Cowboy Daddy

This time Wyatt stopped at the nurses’ station and the cheery nurse who’d helped earlier followed to assist her back into the bed.

The two men waited outside, and she hoped they’d stay out. Amanda heard deep voices and prayed they weren’t arguing or worse.

“You up for guests, or should I shoo those two away?” The nurse smiled and waited for her decision.

“I’d love to tell them to go away, but they’ll just hang around regardless.” Amanda snuggled down against the firm, crinkly pillows. “Might as well get it over with,” she whispered and closed her eyes.

“It’s your choice.” The nurse gave her one more escape option, and she almost took it.

“No. They’ll freak. It’s okay, I don’t back down often.”

“Okay.” As the nurse left, she propped the door open. “You have ten minutes, boys, then it’s lights out.” The nurse made the right decision for her, and Amanda smiled.

Amanda didn’t open her eyes, so she didn’t know who came in first. It didn’t matter. She could feel their equally angry stares. Her brother’s glare would condemn her for sleeping with one of his crew. She’d heard plenty from him over the years about staying away from them. And she’d most definitely hear plenty more of it from all her brothers, now.

Lane’s stare was less clear in her mind. Would it be angry, hurt, condemning? She hadn’t told him, or anyone else, that he was Lucas’s father. Now everyone probably knew.

Slowly, she opened her eyes to a feeling of disappointment. Lane was staring out the window at the city beyond. She couldn’t see his face, but his back was ramrod straight with his shoulders thrown back, broad and strong. Wyatt stood at the foot of her bed, looking exactly as she’d expected, and she only briefly met his gaze before glancing at Lane again.

She wanted him to turn and face her. She almost wished he’d lose that famous temper of his and let her have it. Maybe her guilt would ease if he did. “I never meant to lie to you.” She waited a second. “Either of you.”

“And yet you did.” Lane still didn’t turn around.

“Watch it, Lane.” Wyatt’s voice was a low, protective growl. “You are far from innocent in this.”

“Leave him alone, Wyatt,” she whispered. Once again, she looked at her brother. “I need to talk to Lane. Alone.”

Wyatt didn’t want to leave. She saw the stubbornness in the set of his jaw. “I’ll be right outside.”

“Down the hall,” she directed. “No eavesdropping.”

* * *

THE LIGHTS IN Mandy’s hospital room were low, letting the shadows take over. On the long, five-hour drive, Lane hadn’t pictured anything he’d seen when he got here. None of this was part of his normal world, or what he’d expected when he’d woke up in his truck this morning.

Staring out the window, he watched the reflection rather than the city beyond.

The bed, centered in the room, was metal with white sheets that looked stark against the evening light. Mandy, in a soft blue gown, looked tiny in the bed. Her dark hair tumbled across a snow-white pillowcase that echoed the pallor of her skin.

The clear tubing of the IV snaked, from where it was imbedded in her arm, across the blanket and up to the hanging bag. What had Addie said about the transfusion? He envisioned the tubing filled with life-giving blood.

He swallowed hard, easing the fear that still gripped him. He’d never before thought about losing her like that, forever. Never expected—

Wyatt stepped back reluctantly, and Lane knew he was weighing Mandy’s wishes against his own concerns. He knew why Lane was here, and he wanted to know the rest. But Lane wasn’t here to talk to Wyatt.

Wyatt’s receding footsteps were the only indication he’d left.

Finally, with a deep breath, Lane turned to face Mandy. She hadn’t moved, but her eyes were open, looking groggily at him. Even in the dimness, the bright blue of her eyes reflected her thoughts. If anyone wore their emotions on their sleeve, it was Mandy Hawkins. He could read her like a book.

Their gazes met. “How you feeling?” Lane took a couple of slow steps toward the bed. His boots sounded too loud in the quiet room.

“Worn out.” She tried to smile, but didn’t move. “Why are you here?” Her voice shook. Were those tears in her eyes? She knew his answer, but was waiting for him to say it, to ask her...

If Wyatt hadn’t been standing in the hallway, Lane would have walked to the bed and taken her hand, and—what? Cursed at her? Kissed her? He had no clue, and that bothered him. Lane never allowed himself to second-guess anything.

“I can do math, Mandy,” he whispered.

“I never doubted that.” She met his gaze, her chin pale but jutting out stubbornly.

“So, why didn’t you tell me?”

She hesitated, something he seldom saw her do. He waited, knowing she was organizing her thoughts. “I tried. That night. At the Lucky Chance.”

Memories slammed into him. As their gazes remained locked, the blue that never wavered brought back the sound of the pounding rain, and the scent of heat and faded perfume in the closed cab of his truck. It reminded him of the feel of her chilled skin under his hands as it grew warm from his touch. Lips that tasted of something sweet and hot. Her lipstick and deeper still...her.

He closed his eyes, the images nearly overwhelming him. Images of her. Images of what had followed...the reason he’d left her there, left her in the rain, huddled in the cab of his truck as he returned to the bar to pull his father from yet another fight, yet another pummeling.

He’d left her, choosing once again to save his father rather than follow what he wanted. What he longed for. Needed.

Opening his eyes, Lane met that familiar blue stare again, steeled himself against its pull. “Nothing has changed.” He stepped close, forcing her to tilt her head farther back to continue looking at him. “Nothing.”

“I... I hadn’t expected it to,” she whispered, surprising him with the weak tone in her voice. “You’ve made it clear. I don’t expect anything from you, Lane.”

As if it were that simple. Dear God, he never should have come here. Never should have let his emotions override his common sense. She might have convinced herself she didn’t expect anything, but the people in that waiting room? The tiny baby down the hall? Himself? All of them expected something—everyone expected something from him.

He wanted to curse. Wanted to hurl his anger at her. But he held back, just like he always did. Damn. “You don’t know me like you think you do.” The anger came out in his voice. If anyone would notice, she would. He took a deep breath to cool it. He didn’t want to upset her. He shouldn’t have come here.

“Really?” She looked directly at him, her stare strong, showing none of the weakness of her body. “What exactly do you think I don’t know?”

He laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound. Oh, no. He wasn’t baring his soul to her, not here, not now, maybe never. “Let’s just say your judgment’s a bit clouded.”

He stepped a tad closer, making sure she held his gaze. “I don’t shirk my responsibilities. But I am not cut out to be anyone’s dad.” Why did those words burn his gut? “He needs someone else.” Anyone else. “Someone better, someone who can give him—and you—a better life than I can.”

Lane took a step back from the bed. “You don’t have to worry, Mandy. I don’t make much, but I’ll send what I can.” He took a few more steps. His gut clenched. This wasn’t what she wanted and it tore him up to walk away from her. Their son’s tiny face floated in his memory, taunting his nobility. But he knew his reality. He couldn’t put either of them through the mess that was his life.

Better to keep his distance now, before the attachment grew, than to hurt them later like he knew he would.

Damn it.

The sound of footsteps broke the quiet again, not boot heels, but crepe soles that swished against the polished tiles. The nurse appeared a second later. “Good evening.” She held a small tray in her hands. “Time for your next dose.”

“It will make me sleep,” Mandy complained.

“Sleep is the best thing for you right now.” The woman stepped to the bedside. “Enjoy it now, dear. You two won’t get much when that little guy goes home with you.”

Lane turned then and headed to the door. In the frame, he stood and swallowed hard. He didn’t even know what to say. Instead of speaking, he settled the black Stetson on his head and stalked down the hall, pausing only for the elevators. Once outside, he climbed into his truck. His mind filled with the images of Mandy’s pain-filled features, and— My God, he had a son!

The kaleidoscope of images chased him across the city and out into the familiar open spaces of the highway and ranchland.