sake, don’t sign anything. Do you hear me?”
She nodded. “I hear you.”
The administrator took Shelby and Liam and their attorneys into a room, explained in detail how the DNA test worked, then had a technician swab the inside of their mouths and draw blood for good measure, vials labeled with their names. In addition to their attorneys, two techs served as witnesses and the entire process was videotaped to assure all was handled correctly. Shelby and Liam both watched, eagle-eyed, as the swabs and vials were sealed into separate bags.
“I’ll also have my and Shane’s blood drawn at Cottonwood County Hospital today,” Shelby said. “I’ll ask for the results to be forwarded to all parties.”
Finally, after another clipped speech about how sorry the administrator was and that she’d call the moment the DNA test results reached her desk, the attorneys left, and Shelby and Liam Mercer were alone.
Liam had the same expression on his face that Shelby had to have on hers. Shock. Confusion. And fear. He was looking down but not at his son or at the floor.
“I’m hanging on to useless hope,” she said. “If Shane isn’t my biological son, if the babies were switched, then the baby in your arms is my child?” She shook her head. “This is crazy.”
“Alexander is my son,” Liam practically growled, his expression so fierce she took a step back. “Sorry,” he said. “I know you’re going through the same thing I am. I don’t mean to take this out on you, of all people.”
She bit her lip and let out a breath. Was the baby in Liam’s arms her son? Had she walked out of this clinic six months ago with someone else’s child? And left her own behind? Tears pricked her eyes.
“May I see him?” Shelby asked, blinking back hard on the tears. “Up close?”
Liam hesitated, then stepped toward her. Shelby tried to stifle the gasp. Alexander Mercer did look an awful lot like her. Down to the shape of the eyes, his face, something in his expression and the little Ingalls birthmark. But he had a dimple—like Liam. None of the Ingallses had a dimple.
But Shane’s father did.
Still, hair and eye color and a birthmark and a dimple didn’t mean Shane wasn’t her son.
Even if the baby in her arms looked a lot like Liam Mercer.
Shelby shook her head, suddenly unable to speak. She sucked in a breath. “I love Shane with all my heart. I’m his only parent. I’m his mother. He’s my son.”
“I feel the same way about Alexander,” Liam said. “His mother died in childbirth.”
Oh, no. That was why he looked the way he had that night. “I’m so sorry.” She let out a breath. “And I’m scared. Really, really scared.”
“I don’t say this often, Ms. Ingalls. But so am I.”
That made her feel better. Especially because he was a Mercer. And the Mercer name in Wedlock Creek meant two things. Power and money. Shelby barely broke even every month. And her lawyer was on loan.
“Liam,” she said. “My son looks a lot like you. And your son looks a lot like me.”
He turned away, then stared down at the baby in his arms. Then at her. Then back to his son. “Yeah. I know. And I’m worried as hell. That the babies actually could have been switched. I mean, I saw you here, in this clinic, in labor, at the same time Alexander’s mother was in labor. I saw you with my own eyes. You gave birth to a baby boy. That’s not in dispute. If Shane isn’t yours, then...” He shook his head, then stared at the ground.
She expelled a breath. “So now what?”
Alexander gurgled and cooed, “Du, wa,” his gaze on Shane. The two babies eyed each other, smiles forming. Alexander reached out to touch Shane’s arm and Shane smiled, reaching to touch the brim of the little Stetson.
“They like each other,” Liam said softly, his voice hollow. “Look, let’s go to the hospital and get your and Shane’s blood drawn for typing. For all we know, the clinic here has been making mistakes for years. Let’s find out for sure that you and Shane can’t be related.”
Should she go anywhere with Liam Mercer? Maybe she should run it by her lawyer. But then again, there was only one person on earth who knew what this insanity felt like: Liam. She wanted to hear what he had to say. She needed to be around him right now.
She let out a breath and nodded. “I’m in no position to drive. My hands will shake on the wheel.”
“I’ll drive. I’ll install Shane’s seat in the back of my SUV.”
Which meant he was calm. Outwardly, anyway. Because he knew that no matter what, he wouldn’t lose anything? That was very likely how things were for Mercers. Money and power talked.
“I want to make something clear, Mr. Mercer. I know the Mercer name. You and your family are wealthy and powerful and own half the commercial real estate and the rodeo. I’m a single mother without much to my name but a secondhand shop. Regardless, if you push me, if you try anything underhanded, I’ll fight you with everything I have.”
“Whoa,” he said, his blue eyes steady on her. “We’re going through the same thing, Ms. Ingalls. We’re in the same position. Money and power are meaningless here. If Alexander isn’t my biological son, all the money in Wyoming won’t make it any less true.”
She stared at him. He was right—to a point. Money and power could take Shane away from her. He could end up with both boys.
“I might be rich, Ms. Ingalls. But I’m not underhanded. I’m a single parent, just like you are. And I’ll swear on anything you want. I’ll never do anything to hurt you or these babies.”
The sincerity on his face made her feel better. And truth be told, she needed to believe him or she’d spontaneously combust. “Call me Shelby.”
He nodded. “And call me Liam.”
He gestured for her to walk ahead out the door. “Let’s get the hell out of this clinic.”
As she watched Liam zip up his son’s fleece bunting, the tenderness on the man’s face almost stole her breath.
He loves that baby. Like I love Shane.
Dear God, this was a mess.
You’re my son, no matter what, she whispered silently to Shane.
As they left the office, each holding a baby, Shelby was barely hanging on. If the DNA tests proved the impossible, that they’d each taken home a baby who wasn’t theirs, would Liam try to seek custody of both babies and win because of his power and money and influence? Right now it was easy for him to say he’d never do anything to hurt her. His back wasn’t up against a wall—yet, anyway. Not like hers was.
Stop getting ahead of yourself, Shelby. He might be a Mercer, but she had a loud, bossy, big family in Wedlock Creek. They’d have her back. Her sister had managed to supply her with a lawyer in less than five minutes, after all. One step at a time, one piece of information at a time.
Feeling
