Expecting His Brother's Baby. Karen Rose Smith

flung in pain would last a lot longer. Her hands trembled and she wouldn’t let Trish Hammond see that.

      Whatever Trish’s reasons for needing this confrontation, Kylie wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of a scene. She laid the buckle on the desk. “If Alex gave that to you, then he wanted you to have it.” She turned to leave.

      Obviously Trish had wanted to get a much bigger rise out of her because she asked, “Didn’t you mind sharing your husband?”

      Fury rocked Kylie. She didn’t think she’d ever been this angry in her whole life. But she also knew her life with her son or daughter was more important than any hurt this woman could inflict.

      Still, she couldn’t keep the fierceness from her voice. “I believed in the vows I made. I tried to hold my marriage together, but I couldn’t do it alone.”

      As tears burned her eyes, she turned her back on the other woman and left Clementine’s quickly. Outside she blindly made her way to her small blue pickup at the edge of the parking lot. Rooting for her keys, she finally found them as she tried not to think…tried not to feel…tried not to remember.

      However, as she climbed into her truck and turned the ignition switch, she did remember—the weeks at a time Alex had gone on the road following the circuit, the nights of loneliness, the days of chores and finally facing the fact that Saddle Ridge was sinking deeper and deeper into debt and her husband wouldn’t listen to her about it.

      Backing out of her parking space, she veered toward the lot’s entrance and Wild Horse Way. Once on the road she turned on the heater, knowing she was too cold inside for the warmer air to do any good. Tears began falling then as she relived her decision to leave Alex if he didn’t go to a counselor with her. Before he’d left for his last rodeo in Las Vegas, they’d argued. He’d accused her of getting pregnant on purpose to keep him at home more. She’d insisted their marriage didn’t stand a chance unless they tried couples’ therapy. That had been the main reason for her wanting to take the job at the temp agency. Not only to earn more money to pay for the bills, but to pay for counseling so they could put their marriage back together and maybe start over.

      As she avoided a pothole in the road, tears fell harder. She increased her speed outside of town. Her heart hurt so badly she knew it might finally break. Picturing the satisfaction in Trish Hammond’s eyes as she’d handed Kylie the belt buckle, Kylie couldn’t hold in the sobs that broke loose now.

      Distracted, she barely registered the upcoming pothole. As she hit it, her truck listed and fell to the right, banging onto the road. She lost control and, in horror, knew she was going to land in the ravine.

      One prayer passed her lips. “Lord, keep my baby safe.”

      Then the truck lurched sideways and fell sharply, throwing her against the door. When her head hit the steering wheel, a gray fog swept over her. Closing her eyes, she let it engulf her, relieved to escape the pain of a broken heart.

      Chapter One

      Panic gripped Kylie as Brock Warner entered her room Sunday afternoon. Unfortunately, her enforced stay in the hospital since Friday had given her too much time to remember her confrontation with Trish Hammond. All she’d been able to think about was her husband’s infidelity.

      Now here was his half brother! How had he found out about her accident? Was he going to try to convince her to sell Saddle Ridge?

      “What are you doing here?” Her emotions were so raw the question had just popped out.

      Shoving his black Stetson higher on his forehead, Brock stopped beside the chair where Kylie sat. “Dix called me. He was worried sick about you.”

      Her foreman shouldn’t have meddled. “I’m fine.”

      “Don’t you just look fine.” Brock’s thick black eyebrows quirked up as he took notice of her sling, then the bruise on her forehead.

      Her brother-in-law’s Apache blood was evident in the hue of his skin, the dark somberness of his eyes and the jet blackness of his hair. Brock Warner emanated a sensuality when he walked, when he talked and when he smiled, in a way she’d seen in few men. It had given her a jumbled, off-balance sensation when she was a teenager…and still did now. She remembered the night she graduated from high school, the night she’d kissed him and—

      She stood, pride and courage taking over for her and her unborn child. “I’m sorry Dix dragged you here from…wherever you were.”

      “Texas,” Brock filled in. “Between consultations.”

      “When did you arrive?” she asked warily, her gaze taking in everything about him. She hadn’t seen him since Jack Warner’s funeral five years ago…when Brock’s new wife had accompanied him.

      “I got in about an hour ago. Dix looked worn out, so I offered to come get you.”

      Concern for Dix took away her annoyance at his interference. He’d been a friend of her father’s and had looked out for her in a quiet way since he’d gotten her a job at Saddle Ridge. They were both worn out. Trying to keep the ranch afloat without any outside help had been wearing on them long before Alex had died.

      Brock’s gaze softened a bit as it slid from her loose blond hair to her maternity top. “I’m sorry about what happened to Alex.”

      Brock had said that on the phone after he’d missed Alex’s funeral. He’d been doing whatever geologists did somewhere in Central America. Away from civilization, he hadn’t called his home in Texas for messages in over a week. When he finally had, he’d phoned her and learned about the bull-riding accident that had taken his brother’s life. By that time, though, Alex was buried and she hadn’t wanted Brock to learn the condition of Saddle Ridge. It was during that phone call she’d told him she was pregnant but managing perfectly fine.

      “I’m sorry for your loss, too,” she said quietly, knowing Brock had cared deeply about Alex.

      “The last time I talked to him he was in Utah. I should have kept in touch more often,” Brock said with real regret.

      The crack in Kylie’s heart grew a little wider when she thought about the last time she had talked to Alex. After he’d left early for his last rodeo, she was sure their marriage had been over. With what she’d found out from Trish Hammond, it had been over long before that day.

      A smiling nurse bustled into the room, cast an admiring look at Brock, then handed Kylie a few papers. “Here are Dr. Marco’s instructions. I understand he went over them with you this morning.”

      Kylie studied the checklist. For the most part, she was supposed to rest for the next two weeks.

      Brock took them from her hands. “I spoke with your doctor a few minutes ago. I told him I’d make sure you followed his recommendations.”

      “What do you mean you’ll make sure? Go back to Texas, I don’t need you here. Dix should never have called you.”

      “You should have called me long before this. One look at the place—” He shook his head. “There will be time enough for this discussion. Right now, let’s get you home.”

      When Brock took her elbow, Kylie’s knees felt wobbly. She could smell the piney musk of his aftershave, feel the strength in his large hand. She had once dreamed of more than friendship with Brock Warner, but he’d dismissed her as too young for his consideration. He’d come home with a wife and that had told Kylie, more than anything else, that she’d never belong in his life.

      Six months after that, she’d married Alex.

      She and Alex had gone to school together. He’d teased her in the play yard. They’d shared homework. When her pop died and she’d had to sell their homestead to pay debts, when she’d moved to Saddle Ridge and taken a room above the barn to be a groom to the horses, Alex had still seemed more like a brother than a suitor. Then suddenly, after his dad died, he’d turned the full extent of his cowboy charm on her. Not only that, he’d needed her.