Rancher's Son Read online

  She swallowed visibly. “Mr. Parker, I know we didn’t part under the best of circumstances last time, but I appreciate your coming in today. Please, take a seat.”

  “Most folks call me Ty.” He remained on his feet until she was settled behind her desk.

  “And I’m Sarah.” She smiled one of those vague smiles people give when their thoughts are somewhere else.

  Still wondering why she had demanded his presence, Ty waited while she opened a blue-edged folder and flipped through several official-looking documents.

  “Mr. Parker—Ty,” she said, looking up from the papers. “You were married to Millicent Gage, weren’t you?”

  “Millie?” Ty frowned. As far as expected topics of conversation went, his ex-wife was pretty far down on the list. He hadn’t seen the woman in nearly six years, hadn’t given her more than an occasional thought in the past two or three. He met Sarah’s eyes. The concern he read there made him uneasy enough that he shifted in his chair.

  “Ty,” she said softly. “I’m afraid I have some sad news.”

  Sarah paused long enough for his mind to form a hundred different questions. Across from him, she drew in a breath so deep it made her chest swell.

  “I’m very sorry to have to tell you that your ex-wife, Millicent, passed away a few months ago.”

  Millie. Dead?

  Ty shook his head, trying to wrap his thoughts around the idea that the woman who’d been his childhood sweetheart was gone.

  “How? Where?” he managed to ask.

  “In New York. Apparently, she was mugged.”

  Nodding to himself, Ty absorbed this piece of news. Millie’s hunger for more than a quiet life on the Circle P had driven them apart. He’d always hoped that she’d found someone else. Someone who would give her a brick house in the city, like the one she’d wanted him to buy. He brushed his hand over his face. Moisture had gathered in his eyes. He wiped it away and sighed.

  Rising, he began, “Ms. Magarity…”

  “Sarah, please,” she interrupted.

  He tried again. “Sarah. If that’s why you called me here, you could have delivered that news over the phone and saved both of us some trouble.”

  “No, I couldn’t.”

  “Why not? Millie walked out of my life a long time ago. I’m sorry she passed on, but it doesn’t make sense that I’d have to come here so you could tell me about it.”

  He shook his head, cursing his foolishness for even considering that Sarah Magarity might be interested in him. Whatever he’d been thinking about her, he’d been wrong. The woman was so argumentative, she couldn’t even deliver the news about his ex-wife without disagreeing with him.

  Behind her desk, Sarah stood. Her soft features hardened. “Aren’t you even going to ask about your son?” she demanded harshly.

  “My… What?” Ty’s knees bent. His backside hit the chair again, this time hard enough to hurt.

  Chapter Two

  Beneath sun-darkened skin, Ty Parker went as pale as the glass of milk Sarah had poured for Jimmy that morning. The rancher sank onto the visitor’s chair, his head bowed. A clean, manly scent filled the room when he ran his fingers through hair that fell like shocks of wheat across his forehead.

  His reaction was so different from what Sarah had expected that she nearly forgot she’d been angry with him since last summer. One look at the child playing in the common area and her concern for Jimmy came back in a rush. She pushed aside her own feelings.

  “Mr. Parker?” When he didn’t budge, she put a little more intensity into her voice. “Ty, what are you going to do about your son?”

  The man finally raised his head. The pain clouding his dark eyes stirred an urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Grateful for the desk between them, she pressed her fingers against her thigh.

  “I don’t have a son,” he said. “I don’t have any children.”

  Sarah chewed her bottom lip. If she had a dollar for every time a father sat in her office and refused to take responsibility for his children, she’d be a rich woman instead of one who lived on a meager DCF salary. Besides, what earthly reason would Jimmy’s mom have for keeping such a huge secret?

  “It doesn’t do any good to deny it.” She let her back stiffen. “Now that Millie’s gone, it’s time you stepped up and became more than an absentee father.”

  “No.” Ty shook his head. “You don’t understand. Millie and I—” he stopped to mop his face “—our marriage fell apart long before she left. He’s not mine. He can’t be.”

  Everything about Ty shouted that this was the first he’d heard of his son. As much as Sarah wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, the lengths some men took to get out of supporting their own kids never ceased to amaze her. She brushed aside Ty’s objections with a wave of one hand.

  “Doesn’t matter. The fact is, your name—Tyrone Parker—is on Jimmy’s birth certificate. In my book, that means you’re responsible for him.”

  There wasn’t a doubt in the world the rancher was Jimmy’s dad. If she placed the photo she’d taken of the child under her hastily cobbled together Christmas tree next to one of Ty at five years old, she’d bet his own mother wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. From deep-set brown eyes to thick blond hair, the two were as alike as father and son could be. She noted the wayward hairs that rose above Ty’s careful part. He and the boy even sported the same cowlick. Sure, Jimmy was slight where Ty was muscular, but environment, not genetics, had made him that way.

  “A piece of paper?” Ty came to his feet. “You think just because my name is on a birth certificate, that makes me this kid’s father? I’m a cattleman. When we inseminate our cows, we demand DNA tests to confirm the sire. And that’s what it’ll take to prove this kid is mine.”

  Sarah pulled herself erect, squared her shoulders and did her best to ignore the way the tall man towered over her. Ty wasn’t the first to deny he had fathered a child. He certainly wouldn’t be the last.

  “I’ve heard that before. More times than I can count. You want a paternity test? Fine. The way our labs are backed up with cases just like yours, it might take two weeks to get the results. In the meantime, there’s a little boy waiting in the playroom. What am I supposed to do with Jimmy?”

  Yes, even though it was against policy for a caseworker to get personally involved, she’d taken the child home on Christmas Eve. He’d been with her ever since. She’d told herself it was only a temporary measure, that without access to DCF’s database, a kid could get lost in the system. It had happened before…in this very office…and she didn’t like to think of the consequences. So, she’d broken a rule. Or two. This morning, she’d been called on the carpet for her actions. She might have jeopardized her next promotion, but the poor kid had no one else to love him.

  What else was she supposed to do?

  That didn’t explain why she’d dipped into her vacation fund to give the boy a Christmas that fulfilled his every wish…except for the thing he wanted most, the one thing no one could deliver. She faltered. No good could come from letting the big rancher know how attached she’d grown to the child. His child.

  “My supervisor wants the boy placed…today. If you insist he’s not yours, I don’t have any choice. I’ll have to put him into The Glades.”

  Ty spared her a flinty look. “Those two idiots you sent on my cattle drive last summer. They were from The Glades, weren’t they? I thought that was only for teens. How many other little kids are hou
sed there?”

  Surprised Ty had bothered to learn a single fact about the two boys who hadn’t lasted a week on the Circle P, Sarah wavered.

  “It’s not the ideal situation for a child as young as Jimmy,” she admitted. Most of the residents at The Glades were old enough to be in high school and would age out of the system on their eighteenth birthdays. “We’ll move him into a better placement—a foster home—as soon as a bed becomes available.”

  “And how long do you think that’ll take?”

  “Holidays can be terribly difficult for families. There’s no way of telling when a spot will open up. It could be days. Weeks, even.”

  Ty expelled an enormous breath of air. “Let’s get this straight. I don’t believe for a second that this kid is mine. That long ago, I was struggling to hold on to the Circle P. Times were tough and my marriage was falling apart. But Millie would have told me if she was pregnant. Would have at least asked for money. And I’d have found a way to help her. No matter what. So, I’m telling you, this kid isn’t mine. But…” He rolled his hat through his hands. His shoulders slumped. “But, I didn’t exactly keep a calendar, if you know what I mean. On the off chance that the blood tests do come back positive, no kid of mine is going to spend one night in a place like The Glades. Have I made myself clear?”

  Sarah patted a wisp of loose hair into place. By keeping Jimmy with her this past week, she’d not only forfeited her vacation, she’d gone out on a very thin limb. She’d be risking her job if she kept the child until the results came in. And there simply wasn’t anywhere else for him to go. Not with Connie, her boss, in an uproar that Sarah had chosen the welfare of a child over the rules…again.

  “It’s the only option,” she insisted.

  “Well, he could come to the Circle P. At least until we get this mess straightened out.”

  Sarah let her eyes narrow. The look on Ty’s face made it quite obvious he wasn’t happy with the idea. “This isn’t like one of your calves. You can’t stick him in a stall and ignore him all day.”

  “We treat our cows better than that.”

  “So, you’re saying you’ll take care of him? Or you have someone who can?” Carefully, she considered the idea. As a prerequisite for the Big Brother program, Ty had sailed through the training course for foster parents.

  The chiseled edge of his jaw firmed. “We have a roundup starting tomorrow, New Year’s Day. He can come along.” He glanced through the open doorway toward Jimmy. The way Ty nodded, Sarah thought the rancher might be talking more to himself than to her. “He can sit in the cook wagon with Doris, my foreman’s wife. At night, he can bunk in with me and the ranch hands.”

  Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. “You can’t take a little boy on a cattle drive. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Oh, it’s not a real roundup. It’s more of a camping trip.” Ty paused. “On horseback.” Another pause. “With cows.” A grin worked its way across his mouth.

  The smile ignited the same slow burn that had warmed Sarah’s midsection back when she thought Ty and his pals from college might be able to give a couple of her older charges a fresh start. She caught herself staring at Ty’s lips and bit her own. For Jimmy’s sake, she had to ignore the man’s mesmerizing good looks because taking a five-year-old on a trek into the wilderness just didn’t make sense.

  “Trust me. My family’s been doing this for four generations. I wasn’t much older than Jimmy when I went on my first one. The sunshine and fresh air will do the boy good.”

  “No. No. No.” Sarah was already shaking her head. “I know all about your cattle drives, remember? Chris and Tom told me everything.”

  “Those two boys were hooligans who put other people in danger.”

  “That’s not the story I heard.”

  She’d spent six months helping his fraternity sponsor two foster kids on the Circle P’s annual cattle drive. The paperwork alone had been monumental, to say nothing of the hours she’d spent in meetings with Ty and his friends. In theory, a couple of weeks on horseback would help two of her most troubled charges turn their lives around. A plan that ended when Ty had practically hog-tied the boys and dragged them back into town after only two days.

  “I heard all about the bottles that were passed around the campfire every night. You stuck two kids who’d never ridden before on horses and expected them to know what to do. They got lost and no one came to find them. There wasn’t enough food—”

  Ty’s deep chuckles filled the space between them. “Doris would flat have a fit if she heard that.”

  Sarah’s heart stuttered. Heaven help her, the man’s smile seemed to out-shine the sun. She wrenched her gaze from his face and forced herself to stare at a spot over his shoulder.

  “Look,” he continued. “We all had high hopes for Alpha Rho’s involvement with foster kids. No one’s any sorrier than I am that it didn’t work out. I know we had some problems, but none of that matters. What does matter is that I run a clean camp. Yes, my guests are free to bring their own liquor, but we see that everyone’s well supervised. It’s a family affair. Good, clean fun. We even have a couple of folks from Minnesota on this next ride. They’re bringing their teenage daughter along.”

  Had the boys lied?

  Sarah mulled the likelihood that she’d misjudged the rancher. Okay, the teens had been a bit on the wild side, but wasn’t that the whole point? To expose them to a different environment in the hope that they’d make better choices in their lives?

  That still didn’t mean taking a five-year-old on a cattle drive was a good idea. Things would be different if Ty admitted he was Jimmy’s father. The man’s insistence that he wasn’t changed the landscape. DCF rules would never permit a foster dad to take a child on a long trek through the wilderness, and she’d be fired if she approved it. But until the blood tests came back proving Millie had told the truth and Ty was wrong, she had no choice. She had to give this reluctant father a chance to get to know his son.

  “All right, you can take him on your roundup with one condition.” She paused long enough to give Ty a meaningful look that made it clear the stipulation was not up for negotiation. “I’m coming with him.”

  Surprise flickered across Ty’s face. Amusement glinted in the eyes that slowly traveled over her. “Do you even know how to ride a horse?”

  His frank appraisal made her nervous, and Sarah crossed her arms. “Yes.” She pushed her shoulders back, her chest out. “I’ll have you know I rode dressage in college.” Her part-time job at the Equestrian Center had meant more time mucking stalls than exercising the stock, but that was something Ty didn’t need to know.

  “Okay, then. I’ll have my foreman, Seth, email you a list of supplies you’ll need to bring.” With another glance into the common area, his voice dropped. “Don’t worry about the kid. I’ll take care of whatever he needs. Just make sure you’re both at the Circle P by noon tomorrow. We’ll mount up and be on the trail by one. Now let’s go see about that blood test.” And without another word Ty Parker slipped his cowboy hat on his head and strode out of her office.

  Sarah stared after him for a moment, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. The rancher, with his sun-bleached hair, piercing eyes and ruggedly handsome face, was easily the most attractive man she’d seen in ages. But looks weren’t everything. Ty Parker opposed the goals she’d spent the past seven years trying to accomplish. So, why had she just volunteered to spend so much time in his company?

  The answe
r to that was simple enough—for his son. The boy Ty refused to admit was his. The one who tugged on her heartstrings more than a seasoned DCF caseworker should ever allow. The child who was going home with her again tonight despite the hot water it would put her in.

  Her eyes on Jimmy, Sarah picked up the phone and dialed the number for the lab.

  * * *

  THE FAINTEST SCENT OF TROPICAL flowers drifted in Sarah’s wake as Ty held the door open for her and Jimmy. The woman smelled good—no denying it—but she was obviously in a snit over the way things had gone in her office. She practically marched along, a frown thinning her mouth to a tight line, her loose skirt swishing over her hips, Jimmy’s hand securely in hers. The boy, who’d barely shed a tear when the nurse had jabbed an oversize needle into his arm, hurried to keep pace. Spying the purple gauze on the boy’s thin arm, the same kind that wrapped around his own elbow, Ty winced.

  The movement landed another blow behind his temples where a headache had hammered ever since the nurse asked Jimmy his birth date. It hadn’t required a degree in math for Ty to count backward and realize Millie had indeed been halfway through her first trimester when she lit out for New York. He rubbed his forehead. For the life of him, he’d swear she’d quit sharing his bed months earlier, but maybe—just maybe—he was wrong. Time, and the miracle of modern science, would tell. Until then, the least he could do was watch out for the boy.

  He caught up with Sarah and Jimmy outside the clinic where he gave the kid’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

  “Thanks for holding my hand in there, pardner.”

  The little boy’s hand slipped from Sarah’s. His feet firmly planted on the sidewalk, Jimmy stared up at him through eyes clouded with doubt.

  “You’re not a real cowboy. You don’t have a horse, and you were scared.”

  Even though the kid probably wasn’t his, the accusation stung. Ty countered it by tugging on the brim of his Stetson. “I’m not, huh? You come on out to my ranch. You’ll see.”