back when they were dirt-poor Indians dreaming big. And if she was after the money, wouldn’t she have thrown that baby in his face the moment he’d set foot back on this rez, demanding child support? She hadn’t. She hadn’t said a word. Nothing about her actions reminded him of the girl he used to know.
But then, the woman in front of him wasn’t that girl either. Beyond the appearance of luscious, womanly curves—curves that took every noble intention of his and blew it to hell and back—Tanya didn’t look at him with the same adoration—the same, well, devotion. More than anything, she seemed pissed that he was here.
Nick looked around the tiny house. As houses on the rez went, it was quite nice. The windows were intact, the electricity was hooked up and the plumbing featured running water. The house was a hell of a lot nicer than the trailer he’d grown up in. By that lousy standard, she was doing well for herself. She didn’t need his money. Not desperately anyway.
But compared to the penthouse apartment he’d left behind in Chicago, this place was a dump. No other way to describe it. The house was smaller than his bathroom had been, with just an open kitchen/living room combo—he couldn’t use the term “great” room because it was anything but great—and a single bedroom. With no crib.
He flicked a piece of peeling paint off the doorframe and hoped to hell it wasn’t lead paint. Tanya wasn’t his. Maybe the kid wasn’t his. But he’d cared for her once, and it hurt to see her living in a hellhole like this. Grinding poverty made him defensive.
Tanya turned a slow circle as she rocked that baby to sleep. Her dark eyes flicked over him with brutal efficiency, as if he didn’t live up to her standards. Nick had had enough of that crap in law school. The only standards he lived up to were his own.
Tanya continued to turn until the face of that boy—Bear, Nick corrected himself—was in view. His little eyes were at half-mast, with one thumb in his mouth and the other hand buried in the end of Tanya’s braid. He was cute, as far as babies went. His round face looked so much like Tanya’s, but Nick couldn’t see any of himself in the boy.
Something was wrong with that kid. Wasn’t hard to see that, or to notice Tanya’s hyperdefensiveness. The boy hadn’t whimpered, much less screamed, since Nick had opened that door. Sure, he’d opened his mouth, but no single noise had escaped his body. The only sound had been his banging on the door. That wasn’t natural, Nick knew, and it bothered him. If Bear was going to grow up to be a Lakota man, he had to have a voice. A man needed to be able to make himself heard.
He’d always liked the concept of kids. In the back of his mind, he’d always planned on having a few—three, at least—and having the perfect family life. For a long time, he’d envisioned Tanya beside him at the Thanksgiving table or snuggled up to him as the kids opened present after present on Christmas morning. Just like the Cosbys, only Lakota. True, his life in Chicago had put those plans so far on the back burner that they almost fell off, and he was sure Tanya wasn’t open to the idea. The problem was, none of the women he’d dated in Chicago were the least bit interested in having a big family. But he kept telling himself that as soon as he made partner, he’d slow down and settle in.
Nick knew that he would be a good father—the kind of man who went to his kid’s T-ball games and helped with science fair projects. All the stuff he’d missed out on as a kid. Nick’s own father had been long gone for years. True, Nick had turned out okay—thanks to Bill Cosby—but his little brother Jared hadn’t. Mom said he was getting clean in prison. Jared wasn’t the only member of the tribe who’d gone down that path. Nick knew it would break Tanya’s heart if the same thing happened to Bear. The boy needed a father.
Assuming, of course, Nick was the father. And if he wasn’t, where was the guy? Why wasn’t he here helping out? What kind of jerk knocked up a sweet, smart girl like Tanya Rattling Blanket and then left her high and dry?
The tightness that hit him midchest was as hard as any punch. Love at first sight, part of his brain noted, categorizing this new feeling and comparing it against all previous emotions. He’d never fallen in love at first sight. Lust, sure. He was a man after all. But this was different. He had no idea if Bear was his son or not—probably not—but all the same, he knew he loved the little guy.
Tanya eased off the bed and gave her son one last look before she turned to where Nick was standing. However, she didn’t meet his gaze as she tried to slide past him.
Nick wasn’t having any of that. He took hold of her arm and leaned down to whisper, “What’s wrong with him?” in her ear. The smell of her—now he could tell it was soft baby powder underneath lemons—hit him in the nose and collided with that tight-chest feeling until he was dizzy.
She jerked her head back enough to glare at him, but he saw past the pissed and noted how her lower lip had the slightest of trembles. He wanted nothing more than to kiss that lip until the rest of her was trembling in his arms, but he didn’t. That wasn’t why he’d come here. Although he was having a little trouble remembering his original motives at this exact moment in time.
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