Claiming His Brother's Baby. Helen Lacey

house belongs to you, Tanner. It’s your decision. Your call. I’ve got nothing to do with it.”

       You’ve got everything to do with it...

      Guilt pressed between his shoulders. And rage toward his brother that he quickly pushed back down. “On paper, perhaps. However,” he said and touched Oliver’s cheek, “there’s more to this situation than an out-of-date last will and testament. And there’s little point in imagining the worse outcome before we have all the facts.”

      “But the mortgage—”

      “We’ll see what happens. And any money left from the insurance will go into trust for Oliver.”

      “But that’s not what Doug wanted,” she replied quickly. “He left everything to you.”

      Tanner knew it had hurt her. How could it not? She was in a relationship with his brother and Doug had failed to provide for her and her child when she needed it the most.

      In typical Doug fashion.

      It wasn’t the first time his brother had betrayed a woman he’d professed to love.

      “He would have changed things,” Tanner said, lying through his teeth as he looked down at the baby. “If he’d had the opportunity and the time. But he was in a war zone and on a covert mission, Cassie...and probably not thinking clearly.”

      She sighed heavily. “I know that. He was...surprised... I mean, when I told him about the baby.”

      Surprised? Tanner knew that wasn’t the half of it. Doug had called him at three in the morning in a rage, ranting about how Cassie had deliberately gotten pregnant and probably planned to trap him into a marriage he didn’t want. He played devil’s advocate as best he could, insisting that Cassie wouldn’t be so manipulative. But Doug was unswayed. He didn’t want marriage. Or children. And Tanner knew his brother intended telling Cassie as much, had he lived. He had the proof via several emails Doug had sent before he was killed.

      The baby gurgled and he grabbed on to the distraction. He couldn’t tell her the truth. He wouldn’t. It was better she believed Doug wanted to do the right thing by her and his son.

      “This little guy is my nephew and I promised Doug I’d look out for him,” he said softly and touched Oliver’s head. “And you.”

      She visibly stiffened. “I don’t need looking out for, Tanner. I can take care of myself and Oliver.”

      The air crackled and Tanner didn’t miss the edge of resentment in her voice. Not that he really blamed her. Cassie Duncan had no real reason to trust him. But he didn’t want to be at war with her, either.

      “Can you at least meet me halfway, Cassie?” he asked. “I know you’ve been through a lot these past few months, but I’m not your enemy.”

      “Then what exactly are you, Tanner? My knight in shining armor?”

      “How about your friend?” he suggested and the moment the words came out, he felt like a complete fraud. He could never be friends with Cassie. He’d do what he’d returned to Crystal Point to do and then hightail it back home.

      She stared at him. “Friends? Sure...”

      But she looked as unconvinced about the idea as he was.

      He placed Oliver back in the rocker. “I’ve got a few errands to run. But I’ll come back a little later to see this little guy again and get my bags, if that’s okay?”

      She nodded. “Okay.”

      Then he left her alone.

      His leg ached, and Tanner pressed down heavily on his heel to help ease the pain as he walked from the house and headed for his rental car. He needed to clear his thoughts for a while. And knew just where to do that.

      Five minutes later he turned the car into a familiar driveway. The old farmhouse looked much the same, as did the seventy-five-year-old woman who stood on the porch, waving at him to come inside. Tanner waved back and got out of the rental car.

      Ruthie Nevelson had lived just out of Crystal Point for over sixty years. A widow for more than a quarter century, she’d been a friend and neighbor when his folks were alive and a much needed friend to him once they were gone. From her front gate, in the distance Tanner could see the rooftop of the home he’d lived in as a young boy. It was still a working sugarcane farm and he breathed in a heavy, nostalgic breath. If his parents had lived he would have taken over the farm and been the fourth generation McCord to do so. Instead, the place had been sold to another neighboring farmer three months after their deaths and Tanner was shipped off to boarding school a couple of weeks later. After that, he spent the holidays with Ruthie. Doug was in the army by then and returned whenever he could. But there were times when Tanner didn’t see his brother for six or more months.

      It was Ruthie who showed him kindness and offered comfort and understanding while he grieved the loss of his parents. Not really a grandmother, but as close to one as Tanner had known. It was she who’d pushed him to pursue his talent with horses and arranged the opportunity for him to work with her brother-in-law, a horse breaker and rancher, in South Dakota. After traveling through Europe for a couple of years, Tanner settled in Cedar Creek ten years ago and finally found a place he could call his own.

      He locked the car and headed up the path.

      “’Bout time you got here,” Ruthie said with a wide grin as he took the narrow steps in two strides and landed on the porch. “I’ve had the coffee ready for half an hour.”

      Tanner hugged her close. He hadn’t seen Ruthie for two years and she still looked as vibrant and healthy as she did back then. Her hair was still dyed an impossibly bright red, and she still wore moleskins, her favorite cowboy boots, and moved with that straight-backed confidence he’d recognize anywhere. Ruthie Nevelson was the best person he’d ever known, and he’d missed her like crazy.

      “Hello, Ruthie,” he said, smiling broadly. “It’s good to see you, too.”

      She set herself back to get a better look at him. “That leg still ailing you?”

      He nodded. “A little. The long flight didn’t help. It’ll ease up in a couple of days.”

      “Good,” she said and grabbed his arm. “Now, come inside and eat the cake I made for you.”

      There had always been something about Ruthie’s cooking that could cheer him up, and she knew it well. He followed her inside the house and down the narrow hall. Two small dogs came scurrying to greet them and bounced around his feet for attention.

      “Ignore them,” she said as she dropped her hat on the cluttered counter and pointed to a seat at the table. “They’ll lose interest soon enough.”

      “They’re new,” he said and pulled out a chair. “What happened to Bluey?” he asked about her old sheepdog.

      “Got sick and died last spring,” she replied. “Inherited these two when Stan Jarvis passed away a few months ago.”

      Stan had been Ruthie’s on-again, off-again suitor for over twenty years. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

      She shrugged and grabbed two mugs. “Everybody dies,” she said and gave him a wide smile. “Even this old girl will one day.”

      “Impossible,” Tanner said with a grin, then more seriously. “It’s so good to see you.”

      “You, too.” Ruthie poured coffee and brought the mugs to the table. “I was expecting you yesterday. Where’d you stay last night?”

      “Cassie’s,” Tanner said as he sat down and spotted a large frosted cake in the center of the table. He reached out to steal a fingerful of frosting, giving an approving “Mmm” at the delicious flavor.

      Ruthie stared at him. “I see.”

      “It was late when I got there,” he explained. “And