the first rumor, but then a friend of Todd’s told her the same thing, and she knew it was true. The Spencers were wealthy and they could take her baby with a high-priced attorney, something she couldn’t afford. Her party-girl status was well-known. She wouldn’t be portrayed as mother of the year.
The last four years she’d been on the run, making sure the Spencers never found her. It wasn’t easy, but she had to keep Kira a secret from everyone, even her family at High Five.
As her father had said, all chicks come home to roost. She’d arrived at High Five at Christmas and decided to stay. Mainly because Maddie was getting married, and Sky was needed on the ranch. Besides, she was tired of living out of a suitcase. And Gran was right—Kira needed stability. She needed a home. That’s what Sky wanted for her child.
So here she was, back at High Five, and her father’s presence was all around her, from the land he’d loved, to his collection of fine wines in the parlor, to the cigars he kept hidden in the study. Home. Family. Dad.
He’d been furious when he found out about Kira, and disappointed in Sky and her choices. That hurt. However, he’d supported her decision to keep Kira away from the Spencers, and made sure she had the money to do it.
“Spitfire, someday you’re going to have to grow up and face this.” God, she thought of his words often.
The tomcat eased around her on the bale of hay. “Hey there, Tom. Are you going to keep me company? Everyone else is on my backside, and I might just have to admit they have a reason. It’s hell when that happens.”
The cat curled into a comfy position and Sky rose to her feet. What was she going to do about Cooper Yates? All the way to the house the question plagued her.
She’d never had a problem with men before. Not that it was something she was proud of, but getting them to fall over themselves for her came relatively easy. It was a talent she’d inherited from her mother. Why hadn’t Cooper been bowled over by her?
Motherhood. Since she’d become a mother, her life and views had changed drastically. Protecting Kira, keeping her safe and happy, was Sky’s top priority. She saw Cooper as a threat to Kira’s safety, and had acted accordingly.
Or was it more? Something about the way he’d looked at her when she’d first met him got to her. It was an I-don’t-like-you stare. She didn’t understand it, and at the time, she’d felt it was his problem, not hers. Now she wasn’t so sure.
CYBIL SPENCER WAITED impatiently as her husband talked on the phone.
“Well?” she demanded when he clicked off.
“Leo Garvey, the P.I., located the apartment Skylar Belle was renting in Tennessee.”
“Was she there?”
“No. She got wind he was asking questions and disappeared again.”
“We pay him a lot of money. Surely he can do a better job than this. It’s amateurish, and I’m tired of all this waiting.” She swept back her blond bob in irritation.
Jonathan poured a shot of bourbon and raised the glass toward her. “He managed to get in the apartment before it was cleaned.”
“And?”
“He found a child’s hairbrush with red hair on it behind a sofa cushion.” He took a swallow of the bourbon. “He’s sending it to a lab for DNA testing. Now he has to get a sample of Todd’s DNA, and then we’ll know if the child is a Spencer.”
“Pour me a gin and tonic. It’s time to celebrate. After all this time, that Belle bitch is going to get what’s coming to her.”
WHEN COOPER RODE INTO THE barn, it was late. Darkness had settled in and the dim lightbulbs hanging from the rafters did little to chase it away.
The dogs trotted behind him, breathing heavily. Ru had quit for the day long ago. After checking the herd, Coop had sat in the grass near Crooked Creek. This time of the year, the grass was green and thriving. The cows were knee-deep in it. The hayfields were also flourishing. After the fire, he’d worried about that, but now High Five was back on track.
It was good to know that Albert Harland, the man who had set the fires to the land and house, and had attempted to kill Cait, was now serving twenty years for the crimes. That didn’t erase the damages, though. Coop had to keep working so the ranch could overcome its losses.
For what?
To work with that woman?
Dismounting, he undid the saddle cinch, and with one hand swung the saddle over a sawhorse. The dogs lay down to rest. After leading the paint into the corral, Coop removed the bridle and slapped the horse’s rump. The animal cantered toward the feed trough.
As Coop reentered the barn, Ru came in from the other door with a covered plate in his hand.
“You just getting in, boy? I left you two hours ago.”
“Yep. I had some things I had to check.”
“Like what?” Ru held the plate high as the dogs jumped to reach it.
“Just stuff.”
“Miss Dorie’s a might upset you’re not eating at the house.”
Coop hooked the bridle on a nail. “So I heard.”
“C’mon, boy. Give Sky a chance.”
He took the plate. “I don’t give women like her chances.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Nothing. Thanks for the food.” He strolled away before Ru could grill him. The dogs followed, yapping all the way to the bunkhouse. Coop put the food on the counter, knowing he had to feed the dogs first. After being out most of the day, they were hungry.
He flipped on the front porch light and filled their bowls with a special mix of dog food he bought in Giddings. They gobbled it up, their short tails wagging. Australian blue-heelers, Boots, Bo and Booger were about the best friends he had besides Ru. They trusted him. They didn’t judge him.
Removing his hat, he walked into the house and placed it on a hook. Stretching his tired muscles, he felt the aches and pains of cowboying. At thirty-five he should have his own ranch, but that bastard had taken everything from him. Now he had a record, and it followed him everywhere he went like his shadow. It was a part of him.
Being angry didn’t help a thing. Coop knew that better than anyone. But when he was reminded of his past in surround sound and Technicolor, it was hard to remember.
Why did she have to come home?
With a sigh he headed to the kitchen sink, washed his hands, grabbed a fork out of a drawer and carried the plate to the table. He kept his mind blank. After years of practice, he had perfected that trait.
Tender roast, potatoes, green beans and homemade rolls—the mouthwatering aroma made his taste buds come alive. He was hungry. As he dug in, he knew he couldn’t keep making extra work for Etta. He had to bite the bullet and eat at the house as he’d done before.
As
