Newborn Daddy. Judy Christenberry

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Newborn Daddy - Judy Christenberry Mills & Boon Silhouette

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carrying a pink bundle. A girl. He was about to turn back to his nephew when the nurse put the baby girl in the bed next to Beth’s baby. Then she slid the birth card into place. As she moved away, after smiling at him, he let his gaze drift to the birth card, not really reading it until he saw familiar words.

      His name. Listed as the father.

      Ryan got a sick feeling in his stomach. His gaze immediately shifted to the corresponding blank. Mother: Emma Davenport.

      He slapped his hands on the glass wall for support and stared at the card, sure he’d misread it. What it said couldn’t be true. There had to be another Ryan Nix.

      Another Ryan Nix who’d had an affair with another Emma Davenport that had ended seven months ago.

      Yeah, right.

      Damn her, he’d told her he’d never have another child, never marry again. Hadn’t she listened? In fact, he’d been downright rude, his anger raw and painful. She’d thought she could replace Merilee? Give him a child as perfect as Ryan Junior? Replace his lost family?

      He’d sent her away, ended their affair, had nothing to do with her since.

      Without thinking, he hurried back to the nurses’ desk. “What room is Emma Davenport in?” he demanded.

      “Two-twelve, sir,” the nurse said. She appeared ready to add something else, but Ryan didn’t wait. Her room was on the opposite side of the small hospital from Beth’s.

      His cowboy boots weren’t quiet as he raced down the hall, but he was beyond consideration for anyone. He felt betrayed, and he was going to let the betrayer know about it.

      He entered the room, his roar already in full force. “Emma Davenport!”

      A pale face, smaller than he remembered, lay on the pillow. Alarm registered in her eyes by the time he paused.

      “How dare you?” he ripped. “I told you I never wanted children! Did you think I was lying? Did you think you’d force me into marriage this way?”

      He frowned when she didn’t say a word. In fact, she’d closed her eyes.

      “Emma! Did you hear me?”

      The door opened. “I suspect everyone heard you, Mr. Nix,” an older nurse, one who’d been a friend of his mother’s, said. “Would you please step outside?”

      “No! I want some answers!” he insisted, glaring at Emma. Then he frowned. If anything, Emma’s pale face had whitened even more. Before he could express concern, however, the nurse had taken him by the arm.

      “I think you’d better leave. Our patient needs her rest.”

      “Emma!” Ryan demanded.

      “Please go.” Her voice was barely a whisper, not the low, musical tones that had first attracted him.

      Before he could protest or question Emma again, the nurse dragged him out into the hallway.

      “Ryan, whatever issues you have with Miss Davenport, save them. She’s having a difficult time and needs all her energy to get better.”

      “What do you mean?” Ryan asked, staring at the nurse. He remembered how pale Emma was. How she didn’t respond. How her voice sounded sad and lifeless. “What’s wrong with her?”

      “Men!” the nurse exclaimed. “She just had a baby! Now, stay out of that room, or I’ll call the doctor.”

      Ryan stumbled down the hallway, confused, still angry but worried. He walked by the nursery again, on the way to Beth’s room, and he stopped to look at the child that was purportedly claimed to be his.

      How could that tiny form be partly his? Even when Ryan, Jr. was small, he hadn’t been that small. Or that delicate. Beautiful. Like Emma.

      He cringed. He’d hidden from his behavior seven months ago when—seven months. Horrified, he took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. She’d been pregnant when she’d suggested—when she’d asked about moving in, about making a family. She’d already been pregnant.

      And he’d yelled at her. Sent her away.

      His mama had raised him to be a gentleman. But he hadn’t been that day. He’d enjoyed Emma’s body. He’d even admit to enjoying Emma. She was different from Merilee. His wife had been vibrant, alive, always the center of everything.

      Emma was quiet, even shy at times. He’d sensed in her the same kind of wrenching loneliness he felt. He’d thought she’d understand why he wanted nothing personal, nothing permanent. But he hadn’t told her. He hadn’t been honest…but then she hadn’t asked.

      When he’d savaged her after her hesitant suggestion, it had never occurred to him that she might already be pregnant. He was ashamed of what he’d done. Had even considered apologizing, but he hadn’t wanted her to hope he’d change his mind. Better for her to put him behind her and move on.

      But she couldn’t.

      Because she was already pregnant.

      “Damn!” he muttered.

      “Ryan? That you? Are you admiring my son? Isn’t he—?” His brother-in-law, Jack Kirby, broke off. “Shoot, I’m sorry, Ryan. I was so excited I forgot—I mean, uh, are you coming in to see Beth?”

      “Yeah,” Ryan agreed, his throat raw, his voice heavy. “That’s what I was coming to do.” He hurried toward Jack.

      Jack led the way into Beth’s room. His sister was smiling, and Jack immediately hurried to her side, hugging and kissing her before he pointed out Ryan’s presence. “Hey, honey, look who’s here?”

      “Oh, Ryan, I’m so glad you came. Did you see him? Isn’t he beautiful?” Beth asked, her face lit with happiness.

      All Ryan could see was Emma’s pale face, the sadness in her eyes. He looked around Beth’s room. The rooms were identical, but Beth’s was already filled with flowers…and a loving husband.

      Emma had nothing.

      Acid ate at his stomach. Guilt filled him. Emma had been alone for the past seven months. He knew because Beth had gone to see her after she and Ryan had split up. Beth had wanted to tell her they could still be friends, because she’d liked Emma. But Emma had refused, telling Beth it would be too painful.

      He had occasionally asked Beth, or other women in town, about Emma, in a casual way. But she was like a shadow, barely appearing, slipping away, always bundled up.

      Hiding her pregnancy.

      “Ryan? Is it too hard for you? You can go home if it is. I appreciate you making the effort, but I’ll understand.” Beth offered him a gentle smile, putting aside her own happiness with concern for him.

      He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “No, honey, I’m okay. You have a fine son. You have a right to be proud.”

      Both new parents beamed at him.

      “Have you called Mom and Dad yet?”

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