suppose that would be the logical thing to do. That way his parentage would never be in doubt,” Finn said with slow thoughtfulness. “I just wish it wasn’t necessary. I don’t want Harry to grow up and learn that the identity of his father was ever in question.”
Forgetting her task, she walked over and placed a hand on Harry’s back. “I don’t necessarily want that for him, either. But I want him to have the ‘right’ father.”
He slanted her a wry look. “Don’t you mean you want him to have the right ‘parent’?”
Her long black lashes lowered and partially hid the thoughts flickering in her gray eyes.
“What do you mean?”
The threads of his patience were quickly snapping. “Don’t act clueless. You want to keep Harry for yourself. You’re hoping like hell that I won’t be the father.”
Her mouth fell open. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. I can see it all over your face. Hear it in your voice.”
Shaking her head, she turned her back to him. “If that were true, then why did I call you? I didn’t have to, you know,” she said, her voice heavy with resentment. “I could’ve kept Harry all to myself.”
He instinctively cradled the baby closer to his chest. “Yeah, you could’ve left me in the dark. But then you couldn’t have lived with your conscience. Or with Harry, once he grew old enough to start asking about his father. You’d have to make up a lie to tell him why you didn’t make an effort to contact me. Then one lie starts leading to another. You’re not that kind of woman. The kind that can live on a bed of lies.”
She whirled around to face him and Finn was struck by the moisture collecting in her eyes. He didn’t want to hurt this black-haired beauty. She’d already been hurt enough. But she needed to understand that he wasn’t a fool. Or at the mercy of her wants and wishes.
“You don’t know what kind of person I am! We’ve only just met.” A sneer twisted her lips as she raked a disapproving gaze over him. “But then I need to remember you jumped into bed with Aimee right after you met her. I suppose you thought you knew her, too!”
His jaw tight, he said, “Your crude observations don’t embarrass me, Mariah. But they do have me wondering. Maybe you’d like an invitation into my bed.”
Her eyes widened with disbelief, then turned to cold steel. “That’s the most insulting, despicable thing I’ve ever heard!”
“Is it?” he asked softly.
A scarlet blush crept over her face. “Look, Mr. Calhoun, the only thing you need to concern yourself with is the result of Harry’s DNA test. And the faster we can get those done, the happier I’ll be!”
Finn watched Mariah stalk to the opposite end of the kitchen and thump a pair of empty mugs onto a plastic tray. He’d never spoken that way to any woman before and he wasn’t quite sure what had prompted such a thing to come out of his mouth. Except that ever since he’d arrived on this ranch, she’d been subtly goading him. As though she considered it okay for her to judge him as a cad for having a romantic interlude with Aimee. As if she were infallible and would never stoop to such human impulses.
With a heavy sigh, he rose to his feet and walked over to where she was pulling a baby bottle filled with formula from the refrigerator. After giving him a cursory glance, she shut the door on the appliance and moved over to a microwave. Finn felt compelled to follow.
“I’m sorry, Mariah,” he told her. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. I was way out of line.”
While the microwave whirred, she kept her back to him. It wasn’t until the bell dinged that she retrieved the bottle, then turned to face him.
“Then why did you say it?” she asked stiffly.
The icy stare she’d stabbed him with earlier was gone. Now her gray eyes were dark with shadows, and Finn realized his question had touched far more than just her female pride. The notion made him feel even worse.
“Because you seemed set on judging me for spending a weekend with Aimee. That’s not— Well, for your information, I don’t go around having affairs, short or long, on a regular basis! Yet you want to make me out as a cad. What’s the matter with you? Are you a prude or something?”
Outrage popped her mouth open and Finn expected her to flounce off in huff. But after a moment, her shoulders sagged and she glanced away. “Making a baby is a serious thing,” she murmured.
She was avoiding his question, but he was hardly going to point that out to her now, Finn decided. Besides, he had the feeling that before this ordeal with Harry was finished, he was going to find out plenty about Mariah Montgomery.
“That’s why I’m here,” he said curtly. “Because there is a baby. A baby who’s lost his mother.”
She reached for Harry then, but Finn continued to hold him firmly against his chest. “Give me the bottle. I’d like to feed my son.”
Her chin came up to a challenging angle. “It’s yet to be determined whether Harry is your child, Mr. Calhoun.”
“You decided that. I didn’t. I agreed to a DNA test because you wanted one and my family back home wants one. But as far as I’m concerned, Harry has Calhoun blood running through his veins. And by the way,” he added, “call me Finn. When you say Mr. Calhoun you make me think you’re addressing my grandfather.”
“All right, Finn. I guess I should appreciate your frankness. At least I’m not in the dark about where you stand with Harry.”
She handed him the bottle. Finn carried it and the baby back over to the breakfast bar. After he’d taken a seat on one of the stools, he cradled Harry in a comfortable position in the crook of his left arm and offered him the warm bottle.
“Here’s your dinner, little one,” he told the baby. “Go for it.”
The infant latched onto the nipple with a hunger that brought a faint smile to Finn’s lips. Oh, what a stir this little guy was going to make on the Silver Horn, he thought. Especially with his grandfather Bart, who was all for the expansion of the Calhoun family.
He looked up as Mariah approached the bar carrying a tray with the coffee and containers of cream and sugar. As she placed it a safe distance from his elbow, she asked, “Would you like cream or sugar? Since you have your hands full, I can fix it for you.”
“Just black. Thanks,” he said, grateful that she was being somewhat hospitable. Especially after that sexual taunt about inviting her into his bed. No telling what she was thinking about him now. Her impression of him had most likely slipped from cad to pervert. But why her opinion of him should matter, he didn’t know. Except that something about Mariah Montgomery got under his skin. He wanted to see approval in her eyes and a smile on those lovely lips.
Cradling one of the mugs with both hands, she stood a couple of steps away, watching Harry feed. After a long stretch of silence, she asked, “Where did a bachelor like you learn how to feed a baby?”
