The Cowboy's Secret Family. Judy Duarte
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Matt clicked his tongue. “Don’t you think that lying to her about me ought to throw him out of the running for Grandfather of the Year?”
“If she’d asked me, I would have been honest. I had no idea my father would tell her something like that. There was no reason for it. And it was way out of line.”
“Sounds like you finally learned to stand up to him.”
“I guess you could say that. But whenever I roll over, it’s out of respect, not fear.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My dad was strict and expected a lot out of me, but he’s a loving father and grandfather. I hope, one day, you’ll be able to see that.”
“Not gonna happen.”
She supposed it wouldn’t. Not for a long time, anyway.
“Does your old man know where you are?” Matt’s harsh tone and narrowed gaze shot right to the heart of her. And so did his question.
She sucked in a deep breath, hoping the oxygen would clear her head and cleanse her soul, then slowly let it out. “Not exactly, but he knows we’re safe. And that I’m staying with a friend.”
Matt arched a brow.
“Okay,” she admitted. “That could be considered a lie of omission. But believe it or not, I’ve always meant well and wanted the best for everyone involved.”
So why had she begun to feel like the villainess in this mess?
While tempted to make her way to the edge of Matt’s bed and sit beside him, she realized she’d have to earn the intimacy of his friendship. So she stood her ground and crossed her own arms. “I don’t blame you for being angry at my dad—and not just because he told Emily you were dead. When we were kids, you saw a bad side of him.”
“I don’t care about your old man or the past. What’s done is done.”
“Okay, but I’d like to make things right.”
Matt’s gaze softened slightly, but not enough for her to make any assumptions or to move toward him.
“Is that why you came to the Double G?” he asked.
Not really. And not at first. But the compulsion to finally make things right was why she was standing in his room now. “Yes, that’s pretty much why I’m here.”
He nodded, then glanced at the cane that rested within reach on the edge of the mattress where he sat.
She placed her hand on her womb, caressing the small baby bump that she wouldn’t be able to hide much longer with blousy tops and dresses. In fact, she’d suspected George already knew she was pregnant, since he was pretty observant. Not that he’d say anything.
When Matt looked up, she let her hand drop to her side and offered him a shy smile. “Like I said, I’m sorry. I should have told you that you were a father.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“I’ve made mistakes, but Emily isn’t one of them. She’s a great kid. So for now, let’s focus on her.”
“All right.” Matt uncrossed his arms and raked a hand through his hair. “But just for the record, I would’ve done anything in my power to take care of you and Emily.”
“I know.” And that’s why she’d walked away from him. Matt would have stood up to her father, challenged his threat, only to be knocked to his knees—and worse.
No, leaving town and cutting all ties with Matt was the only thing she could’ve done to protect him.
As she stood in the room where their daughter was conceived, as she studied the only man she’d ever loved, the memories crept up on her, the old feelings, too.
When she’d been sixteen, there’d been something about the fun-loving nineteen-year-old cowboy that had drawn her attention. And whatever it was continued to tug at her now. But she shook it off. Too many years had passed, too many tears had been shed.
Besides, an unwed, single mother who was expecting another man’s baby wouldn’t stand a chance with a champion bull rider who had his choice of pretty cowgirls. And she’d best not forget that.
“Aw, hell,” Matt said, as he ran a hand through his hair again and blew out a weary sigh. “Maybe you did Emily a favor by leaving when you did. Who knows what kind of father I would have made back then. Or even now.”
At that, Miranda longed to cross the room and take his hands in hers. The Matt she used to know would have been a great dad. And something told her the new Matt would be, too.
But he was a rodeo star now, with all the good and bad that came with it. So if he wanted to be a part of Emily’s life, what kind of role model would he be?
But that was beside the point. He deserved a chance to know his daughter.
“Matt,” she said, “I think you’re going to be an awesome father, if you want to be. Either way, I’m going to talk to Emily and tell her that her abuelito was mistaken, that her father is very much alive.”
“So you’re going to tell her that I’m her father?”
“Yes.” She eyed him carefully. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t.”
He didn’t respond right away. Was the decision that hard for him to make?
When he glanced up, his gaze seemed to zero in on hers. But this time, it wasn’t in anger. “I’d like to be there when you tell her. If that’s okay.”
She blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Of course. I think that would be best.”
For the first time since Matt arrived home, his expression grew familiar. Not completely, but enough to remind her of the old Matt and to stir up old feelings. But she’d better keep her wits about her—and her emotions in check.
“When should we tell her?” he asked.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
He nodded pensively. “Tomorrow, I guess.”
“Okay then.” She managed a smile. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Then she turned and let herself out of his room. The hard part was over.
Or was it?
It was one thing to think they’d be able to co-parent their daughter. But what about a child that wasn’t his? The future and the possible so-called family dynamics were worrisome at best.
And what about those sexy buckle bunnies who thought Max was God’s gift to womanhood?