Montana Cowboy Daddy (Wyatt Brothers of Montana #3) - Jane Porter Page 0,7
to be suspicious? I’m supposed to believe whatever you say without any proof?”
“What do I gain by making false claims?”
He shrugged. “Money.”
Stunned, revolted, she stepped back, bumping hard into the mirror on the side of her car. “Wow. Did you really just say that?”
He shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Maybe you should keep your junk in your pants then—”
“I wasn’t talking about me.”
Her face burned hot but she held his icy-blue gaze, unable to remember when she was last so angry. “Please apologize to your grandfather, but I can’t stay. I have a room booked in town, at the Bramble House, and maybe after your dinner, you can spare me five minutes of your incredibly valuable time.”
“You make it very difficult to have a conversation with you.”
“Whereas you’re just not ever available for a conversation.”
“Can I just say that your hostility—” He broke off as two women came into view, walking up the road, one with dark brown hair and visibly pregnant carrying packages, while the other, a slim brunette in tight jeans and boots, held a cake stand with an extravagantly frosted birthday cake.
Erika felt the scrutiny of the women as they approached. Her chin notched up a fraction, even as her stomach did a flip-flop. She felt anxious and defensive and hated it. “That’s a beautiful cake,” she said, forcing a smile.
The woman carrying the cake nodded to the pregnant woman. “Sophie made it. She’s our resident baker.”
“Hope you’re staying to have some,” Sophie said. “We have plenty.” She gave the packages to Billy and extended her hand. “I’m Sophie Wyatt, Joe’s wife. Welcome to the Diamond W Ranch.”
“Erika Baylor,” Erika answered, grateful for Sophie’s friendliness. “I met your husband inside.” She looked at the cowgirl with the cake. “And probably yours?”
“Sam,” the cowgirl answered, one of her long braids slipping over her shoulder. “I’m Ivy Wyatt. We don’t live here, just visiting for the day. I’m going to get the cake inside, but please don’t rush away. Sophie and I love when we can add more girls to the mix. Balances out some of the intense male energy.” She started for the cabin and then paused. “Billy, bring Granddad’s presents in. Let Sophie have a moment with Erika while you and I set the table.”
Billy’s mouth open, closed. He glowered at Ivy, who simply arched an eyebrow, not at all intimidated. Erika was impressed. And not just with Ivy, but Sophie, too. Clearly these women knew how to handle their men.
Billy shot her an indecipherable look, before following Ivy up the porch and into the house.
As the door shut behind Billy, Sophie gave Erika a bright smile. “He can be charming.”
Erika couldn’t find it in her to smile back. “What have you heard, if anything?”
“That there was a possible Wyatt baby sighting.” Sophie patted her round stomach. “Other than this one.”
Heat rushed through Erika. “I didn’t say anything to the others—”
“You didn’t have to. According to Joe, he looks like a Wyatt baby.”
“What does a Wyatt baby look like?”
“Take a peek in the hall. There are framed photos of every Wyatt baby going back three generations.” Sophie gave her a curious look. “Unless Joe has it wrong?”
“I don’t think so.” Erika saw Sophie’s expression and added, “He’s my cousin’s baby, not mine, and she’s gone. I’m trying to find Beck’s dad.”
“And you think Beck’s dad is Billy?”
Erika nodded. “But then, I might have put two and two together and gotten five, which is why I’m here to ask Billy to take a DNA test.”
“Sounds fair.”
“Only my timing is terrible. I didn’t mean to crash Mr. Wyatt’s party, or to…” She swallowed hard, finding the words uncomfortable. “Or, take away from your baby—”
“You’re not taking away from my baby. He—or she—is snug as a bug here.” Sophie gave her tummy a little rub. “But it does seem like a long way to go to find Bill. He’s not here often.”
“I know, but one of the girls dating Tommy heard that Billy and Tommy would be at the family ranch this weekend, so I piled us in the car and headed north.” Erika glanced into the backseat of the car. “Billy’s hard to get alone. He almost always has… company.”
Sophie’s brown gaze glinted with humor, as well as something else. “He’s popular.”
She crossed to the open door of the car and peeked in at the sleeping baby. “You said his name is Beck?”
“Beck Wyatt Estes. He was born last November, right before Thanksgiving.”