Part 12 (2/2)

Bobby released an audible breath. ”Yes, he knew. But he didn't have anything to do with Michael.Cam wasn't the dad type.” He paused, set his coffee on a small wooden table near his chair. ”It wasn't an easy time. My brother was already gone and I was faced with a dying woman and a rebellious teenager.”

”Did Michael's mother ask you to take care of him?”

He nodded. ”She knew she was dying and she didn't have any family left. If I hadn't stepped in, Michael would have been orphaned. He would have ended up in a foster home somewhere.”

Julianne glanced at her ice cream, noticed it melting in her bowl. ”You keep inheriting children, don't you?”

”So it seems.” He looked at her tummy, smiled a little. ”But I made the one you're carrying.”

Yes, she thought. He'd planted the gift in her womb, the baby she'd always dreamed about.

For a while they remained quiet. Julianne sighed and the sound melded with the moment, with the gra.s.s and the trees and the tall, leafy flowers.

”What was her name?” she asked.

”Who?”

”Michael's mother.”

”Celeste.”

”Was she pretty?”

”She was ill when I met her. Pale and thin.”

Suddenly, Julianne's heart went out to the woman who'd died, the woman who'd asked Bobby to raise her son. ”Was she in love with your bother?”

Bobby reached for his coffee. ”I don't know. She metCamat the diner where she worked. And whenever he was on his way to a rodeo in this area, he would spend the night at her house. But after she told him she was pregnant, he never came back.”

Julianne imagined Celeste with blond hair and blue eyes, with a smile that had turned sad. ”She must have been so lonely, waiting for him to return. Hoping and praying he would he a father to their baby.”

Bobby frowned into his cup and she realized her words had hit too close to home.

She couldn't take them back, so she just sat, stirring her melting ice cream.

”I'm sorry if I made you feel bad earlier,” he said. ”I wasn't very nice about our baby when you first told me, but I was nervous. I guess I still am.”

”Me, too,” she admitted.

He lifted his gaze. ”I never imagined being in this position.”

She understood what he meant. He'd never imagined having a child with a woman he barely knew.

She wondered if he had intended to have children with his wife, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. Not

after she'd rummaged through his cabin, looking for a photograph of the woman he'd married.

For now, it was easier talking about Celeste, focusing on her tragic tale instead of picturing Bobby with his wife. ”Does Michael still live in his mother's old farmhouse?” ”Yes, he does. You can see it from this hill.” ”I don't recall seeing a house from here.” He pointed to a copse of trees. ”It's that way, through the oaks. Come on, I'll show you.” He reached for her hand and when their fingers connected, her skin tingled. Suddenly she felt warm and alive, as if the sun had slid through her body and into her veins. They walked across the gra.s.s and he guided her through a maze of old, gnarled trees. He released her hand, but the heat remained. They stopped near the edge of the hill and in the valley below, a patriotic spray of blue flowers led to a red-and-white farmhouse. Now Julianne would envision Bobby there tonight, while she was here, at his sequestered cabin. How many nights since they'd made love had she thought of him? Dreamed of him? Stripped off her clothes and relived his touch, his taste, his scent? The o.r.g.a.s.m he'd given her. ”I'm fromOklahoma,” he said.

She blinked, tried to grasp his words. ”I'm sorry? What?”

”You asked earlier ifCamand I grew up around here. I told you this was Michael's homeland, but I never mentioned whereCamand I spent our childhood.”

His statement settled in her brain. ”Oklahoma.”

He nodded.

”Were you happy there?”

”As happy as any poor Indian kid could be.” She thought about the Cherokee rose, about the legend of his ancestors. ”How did you build this ranch, Bobby? How did a poor Indian kid end up with all of this?

Did you make it big in the rodeo?”

”I did all right. Better than most,” he added. ”But quite honestly, rodeo cowboys earn considerably less than other professional athletes, so I lived modestly and invested just about everything I made. I have a natural talent for finance, I suppose. Eventually I was able to buy income property. Not here, but in Oklahoma. By the time I was thirty, I owned quite a few apartment buildings.”

”And you sold them to buy Elk Ridge?”

”Yes, but in spite of my financial success, I wasn't ready to retire. I loved the rodeo.” He shrugged, brus.h.i.+ng away his past. ”But I had a nephew toraise and I couldn't take him on the road with me. Michael needed roots. And these hills were his heart, his home.”

”Is that why you decided to build a guest ranch?”

”Yes, but the concept wasn't my idea. Celeste had weaned Michael on it. The whole kit and caboodle had been their dream.” The wind blew, rustling leaves on trees, sending a few falling to the ground. ”So eventually, it became mine, too.”

He gazed out at the red-and-white farmhouse. ”Michael didn't see me as his savior, though. He resented me for everything. For beingCam's brother, for trying to make him respect his heritage, for disciplininghim after his mother died. That kid was a serious pain in the a.s.s.”

Julianne couldn't help but laugh. Bobby laughed, too, and the sound rose like a song.

Suddenly she wanted to kiss him, to press her mouth to his, to unbraid his hair and let it flow through her fingers.

”I should get you back to the cabin,” he said. ”It'll be dark soon.”

She looked at him in the waning light. This man who'd made her pregnant. Little by little, she was learning bits and pieces about him.

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