Stella Bagwell

The Baby Truth


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with me.”

      “How are you going to use the phone if you’re lying on the floor in a dead faint? No,” he said emphatically, “it’s decided. You’re coming with me.”

      “But—”

      “Look, if you’re worried about being alone in the house with a man you’ve just met, forget it. My older sister lives with me.”

      “Oh.”

      He looked at her and grinned. “I’ll take that as a word of disappointment.”

      Straightening her shoulders, she settled back in her seat. “It was nothing of the sort. That was a word of confusion. My head is so mixed up right now it feels like it’s going to burst.”

      He pressed on the accelerator and positioned the truck in a faster-moving lane of traffic. “That’s what a good lawyer is for. To help a person who’s confused and in need.”

      She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. There didn’t appear to be a tense muscle in his body and somehow that helped to calm her racing mind.

      “I don’t know if you’re a good, bad or otherwise lawyer.”

      He chuckled again. “Guess you’ll have to find that out for yourself.”

      She wasn’t here in Carson City to bandy words with a sexy cowboy parading as a lawyer, or vice versa, she thought. She was here to meet the Calhouns and hopefully find some sort of clue to her past, her parentage and perhaps even her future.

      Ignoring his last remark, she stared out the windshield at the passing shops and busy traffic. The desert town was totally different from the New Mexico mountains where she’d lived all of her life.

      “Why are you going to all this bother?” she asked after a moment. “I’m not your problem. And you don’t have to pretend. It’s clear you think I’m chasing rainbows.”

      “Like I said, you’re not a problem—yet. But now that I’ve met you in person, I get the feeling you’re going to stir up a pot of trouble whenever the Calhouns get sight of you.”

      Turning her head, she stared uneasily at his rugged profile. “Why would the sight of me cause trouble?”

      “Because you are a dead ringer for Finn Calhoun. Only a sight prettier, of course.”

      Sassy gripped the armrest. Jett’s remark was almost exactly what Barry had said to her a few months ago. In fact, her resemblance to his friend Finn was the reason Barry had struck up a conversation with Sassy in the first place. Now Jett Sundell was implying the same thing.

      Not wanting to let her hopes run wild, she said after a moment, “It’s just a coincidence.”

      “Probably so. But it’s going to be fun to see all their faces when you walk through the door.”

      Right now Sassy didn’t want to walk through any door. She wanted to run as hard and fast as she could. Away from this sexy, provocative man, away from the news of her pregnancy and the fact that her life was taking as many turns as a wild roller coaster.

      But Sassy wasn’t a coward. She’d never run from a problem; she’d always faced them head-on. And she was going to prove to Jett Sundell and the powerful Calhoun family that she was more than a pitiful orphan without a direction.

      Chapter Two

      Jett’s ranch, the J Bar S, turned out to be more than just a little spread. Ten miles north of town they turned off the main highway and onto a red dirt road, where they passed beneath a rustic entrance made of rough cedar posts. Once the truck rattled over a wide cattle guard, the flat land covered with shrubby chaparral stretched toward the east as far as the eye could see. To the west, low hills were decorated with twisted juniper and ponderosa pine, and behind them, somewhat taller mountains were thickly forested with evergreens.

      The direction of the road eventually changed and took them straight to the mountains, then curved and climbed its way onto a small mesa. Once the truck reached the flattened strip of land, a rambling L-shaped house, nestled in a copse of tall pines and cottonwoods, came into view. Some hundred yards to the right of the house stood several barns and a maze of wooden corrals where a herd of playful horses were stirring the dust.

      Jett parked the truck beneath a carport located at the west end of the house. While she waited for him to skirt the vehicle, she took a moment to study his home.

      The walls were made of very dark brown logs with natural rock coming halfway up the sides. A walkway made of planked wood ran along the front of the house, until it reached a small porch where a holly bush blazed with bright red berries. Two black-and-white collies suddenly appeared from a far corner of the yard and jumped in excited circles around Jett’s legs.

      He ordered the dogs to give him space, then opened her door. “Here we are, Sassy,” he said, as he extended a hand up to her. “Don’t mind the dogs. They love people. I’ll help you in, then come back for your bags.”

      It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she no longer felt faint or needed his help to walk, but she quickly bit back the words. The men she’d spent time with, including Barry, had always treated her like a tough, outdoorsy girl who could take care of herself. This was first time in her life that she’d ever had a man treat her like a delicate lady. She might as well enjoy the special treatment for as long as she could.

      With his strong hand wrapped around hers, she climbed out of the truck and stood beside him. The dogs immediately rushed to her and she made a point of greeting them before she turned her attention back to Jett.

      “Before we go in, I want to thank you, Jett. In spite of some of the things I said to you, I really do appreciate all that you’re doing for me.”

      He smiled at her, and for a moment Sassy forgot everything, including the reason she’d even come to Nevada. There was something in his eyes that made her feel welcome, that said he was glad she was here. But that didn’t make sense. Jett didn’t know her. Not really. And if he did, what would he think? she wondered. She was a maid and lived on a salary that kept her bills paid and food on her table, but little more.

      He linked his arm through hers and started down the long sidewalk. “I have plenty of space and time. And it’s not often that I get a client like you.”

      “Oh. I thought the Calhoun family were your clients. Not me.” She would have preferred him to describe her as a friend. But that hardly mattered, she told herself. She was here to search for her parentage, not for a man.

      “Technically you’re right. But I have a protective nature. Especially when it comes to pretty women. So I’m making you my client, too.”

      He added another grin to the last of his words, and Sassy figured he’d never had a problem manipulating a woman’s heartstrings. But she didn’t need to worry about losing her heart to this charming cowboy. She was carrying a baby. That should be more than enough to turn off any man’s ardor.

      Compared to the Cantrell’s elaborate, two-story house back on the Chaparral Ranch, Jett’s home was a modest, though very comfortable, size. After passing through a small foyer, they entered a living room furnished with a wood-framed couch done in dark green-and-brown fabric, a matching love seat and two armchairs. In one corner, a television was tuned in to the weather, while a mug of coffee and a newspaper littered a varnished cedar coffee table. Braided rugs added splashes of color here and there across the inlaid wood floor. At the far end of the space, a fire burned low in a rock fireplace and filled the room with delicious warmth.

      “Bella! Come here! We have company!”

      Jett’s shout brought a flurry of movement from somewhere in the rooms beyond, and then a woman with a long, dark ponytail appeared in an open doorway, followed by a black cat with a red collar around its neck.

      “Oh! Jett, I wasn’t expecting you back home so early.” She walked toward her brother, who was still holding on to Sassy’s arm, then suddenly