Kings of California: Bargaining for King's Baby. Maureen Child

of subject with both hands. He checked his watch, then said, “I’ll call his office tomorrow. We can work out—”

      Whatever else he might have said was cut off at the sound of a scream shredding the air.

      With Sam right behind him, Adam raced out of the barn, heart in his throat and skidded to a stop when that scream turned into peals of laughter. His gaze shot to the corral and everything in him fisted into a tight knot.

      A boy, no more than four or five, was seated on the back of one of the Gypsy horses. The child’s parents were standing outside the corral, watching the scene with indulgent smiles as a daughter, no more than ten, hopped up and down impatiently awaiting her turn on the horse.

      Gina walked alongside the tiny would-be cowboy, her hand on the boy’s thigh, holding him in place while she grinned up at him. The boy’s delighted laughter spilled into the air like soap bubbles and Adam wrestled with the pain lodged in the center of his chest.

      He couldn’t move. Couldn’t tear his gaze from Gina and the boy as they moved slowly around the inside of the corral. He noticed everything. The sunlight on the boy’s blond hair, the steady gait of the horse, the patient smile on Gina’s face. Again and again, the boy laughed as he petted and stroked the mare’s neck, his tiny fingers getting lost in the thick, black mane.

      “Uh, I’ll just head on back to the office,” Sam said, and slipped away unnoticed.

      While his vision narrowed to that solitary child, Adam’s mind filled with images of another boy. On another sunny day. Another lifetime ago.

      “I want to stay with you, Daddy.” Jeremy’s big brown eyes were filled with tears and his lower lip trembled.

      “I know you do,” Adam said, checking his wristwatch and inwardly wincing. He was already late for a meeting. There were offers to be made, documents to be signed, dreams to be crushed. Instead of that wince, he smiled to himself. Since taking over the family ranch, he’d already made a difference.

      He’d found new buyers for their grain and cattle. New tenants for the farmland and he had plans to rebuild the King stables.

      If that meant spending less time with his wife and son than he would have liked, that’s the price he would pay. He was doing this for their future.

      “Please let me stay,” Jeremy said and a single tear rolled down his cheek. “I’ll be good.”

      “Jeremy,” he said, going down on one knee long enough to look his son in the eye. “I know you’d be good. But I’ve got work. I can’t play now anyway. You’ll have more fun with Mommy.”

      Adam lifted his gaze to the woman standing behind his son. Monica didn’t look any happier than Jeremy, but rather than tears in her eyes, there was fire. Anger. An expression Adam had become more and more used to seeing.

      Jeremy’s chin hit his chest and his narrow shoulders slumped in dejection. He rubbed the toe of his bright red tennis shoe in the dirt, sniffed loudly and ran one hand under his nose. “’Kay.”

      As the boy turned and walked with slow, miserable steps toward the silver sedan parked in the driveway, Adam stood up to face his wife.

      “That’s so typical of you, Adam,” she muttered, shooting a look over her shoulder at their son to make sure he was out of earshot.

      “Let’s not do this right now, all right?” He checked his wristwatch again and Monica hissed in a breath.

      “You never want to ‘do’ this, Adam. That’s the problem.”

      “I don’t have time for it, all right?”

      “Why don’t you schedule me in for a week from Tuesday, Adam? Will I get one minute? Or two?”

      He blew out a breath, reached out one hand to her, but she skipped back to avoid his touch. Adam sighed. “You know as well as I do, I’ve got responsibilities.”

      “Yes, you do.”

      He was irritated, angry and just a little weary of this whole situation. Monica had less and less patience with what she saw as Adam’s “preoccupation” with the King ranch. And as she pulled further away from him, he did the same. The ranch was his family’s legacy. It took time. Dedication.

      The car door closed behind Jeremy and he looked to see his son pull the seat belt across his chest and hook it securely.

      Glancing back at his wife, Adam said, “Can we not do this now? I’ve got a meeting.”

      “Right.” She shook her head, blond hair flying in a tight, short arc around her jawline. “Wouldn’t want you to miss a meeting just because of your family.”

      “Damn it, Monica.”

      “Damn you, Adam.” She turned and stalked to the car without another look at him. Just before she opened the car door, though, she allowed her gaze to lock with his. “Not that you’ll notice or anything, but I thought you should know—we’re not coming back. Jeremy and I are driving to my mother’s in San Francisco. I’ll let you know where to send our things once we’re settled.”

      “Just a damn minute,” Adam said, starting for her.

      But she hopped into the car, fired the engine and raced down the driveway before he could get to her. He watched dust and gravel fantail up behind the wheels of her car. The sun beat down on his head and shoulders and despite the heat, he felt cold. Right down to his bones.

      The dust settled and still he stood there, watching after the car carrying his wife and son away from him. Then the alarm on his watch beeped and he idly reached to turn it off. He had to leave for the meeting. He’d give Monica a chance to cool off. Then they’d talk. Work this out.

      He headed for his SUV.

      First things first. He had just enough time to make that meeting.

      Twenty minutes later, Jeremy and Monica were dead.

      Adam came up out of the past with a jolt.

      It had been years since he’d allowed himself to remember that day. But now, it had all rushed back at him because of the child, still laughing, in the corral.