Montana Cowboy Daddy (Wyatt Brothers of Montana #3) - Jane Porter Page 0,5
his dad.”
He got up, walked to the sink, arms folded across his chest. “April told you this?”
“No. I’ve been digging through her things, trying to piece it together.”
“Then you’ve pieced it wrong. There’s no way the baby is mine.”
“You weren’t together in Tucson last year, for the rodeo?” Before he could answer, Erika added, “In case it’s hard to remember that far back, I found a photo album she made. If you’ll just hold him—” She rose and thrust the infant against his chest, leaving him there. “I’ll show you.”
Billy had instinctively wrapped an arm around the baby when she’d pushed the child toward him, and now he watched as she went to the table and dug a small photo book from her oversized purse. She marched back toward him and opened the little book, flipping through pages filled with photos and captions. He couldn’t read the captions but the photos were clearly of him and April. April looking sensational in snug jeans, boots, and a tight shirt. April in his cowboy hat. April with him, here at the fairgrounds. At a bar. At a restaurant. Kissing. Wrestling. Cuddling naked in bed. April wearing nothing but his hat.
He swallowed, glanced at the top of moon face’s bald head and asked, “When was he born?”
“November thirtieth.” The woman’s gaze met his. “He would have been conceived during last year’s Tucson rodeo.”
“She could have been already pregnant or gotten pregnant right after.”
“There was no one else in her life at the time. Just you.”
“How do you know?”
Erika froze, his question catching her off guard. Interesting. So she wasn’t as sure of herself as she thought. “April and I were not ever in a relationship. We just hooked up now and then.”
“That hooking up now and then still created your little bundle of joy.” Erika smiled, but it was a tight smile, and it didn’t reach her eyes. Her voice hardened, each word short, sharp. “And he needs his dad. He has no one else.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve temporarily been appointed a guardian, and I’d like to remain in his life, play the doting aunt, or whatever one would call me, but I’m not his mom, nor am I prepared to be, not when I’m single, a full-time grad student, unable to financially provide.”
“I’m sorry. What is your name again?”
“Erika.”
“Listen, Erika, I don’t think he’s mine, but, if he was, I would, of course, financially provide for him, but I live on the road. I live out of a trailer. My life is spent in parking lots of fairgrounds across the country—”
“Then you might need to make some changes to your life. Your son needs you.”
“I just found out five minutes ago I might have a kid, and now you’re telling me to drop everything?”
“I had to when they called and said April was gone, and the baby isn’t even mine. Beck is yours—”
“I think you assume too much.”
“Then let’s just get the test done, and we’ll have the answer you need.”
She nodded at the baby beginning to squirm against his chest. “And the answer he needs, too.”
“Erika, it’s my granddad’s birthday today and I’m only home for a few days. We can’t do this here and now. Not in front of my family. It’s not fair to them—”
“What about Beck?”
“He has no idea what we’re discussing.”
“So you’re not going to introduce him to your family?”
“No. Not until we know, and there’s no way to know definitely now. Tomorrow I’m back on the road, heading to Idaho and then Oregon and I’ll find a place to take a paternity test this week. I’m sure there’s somewhere I could hit on the way, but until we have paternity squared away, I’m not going to turn myself inside out, or put my family through unnecessary drama, not without proof that that baby is mine.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t believe April.” He returned the baby to her, carefully, but firmly. “I can promise you I wasn’t the only one she was seeing. April told me about some of the others.”
Her jaw dropped. She adjusted Beck in her arms. “Why would she do that?”
He shrugged. “Make me jealous.”
“Did it work?”
“I feel like we’re going down the wrong path with this conversation, so I’m going to walk you to your car, see you off, and we can talk more tomorrow.”
“Once you’re on the road.”
“Yes.”
“You’re running away.”
“No, not running away. But I can promise you one thing, we’re not going to continue this here, now—” Billy broke off as the