The Texan's Contract Marriage - By Sara Orwig Page 0,1
but Kern would have told me. I’m sorry, I find this difficult to believe. It could be a coincidence he looks like my brother. How old is this child?”
“He’s six months old now. Noah was born October 4, last year.”
“Six months old,” Marek repeated, dazed. He stared at the picture in disbelief, an icy chill setting in as he wondered if this was a play for money. “Kern never said a word about knowing you. He would have said something to me.”
“We met at a New Year’s Eve party over a year ago,” she said in her silky soprano voice. “Kern charmed me. We had mutual friends, so I felt safe leaving with him. It was an exception in my very structured life—two nights of passion that I’d never had before and never since. We used protection, but I still got pregnant. I’ve managed to keep the publicity low-key. It hasn’t been difficult to keep the baby out of the spotlight. An opera performer—at least at my current level—is not the same as a movie star. I have only recently had more success and more fame.”
“I find it difficult to believe this baby really is Kern’s.”
“He is. You can have a paternity test. The DNA should give you an answer.”
Marek could not stop looking at the picture of the baby. “What’s his name?”
“Noah Avanole.”
“I’m still amazed Kern didn’t tell me.”
“He said he was going to tell you, but he probably never had the chance.”
“You’re right.” Unable to sit still, Marek stood and walked to the window to stare at the picture while questions raced through his thoughts. “Kern had a baby. How long before the flight did he know?” Marek asked.
“The evening before he left I told Kern I was pregnant, so he didn’t know until the day before the plane crash.”
Marek drew a deep breath. “Was this on his mind when he flew to Denver?”
“I’m sure it was,” she answered.
Marek felt as if he had had another blow. A year ago in March, his brother had had a flight to a horse sale in Kansas City. Marek had intended to fly to Denver to pick up his fiancée, who had been there for a wedding. Instead, Kern had offered to pick her up after leaving Kansas City. On the way home they had been caught in an unexpected storm. When the plane had crashed, both had been killed. Now he wondered how much his brother’s thoughts and attention had been distracted by the news from Camille. Marek continued staring at the baby’s picture. He remembered Camille and turned to find her sitting quietly.
“Thank you for telling me,” Marek said, crossing the room. “I’ll think about the paternity test. Since you’re telling me now, I assume you want me to do something. We might as well get to the point of this meeting.”
“I’ve had time to think about this. I can support Noah. What I want is for Noah to know the Rangels. Kern was such a cowboy. I want Noah to have an appreciation for ranching, so he will understand his father better. I think he should know his father’s family.”
Marek had received one surprise after another. If she really didn’t want money, he would be shocked. He figured this was a ploy to get him to let down his guard.
“I’ll have to think about this and talk to my attorney.”
She smiled. “I hope you don’t need an attorney. I felt you should know, and there was no good way to tell you on the phone or by email. Even in person, it’s a shock. But what’s done is done.”
“The crash was a year ago last month. Why did you wait until now to tell me?”
“I was busy caring for Noah and undecided what to do. I was away from Dallas, and I wanted to tell you in person. I knew I would be back. Also, it’s given me time to really think this through. You could help by being a father figure for your nephew, too.”
Marek drew a deep breath at the thought of the responsibility she wanted him to take. Yet if this baby was Kern’s, a part of Kern, Marek wanted to know him and watch him grow up. A part of Kern—the thought twisted his insides. He looked at the picture again. Why hadn’t Kern told him? He probably had planned to when he returned from the flight.
“Kern never knew this baby. You’ll take good care of him. Maybe it would be better if I