Little Cowgirl on His Doorstep. DONNA ALWARD

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certainly didn’t trust her enough yet to know if it was all an act or not. For all he knew, Crystal was fine and dandy. Or maybe this was Avery’s kid and she was out to scam him for child support.

      For the first time since opening the door, he felt his lips curve slightly. If she was after bags of money she was barking up the wrong tree. He’d sunk every dime he had into buying this place and the milk quota that went along with it. All he wanted from life now was to be left alone. To live his life on this quiet section of land with the open space and some livestock for company.

      “Is something entertaining?” she asked, pursing her lips.

      “Not a bit,” he replied. “In fact, I don’t believe a single word out of your mouth. I suggest you turn around and head back to where you came from.”

      And if his conscience dug at him a little bit, he would just damn well ignore it.

      He stepped inside and shut the door in her face.

      Only when it was latched did he close his eyes. He pressed his forehead to the door and let out a long, unsteady breath. This was not happening. It was not. Yes, he’d had a fling over a year ago, but it had been a bad time for him. Jane had broken things off and given him back the ring, destroying his hopes for the future. He’d wanted to be anywhere but at a wedding, pretending to celebrate a happy-ever-after he no longer believed in. Crystal had been the perfect diversion. But surely Elizabeth would have mentioned if her maid of honor had ended up pregnant. Women were close like that, weren’t they?

      But then he remembered that after the wedding, Elizabeth had moved to Quebec with Pete, hundreds of kilometers away from Crystal Spencer. They’d only been married a few months when Pete—along with Callum and the rest of their section—had been deployed.

      Callum had been the only one of them to make it home. That fact still made his guts churn.

      Through the wood he heard the slam of her car door. She was going, then. It was just as well. Callum Shepard wasn’t anyone’s father.

      The sharp knock vibrated through his forehead and made him stand straight up. Not going. With a sigh he prepared to let her know in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t playing her game. He opened the door and…

      And stared, swallowing the words sitting on his tongue.

      Avery cradled a tiny bundle in her arms, a still-sleeping bundle, wrapped in a soft yellow knitted blanket with only her head poking out of the folds. Tiny lips were surrounded by plump cheeks; the tiniest button nose dotted the middle of her face and dark hair showing just a hint of curl peeked out from beneath a tiny pink-and-white bonnet.

      As much as he hated to admit it, it was hard to keep such a hard stance when the baby was right there in front of him rather than stashed away in a car.

      “Miss Spencer,” he began, more affected than he cared to admit, “I know what you’re doing. You’re playing the cute baby card.”

      “Is it working?”

      Avery’s clear blue eyes actually looked hopeful. Before they’d only held hostility and derision. She’d judged him for indulging in a brief affair with her sister. Why would she feel the need to do that if she were lying about him being the father? She was either telling the truth or she was an extraordinarily good liar.

      Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending how one looked at it—he been burned before. Burned badly enough that he didn’t trust himself to know the difference. No matter how much those extraordinary blue eyes implored him to believe her.

      “Cute or not, I’m going to need more proof than your say-so,” he answered. Yet he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the fringe of dark hair. Avery was blonde. Crystal had been blonde. The baby had dark brown hair, like his.

      Which proved absolutely nothing, he reminded himself.

      “Could we at least come in?” she asked softly. “It’s silly to be standing on your doorstep.” She fluttered her hand. “The mosquitoes are out and I don’t want Nell getting bit.”

      “Nell?”

      Avery nodded. “Short for Janell. It was the name of Crystal’s nurse at the hospital.”

      Something strange passed over Avery’s face as she said the words. Callum’s jaw tightened as he recognized the emotion. Pain. Grief. Lord knew he was familiar enough with them both. The longer this conversation went on, the more he was inclined to think she might be telling the truth.

      He wondered what had happened to Crystal. He’d barely known her, but he did have enough humanity left in his soul to feel sorry she was gone. And to feel sorry for Avery, who had clearly loved her.

      Reluctantly he stood back and pushed the door open. “Come on in, then. Don’t mind the mess.”

      She’d soon learn that he came just as he was. And that would have her leaving soon enough.

      Callum Shepard’s house was a disaster. Well, perhaps not a disaster, but it was clear it was a bachelor’s house and that he couldn’t be bothered with housework. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink, a basket piled with dirty clothes was left in the hall and bits of newspapers were scattered over what sparse furniture he had. “Sorry about the mess,” he offered again, but his voice was missing any sort of sincerity. He wasn’t sorry at all, she realized. And more than ever she was certain that she could leave Alberta and go back home to Ontario with a clear conscience after today. Nell certainly did not belong here.

      Along with the guilt came an intense wave of relief. Because while she’d felt all along that telling Callum about Nell was the right thing, it certainly wasn’t the easy thing. Growing up without a father had affected Avery profoundly and she didn’t want that for Nell. But telling Callum was risky, too. Crystal had named her guardian but a biological father could challenge that arrangement, couldn’t he?

      But Callum Shepard had no interest in being a father. That was as plain as the nose on her face. And Avery wanted to keep Nell with her for always. Setting the guidelines was the second reason she was here in Cadence Creek.

      She perched on a corner of the couch, the only space free of papers or random clothing that hadn’t been put away. With Nell tucked in the crook of her arm, she sat her purse on her knee and took out her wallet. “Here,” she said, handing out the plastic-covered card. “This is her birth certificate.”

      He took the card from her fingers and looked at it a moment before handing it back. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

      “You’re listed as the father.”

      “She could have put anyone’s name on there.”

      Indignation burned through Avery’s veins and she fought to keep her voice down. “But she didn’t put anyone’s name. She put yours. And you know the dates add up. Crystal wouldn’t lie about something like that.” She shifted a little. Truth was, Crystal had been going to leave it blank. One of the last conversations they’d had was when Avery had finally convinced her to name Callum as the father on record.

      He took a seat in a chair across from her and rested his elbows on his knees. “I beg your pardon because this is going to sound harsh, so let’s just get it out of the way, shall we? Yes, I had a weekend fling with your sister. But it wasn’t one-sided. She was just as willing

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