of the way. But I wasn’t quick enough to make it back through the corral gate. The horse struck me in the chest and once I was down that was it. There was nothing anyone could have done.”
Cassie’s throat tightened. “You could have been killed.”
He shrugged lightly. “I spent a month in hospital and the next six working to get back on my feet.”
“It happened only a few days or so before Doug died,” she said quietly, thinking of the irony. “It must have been hard for you, being in hospital and getting the news your brother was gone.”
He shrugged again, but Cassie wasn’t fooled. There was something in his expression that told her losing his brother had been shattering. She’d always thought Tanner to be aloof and insensitive. Doug had called him a free spirit, the kind of man who would never settle down, never lay down roots. But she wasn’t so sure. She decided to ask him. There was no point in being coy. There was too much at stake. “What are you really doing here, Tanner?”
He sat back slowly in his seat and watched her. “I told you.”
“To see your nephew?” It seemed too easy. Too simple.
“That’s right.”
“How long are you staying?”
He pushed the mug aside. “I’m not sure.”
Cassie’s back stiffened. “Then I have to ask you,” she said and pushed her shoulders back. “Are you kicking us out of this house?”
Tanner had expected the question. He knew she’d want to know about the house. It had to be hard for her. She’d lived in the house since she was a child. When her grandfather’s health had declined, the house was put on the market and sold...to Doug. Tanner had no idea why his brother had bought the place. But he knew Cassie had a deep connection to the home she’d once shared with her grandfather.
“Of course not.”
She let out a long breath, as though she’d been holding it. He noticed her knuckles were white around the mug. “Oh, okay.”
“This is still your home, Cassie.”
“But Doug—”
Tanner straightened his spine. “It’s still your home,” he said again, firmer this time.
“For the moment. And according to Doug’s lawyer, the house belongs to you.”
“An oversight, obviously.”
It wasn’t the truth. It wasn’t even close to it. But Tanner wouldn’t divulge that knowledge. There was no point. Doug was dead. His brother had left a mess behind—one Tanner had to clean up before he returned to South Dakota.
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
He lied again. “I’m sure Doug had every intention of—”
“I’m not sure what Doug intended,” she said, cutting him off.
But Tanner did. Doug had made his thoughts about the house and the child Cassie carried very clear. He drank some coffee and looked at her. She was so effortlessly pretty. His insides stirred and he quickly pushed the thought aside.
“It makes no difference now.”
She shook her head. “But the house —”
“It has a mortgage,” he said quietly. “Did you know that?”
She shook her head again. “I wasn’t sure. Doug never talked about it much when he returned from tour. I’ve been paying rent and the utilities like I’ve done since he first bought the place.” She stopped and looked at him. “How large a mortgage?”
His stomach tightened as he named the figure.
“Oh...that’s...that’s a lot.”
It was a lot. It was a six-figure hole that wouldn’t be covered by Doug’s insurance policy. Most of the money had gone to repay the balance on three maxed credit cards and a bank loan taken out to purchase the top-of-the-range Ducati stored in the garage.
He pushed down the resentment thickening his blood. Whatever Doug had done, Tanner had come to Crystal Point to fix things...not make matters worse. And definitely not to upset the woman who’d borne his brother’s child.
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he said gently, trying to put her at ease.
“I’d rather—”
“Tomorrow,” he said again and stood, scraping the chair back. “I think I should crash before the jet lag really takes hold.”
“Okay. Good night.”
“’Night, Cassie.”
He left the room quickly and ten minutes later he was asleep. Only his dreams were plagued by images of pale blue eyes and soft lips. And memories of the girl he’d met so long ago, but who didn’t remember him.
* * *
Cassie got up during the night to feed and change the baby and tumbled out of bed at a little after six the following morning. Oliver was awake in his crib, gurgling and pumping his little legs. Cassie scooped him up and inhaled the scent of lotion and baby shampoo. She never got enough of holding him or cuddling him. She gave him a bottle and when that was done she changed him out of pajamas and into a navy-and-white-striped jumpsuit and popped him in his bouncing rocker, which sat secured by two bolts on the big scrubbed table.
Mouse lingered by the back door waiting to be let out and once the dog was outside Cassie filled the coffeepot.
“Good morning.”
Tanner.
She wasn’t used to having a man in the house. Doug’s visits over the past couple of years had been sporadic. When they were together he was charming and familiar and despite how much she had loved him, didn’t set her pulse racing at a galloping speed. Not so his brother. Tanner stood in the doorway, dressed in the same jeans he’d worn the night before and a pale blue T-shirt that enhanced his well-cut arms and broad shoulders.
Once again she was struck by a sense of familiarity...of connection...of memory...of something...
“’Morning,” she said chirpily, shaking the feeling off. “Coffee’s on and I’m just about to make breakfast.”
Oliver chuckled and the sound instantly grabbed Tanner’s attention. Cassie watched, fascinated as he made his way toward her son and stopped by the table. Oliver’s chuckle became a laugh and she saw Tanner smile. He held out his hand and the baby latched on to his finger. It was both a painful and poignant moment for Cassie. Doug never had the chance to see his son and now Tanner was in her kitchen, making the very connection with Oliver she knew belonged to his brother.
“He’s cute,” Tanner said and looked at her. “He has your eyes.”
“They’re brown,” she said and poured the coffee. “Like yours.”
“The shape is all you, though,” he replied. “Lucky kid.”
Cassie ignored the fluttering in her belly. Being around Tanner had always done it to her. It didn’t mean anything. Just a silly awareness of his good looks. Even a rock would notice.
She started on breakfast and listened as he talked softly to Oliver. He had a nice voice, softly accented and a mix of his Australian roots combined with a quiet, Midwestern drawl. Oliver seemed mesmerized and she had just slid some bread into the toaster when Tanner spoke to her.
“Can I hold him?”
She looked up. “Sure. Do you know how?”
Cassie was sure one brow came up. “I