Cowboys.
Every boy’s hero…every woman’s fantasy.
They can rope, they can ride…
But can they change a diaper?
In Vicki Lewis Thompson’s bestselling miniseries,
we discovered what happened when three intrepid cowpokes bravely ventured where none of them had ever gone before—the nursery!
But now that they’re there—and discover they like it!—they’re in for an even bigger surprise!
Because a fourth strapping cowboy has just stepped forward and announced…
Dear Reader,
It’s time to pop the cork on the bubbly and break out the fireworks! I’m celebrating the grand finale of my THREE COWBOYS & A BABY miniseries and my first-ever single title release!
I hope you’ve stayed with me through the series. If not, I’ll wait while you catch up. In Harlequin Temptation #780, The Colorado Kid, rancher Sebastian Daniels was sure baby Elizabeth belonged to him. Wrangler Travis Evans had a different idea and laid claim to the little girl he called Lizzie in Two in the Saddle (#784). While these two cowboys were busy sorting out their paternity issues, Boone Connor showed up in Boone’s Bounty (#788), and insisted the child belonged to him.
All three of these books were published in the Harlequin Temptation series, but the rip-roaring conclusion needed more room. More specifically, my hero, Nat Grady, needed more room—especially considering the shock he’s in for. Raised by an abusive father, wary of emotional entanglements, he has no intention of ever becoming a daddy. But Mother Nature has other ideas….
Writing this single title has made me as excited as a cowpoke headed into town after his first trail drive. So here’s That’s My Baby! If I were a smoker, I’d be passing out cigars!
Warmly,
That’s My Baby!
Vicki Lewis Thompson
With love to my husband Larry,
whose faith in me has never dimmed.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
JESSICA FRANKLIN’S STOMACH gurgled with anxiety as she waited at JFK for the 5:45 flight from London. After seventeen months apart, she had to meet Nat Grady, the man she’d loved—still loved, damn it—disguised as a bag lady. Then she had to tell him about Elizabeth, the baby he had no idea they’d conceived, the baby she’d left in Colorado to keep her safe.
The embarrassing truth was, Jessica had picked up a stalker. She thought of it like that, as if she’d contracted a deadly disease and was no longer fit to be a mother. Growing up, she’d felt stifled by her wealthy father’s attempts to protect her from kidnappers. She’d left home, spurning a life of bulletproof cars and bodyguards, insisting she could live quietly and anonymously without all that. It infuriated her to be wrong.
About ten feet away, a woman clucked and cooed at the baby in her arms. Jessica ached every time she saw a mother and child. For her own good she shouldn’t watch them, but she couldn’t seem to stop torturing herself. Babies drew her like magnets. When she spotted one, she’d stare shamelessly as she tried to guess the child’s age and wondered whether Elizabeth would look anything like that, act anything like that.
This one looked to be around eight months old, Elizabeth’s age, and he was a boy, judging from the outfit. Jessica couldn’t imagine her baby this size. When she’d left her at the Rocking D Ranch, Elizabeth had been so tiny, just barely two months old. Jessica had never imagined that their separation would be this long. But now that Nat was home, she would see her baby again. Soon.
The little boy laughed and Jessica counted four teeth. Elizabeth would have teeth by now. She would be crawling, getting into everything, learning to make noises that were the beginnings of speech.
Like ma-ma.
Jessica endured the pain. At least Elizabeth was safe. She’d known she could count on her friends Sebastian, Travis and Boone to keep her baby that way until Nat came home and they could all decide what to do.
Weary passengers trudged into the gate area from customs and Jessica’s pulse raced as she anticipated the meeting to come. She still hadn’t decided on her approach. The thought of Nat Grady brought up so many emotions she had to ask them to stand in line and take turns being heard.
Usually the first feeling to shoulder its way to the front was anger. She’d fallen head over heels in love with the guy, but for the year they’d been involved, he’d insisted they keep their relationship secret from everyone but his secretary, Bonnie, a woman who had invented the word discreet. Even his best friends, the three men she’d left in charge of Elizabeth, didn’t know she and Nat had been seeing each other.
She should have recognized the secrecy thing as a warning signal, but love was blind, and she’d accepted Nat’s explanation that his friends were a nosy bunch and he didn’t want outside interference in their relationship until he and Jessica knew where it was going. All the while he had jolly well known where it was going, she thought bitterly. On a train bound for nowhere.
If only she could hate him for that. God, how she’d tried. Instead, she kept thinking of what he’d said the night they’d broken up. I shouldn’t have let you waste your time on me. I’m not worth it.
Then he’d left her, his real estate business and his friends to head for a tiny, war-torn country where he’d worked as a volunteer in the refugee camps. Along with her other emotions connected to Nat, Jessica battled guilt. If she hadn’t pushed him to end the secrecy and marry her, he wouldn’t have left the country. She was sure of it. He’d have stayed in Colorado, making love to her, the sweetest love she’d ever known.
Instead, to get away from her and the demons she’d demanded that he face, he’d plunged into a violent place where the lines of battle blurred and changed every day. As a civilian he had no weapons and no military training to protect him. He’d spent seventeen months in danger on account of her, and if he’d been killed or hurt, she would have blamed herself.
She