The Cowboy's Secret Family. Judy Duarte

my dad?”

      “About anyone and anything.” Miranda glanced across the table at Uncle George. “Would you mind if I let you and Emily wash the dishes alone tonight?”

      “Of course not.” He blessed her with an affectionate smile, then turned to Emily and winked. “I know where your mama hid the chocolate chip cookies. And there’s a brand new carton of vanilla ice cream in the freezer.”

      Miranda didn’t usually let Emily eat sweets this close to bedtime, but she would gladly make an exception tonight. If the two dishwashers wolfed down a dozen cookies and a gallon of ice cream, she wouldn’t complain.

      After rinsing her plate in the sink, Miranda left the kitchen and headed down the hall until she reached Matt’s bedroom. She held her breath, then knocked lightly on the door.

      As footsteps, punctuated by the heart-wrenching tap of his cane, grew louder, her heart flipped and flopped in her chest like a trout on a hook, frantic to return to a safe, familiar environment. But she remained rooted to the floor, determined to face him, and waited for him to let her in.

      When the door swung open, Matt stood before her, broad-shouldered, bare-chested and more muscular than she’d imagined. Her gaze drifted down his taut abs to his jeans, the top button undone. As much as she wanted to continue to take him in, to relish the manly changes that had taken place, she zeroed in on his eyes, once as clear and blue as the Texas sky, now a stormy winter gray.

      He’d worn a similar expression the day her father arrived at the Double G, raising hell and setting the breakup of their teenage romance in motion.

      “I, uh...” She cleared her throat. “I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

      His only response was to step aside, cane in hand, and limp to his bed, where he took a seat on the edge of the mattress, leaving her to shut the door behind her.

      Miranda scanned the room. The same rodeo posters and a schedule, long since outdated, still adorned the off-white walls. The maple chest of drawers and matching nightstand hadn’t been moved. Even the familiar blue-plaid bedspread covered the double bed.

      Too bad the angry cowboy glaring at her wasn’t the same guy she used to know.

      If only he were. She could have faced the old Matt in all honesty, without choosing her words, without holding back. She would have been able to fall into the comfort of his arms and tell him she was sorry for the delay in contacting him, for the hurt she’d unintentionally caused him—for the hurt she’d caused them both.

      She leaned against the closed door. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about Emily sooner.”

      He rolled his eyes. “A lot sooner.”

      Right. “But I didn’t tell her you’d died. Apparently, that was my father’s doing.”

      Matt rolled his eyes. “I’m not surprised. Your dad never thought I was good enough for his little berry princess.”

      Talk about direct hits. She remained standing, clasped fists hanging at her side. “Just so you know, I didn’t find out I was pregnant until after we broke up.”

      Matt crossed his arms and frowned. “You should have called me as soon as you knew.”

      “Yes, you’re right. But if you remember, my dad limited my cell and telephone usage.”

      Matt chuffed at what sounded, even to her, like a lame excuse. “Your father didn’t let you date, either. But you found a way around it.”

      True. She’d lied to her father, telling him time and again she was going to the library to meet with her study group. Her dishonesty hadn’t sat well with her then—or now. But that was the only time she’d willfully deceived him. She had too much respect for him, for all he’d been through, all he’d accomplished in life. As a young boy, he’d gone to work with his father in the strawberry fields, learning the ins and outs of farming. When he grew up, he and his father purchased their own berry farm, then expanded it into an impressive operation with fields all over the state.

      Matt slowly shook his head. “Your old man must have really blown a fuse when he found out you were going to have a baby, especially mine.”

      He certainly had. But going into detail about the early days of her pregnancy wasn’t going to do anyone any good right now, so she cut to the chase. “He was smitten with Emily the very first minute he saw her and held her in his arms. And, for what it’s worth, he’s been a good grandfather to her.”

      Matt clicked his tongue. “Don’t you think that lying to her about me ought to throw him out of the running for Grandfather of the Year?”

      “If she’d asked me, I would have been honest. I had no idea my father would tell her something like that. There was no reason for it. And it was way out of line.”

      “Sounds like you finally learned to stand up to him.”

      “I guess you could say that. But whenever I roll over, it’s out of respect, not fear.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My dad was strict and expected a lot out of me, but he’s a loving father and grandfather. I hope, one day, you’ll be able to see that.”

      “Not gonna happen.”

      She supposed it wouldn’t. Not for a long time, anyway.

      “Does your old man know where you are?” Matt’s harsh tone and narrowed gaze shot right to the heart of her. And so did his question.

      She sucked in a deep breath, hoping the oxygen would clear her head and cleanse her soul, then slowly let it out. “Not exactly, but he knows we’re safe. And that I’m staying with a friend.”

      Matt arched a brow.

      “Okay,” she admitted. “That could be considered a lie of omission. But believe it or not, I’ve always meant well and wanted the best for everyone involved.”

      So why had she begun to feel like the villainess in this mess?

      While tempted to make her way to the edge of Matt’s bed and sit beside him, she realized she’d have to earn the intimacy of his friendship. So she stood her ground and crossed her own arms. “I don’t blame you for being angry at my dad—and not just because he told Emily you were dead. When we were kids, you saw a bad side of him.”

      “I don’t care about your old man or the past. What’s done is done.”

      “Okay, but I’d like to make things right.”

      Matt’s gaze softened slightly, but not enough for her to make any assumptions or to move toward him.

      “Is that why you came to the Double G?” he asked.

      Not really. And not at first. But the compulsion to finally make things right was why she was standing in his room now. “Yes, that’s pretty much why I’m here.”

      He nodded, then glanced at the cane that rested within reach on the edge of the mattress where he sat.

      She placed her hand on her womb, caressing the small baby bump that she wouldn’t be able to hide much longer with blousy tops and dresses. In fact, she’d suspected George already knew she was pregnant, since he was pretty observant. Not that he’d say anything.

      When Matt looked up, she let her hand drop to her side and offered him a shy smile. “Like I said, I’m sorry. I should have told you that you were a father.”

      “You’ve got that right.”

      “I’ve made mistakes, but Emily isn’t one of them. She’s a great kid. So for now, let’s focus on her.”

      “All right.” Matt uncrossed his arms and raked a hand through his hair. “But just for the record, I would’ve done anything in my power to take care of you and Emily.”

      “I know.” And that’s why she’d walked away from him. Matt would have stood