Carolyne Aarsen

Cowboy Daddy


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got some teeth to our argument.” His voice rose and Sam started coughing again.

      “I’m saying goodbye,” Nicole said. “And you should go to bed. Make sure you take your medication and use that puffer the doctor gave you.”

      “Yes, yes,” Sam said. “I’ll get James to phone that lawyer. Tell him we insist on a DNA test. Give me his name and I can take care of it.”

      Nicole pulled out her cell phone and called up the name and number and gave that information to her father. “I’ll let you know the minute I hear anything.”

      Nicole said goodbye. She turned back to her computer, but only sat and stared sightlessly at the screen, her work suddenly forgotten as she thought of Justin and Tristan. Tricia’s boys.

      Seeing them had been heartwarming and heartrending at the same time.

      Again she felt the sting of her sister’s betrayal when Tricia had left without a word those many years ago. Nicole had hoped and prayed for an opportunity to talk to her face-to-face, to apologize. But the only letter in the envelope was one to her parents pleading for forgiveness. Nothing for her.

      Nicole glanced around the room as memories of other evenings in other motel rooms crowded in.

      Nicole tried to push the memories away, but the emotions of the past day had made her vulnerable and her mind slipped back to a vivid picture of herself, sitting on a bed in a motel room, a little girl of five, waiting while her aunt smoked and strode back and forth, watching through the window.

      When Nicole’s natural mother died, her father, a long-distance trucker, put Nicole into the care of his sister, a bitter, verbally abusive woman.

      Whenever he came into town, Nicole’s aunt would bring her to a motel where they would meet her father. She would stay with him for a couple of days and then he would be gone.

      That evening they waited until the next morning, but he never came. His truck had spun out of control and he had died in the subsequent accident.

      After six months, her aunt had her moved to an already-full foster home.

      Four years later, she was adopted by the Williams family at age eight, and her life went from the instability of seven foster homes in four years to the stability of a wealthy family. She was told enough times how blessed she was, and she knew it.

      Yet each night as she crawled into her bed, she would wonder when it would all get taken away. People had always left her. It would happen again.

      Then something magical and miraculous happened to her and the Williams family. Norah, who was never supposed to be able to conceive, became pregnant. When Tricia was born, Nicole bonded with this little baby in a way she couldn’t seem to with Norah and Sam. Tricia became as much Nicole’s child as her parents’.

      Nicole took care of her with a fierce intensity. She stood up for her in school, listened to her stories of heartbreak and sorrow. Defended her to Sam and Norah whenever Tricia got into yet another scrape. She was Tricia’s confidant.

      Then Tricia turned thirteen. She withdrew. Became sullen and ungrateful. She started hanging around with the wrong crowd and staying out late. Nicole had tried to reason with her, to explain that she was throwing her life away.

      But Tricia kept up her self-destructive lifestyle. Finally, in frustration, Nicole fought with her.

      Then Tricia, too, left and never came back.

      Nicole got up, grabbed her purse and walked out of the motel. She walked down the street, then up it again. She let the cooling mountain air soothe away the memories. She bought a sandwich, returned to her motel room and dove into her work. A few hours later she took a shower and crawled, exhausted, into bed. She needed all the rest could she get.

      Tomorrow she would be seeing Kip Cosgrove again.

      Tomorrow she would have other battles to fight.

      “So she has some legitimacy?” Kip leaned his elbows on his knees, then frowned at the grass stain he saw on his blue jeans. He should have checked before he put the pants on. Of course he was in a hurry when he left the ranch. Of course he had to go through a mini battle to get Isabelle to agree to take care of her nephews while he was gone.

      “As an aunt to the boys, she has as much right as you do,” Ron Benton, his lawyer, said, leaning his elbows on the desk. “As for her claim about Scott not being the father, unfortunately it’s a matter of her word against yours now that both the principals in this case are dead. We’ll need more information.”

      “Tricia abandoned the boys, Ron. She left them with Scott. She was gone for three years.”

      “Well, now we know she was dead for three years.”

      Kip blew out a sigh of frustration at that irrefutable truth. When Nicole had told him that, he felt as if his world had been realigned. Ever since Scott showed up at the farm with the two boys, Kip had burned with a righteous indignation that a woman could leave these boys all alone. An indignation that grew with each year of no communication.

      Now he found out she’d been dead and possibly didn’t know where Scott was.

      If what Nicole said was true.

      “The trouble is we don’t have a legal document that grants custody to you,” Ron said. “And it sounds like this Nicole might have one that gives it to her. Though you’ve been the primary caregiver—and any court would look at that as well—the reality is you don’t have legal backup for your case. As well, we don’t know why Tricia left.”

      “I know what Scott told me.”

      Ron blew his breath out, tapping his fingers against the sleeve of his suit jacket. “She and Scott got along? He never did anything to her?”

      “Of course not.” Kip barked his reply, then forced himself to settle down. Ever since Nicole had walked into their lives, he’d been edgy and distracted.

      He had too much responsibility. The words dropped into his mind with the weight of rocks.

      How could he think that? He loved his nephews dearly. He wasn’t going to let Nicole take them away. Especially not after promising his dying brother that he would take care of them. There was no way he was backing out on that. Not after what had happened to Scott.

      Guilt over his brother’s death stabbed him again. If only he hadn’t let him get on that horse. The horse was too green, he had told him, but Scott was insistent. Kip should have held his ground.

      Should have. He shoved his hand through his hair. The words would haunt him for the rest of his life.

      “Trouble is, we don’t have a lot to go on,” Ron continued. “Your main weapon is the primary-caregiver option. You’ve been taking care of Justin and Tristan. That’s what we’ll have to go with if this gets to court.”

      “Court? Would it get that far?”

      Ron lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “I’ll have to do some digging to see if I can avoid that, but no promises.”

      No time. No time.

      The words bounced around Kip’s mind, mocking him. He didn’t have time to fight this woman.

      “Whatever happens, I’m not letting some high and mighty Easterner come and take the boys simply because she has some piece of paper and I don’t,” Kip said as the door to the office opened.

      He stopped mid rant and turned in his chair in time to see Nicole standing in the doorway, the overhead lights of the office glinting off her long, blond hair and turning her gray-green eyes into chips of ice.

      Chapter Four

      Nicole glared at Kip Cosgrove, wondering if he could read the anger in her eyes. She doubted it. He sat back in the chair, looking as if he was completely in charge of the situation and his world.

      I’ve got a legal will, she reminded herself.