The Rancher's Secret Son

“Of course I do. We couldn’t work things out.” He took a swallow of his beer, as if to wash away the memory of their breakup. “Karen and I had known each other for years and we’d dated in college and at one point had talked about marriage. When she came to work in DC she called me and I started seeing her. She was from Dallas, had no ties that would interfere with the two of us. My family pushed me to marry and start a family. You had already turned me down. That last time you and I were together...it was terrible. I imagine you were as hurt as I was. It was clear that it was over between us.”

She nodded her head, giving him the affirmation he was looking for. Then he continued.

“I proposed to Karen and she accepted. I know it was fast and I know I should have called to let you know so you heard it from me, but...well, I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me at all.”

“I heard you were dating and then I heard you were engaged. I was shocked, but I understood that we couldn’t work out our problems. You had your life in politics and in DC at the time, working at that well-known law firm. It was obvious you would be successful and you were ambitious. The hurtful words we had finally ended it between us. I let you go out of my life and I knew eventually you would have your own life, your wife, your family.”

“That’s what I planned,” he said quietly, looking down at the beer in his hand and then taking a drink before he lowered it to look at her and wait for her to speak.

“We had really gone our separate ways and you were starting a new life.”

“What you want to tell me—does it have something to do with me?” he asked, sounding puzzled.

She nodded. “I just want you to remember that you had your own life planned, a new career, a future in politics, a new wife. You lived in your world.”

She could see she had his full attention and she was certain he was trying to figure out how anything in her life could involve him. She took a deep breath and hoped she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.

“Nick, at that time I was pregnant with your son.”

Three (#ulink_ddf1b5f5-c77a-5466-8227-66326269a324)

Stunned, Nick could only stare at her as he tried to register her words. “That was almost four years ago,” he whispered, talking more to himself than to her. She couldn’t have had his baby. He gazed into her big, dark-brown eyes that still hid secrets and saw her wring her hands. She looked pale, afraid, her shoulders slightly hunched. She was telling him the truth. Four years ago he had gotten her pregnant. Nine months later, she had given birth to his baby and hadn’t told him.

He had a son. He would have to be three now. Nick was so stunned he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t believe that he was a dad. Gulping for breath, he stood and walked to the window. Like shock waves that kept hitting him, the realization rocked him again that he was a dad, he had a son, a child of his own. He turned to look at Claire.

“Dammit, Claire. I have a child and you didn’t tell me,” he said, clenching his fists and shaking, anger and shock jolting him. “How could you not tell me? Dammit,” he snapped, without giving her time to answer.

He could only stare at her and think back. He had been in love with her, had proposed to her and wanted to marry her. And then they’d fought. On the rebound he had married Karen. He hadn’t talked to Claire again and she hadn’t talked to him—a natural outcome of the last hours of arguing, flinging accusations, letting a wall of anger and hurt come between them.

And now to learn that he had a son and Claire had never told him shocked and angered him all over again. He placed his hands on his hips without thinking what he was doing. “You never intended to tell me. The only reason you did is because we saw each other today,” he said, fury beginning to boil.

She stood and faced him. “When you told me you had lost your wife and unborn baby, I realized you had to be told. Before, an out-of-wedlock baby would have hurt or ruined your political aspirations and you know it. You wouldn’t have wanted to hear from me. When you married, I always thought you would have your family with your wife and you really would never be that interested in a child I carried.”

“My son? Of course, I would be interested. I have a son,” he said, feeling awe. “Claire, that is the most fantastic news I could possibly hear. How in hell could you think I wouldn’t be interested?”

“I just told you—news that I had given birth to your son just after your marriage would have killed your political career. You married within months after our breakup. I wondered if you had been seeing her while you were seeing me. Your new wife certainly would not have wanted to hear that I had your baby.” Claire closed her eyes and swayed, and he frowned, wondering whether she was about to faint. “Nick, can’t you see that I felt you shut me out of your life? Without telling me anything you became engaged. You should have let me know.”

“I should have done that, I agree.”

“Recriminations aren’t going to help. I’m just trying to explain my actions.”

“You can’t ever explain not letting me know,” he said.

“I just did. Would you have wanted to tell your fiancée you had recently gotten me pregnant? You married and occasionally I saw pictures in the news of you with your wife and you looked happy. Why would I think you would want my baby just when you married Karen?”

Knowing she was right, he didn’t care. The knowledge that he had a son was far more important.

“I’ve missed all his first years. I missed his babyhood. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t even know I exist, does he?”

“No, he’s little.”

“Dammit, Claire, I’ve missed too much.”

“Hindsight is always better,” she replied, looking pained. “I’ve told you why I did what I did. It’s that simple. But I will say this. This son is not going to help your political life, I promise you.”

“I don’t give a damn about that. It’s far more important that I know my son.”

“You say that now, but you don’t really mean it. Your adult life has revolved around politics and rising to the next office,” she said.

“I mean it, Claire. My son is my future, not a job. You can’t keep me from getting to know him.”

“I don’t plan to, Nick. That’s why I’ve told you about him.” She glanced away. “But your family will not be happy, especially your father. You know he would not have been happy to hear about a child—not then and not now.”

Nick inhaled and clenched his fists, trying to hang on to his temper. “You took those years from me, and I can never get them back.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I regret that now.”

“I’ve been through hell the past two years. I lost my wife and baby. I could have filled part of that void and helped the hurt by knowing my son. I can’t believe you did this to me.”

She looked at him. “Nick, I’m so sorry for your loss and if I had known—” She bit off her words and wrung her hands. “I wish I could undo the past few years, but I can’t. We’ll have to pick up from here.”

“Dammit, Claire,” he said, clenching his fists and closing his eyes. Hurting, he thought of all the empty moments. He’d hurt badly after the breakup with Claire. Two years ago, he’d hurt after losing Karen and the baby. Now he had another deep hurt and this one could have been so easily avoided. He tried to hang on to his temper and to avoid saying hurtful things to Claire because it really didn’t help to pour out his fury on her.

“Would you like to see his picture?” she asked after a few minutes.

Nick jerked his head up. His anger melted as fast as it had come and awe filled him. He suddenly knew how he would have felt if he had been present at the birth of his son. “You have his picture? Of course I’d like to see it.”

She walked back to the ottoman to pick up her phone. Nick came to stand beside her. “I named him Cody Nicholas Prentiss.”

“You named him Nicholas?” he asked, pleasure filling him.

“Yes. I named him for you,” she said, looking up at him. “I felt I should do that.”

Nick looked at her phone and she opened it, handing it to him. His hands shook and he was overwhelmed as he looked at a child that resembled his own pictures when he was small.

“Oh, my word, there’s no doubt about his heritage. He looks just like me at that age,” Nick said, the feeling of awe swamping him. “My family will love him beyond words. Thank you for naming him Nicholas.”

“He looks like you. He’s a sweet, happy little boy who loves people. Even as a baby, he smiled constantly when someone talked to him.”

“That’s great,” Nick said, still staring at Cody’s picture.

“My grandmother watches him a couple of days a week, and I have a nanny the rest of the time to help relieve Grandma. For his first seven months I took maternity leave. Grandpa was around until the past six months, so there was a man in the house.”

Looking at his son, Nick felt the sting of tears of joy, forgetting his anger and the empty years. Getting a grip on his emotions, he wiped his eyes. “I have a son,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “This is the most wonderful news. Claire, he’s perfect. Was your family with you when he was born?” he asked, staring at Cody’s picture.

“Oh, yes. Mom was alive then, and all of them were thrilled. When he was a baby, one of us rocked him to sleep every night. Grandpa read to him when he was so tiny he couldn’t possibly understand a word, but it made him happy.”

“Can you send this picture to me?”