Montana Cowboy Daddy (Wyatt Brothers of Montana #3) - Jane Porter Page 0,36

to Erika to disappear on them now.

It was while being transported in the ambulance, and then rushed into surgery, brain cloudy with drugs and pain, he realized something about himself. He was full of bull. He acted like he didn’t have a care in the world, when he had many. He loved his mom profoundly, and his grandfather meant everything to him. His brothers were his best friends and he knew that if anything happened to him, the whole family would suffer. They would hurt, and he would never want them to grieve, not for him, or over him. He liked making his mom laugh. He enjoyed being one of her ‘bad boys,’ not because he was truly bad, but because it made her lips quirk, and her head shake, and yet even then, her eyes would light up with a secret, silent amusement.

But his family were adults, and his brothers were men. They could all fend for themselves. But Beck was just an infant, and he deserved better. He deserved more. Beck had already lost his mother. He shouldn’t lose his father.

It was his last thought before he went under the anesthesia, and the first thought when he began to come round in recovery. He was a dad now. He had to do better. Be better. Even groggy, his limbs so heavy he couldn’t move, Billy vowed to step up.

But when Erika visited with Beck later that evening, he didn’t know how to say any of this, not when his body throbbed, and his head ached, and he felt almost as helpless as Beck.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice raspy.

“Of course,” she answered, taking a step closer to the bed, the baby on her hip. “How do you feel?”

“How do I look?”

“Pretty rough.”

“Makes sense, because that’s how I feel.”

“That was so scary.”

“I’d like to see the film. It happened so fast.”

“Have you ever been hurt this badly before?”

“Oh sure, but not often. I’ve been lucky.”

She nodded, but she didn’t look reassured.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he added. “It’s one reason my mom wouldn’t watch us compete. She said it made her too nervous, what with all the things that could go wrong.”

“I totally relate.” Erika glanced around, and then looked back at him. “I have to use the restroom—”

“Again?” he teased.

It took her a moment to get the joke and then she shook her head, smiling. “You’re incorrigible.”

“That’s an awfully big word for a man with a concussion.” And then he nodded to the small bathroom in the corner of his room. “You could use mine.”

“They say not to.”

“It’s my restroom. The hospital will be billing me for it.”

“In that case, can I just leave Beck here with you? I left his car seat in the car, but I can slide him into your good arm.” And without waiting for a reply, she tucked the baby into the crook of his uninjured arm, adjusting his hand, with the IV, before disappearing into the bathroom.

When she emerged a few minutes later, he stopped her from taking Beck back. “It’s okay,” he said. “Leave him with me. It’s good to have him here.”

She stood uncertainly at his side. “Can I get you anything?”

“Double cheeseburger and fries?”

“Now?”

“Probably not now, but I’d love it if you brought me some tomorrow. And a vanilla shake. Large.”

Erika slowly smiled until even her eyes crinkled. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Billy paused. “And thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything.” He nodded down at the baby. “But most of all, finding me.”

Her smile wasn’t completely steady. “You mean that?”

“I do. Beck needs me. I realized earlier that if something happened to me there are others in the family who’d take care of Beck, just as my grandfather stepped in when my dad died. But I don’t want others raising my son. I want to raise him. I want to teach him all the things I wish my dad had taught me.”

Her expression changed, shadows flickering in her eyes before she managed a smile. “If you mean that, Beck will be the luckiest boy alive.”

*

Back at the hotel that evening Erika gave Beck his dinner and a bath and got him down to bed, but she remained restless and anxious and overly emotional.

She’d been so afraid when Billy had gotten hurt. She’d felt panic, but something else, something like pain. She’d hurt. She’d been afraid for him, but she’d also been afraid for herself, and that didn’t make sense. Why should she hurt? She barely knew him. And