Helen Lacey – The Cowgirl's Forever Family (страница 2)

He wanted the ranch? Her ranch. Panic set in. Was he from the bank? It seemed unlikely at this time of night...but who would know how these things worked.

“So, you found it,” she said, still keeping the locked door between them.

He nodded, looking slightly relieved. “Is Matthew Laughton around?”

He wanted Matt? Then he wasn’t from the bank. This was something else. She wondered what her wayward brother had done. And who was this guy...a cop? Or worse—a Fed? She felt ridiculous even thinking it. Maybe a bounty hunter? He didn’t look like that, either. But nothing would be a complete surprise when it came to Matt.

“He’s not here.”

The man stepped closer and she got a better look at him. He was remarkably handsome and her belly did a silly flip, which she promptly disregarded. Good-looking men were nothing but heartache.

The man’s gaze narrowed. “When will he be back?”

Brooke shrugged. “I have no idea. What’s this about?”

The man reached inside his pocket and withdrew a small business card. “My name is Tyler Madden and I need to see Matthew Laughton urgently.”

The dogs had settled and that was enough to convince Brooke he wasn’t a threat, so she opened the screen door slowly, pushed it back on the hinges and took the card. She read the words and her stomach sank.

Tyler Madden. Attorney.

She hated lawyers. And this one appeared no different from the other arrogant, slick, condescending mob who were trying to swindle her and steal her ranch—except he was drop-dead handsome. She took a galvanizing breath and spoke in a stern voice. “I don’t know where he is, Mr. Madden. I haven’t seen my brother for five years.”

It was the truth. In a way. Matt hadn’t set foot in Cedar River since their parents’ funeral. But he did still text her every week to let her know he was okay. Which she wasn’t about to admit to this lawyer. This stranger.

“You’re his sister?” He paused, as though accessing some memory. “Brooke Laughton?”

“How do you know my name?”

“It’s my job to know all the facts in a case.”

A case? Her brother was part of a case? It sounded serious. Oh, Matt...what have you done now? A chill coursed over her skin. “Please tell me what this is about. What has Matt done? Is he in trouble?”

“Trouble?” He shook his head. “Not exactly. But I do need to speak with him about something important.”

Brooke sighed heavily. Did she continue to have the discussion on her doorstep or invite him inside? “Lawyers hours are usually nine till five. Isn’t it a little late for a house call? Can’t this wait until the morning?”

He shrugged. “I’m booked into a hotel in town, but when I missed the turnoff I realized I was close to your ranch. And since the issue I need to discuss with your brother is one of high importance, I didn’t think the time mattered.”

It was a logical explanation. Sort of. “That’s easy enough to do,” she said. “They rerouted the highway about seven years ago. There’s only this place and the bigger ranch next door along this road now.” And if she wanted to know more she figured she needed to let him inside. “I suppose you should come in and explain what this is about.”

He hesitated for a second and then spoke. “Ah...sure. Just give me a minute.”

When he turned around and headed back toward the car Brooke stared after him. Maybe he wasn’t so harmless after all? What was he doing in the car? Looking for an axe? A gun?

She glanced at her rifle by the jamb and quickly shook the thought off. Trixie and Renaldo were now by the car, jumping around, seemingly happy that he wasn’t a threat. She trusted her dogs’ instincts. But as he approached the house again she regarded him incredulously.

Because he was carrying a baby.

A baby...

By the time he got to the porch her disbelief had fired up her temper. “You brought a baby with you? In the middle of the night and in this weather? What kind of parent are you? Of all the stupid—”

“This is not my baby,” he said quietly, cutting her off as he walked up the steps, then quickly brushed his shoes off on the mat and came across the threshold.

Brooke stared at the child. It was clearly a baby girl, dressed in an immaculate pink jumpsuit and hood and wrapped in a warm blanket, and she was sleeping peacefully against his shoulder. She looked about a year old, not that Brooke had any experience with infants.

Nor will I...

She pushed the thought from her head. Now wasn’t the time to reminisce about what she would never have. Could never have.

“Then whose...”

“Can I put her down somewhere?” he asked, ignoring her question. “Perhaps the sofa?”

Brooke nodded and closed the door. “Of course. This way.”

He motioned to the rifle by the door. “Was that intended for me?”

“If you were a threat...then, yes.”

“I’m not a threat to you,” he assured her.

“I guess I decide that once you tell me what this is about.”

She led the way to the living room and pointed to the big chintz sofa. He gently set the sleeping child down and secured a couple of cushions around her. Once he was done he straightened and let out a short sigh.

“This is about Cara,” he said, looking at the baby and then back to Brooke. “And she’s your niece.”

The breath rushed from her throat and she glared at him. “My what?”

* * *

Tyler hadn’t intended to show up on Brooke Laughton’s doorstep in the middle of the night. But he was all out of patience by the time he realized he’d missed the turnoff for Cedar River and since he was so close to where he needed to be, he took his chances. The long flight from New York, the mix-up with the rental car and a screwy GPS had done nothing to improve his mood. And Cara had been unusually restless most of the trip. He really should have brought the nanny with him to look after her. But he was all out of patience with that idea, too. He hadn’t liked the woman and her bossy ways. She was more drill sergeant than nanny. It was better this way and meant one less complication to deal with.

He was in Cedar River, South Dakota, to fulfil a promise he’d made to a dying girl and to an old man to whom he owed an enduring debt. He’d promised Ralph Jürgens that he would try and place Cara with her biological father, and that’s what he would endeavor to do.

Tyler looked at the woman standing barely three feet from him. She was pretty in a hometown kind of way. Her thick blond hair was tied up in a messy ponytail and she had freckles across the bridge of her nose. She had nice features and clear skin and although the sweats she wore were shapeless, he was sure there were curves underneath. But it was her eyes that caught his attention. Indigo eyes. So blue they appeared violet. The baby had the same color eyes. If he’d had any doubts that twelve month old Cara was Matt Laughton’s child they quickly disappeared.

“Your brother’s child.”

She gasped. “I don’t believe it. Matt wouldn’t be so—”

“Irresponsible?” Tyler finished for her. He knew enough about Matthew Laughton to figure that being responsible wasn’t on his radar. “Now, we both know that’s not true.”

Her chin hiked up. She had a temper, that was for sure. He wasn’t sure why it intrigued him, but it did.

“If Matt had a child he would have told me.”

“He doesn’t know about the child,” Tyler explained. “Which is why I am here. If you can give me a number where I can reach him we should be able to sort this out quickly.”

She didn’t look like she was prepared to give him anything. Except perhaps a punch in the nose. It only took a few minutes in her company to realize that Brooke Laughton wasn’t about to simply comply with his demands and give him Matthew’s contact details. She wanted answers. And her next words confirmed that.

“Not until you explain the situation to me fully, Mr. Madden.”

Tyler sighed heavily and motioned to the other sofa. “Shall we sit?”

She eyed him warily, but nodded and plonked herself on the single love seat by the fireplace. Tyler sat on the sofa, rested his elbows on his knees and looked around the room. There was a large family portrait above the fireplace and she looked to be around fifteen in the photograph. There were other pictures on the mantel—an old couple he assumed were her grandparents, and another of Brooke with three other women all wearing evening gowns and holding up champagne flutes. Family and friends—they were clearly important to her. A few Christmas cards sat on the mantel but there was no tree or gifts in the room.

Christmas. It was barely a week away. And not his scene. Maybe it wasn’t Brooke Laughton’s, either. Regardless, with any luck he’d be back in New York before the week was out.

“So?” she asked. “I’d like an explanation.”

Tyler nodded and focused his attention on the woman in front of him. “A little under two years ago your brother had a brief relationship with a young woman called Yelena Jürgens. That relationship resulted in Yelena’s pregnancy. By the time she discovered she was pregnant Matthew was long gone and she chose not to tell him about the baby.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Why not?”

Tyler shrugged lightly. “I’m not privy to what went on in their relationship. He was gone by then and Yelena was alone. I do know that Yelena wanted the child and planned to care for the baby herself.”