Daddy Wore Spurs

“Dad had one installed in the ranch house years ago. It was rarely used until Rafe and Lilly had their babies. That’s my brother and sister-in-law. They have two kids. A girl, Colleen. And a boy, Austin. He’s just a few months older than Harry.”

She looked at him with interest. “So Harry would have cousins to play with. That is, if he truly is a Calhoun.”

Obviously she was going to point out the question of Harry’s parentage at every turn of their conversation, he thought drearily. Well, if it made her feel better, then so be it. She’d have her bubble busted soon enough.

“Six little cousins. The Calhoun family is big. And I don’t figure it’s quit growing yet.”

“Hmm. Must be nice. To be in a big family. I wouldn’t know.” She rinsed out the coffee carafe, then placed it back on the warmer. “So tell me about yourself and your family. What do you do back in Nevada?”

Rising to his feet, he carried his cup over to where she stood, then rested his hip against the cabinet counter. “I manage the horse division of the Silver Horn Ranch. Along with the cattle, we raise quarter horses for show, cutting and ranch use.”

* * *

Mariah stared at him while trying not to appear shocked. Aimee had simply told her that Finn was a horseman and Mariah had presumed he’d worked as a wrangler for some ranch, or was simply a guy who liked horses. Aimee had never mentioned anything as impressive as the manager of a horse division.

Her head swung back and forth. “We? Uh—you have other men helping you?”

“Why, yes. I thought—” Tilting his head to one side, he studied her. “Apparently Aimee didn’t tell you that my home is the Silver Horn.”

Confused now, she said, “No. She didn’t. And I’m not familiar with that name. Should I be?”

Her question put a look of amused disbelief on his face.

“Most folks on both sides of the state line have heard of the Silver Horn. But with Aimee gone and Stallion Canyon up for sale I guess you don’t keep up with ranching news.”

As long as her father had been alive, Mariah had been proud of Stallion Canyon. Ray Montgomery had poured his heart and soul into the land and the horses, and along the way had provided his daughters with a good home and security. But once he’d died, everything had taken a downhill slide. As the burden of debt had grown heavier on Mariah’s shoulders, she’d started to resent the place that had been her home for twenty years. Yet now, hearing Finn speak as though the ranch was done and finished left a hollowness inside her.

Resting her hand on the cabinet counter, she turned so that she was facing him. “So this Silver Horn where you work—it’s a big outfit?”

He nodded. “I don’t just work there. I live there, too. It belongs to the Calhoun family. My great-grandfather started it many years ago. These days my grandfather Bart—I call him Gramps—is the director of the whole shebang. We run a few thousand head of cattle and usually have two to three hundred horses on hand.”

Mariah was stunned. Why had Aimee kept something like that from her? Had her sister gone after Finn because she’d known he was wealthy, then later changed her mind about pursuing a relationship with him? Dear Lord, it was all so strange, so mind-boggling.

She tried not to sound as dazed as she felt. “Your ranch must cover a lot of acreage.”

“We own several thousand acres and lease that much more from the BLM—the Bureau of Land Management,” he told her.

Mariah felt like a fool. Not only because Aimee had kept her in the dark, but because she hadn’t looked into Finn’s background before she’d called to tell him about Harry. At least she would’ve known what sort of man she’d be facing. But then, a man’s material worth didn’t necessarily speak for his character, she reasoned. And she was quickly learning that Finn wasn’t a man who could be summed up in one short visit.

“I apologize if my questions sound stupid. But Aimee didn’t tell me anything about you. Except that you lived in Nevada and liked horses.”

He shrugged. “Guess that was all that mattered to her. When I told her I lived on the Silver Horn, she seemed to be familiar with the ranch. But we didn’t talk about it that much. She asked about our remuda and the broodmares and a little about the ranch house. It didn’t seem important to her.”

Her thoughts whirled as she gathered the few dirty dishes scattered over the countertop and piled them into the sink. “So Aimee understood you were wealthy?”

“I figure she made that assumption. But I never told her any such thing. Only a braggart starts spouting off information like that to a woman he’s just met,” he said. “I don’t expect you share the balance of your bank account with the men you meet.”

Pulling back her shoulders, she said, “I don’t meet that many men. But if I did, they wouldn’t hear about my finances. I just wondered...”

“If Aimee pursued me because of my wealth?” he asked wryly. “I think the fact that she didn’t attempt to continue our relationship tells you how much she appreciated my money.”

Mariah thoughtfully swiped a soapy sponge slowly over a saucer. “I don’t mean to pry, Finn. I’m just trying to understand why my sister put off contacting you about Harry. Could be she was worried about you getting custody—since you could provide more financial security for him. Far more than she ever could. But that doesn’t make much sense, either. Because she wasn’t afraid to put your name on the birth certificate.”

He moved a step closer and Mariah’s nerves twisted even tighter.

“I don’t think you ought to be worrying over Aimee’s motives anymore,” he said. “Harry’s future is the main issue now. And that brings us to the DNA test. Do you think we can get that taken care of tomorrow?”

Her throat went tight as she glanced over at him. “You’re not wanting to waste any time, are you?”

“Dallying around won’t tell us anything. And my job on the Horn is—well, pretty demanding. I need to get back there as soon as possible.”

“I suppose I can call the school and let them know I need to take a couple hours off in the morning. Long enough for us to go to the health department and get the samples taken,” she said guardedly. “That way you can go on back to Nevada. And receive the results in the mail.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

His instant retort had her dropping the sponge and squaring around to face him. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m not about to leave here without Harry.”

The determination in his voice sent a chill slithering down her spine. “And what if you’re not his father? All that waiting will be wasted.”

His clear blue gaze traveled over her face in a way that made Mariah forget about breathing.

“Let me be the judge of that,” he said quietly.

Shoving a hand in her hair, she pushed it off her forehead, while silently yelling at her heart to slow down. Otherwise, she was going to faint right at his feet.

Drawing in a steadying breath, she said, “You must be feeling confident that Harry is your child.”

“I am. And deep down you believe I’m his father, too. Don’t you?”

Clamping her jaw tight, she was determined not to let him see her cry, to let him know that the thought of losing Harry was shattering her whole being.

Turning back to the sink full of dishes, she picked up the sponge and twisted it until soapy foam covered both hands. “I’ll believe what the DNA test says,” she said hoarsely. “Nothing less.”

She was fighting back tears when she felt him move behind her and place his hand on her shoulder. Mariah squeezed her eyes shut as heat raced up the side of her neck and down her arm.

“Mariah,” he said gently, “I’m not an ogre. I can see how much you love Harry. But a man who could leave his son—well, he wouldn’t be much of a man. Would he?”

Swallowing hard, she turned to face him, but the moment her gaze met his, her self-control crumbled and she began pounding her fist against his chest. “No, damn you! I wished I’d never called you! I’d have my baby and you’d never know the difference!”

By the time he grabbed her flying fists and anchored them tightly against his chest, she was sobbing, her cheeks drenched with tears. But what this man thought about her no longer mattered. All she cared about was Harry.

“Hush, Mariah. Please, don’t cry.”

He gently drew her forward, until her wet cheek was pressed against the middle of his chest and his hand was stroking the back of her head.

Even if Mariah had wanted to resist, the solid comfort of his arms, the tender touch of his fingers upon her hair, was a balm to her raw nerves. A man hadn’t touched her this way in ages. She hadn’t wanted one to touch her. Until now.