Country Romance - Carolyne Aarsen Page 0,28

thinking.

"How many years has it been since you've lived on the ranch—I mean farm?" he asked, unwilling to stop their conversation. He felt like it had been ages since he’d talked with an adult in an adult manner. Ruby wasn't one for chit-chat and he never encouraged it.

"I left when I was eighteen. The usual country kid story. Couldn't wait to get to the big city."

"But I thought you said you lived in Whitehorse?"

"Which is big compared to Fairview," she countered. "I ended up there following some guy I thought would give me a happy ever after."

"I take it he didn't?" Wyatt poured the hot water into the mugs, shooting her a quick glance.

She was smiling. "No. I found out that only happens in Hallmark movies. Which I love, by the way."

"You don't need to defend them to me. I've watched a few from time to time. Gets pretty quiet in the evenings when the girls are in bed." And didn't that make him sound like a total loser?

"It's light and comfortable entertainment. I have to confess, I'm always sad when Christmas is over. I love a good Christmas romance."

He laughed at that, wondering about her romantic history. A woman as attractive as she was had to have had at least one boyfriend, besides the man she followed to Whitehorse. But he knew it would be inappropriate to ask.

Just then Dean wandered into the kitchen. He walked over to Adele and leaned against her, looking over at Wyatt, his expression serious.

"What's up, buddy?" she asked, fingering his hair back from his eyes.

But Dean didn't turn his intent gaze from Wyatt.

"So, are you really my daddy?" he asked, uncertainty tingeing his voice.

The question was like a gut punch. There was no way to answer it without either raising false hopes or looking like a heel. Wyatt shot a panicked glance to Adele, but she was looking down at Dean, her lips pressed together as if holding her emotions in check.

Once again frustration surged through him. How could the boy's mother have done this to him? How could she have planted this false hope? He thought of the DNA test now, hopefully, winging its way to Calgary. Exonerating him.

"I think you're a nice boy," was all Wyatt dared say, struggling to find the right words. Until he knew for sure, he hardly dared raise the little guy's hopes.

Dean laid his head against Adele, who had slipped her arm around him. "I miss my mommy," he said, his voice trembling.

Wyatt felt horrible. But what could he do? What could he say?

Tears slipped down Dean’s cheeks and he swiped at his nose. Adele reached over and grabbed a tissue from a box that hadn't been there before she had come. She’d thought of everything. She knelt down beside Dean, wiped his eyes, and handed the Kleenex to him for him to blow his nose. She gave him a tender hug, stroking his back.

"Honey, right now we have to wait for some...some stuff to come back. Some important papers." She bit her lip again, as if she knew her answer created more questions.

Dean sniffed again and Adele gave him another hug.

Watching her, Wyatt felt a shaft of bitter anger toward Theresa. Adele had more affection for a child that wasn't hers than Theresa had for her own biological daughters.

He knew Adele was here to bring Dean to him, but from the way she was interacting with the little guy, in the sympathetic glisten of moisture in her eyes, she wouldn't be able to walk away so easily. The thought gave some hope for the little boy’s future.

"My mommy said he'd be happy to see me," Dean sniffed, wiping his nose again. He looked up at Adele in question, as if looking for an answer from her.

"Oh, honey," Adele said, her voice breaking.

Wyatt could tell she was struggling, and he wished he could help her out.

Wyatt watched Dean, wishing, praying he could remember. But his brain was still fuzzy from the flu, and he was tired.

But Dean’s sorrow caught at his heart, and before he could tell himself otherwise, he got up, walked over, and knelt down beside him. He laid his hand on Dean’s shoulder, rubbing back and forth. "You're a sweet little boy," he said. "I'm sure your mother loved you very much."

Dean nodded, blinking as he stared at him.

As their eyes met, a memory trembled in the recesses of his brain, some sense of familiarity. Wyatt didn't know if he was projecting, but