A Baby For The Rancher. Margaret Daley
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Her gaze swept from one twin to the other. Maybe the boys knew where Betsy was. She needed to talk to them without their father. Anytime the conversation turned to Mac or Betsy, Byron went off on one of his heated outbursts.
Byron nodded at his sons, then turned to her and said, “Think about when you run for sheriff next year. Do you want me as a supporter or an enemy?”
“Dad, we’ve got a lot of work to do tonight,” Gareth said in an angry tone, then marched toward Byron’s vehicle across the street.
Lucy watched Winston and Byron follow a few yards behind Gareth; the middle-aged man was still ranting about the situation to Winston, whose shoulders slumped more with each step he took. Did those twins have a chance with Byron as their father? They were popular, but stories of them bullying had circulated; unfortunately, nothing she could pursue. It wouldn’t surprise her because Byron was the biggest bully in the county.
With long strides Lucy headed again for Maggie’s Coffee Shop. She needed a double shot of caffeine because she would be spending hours tonight going over all the evidence to see if she’d missed anything.
* * *
Ben Stillwater sank into the chair on the back porch of his house at his ranch near Little Horn. He cupped his mug and brought it to his lips. The warm coffee chased away a chill in his body caused by the wind. To the east the sun had risen enough that its brightness erased the streaks of orange and pink from half an hour ago.
Ben released a long breath—his first day back to work after his riding accident that had led to a stroke caused by a head injury at the end of October. He had gone into a coma, then when he had woken up, he’d faced a long road with rehabilitation. The accident seemed an eternity ago. He’d just discovered a baby on his doorstep, and he’d been on his way to Carson Thorn’s house to figure out what to do when his world had changed. He couldn’t believe months had been taken from him. An emptiness settled in his gut. He wasn’t the same man.
So much has changed.
I have a son. Cody.
But who is Cody’s mother?
He was ashamed he didn’t know for sure. His life before the injury had been reckless, with him always looking for fun. Was the Lord giving him a second chance?
When he had come out of the coma, he didn’t remember what had prompted him to go see his neighbor that day of the accident, a trip he’d never completed because his horse had thrown him and he’d hit his head on a rock. But lately he’d begun to recall the details. Finding the baby on his front doorstep. Holding the crying child. Reading the note pinned to the blue blanket with Cody’s name on it. Your baby, your turn.
Grandma Mamie had told him in the hospital the DNA test had come back saying Cody was a Stillwater, which meant either he was the father or his twin brother, Grady, was, and Grady knew the baby wasn’t his. The news had stunned him.
That leaves me. I’m a father.
He’d known it when Grady and Grandma had brought Cody to the hospital to meet him. In his gut he’d felt a connection to the baby.
Grady had gone into town, but the second he was back they needed to talk finally. One last time he had to make sure his twin brother wasn’t Cody’s father before Ben became so emotionally attached to the baby he couldn’t let him go. And if Grady wasn’t Cody’s father, then that brought Ben back to the question: Who was Cody’s mother? He should know that.
He sipped his coffee and thought back to seventeen months ago. He’d been wild before his riding accident. He’d worked hard, and he’d played hard. Not anymore. He had a little baby to think of. Lying in that hospital, piecing his life back together, he’d come to the conclusion he couldn’t continue as he had before, especially because of Cody.
The back door creaked open, and Ben glanced toward it. Grady emerged onto the porch with a mug in his hand. Although they were identical twins, when Ben had stared at himself in the mirror before he’d shaved this morning, he’d seen a pasty-white complexion that had lost all its tan since he was in the hospital. His features were leaner, almost gaunt. A shadow of the man moving toward him with a serious expression, his dark brown eyes full of concern.
“I’m not sure I want to ask what’s wrong,” Ben said as Grady folded his long body into the chair across from him.
“Grandma said you were talking to her about Cody and his parentage. Are you having doubts you’re Cody’s father?”
“Are you?”
“No,” Grady said in a forceful tone.
“I didn’t really think it was your child.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re the serious twin. You’re the one who does the right thing. I’m the rogue of the family. Everyone knows that. I was wondering more about who is Cody’s mother. Sadly I don’t know for sure. There’s more than one woman it could be.” Ben shrugged, then set his mug on the wicker end table near him. “Grandma said you had a letter for me.”
Grady frowned. “She wasn’t supposed to say anything. I was.”
“I think y’all have waited long enough. I’ve been awake for weeks.”
“Trying to recuperate from a stroke and head trauma. I didn’t want to add to the problems you were facing with rehabilitation.”
“I’m not fragile. I won’t break, and I don’t need protecting.”
His twin started laughing. “You must be getting better. You’re getting feisty and difficult.” Grady reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope with Ben’s name on it. “This is for you.”
“Where did you get it?”
“The sheriff gave it to me for you.”
“Lucy Benson? Where did she find it?” Why didn’t she say anything to him the other day when they met in town? He intended to ask her that when he saw her.
“She found it on the front seat of a car involved in a wreck. The driver, Alana Peterson, died. There were also several bags with baby items in them on the floor.”
Cody’s mother was Alana? Ben had liked her and had had a lot of fun with her, but there had never been anything serious enough to lead to a marriage. He had a lot of mistakes to answer for. “When did this happen?”
“A week ago.”
“You’re just now getting around to it?”
“Yes.” Handing the letter to Ben, Grady pinned his dark eyes on him and didn’t look away.
Ben snatched it from his grasp but didn’t open the envelope. If this was from Cody’s mother, he would read it in private.
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
“Later,” Ben said while gritting his teeth.
“I know this is a lot to take in after all that has happened—is happening—but Chloe won’t always be