The Cattleman, The Baby and Me. Michelle Douglas

it?’ She lifted her chin. ‘We can deal with this like adults or we can leave it to the lawyers. It’s your call.’

      He shifted his gaze from the child to her. She didn’t look like a liar or a cheat, but then neither had his ex-wife.

      It would be better to let the lawyers deal with it.

      Under his continued scrutiny she turned a shade paler, and then she reached up and fastened the top button on her oversized and decidedly rumpled shirt.

      He blinked.

      ‘And you can stop looking at me like that,’ she said, in a voice so acid it would dissolve the rust from weathered corrugated iron. ‘I haven’t slept in two days. I’ve been stuck in that shoebox of a plane for over six hours. I’ve been weed on, vomited on, it’s as hot as blazes, and the dust is driving me mad! If I look like a bag lady, then—’

      ‘You don’t look like a bag lady.’ He didn’t know what had possessed him to say that. Only she didn’t look like a bag lady. And if she was feeling the heat, why wasn’t she undoing a few buttons or taking that long-sleeved shirt off instead? Even with the baby cradled in her arms he could make out the lines of the T-shirt she wore beneath it.

      She continued to stare at him. Her chin didn’t drop. As a ploy to force him to confront her claim, it worked. Her sister and his brother? He tried to weigh it, assess it.

      Why hadn’t she said Lucas was the father, then?

      His gut clenched. The day darkened. Given all he’d found out about Lucas after the accident, it made an uncanny kind of sense. It could all still be a pack of lies, of course, and Sapphire Thomas might still be a liar and a cheat. Or her sister might have taken advantage of her and spun her a whole pack of lies. Those things were just as possible.

      Something hard and heavy settled in his gut. He averted his eyes from the child. Regardless of how much he wanted to, he could not dismiss this woman’s claims. They warranted investigation. He owed Lucas that much.

      And much, much more.

      One thing was clear, though. He had to disabuse this woman of the misapprehension she was currently labouring under. ‘Ms Thomas, I know when I said this before that you didn’t believe me, but I am not that child’s father.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘I have never met your sister, and I have never been to Rottnest Island. I certainly haven’t taken a holiday—not there, not anywhere—in the last five years.’

      Her green eyes darkened in confusion. ‘But—’

      ‘He ain’t either,’ Sid piped in. ‘It’s become a bit of a joke in these parts.’

      Liam had no reason to lie. If he had a son, he would never turn his back on him. His hands clenched. Never!

      All the blood drained from Sapphire’s face. Liam pushed his more sombre thoughts aside and braced himself to move forward and steady her if she started to sway. From somewhere, though, she found the strength to stiffen her spine and lift her chin. The lines of exhaustion that fanned out from her eyes tugged at him.

      ‘But Emmy named you. She…She said…’ She swallowed, obviously trying to come to terms with his revelation. Bruised eyes met his. She recoiled from him as if he’d threatened to strike her…or worse. ‘You’d deny your own son?’

      ‘No!’ The word broke from him, harsher than he’d meant it to. ‘I wish—’

      He couldn’t finish that sentence. ‘I’m not his father.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘But I think I know who might be.’

      Her jaw dropped. He took advantage of her momentary silence to cast a sidelong glance at Sid, and hoped that she’d interpret it correctly—he didn’t want to discuss this any further in front of the other man.

      Her eyes narrowed. ‘Do you? Or is this just a way of putting me off?’

      ‘I’m not trying to brush you off, Ms Thomas. You’re right—we do have a lot to discuss.’ He glanced at the sky. The afternoon was lengthening. ‘Where are you staying?’ It wouldn’t do to let this sit. He wanted to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.

      ‘Oh, I…’ She blinked, as if she hadn’t expected him to be so reasonable. ‘I’m staying at the Beach View Motel in Broome.’

      ‘Not tonight, you ain’t,’ Sid said unceremoniously, shuffling forward. ‘I’m having a lay-over in Kununurra. You didn’t say this was a return trip. You just said you wanted a ride to Newarra,’ he added, when Sapphie’s jaw dropped.

      ‘But—’

      ‘I’m not heading back to Broome for another two days.’ Sid glanced at Liam, grimaced. ‘And the yearling sales are on.’

      Which meant every available room in Kununurra would be booked out. Liam bit back something rude and succinct. He didn’t want a woman at Newarra. He didn’t want a child there either—reminding him, taunting him, plaguing him with all that he’d lost. Not even for two days.

      ‘There’s nothing for it.’ Sid clapped Liam on the back. ‘You’re going to have to put Ms Thomas and her baby up.’

      If the woman hadn’t been standing within hearing distance he’d have let fly, told Sid exactly what he thought of that plan. His lip curled. Sid was trying to protect his bachelor pad in Kununurra, that was what. A makeshift bachelor pad in an airplane hangar, Liam reminded himself. It was no place for a woman or a child. And he could hardly blame Sid for that when it was exactly what he was doing too. Trying to do.

      He reminded himself of all he owed Lucas.

      ‘What’s he talking about?’ the Thomas woman snapped.

      Liam planted his hands on his hips. ‘You’re going to have to stay here tonight.’

      She stiffened. ‘I don’t think so. I’ll book into a motel or a B&B in Kununurra.’

      ‘Ms Thomas, with the yearling sales on you won’t get a room in Kununurra.’ He swept out an arm to indicate the emptiness of the landscape. ‘It’s not like we’re exactly teaming with other options out here, you know?’ Kununurra was nearly four hundred kilometres away. Broome was closer to six hundred. Newarra’s nearest neighbour was a three-hundred-and-fifty kilometre drive. He bit back his impatience. ‘You don’t have any other choice.’

      She backed up a step. ‘A woman always has a choice.’

      Her words came out low and vehement. She reminded him of a spooked heifer. He pursed his lips, adjusted his hat. He worked at keeping his voice low and easy. ‘I guess you could camp out if you wanted. I could lend you some gear.’ He lifted a deliberately casual shoulder. ‘But my housekeeper would have my hide if I let you do any such thing.’

      There was no chance he was letting her camp out on his land. Who knew what trouble she’d get herself into? But long practice told him it would be better for Sapphire Thomas to come to the conclusion about the best course of action in her own time. Women were like that—contrary. High-maintenance. Trouble.

      ‘Beattie’s cookin’ is a real treat too,’ Sid added.

      As Liam had hoped, her shoulders relaxed at the mention of his housekeeper. He forced himself to glance at the child nestled in her arms. ‘And there is the child to consider.’

      She blinked. Her tongue snaked out to moisten her lips—a gesture that betrayed her nervousness. Then her chin shot up and Liam had to own she hid those nerves pretty well. Against his will, something akin to admiration warmed his veins.

      ‘Harry,’ she shot back like a challenge. ‘His name is Harry.’

      The warmth fled. His throat went dry as sawdust. ‘Harry,’ he forced himself to say, ‘might prefer a cot to a tent.’

      She chewed her bottom lip.

      ‘Of