’m going to go back inside with Oliver.”

      “Give him kisses from his Gee Gee.”

      Lissa smiled as she said goodbye and she felt better. Jane always made her feel better. She was a true mother, even if she had come late to Lissa’s life. Her own mother had failed Lissa for the first fourteen years, but Jane and Tom Simms had picked up the pieces and given her a future. They were the parents she turned to. Her own mother was someone she occasionally reached out to, hoping to find her better.

      As she entered the restaurant, the wind picked up and so did the rain. Big drops splattered the windows and bounced off the cars parked along the front of Essie’s. A flash of lightning lit up the early-morning sky and Oliver gulped as he swallowed a bite of biscuits and gravy. Wide-eyed, he looked up at Lissa as she sat down across from him.

      “Is it a tornado?” he asked in hushed tones.

      “No,” she assured him. “Just rain. We always need rain in the spring.”

      A woman ran out of the kitchen. “Land sakes, it’s gonna flood. I heard it on the news.”

      The waitress hurried from a table where she’d just delivered an order and took the older woman by the hand. “Bea, it isn’t a flood. It’s a storm. We get them in the spring and they pass. Look, there’s a little boy and you don’t want to scare him. Head on back to the kitchen. I left an order for you to cook while Essie is gone.”

      The woman, midfifties and wearing a floral-print dress, orthopedic shoes and athletic socks, focused her wild-eyed attention on Oliver. Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed.

      “Why, doesn’t he look the spittin’ image of the Palermo twins? I reckon someone is in big trouble and that’s why Essie went roaring out of here in her old Scout. She said Marcus was about to get his ears boxed.”

      The waitress tugged on the woman’s arm. “Bea, back to the kitchen.”

      Bea remained standing, wringing her hands in her apron. She glanced at Oliver and then at the windows. Lightning flashed across the sky. She trembled visibly.

      “Is the little boy scared?” Bea asked the waitress, Libby. “I remember Marcus and Alex hiding under tables when it stormed. They were little like that.”

      “He isn’t afraid.” Libby tried to move the cook, but Bea wouldn’t budge.

      The bells chimed, signaling that the café door had opened. A breeze too cool for mid-May swept through the café and the rain became a deafening roar. Lissa didn’t have to look to know who would be coming through the door. She knew because the woman, Bea, glanced from the door to Oliver and back to the door. She knew because Oliver stopped looking worried and grinned big.

      “I’m going back to the kitchen,” Bea announced. “Marcus is in big trouble.”

      Marcus nodded a greeting to a few people, pulled off his hat and headed in their direction. He half grinned at Oliver as he pulled out the empty chair at their table.

      “Mind if I sit?” he asked as he folded his lean, athletic frame into the seat. He’d taken off his hat and he dropped it on Oliver’s head.

      Lissa started to ask if it mattered that she did mind. Instead, she forced a smile and shook her head. “No. Of course not.”

      At her terse response he grinned and nodded at the coffee cup on the table. He turned the cup over for the waitress to fill and leaned back as if he didn’t feel the tension. But even Oliver felt it. The boy glanced from Marcus to Lissa and back to Marcus.

      “Are you enjoying your biscuits and gravy?” he asked Oliver.

      “Yeah. They’re the best.” Oliver took another big bite. “Can I see your dog again?”

      “Maybe,” he answered.

      Lissa wanted to hurt him for being so noncommittal. She wanted to yell at him for invading their lives and turning everything upside down. But then, hadn’t she been the one doing the invading? Because she’d made this trip, none of their lives would ever be the same.

      “Hey, Oliver, want to come back to the kitchen and help me make today’s dessert? You can even taste the pudding to make sure it’s good.” Essie, owner of the café and Marcus’s aunt, approached their table. She wiped her hands on her apron and appeared to be completely innocent of interfering.

      “Can I?” Oliver looked from Essie to Lissa. And then his gaze drifted to Marcus, and for the first time the boy seemed confused and unsure of the situation. “Aunt Lissa, are you okay?”

      “Of course I’m okay. And yes, you can go with Miss Essie. I think that would be fun. When you get back, we’ll leave.”

      He gave her a quick hug, and the feel of his small arms wrapping around her neck was the sweetest thing ever. He wasn’t hers, but she loved him as if he were. Marcus Palermo could take him from her. She’d known that when she came here. She’d known for the past year that her time with Oliver might be limited. It had been a constant source of stress.

      Essie gave them both a long look that held a lot of meaning, then she walked off with Oliver’s hand tucked in hers. The two were discussing chocolate pie and brownies. Oliver glanced back as he walked through the door to the kitchen.

      “Surprise,” Marcus whispered as the doors to the kitchen closed. They weren’t alone. There were still people in the café sending them curious looks that they didn’t try to disguise.

      “Yes. I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

      “Imagine how I felt when my aunt showed up at my place to inform me there was a woman in town and she had a little boy that looks a lot like me. Why are you still in town?”

      He had a point. A good one. “I couldn’t leave. I wanted you to have a night to think about Oliver and being a father.”

      “So you planned on giving me another chance?” He arched a brow at her, clearly questioning her honesty. Or her sanity.

      Lissa didn’t quite know what to say.

      She had wanted to go on, to forget Marcus and Bluebonnet Springs. But Oliver had been in the back seat of the car, his dark eyes intent on her face in the mirror, and he’d asked about Marcus and wondered if he’d been a friend of his mommy. Pushing aside her feelings of protectiveness, for Oliver’s sake she’d searched for a place to stay. For one night, she’d told herself. To give Marcus a chance.

      She didn’t want to get ten years down the road and have Oliver ask her why she’d kept him from his father. She also didn’t want to settle into her life as Oliver’s mom and have Marcus show up out of the blue one day and take him.

      “You could give a guy a chance to catch his breath. This did come out of nowhere,” Marcus said. The admission seemed pulled