Rancher's Baby

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Copyright

Dulcie Had Been Imagining Tye’s Body For Ten Long Months—

to have it thrown in her face first thing in the morning was simply too much.

He was oblivious to her presence in the doorway. He was talking to her baby, and she didn’t miss the rapt look on Ryan’s face at the sound of his father’s voice.

Deep inside her, a feeling of helplessness rose. Ryan had been hers alone for almost a year. Now everything was going to have to change….

Tye wanted—no, expected—her to marry him. He had to be crazy! They barely knew each other.

But a vivid image of just how well they did know each other arose in her mind….

Dear Reader,

This month, we begin HOLIDAY HONEYMOONS, a wonderful new cross-line continuity series written by two of your favorites—Merline Lovelace and Carole Buck. The series begins in October with Merline’s Halloween Honeymoon. Then, once a month right through February, look for holiday love stories by Merline and Carole—in Desire for November, Intimate Moments for December. back to Desire in January and concluding in Intimate Moments for Valentine’s Day. Sound confusing? It’s not—we’ll keep you posted as the series continues.and I personally guarantee that these books are keepers!

And there are other goodies in store for you. Don’t miss the fun as Cathie Linz’s delightful series THREE WEDDINGS AND A GIFT continues with Seducing Hunter. And Lass Small’s MAN OF THE MONTH, The Texas Blue Norther, is simply scrumptious.

Those of you who want an ultrasensuous love story need look no further than The Sex Test by Patty Salier. She’s part of our WOMEN TO WATCH program highlighting brand-new writers. Warning: this book is HOT!

Readers who can’t get enough of cowboys shouldn’t miss Anne Marie Winston’s Rancher’s Baby. And if you’re partial to a classic amnesia story (as I certainly am!), be sure to read Barbara McCauley’s delectable Midnight Bride.

And, as always, I’m here to listen to you—so don’t be afraid to write and tell me your thoughts about Desire!

Until next month,

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

Rancher’s Baby
Anne Marie Winston

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ANNE MARIE WINSTON

A native Pennsylvanian and former educator, Anne Marie is a book lover, an animal lover and always a teacher at heart. She and her husband have two daughters and a menagerie of four-footed family members. When she’s not parenting, writing or reading, she devotes her time to a variety of educational efforts in her community. Readers can write to Anne Marie at P.O. Box 302, Zullinger, PA 17272.

For Elise—

With XOXO & lotsa love to my small

but mighty Lisabetty belle

One

Tye Bradshaw squinted into the sun as the driver turned the four-wheel-drive pick-up truck off the highway. His head felt as if someone were playing a very large kettle drum just behind his eyes, and his broken finger throbbed.

The rancher who had offered to drop him off at the ranch maneuvered the truck between two stone pillars. They supported a black iron arch with a sign that proclaimed, Red Arrow Ranch, though for the life of him, Tye couldn’t see anything that looked vaguely like a house or a barn. As the truck followed an unpaved road that bisected a large, flat plain of scrub and dusty earth, all Tye could see were cattle in the distance, their outlines wavering in the heat of the day.

So this was the Kincaid spread. This was where he would find Dulcie.

Ever since the single night they’d shared, he’d been unable to forget her. His mood darkened as he recalled the way she’d skedaddled out of his apartment in the morning, mortified at herself and too embarrassed to look him in the eye. He’d intended to go after her, but then the phone rang…and here he was, almost a year later, hoping she would accept a belated apology.

His thoughts were shaken right out of his head when the truck lumbered over a particularly big rut and bounced up, down and up again with an agonizing jolt. He gritted his teeth against the pain and let the rancher’s off-key humming fill the silence until finally they crested a small rise. The Kincaid ranch buildings were spread out before them.

Despite his pain and discomfort, anticipation rose within him. Dulcie was here, probably in the big house that sat off to one side of the barns and corrals. The Good Samaritan drove right up to the yard that fronted the house. A black-and-white dog that looked like a cross between a border collie and a shepherd exploded from under the front porch, barking furiously just as the front door opened.

“Corky, go lie down!” A woman with long, loose dark hair streaming down her back came down the steps. The dog retreated to his hideout with a last snarl, but Tye hardly noticed.

Dulcie. His eyes took in every detail of her appearance. She looked the same, yet not the same. Something in him still responded to the mere sight of her…. Simple chemistry, he told himself. Her hair was longer and her eyes looked tired, strained. He thought she’d gained a little weight, too, though the few extra pounds didn’t look bad. When he’d known her in Albuquerque, she’d been almost too slender. Almost. His gaze lingered on her breasts, and he remembered how beautiful they’d been in his palms the night she’d come to him. His memory hadn’t done them justice, by the look of the full, soft mounds beneath her loose shirt.

“Hey, Zed.” Dulcie greeted the rancher through the open window of the truck. “What brings you back this way?”

“Got a delivery for you,” the man drawled.

Dulcie’s eyebrows rose and she cocked her head in question. “A delivery…?”

Tye opened his door and swung his legs to the ground, shouldering the duffel bag that was his only luggage. The landscape swam in front of him for a moment. He took a deep breath and rose, looking across the bed of the truck at the woman he came to see. “Hello, Dulcie.”

Her face drained of color and she took a step backward. “Tye? What are you doing here?”

“I came to visit you.” He walked around the truck toward her but stopped when she took another step back. She clearly wasn’t pleased to see him, and he was surprised at how bad that made him feel. He hadn’t known until just now how much he had counted on her welcome, her smile. What was the matter with her?

The door opened again while Dulcie stood staring at him as if he had two heads. Tye glanced beyond her at the blond woman emerging from the house.

“Hey, Angel,” Zed said from behind him. “I brought you a guest.”

“A guest?” The blonde looked surprised, but her face lit in a gracious smile as she walked toward him and extended her hand. “Hello, I’m Angel Kincaid. Welcome to the Red Arrow.”

Tye shook her hand. “Thank you. I’m Tye Bradshaw, a friend of Dulcie’s.”

The blonde turned to look curiously at Dulcie. “You didn’t tell me you were expecting anyone.”

“I wasn’t.” Dulcie’s voice was low and expressionless.

What the hell was wrong with her? She knew as well as he did that it wasn’t his fault that they’d been out of touch for so long. The pounding in his head was growing more and more insistent, and he knew from the times he’d been thrown by a horse and landed on his head that he’d better find a place to sit down before he passed clean out. “I wanted to surprise her,” he said to Angel as he moved slowly around the truck. “We were next-door neighbors in Albuquerque.” He was sweating with the effort it took to concentrate.

Angel frowned. “Are you well, Mr. Bradshaw?”

He attempted a smile. “I’ve been better. My car was broadsided by a pickup in Deming.”

“Doctor wanted to keep him, but he wouldn’t stay,” said the helpful rancher from behind him. Zed extended a sheet of paper to Dulcie, who automatically reached for it. “Instructions,” he said succinctly.

Dulcie heaved a sigh, apparently coming to some decision. “I guess you’ll have to come in.” She turned and began to lead the way to the house.

Tye followed her. He felt too lousy to ask her what her problem was. Later, when he felt better, he would tackle Dulcie.

As the rancher drove away, Angel followed them into the coolness of the house. All Tye could see of Dulcie was her rigid back, but he was aware of her silent disapproval every step of the way. He wondered if she was angry with him for leaving so abruptly after they’d. gotten together. He had tried to call her. He couldn’t help it if she had never returned his messages. If she had—What in hell was that noise?

A baby. He’d spent enough time around his two cousins’ families to recognize the sound of a baby squalling in outrage. His head pounded with each fresh shriek, and he put a hand to the wall to steady himself.

Dulcie gave a squeak of dismay. But it was Angel who darted ahead into the first room to the left, off the foyer they’d entered. The howling sound stopped abruptly. Tye stepped into what was obviously a living room to see Angel cradling a very small baby in her arms, gently patting its bottom and cooing at it. In the corner of the room, next to a massive timber-andstone fireplace, was a bassinet in which the baby must have been sleeping.

“That’s my little man. Did we go out and leave you all alone? You didn’t like that one bit, did you?” As Angel spoke, the baby gradually quieted.

“Sit down.” Dulcie pointed to a chair. Her voice was dull and devoid of warmth, her soft brown eyes unreadable.

He hesitated. He desperately wanted to talk to her, but the room was spinning around him and he couldn’t quite focus on her face.

When he didn’t immediately comply, she frowned. “You look like you’re about to keel over. Will you please sit down?”

He sat. She was right. But he had to get her alone. Before he could say anything, though, she lifted her head from the doctor’s instructions. “You have a concussion but you wouldn’t stay for observation?”

“No way.” He gingerly rolled his head in a negative motion against the high back of the chair where he’d collapsed. “I’ve had a concussion before. It’ll pass. If I could just lie down…?”

“In a minute,” she said. “You also broke your finger. Did you at least let them treat that?”

Well, she wasn’t fussing over him in quite the sympathetic way he’d imagined she might, but the note of concern in her voice could be taken as a positive sign. He hoped. “Yeah.” He held up the splinted digit for her inspection. “They can’t do much except straighten it out and wait for the bones to knit.”

Dulcie nodded. Then she asked, “Can your car be repaired?”

“I think so. They said something about the frame probably being…” He just couldn’t seem to retrieve the memory and instead fished a note out of his pocket, grimacing as the movement jarred his head. “They took it to this body shop and told me to call them tomorrow to see how long it will be.”

Dulcie took the note and scanned it. “I’ll call them later and tell them to put a rush on it. I guess you can stay here for a day or so until it’s done.”

So much for positive thinking.

“Dulcie!” Angel sounded rather startled, though she laughed to cover it. “We’ll extend our hospitality as long as you need it, Mr. Bradshaw. By the way. I’m Dulcie’s sister-in-law.”

“Thank you. And make it Tye.”

Angel had her hands full with the baby—it was squirming and squealing, banging its head against her chest repeatedly. “Are you getting hungry?” she said to the little one. “I’ll give you to—”

“Why don’t you change him before he eats?” Dulcie interrupted. “I’ll show Tye to a room and get him an ice pack for that finger.” To him, she said, “Follow me.” And before he could protest, she swung his duffel bag across her shoulder and marched out of the room.

He thought Angel looked a bit confused, but the expression passed so quickly that he couldn’t be sure. And the pounding in his head was growing worse by the second. Turning, he followed Dulcie up a staircase of pine and down a long, wide hallway flanked by at least half a dozen bedrooms. When she opened the door into a spacious guest room, he sank down immediately onto the handmade quilt that covered the big bed, with his booted feet dangling down over the edge.

With the same brisk efficiency the nurses at the hospital had shown earlier, she removed his boots and lifted his feet to the bed, all without uttering a word. Then she left him, to return a few moments later with an ice pack that he placed over his broken finger. It was swollen and rapidly turning an incredible shade of plum, but his head hurt too badly for it to bother him much.

“Get some rest,” she said, and in her voice he heard the first note of compassion he’d noticed yet. He tried to take her hand, but she placed herself out of reach in a too-casual movement that briefly infuriated him.

“I will,” he said, “and later we’re going to talk.”

She didn’t answer, just slipped from the room and left him alone.

Tye closed his eyes and drifted, finally sleeping for a while. At one point, Angel came in and roused him briefly, checking his pupils and then leaving him to sleep some more.

Sometime later, he awoke again. He started to lever himself upright, but a sharp wave of pain in his hand left him gasping for a moment. When his disorientation had subsided, he remembered where he was—and why. With interest, he looked around the room. For all he knew, Dulcie could have decorated this.

The room was sparsely but attractively furnished, with a large, double-door wardrobe and a comfort-able-looking chair made of pine the only furnishings other than the bed and adjacent table. A tall cactus in a ceramic pot stood in one corner, and painted deerskin pillows were piled on both the bed and the chair. On the bedside table was a stocky candle in a copper holder, and near it was a round clock face set into the carved shape of a buffalo. The clock read 5:12, so he figured he’d been resting for about two and a half hours.

His stomach growled loudly. Dinnertime would be soon and he realized he’d missed lunch completely. He’d probably been in X ray through the noon hour, though he hadn’t been aware of it at the time.

Thinking of the hospital reminded him of his physical state. He raised his hand and inspected the broken finger. Other than looking like a purple hot dog, it was fine. At least it didn’t hurt as much anymore. If he didn’t try to use it for anything.

Gingerly, he sat up, testing the state of his head as he pushed himself into a vertical position. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes but the blinding pain was gone. Mentally he thumbed his nose at the doctor from the emergency room. See? Told you I was fine. Growing up on a ranch makes a man tough. Got to be dead before I can be hospitalized.

Still, it wasn’t wise to push it too far, he thought. Prudently, he stuffed his toe into the top of one boot and dragged it toward him so that he could stomp into it without bending over. Then he repeated the process. Feeling pretty pleased with himself, he carefully rose, waiting for a mild wave of dizziness to pass before he walked out of the bedroom and headed for the staircase he dimly remembered coming up a few hours earlier.

What was Dulcie doing now? Recalling her behavior earlier, he realized that his chances of regaining her friendship—or anything else—were slim at this point. The idea didn’t set well. Only, of course, because he hated to be at odds with his friends.

He started down the hallway toward the steps he’d come up a few hours ago, intending to hunt her down and make her talk to him. A sound from the far end of the hallway caught his attention and he paused at the top step. Somewhere back there a woman was humming. And it sounded enough like Dulcie’s voice that he turned and retraced his steps, going past his bedroom and on down the hallway to the last door on the left.

The door was slightly ajar and the humming came from within. It was definitely Dulcie’s voice. He’d heard her hum while she’d made a meal for him one evening in Albuquerque. Elated at the opportunity to speak privately with her so soon, he put a hand against the door and pushed lightly.

The door swung open.

Dulcie sat in a rocking chair, gazing down at the baby in her arms. Her blouse hung open and the infant was suckling greedily at her exposed breast.

Shock tore through him. The child was hers!

He must have made some sound, because Dulcie’s head jerked up. A startled gasp escaped her, and her dark eyes widened to panicked proportions when she saw him standing there.

He couldn’t move. Wild thoughts were chasing through his brain faster than he could examine them all. Observations battered at his senses: the barely visible crown of the baby’s head covered in a down of dark hair…Dulcie’s arm tenderly cradling the tiny child…one little hand kneading his mother’s warm flesh as he suckled…

Finally, knowing he had questions that had to be answered, Tye took a deep breath and strode forward into the room where Dulcie and her baby sat.

His movement seemed to release her from stasis, as if she’d been frozen until then. She whipped a small blanket from the back of the rocking chair and draped it over her shoulder, arranging it to cover the nursing infant and her bare breast.

“What are you doing sneaking around like that?” Her face was as angry as her voice.

Dulcie’s harsh demand seemed to frighten the baby; Tye saw its little legs jerk spasmodically, and then the child began to cry. Immediately, Dulcie’s attention shifted. She drew the baby from beneath the blanket and cradled him in her arms, murmuring to him in low tones and gently patting his tiny back until gradually the infant quieted. After a moment, she placed him back under the blanket, frowning in concentration as she guided him to her breast.

The ease with which she handled the baby hammered home the truth that he was trying to deny, despite the clear evidence he’d seen. This baby really was Dulcie’s.

Tye was stunned. His head had begun to throb again. Who was this child’s father? At some point during those first days of getting to know each other in Albuquerque, he’d learned that Dulcie was separated from her husband, awaiting a divorce. At the time, Tye had thought Lyle Meadows must have been a blind man and a stupid one to boot.

But if the baby wasn’t Lyle’s…Despite the pain, his mind engaged in some rapid calculations. It had been almost exactly ten months ago that he and Dulcie had made love the first and only night they’d spent together. The same night that she’d discovered her husband’s infidelity. If she had conceived then, and if she’d carried the child to term, the baby should be somewhere around a month old.

Cautiously, he cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his dismay. “How old is he?”

Dulcie raised her chin and traded him stare for stare.

He’d remembered her as a quiet woman, soft and soothing, easily managed. There was nothing of those qualities in her now. He held her gaze, silently willing her to drop hers first.

She continued to look straight into his eyes. “My son is three weeks old.”

Three weeks old. The room swam around him again for a moment, but this time it wasn’t because his head hurt. Dismay and shock combined in a force that was nearly a physical sensation, sucking the breath from his chest. This was all his fault.

He’d taken advantage of her.

Ten months ago, Dulcie Meadows had been vulnerable and alone. She’d come to him for comfort and understanding. Oh, he’d been comforting, all right. And he’d been as understanding as could be. But if he’d been a true gentleman, he would have backed away. He wouldn’t have taken what she offered, would have realized that what she needed was a friend, not a horny fool like him.

Yet if he were completely honest, he was damned glad he wasn’t a gentleman on that single night with Dulcie. The only thing he really regretted was the way they had parted. He’d meant to go after her, to talk to her when she’d calmed down, but the phone call from his uncle had changed everything, and he’d had to rush off to Montana without settling things with Dulcie.

Telling himself that he’d tried to get in touch with her was little consolation. The whole time he’d been taking care of Uncle Ike’s ranch, he’d thought of her. He felt guilty and was determined to apologize.

That, of course, was what he’d made himself believe until now.

Until he’d seen her again.

But this…this wasn’t the way he’d expected their reunion to go.

Rage began to rise, both at himself and at Dulcie. What a fool he’d been. In all these months, he had never considered that there might have been consequences resulting from their night together.

Consequences. What a stupid euphemism. A baby was a darn sight more than a “consequence.” A baby was a huge, permanent obstacle in the simple path his life was following.

Why hadn’t she told him she was pregnant? One thing was clear: she sure hadn’t been thinking of him the way he’d constantly had her on his mind. God, if he hadn’t followed her down here, he still wouldn’t know that they’d created a baby together.

A baby. His baby. All his adult life he’d been careful to assume responsibility for birth control. until Dulcie. He’d vowed he would never have an illegitimate child, would never subject a child of his to the inevitable cruel taunts that would bring. All his life he’d been on the outside looking in at kids who belonged, kids who would never know bow the word “bastard” could slice through a child’s vulnerable heart. For he knew all too well how much that hurt.

And now he had a son who would bear the same stigma.

Dulcie sat frozen in the rocking chair, willing herself not to quail before the fury in Tye’s incredulous gaze.

He swore quietly, viciously, and she flinched despite her best efforts.

Finally, he stopped and just stared at her again. “He’s mine.”

She was supremely conscious of the slurping, grunting sounds her son made as he suckled. Tye must have heard him, too, because his gaze dropped momentarily to the outline of the baby’s body beneath the light throw she’d draped over herself. Superstitiously she crossed her fingers beneath the blanket.

“He’s not yours. He’s Lyle’s.”

“That’s bull and you know it.” Tye’s voice was rough and tight. “A blood test will prove it, too.”

“No!” She forced herself to mute the protest that escaped so that she wouldn’t upset the baby. “I’m telling you this is my husband’s child.”

Tye snorted. “Not likely, darlin’. I seem to recollect you telling me in no uncertain terms that your marriage bed hadn’t been used for anything besides sleep for a long time before I met you.”

Oh, she could just die. She remembered exactly when that conversation had taken place. And from the way Tye’s big body stilled and his nostrils flared, she knew he was recalling the same thing.

“Things happened after you left for Idaho—”

“Montana.” It was a snarl.

“Montana, then. Lyle and I resumed—”

“You’re lying. You expect me to believe you went back to that jerk after walking in on him in bed with another woman? I don’t think so.” The heavy scorn in his voice brought a rush of heat to her cheeks, but before she could formulate a response, he went on. “If it’s true, then I’m sure good ol’ Lyle won’t mind telling me about it. Shall I track him down and give him a call?”

The heat drained from her cheeks as suddenly as it came and left her cold. Freezing. “No.” She wanted to fight, to throw him out of her life, but she could see from the set look on his face that he wouldn’t go. Closing her eyes in defeat, she laid her head against the back of the rocker. “Lyle was killed in an automobile accident shortly after the divorce.”

Silence filled the room. When he didn’t answer, she opened her eyes.

He looked shocked, and for a moment she was meanly pleased to have knocked him off stride. But before she could congratulate herself too much, Tye recovered his voice.

“I’m sorry. That must have been a jolt even though you weren’t married any longer.” His tone grew steely. “Still, it doesn’t change anything, does it? That baby is mine and I’ll do whatever I have to to prove it.”

She didn’t know what else she could say, so she said nothing, just lowered her head and watched her son’s tiny feet flex as he tugged vigorously at her breast. Really, there was nothing more to say. If Tye forced the issue, he’d have no trouble finding out that he was indeed a father. She’d even listed him on the birth certificate.

Why had he come down here?

Even before she had learned of her pregnancy, she’d assumed she would never see him again. Truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to. Her behavior on the night she’d caught Lyle having sex with another woman wasn’t exactly something she wanted to recall.

She hadn’t planned on telling Tye he was going to be a father, honestly hadn’t thought he would want to know. In the few talks they had had about his photographic career, he had never hinted at any desire to settle down to family life. In fact, she distinctly remembered he’d said that bachelorhood suited him just fine. He’d been out of town half the time she had lived next to him. He was a wanderer, just like her husband had been. And she knew better than to expect anything from a wanderer.

Panic began to well up, clogging her throat with fear. What would happen now?

“Dulcie.” His voice interrupted her racing thoughts.

She looked up and was captured in the full intensity of his golden eyes. She’d forgotten how compelling his eyes were, how beautiful. His driver’s license called them hazel, but the word was only a pale description-”Is this our baby?” His words were quiet and plaintive, demanding honesty.

She swallowed, unable to look into those eyes and lie any longer. “Yes.”

A grimace twisted his face for a second.

It was gone so quickly that she couldn’t decipher it. Was he angry? Or had that been pain she’d glimpsed?

“Why didn’t you call me when you found out you were pregnant?” There was no accusation or demand in his voice, only bewilderment.

Dulcie shrugged, looking across the room at the copper-and-turquoise mobile that danced above the dressing table. “I didn’t know how to reach you,” she said.

Tye frowned and a small snort escaped him. “I slipped a note under your door with the number at my uncle’s ranch the morning I left. And I tried to call you, remember? Several times. Every time I did, I left the number.” He shook his head, looking at the baby as if he couldn’t fathom that it was real. “But you never called me back.”

Dulcie cleared her throat as she placed the baby against her shoulder and began to rub his back. “I, um, I didn’t keep your number.”

“You didn’t.” His words trailed off.

She saw the anger flare again, saw the conscious effort he made to overcome what she had to admit was a justified urge to shout at her. Why had she ever thought she could or should raise her son without at least giving his father the chance to know him?

“What’s his name?” Tye stepped closer and stretched out a finger, drawing back just before he caressed a tiny pink arm.

“Ryan.” Dulcie was mesmerized by those eyes again. Hadn’t she always been? Even when they’d just been friends, she’d been aware of his sex appeal. But now, it filled the room, making her supremely aware of the intimate bond they shared. “His name is Tyler Ryan Kincaid. I took my maiden name back after the divorce.”

The small twitch at the corner of his eye was the only sign he gave of his surprise, but his voice was deadly quiet when he spoke. “You named him after me, but you weren’t going to tell me about him?”