The Rancher's Secret Child
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“Can I?” Oliver looked from Essie to Lissa. And then his gaze drifted to Marcus, and for the first time the boy seemed confused and unsure of the situation. “Aunt Lissa, are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. And yes, you can go with Miss Essie. I think that would be fun. When you get back, we’ll leave.”
He gave her a quick hug, and the feel of his small arms wrapping around her neck was the sweetest thing ever. He wasn’t hers, but she loved him as if he were. Marcus Palermo could take him from her. She’d known that when she came here. She’d known for the past year that her time with Oliver might be limited. It had been a constant source of stress.
Essie gave them both a long look that held a lot of meaning, then she walked off with Oliver’s hand tucked in hers. The two were discussing chocolate pie and brownies. Oliver glanced back as he walked through the door to the kitchen.
“Surprise,” Marcus whispered as the doors to the kitchen closed. They weren’t alone. There were still people in the café sending them curious looks that they didn’t try to disguise.
“Yes. I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”
“Imagine how I felt when my aunt showed up at my place to inform me there was a woman in town and she had a little boy that looks a lot like me. Why are you still in town?”
He had a point. A good one. “I couldn’t leave. I wanted you to have a night to think about Oliver and being a father.”
“So you planned on giving me another chance?” He arched a brow at her, clearly questioning her honesty. Or her sanity.
Lissa didn’t quite know what to say.
She had wanted to go on, to forget Marcus and Bluebonnet Springs. But Oliver had been in the back seat of the car, his dark eyes intent on her face in the mirror, and he’d asked about Marcus and wondered if he’d been a friend of his mommy. Pushing aside her feelings of protectiveness, for Oliver’s sake she’d searched for a place to stay. For one night, she’d told herself. To give Marcus a chance.
She didn’t want to get ten years down the road and have Oliver ask her why she’d kept him from his father. She also didn’t want to settle into her life as Oliver’s mom and have Marcus show up out of the blue one day and take him.
“You could give a guy a chance to catch his breath. This did come out of nowhere,” Marcus said. The admission seemed pulled from deep inside. “It’s hard for me to imagine Sammy keeping this from me. I know we weren’t a good match. But he’s mine. That’s pretty obvious.”
“So, does a new day make things different for you?”
“His mercies are new every morning.” He spoke so softly she almost didn’t hear the words she hadn’t expected from this hardened cowboy. “Nothing is different. But everything has changed.”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t know how to be a father. I didn’t plan on getting married or bringing kids into the world.”
“You can’t undo what already is.” Her heart ached for the little boy who at that moment was eating pudding and didn’t know that his father was sitting there trying to figure out if he could be a part of his life.
He toyed with the spoon next to his coffee cup. “It isn’t that I don’t want him. But I don’t want to hurt him. He’s better off with you.”
“He’s your son.”
He sat there for a long minute looking at her. “Right. My son that Sammy didn’t tell me about. That speaks volumes.”
“She was afraid.”
“Of me.” One brow arched. She understood what he meant. Sammy had given birth to his son and then decided he wasn’t suitable to be in his child’s life. And later she’d regretted that decision.
Meeting him changed everything for Lissa. She hadn’t expected to like him. She hadn’t expected a lot of things about him. Like his thoughtfulness. Or the depth of emotion in his dark eyes.
“Time goes by and what seemed like a good decision starts to look like a bad one. Sammy regretted not telling you. And then she ran out of time.” She closed her eyes to regroup. It had been a year. She still missed her friend. Her sister. “And now you’re about to make the same mistake. What looks like a good idea today, five years down the road, might be the worst mistake of your life.”
“Valid point,” he said. “But if I allow you to tell him I’m his father, and I hurt him... Five years down the road, we can’t undo the damage. Speaking from experience, that kind of hurt can’t be undone.”
She wasn’t here to share stories, but she understood the damage an abusive parent could do to a child. She understood the scars, invisible and visible.
She understood how it affected relationships.
“You should at least get to know him.”
“How would that work, me getting to know him? How would you explain to him who I am and why he is spending time with me?”
“I’m not sure. We don’t have to tell him you’re his dad. Not until you’re ready. Or until we think he is ready.”
She glanced toward the window. The sky had darkened and, if possible, the rain came down harder.
“This rain is only getting worse.”
He was right. The rain was coming down in sheets. After the previous week of rain, she knew that the creeks would rise. The roads back to San Antonio would be a nightmare.
Before she left, she had to put all of her cards on the table. He deserved the whole truth, even if it meant losing Oliver. She reached into her purse and pulled out the letter.
“You should read this. Sammy left it with her will.”
He took the paper, but he didn’t open it. Instead, he slipped it into his pocket. “I’ll look at it some other time.”
“Sooner rather than later, Marcus.”
“Right.”
“Fine, here’s my number.” She wrote it on a napkin and handed it to him.
Thunder crashed and the windows rattled with the force of the wind. He glanced at her number and back to the storm raging outside. “You might ought to stay in town.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s just a little rain. And it might let up before I leave. I have to pack up and check out of our room at the B and B.”
She stood to retrieve Oliver from the kitchen, but Marcus pushed himself out of his chair first. “I’ll get him.”
It was a start, so she waited where she stood and watched as he headed for the kitchen.
He had stories. She didn’t want them. She didn’t want to be affected by a man her foster sister had deemed “too broken.” She’d always had a soft spot for broken things. It was her reason for becoming a nurse. Because as a nurse she had a reason to care, a reason to fix broken people. Fix them and send them home. Once she sent them home, they were out of her life. And then she had new people to care about, to help.
Lissa knew her own hang-ups. She had lived in a broken and abusive home with a mother who never put her child first. A mother she had tried to fix. And she’d failed. Time and again. Six months ago she had promised herself that she wouldn’t be used. Ever again. She wouldn’t enable. She wouldn’t give money. She would always care—she would pray for the woman who had given her life—but she wouldn’t give her the power to hurt her.
She and Sammy had been from similar backgrounds. As teens in the Simms home, they had made a pact to never be abused again, or tie themselves to broken men who would wound them the way their own mothers had been wounded. And they wouldn’t have children with men who would leave scars.
When Sammy had met Marcus, she’d been drawn to him in a way she’d deemed unhealthy. She’d never introduced him to Lissa, but she’d told her about him and about how easy it had been to fall for his charm. She’d lost herself a little, and when she realized that, she’d broken things off.
A few minutes later Marcus returned with Oliver. His aunt stood in the doorway of the kitchen, her mouth a firm line of disapproval. Marcus squatted, putting himself at eye level with his son. Lissa watched, wondering if Oliver suspected that this man was his father.
“You be good, okay?” Marcus said. She heard the rasp of emotion and knew he cared. That he cared spoke well of him. If only he realized that.
“I’ll be good. Can I come back and see your dog?” Oliver took a slight step forward. “And could I get a hat like yours?”
Marcus nodded and he looked up, meeting her gaze. He stood and backed up a step, putting a hand on his son’s head.
“We’ll be in touch?” Lissa asked.
Again he nodded. She took Oliver by the hand and left. Even though he’d said they would be in touch, she wondered if he meant to keep his word or if this was an easy way to say goodbye.
Chapter Three
A couple of hours after saying goodbye to Lissa and Oliver, Marcus was in the field, feeling thankful for a break in the clouds and for the help of his twin.
“How much rain are we supposed to get?” Marcus asked Alex as the two of them moved cattle from twenty acres along the creek to higher ground. They had opted for ATVs over horses. The rain had slacked off for a short time and they wanted to get the job done as quickly as possible.
“They’re saying up to a foot of rain toward the weekend. This is just the appetizer,” Alex responded as he moved his four-wheeler the opposite direction in order to keep a few steers from bolting back toward the creek.
Marcus glanced in the direction of his house. If they got that much rain, his house would be under water. The creek was coming up fast. He had sandbags, but he knew he couldn’t control the rise of water if there was a flash flood.
“We’ll do what we can to keep the water out,” Alex called out as they moved the cattle through the open gate.
A cow spooked. Marcus went after her, turning the four-wheeler hard to the right to stop her. She moved back to the herd and Alex closed the gate behind her. As they headed for the barn, the rain started again. They hit the throttles and raced side by side, stopping after they’d reached the safety of the equipment barn.
Alex was laughing as he climbed from the four-wheeler. He took off his hat and shook it. “Wow, this makes a guy want to build an ark.”
Marcus shrugged out of his raincoat. “I hate rain.”
“But you hate it more when we’re going through a drought and everything dries up.” Alex sat sideways on the seat of the ATV. “So, when are you going to tell me about your kid?”
“I guess I kind of thought it wasn’t any of your business.”
“Really? I’m your brother. Your twin. It seems to me I’d be the person most likely to listen if you need to talk. You had to know that everyone in town would be talking about how much that little boy looks like you.”
“I guess I hadn’t thought about it. And no need to analyze my mental condition, brother, I’m fine.”
“Of course you’re fine. But you have a son. That’s huge.”
“Yeah, it is.” He sat there thinking about Oliver. “He seems like a pretty great kid. And I don’t want to mess that up for him.”
“I get that. But we don’t always get to choose how things work out,” Alex responded. “Well, we should make a run for the house before the rain picks up again.”
“You can head home. I’ll do the rest of this myself. I’m sure you want to see Marissa.” Alex’s wife of five months. He’d found her standing on the side of the road in a wedding dress. She was a little bitty thing, but fierce, and she’d convinced Alex to give up his single ways. They’d married in December, a year after they’d first met.
Alex wasn’t Marcus. As kids they’d been different as night and day. The same went for the two of them as adults. Alex thought things out and let things go. Marcus had always battled it out and held on to his anger. When it came to their father, Alex had tried to reason. He’d searched to find ways to solve their problems. Conversely, Marcus had gone at Jesse and he’d paid physically for his efforts.
Marcus’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the unfamiliar number and answered. “Marcus Palermo.”
“Marcus, Guy Phipps here. We’ve got a car in the ditch just south of the old crossroads bridge.”
“Who is it?” He glanced at his brother. Alex had moved closer, pulling out his phone as he did. Probably worrying about his wife. Or their sister Lucy. Even Maria, if she was on her way home from college. She’d begun her summer break just a few days ago and planned on heading home.
“Not from around here. Name is...” Guy paused. “Name’s Lissa Hart. She’s got a little boy with her. She said to call you.”
He took a deep breath and made eye contact with Alex, who now appeared worried. “Are they hurt?”
“Nothing serious. Doc is here. He’s checking her shoulder. The little guy might have bumped his head.” Guy paused again. In the background, Marcus heard sirens.
It shook him. Marcus could willingly get on the biggest and meanest bulls in the country, a ton of pure rage and power. It might get his adrenaline going, but it didn’t shake him. It didn’t make him feel weak as a kitten and helpless to do anything.
“Guy, are they taking them to the hospital? Do I need to meet them somewhere?” Marcus glanced at Alex, who had followed as he walked away, wanting privacy, wanting to put on a mask, as if this didn’t matter. Alex wore a worried expression and Marcus knew his own would match. The two of them might be different, but they were the same. The twin thing wasn’t just a myth.
He knew Alex would feel his concern. And from that troubled look in his dark eyes, Marcus understood Alex felt his brother’s guilt. He’d sent the kid away. He didn’t know how to be a dad, so he had sent his son on down the road in the middle of a torrential rainstorm with floods predicted. Proof that he didn’t deserve to be a parent. He wasn’t any better than his own father, putting his own feelings ahead of the safety of a child.
And Lissa. He hadn’t given her a second thought once he’d said his goodbyes. At least, he’d told himself he wasn’t going to give her a second thought. It counted, that he’d intended to forget her. But even now, those blue eyes of hers triggered a memory. She’d challenged him to care. For his son.
Few people got away with challenging him. Few people had the backbone for it.
On the other end of the line the first responder was giving him information. He had to focus. “Doc said he’s going to drive them back to his office if you want to meet him there. The boy is asking for you. He’s a tough kid.” There was a smile in the first responder’s voice.
“Put him on the phone.” Marcus waited and pretty soon a hiccup over the phone told him Oliver was there and fighting tears. “Hey, little man. You okay?”
“I hit my head.”
“I bet that hurt.”
“It did. They said I wasn’t uncon...uncon...” He sounded like a boy trying to be brave.
“Unconscious?” Marcus supplied.
“Yeah. So I’m okay.”
“Nothing else hurts?”
“Nope,” Oliver said on a sniffle.
“Is Lissa okay?”
More sniffling and then, “Yeah, I think. She says her shoulder hurts. She’s not crying, though. Doc said she’s tougher than a bull rider. I think you’re a bull rider.”
“I am a bull rider,” Marcus told his son. His son. “Listen, I’m going to see you in a few minutes. You’re tough. You’ve got this.”
“Yeah, I’m tough.” The boy sounded like he meant to convince himself.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes, so you keep being tough and you take care of Lissa. She’s not as tough as she’s pretending to be.”
He ended the call.
“Let’s go,” Alex said. “I’ll drive.”
“I can drive. I want to grab a couple of blankets from the house.” Marcus headed for his truck.
“They’re fine,” Alex called out to him. “If they were in bad shape, Doc would send them to Killeen.”
“I know that.” Marcus opened his truck door and found his keys in the ignition. Alex climbed in on the other side.
“You should take your keys out.”
“Yeah, I know. But spare me the lectures.”
“So you don’t want me to tell you that you care about this kid and you shouldn’t let him walk away?” Alex reached to turn up the heat.
“I want you to stay out of my business.”
Alex gave him a thumbs-up. “Right.”
“Don’t talk.”
His twin zipped his lips.
Marcus might have grinned at the ridiculous gesture, but he didn’t have an ounce of humor in him. He had sent his kid away in this weather. His reckless decision had put Oliver and Lissa in danger.
It took fifteen minutes to get to the scene of the accident.
Flashing lights and scattered emergency vehicles lined the road. Marcus pulled behind a first responder and got out. The rain had picked back up. He saw Lissa sitting in Doc Parker’s car. Oliver sat huddled against her, his face pale and a bandage over the right side of his forehead. Doc leaned in talking to them.
The car she’d been driving now sat on the back of a tow truck. The driver’s side was dented and the tires on the passenger’s side were flat. Alex said something to him about seeing where they would tow the car.
When Marcus appeared behind Doc, Oliver noticed first and big tears rolled down his cheeks. Marcus pushed away memories of his sister looking much the same way. He hadn’t been able to help Lucy, but he could help Oliver. At least for today he could handle things and make sure the child wasn’t frightened and didn’t feel alone.
And then he made eye contact with Lissa and he could see in her blue eyes that she was being strong for Oliver. He recognized the flicker of pain that flashed across her features, tightening the lines around her mouth. But she managed a smile as she raised her left hand in a half-hearted wave.
“The roads are a mess,” she informed him with a hint of humor in her voice.
“Yeah, I’ve heard.” He leaned against the side of the car. “How are they, Doc?”
“Oh, not too bad all things considered. I think Miss Hart has a dislocated shoulder. Actually, she’s a nurse and that’s her diagnosis. I would concur. Mr. Oliver has a good bump on his head, but I think he’s okay. I’ll take them back to my office. We’ll get that shoulder back in place and I’ll turn them over to you.”
Turn them over to him? He started to object. He was the last person they should be relying on. But Oliver looked happy with the news. And Lissa Hart looked...relieved?
* * *
Lissa kept her left arm around Oliver. Her right arm she kept at her side. Every bump jostled it and sent a shooting pain to her shoulder. She cringed and Oliver snuggled closer.
“It’s okay,” she encouraged, trying to smile.
“Marcus is going to be with us.” Oliver said it with satisfaction, as if Marcus Palermo solved all of their problems.
The way she looked at it, Marcus was just another problem. He was too handsome. He was too much of a loner. He didn’t need or want anyone in his life. And the little boy sitting next to her wanted and needed a father. He would have to be told the truth, and when that happened, she knew he would want to stay with Marcus.
“I know he is going to be there.” She bit down on her lip as they hit a few potholes. The first responder had warned her that a ride with Doc Parker could be worse than the accident. She now understood the warning.
The car stopped at what appeared to be an abandoned convenience store. “What is this?”
Doc had already gotten out and was opening the door to help her. “My office.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry, it’s better than it looks. I know, an RN like yourself, you’re used to city clinics and hospitals. This serves us just fine.”
“I’m sure it does.” She eased herself out of the car and waited for Oliver. He had been so brave, but he now had big tears in his eyes. One broke loose and slid down his cheek. He swiped it away and managed a fierce look.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” She leaned close to the little boy.
He nodded and sniffed away the tears. “I’m good. I’m going to be a bull rider someday. Like Marcus. So I have to be tough.”
She wanted to sigh at that revelation. Oliver needed male role models. That was all. He was attaching himself to Marcus not because of the connection but because he represented everything a kid like Oliver wanted. Marcus was tough. He had lived an exciting life. He was a world champion. Of course Oliver wanted to be like him.
Doc cleared his throat as he looked from her to the little boy. “We’d best get you inside and put that shoulder back in the socket. Marcus will be here any minute. He just had a hard time keeping up with me.” The last was said with a grin and, she thought, a bit of misplaced pride.
He led them through a dismally decorated waiting room to a small exam room. Lissa gave Oliver what she hoped to be a reassuring look.
“Oliver, do you want to sit out in the waiting room? I bet Dr. Parker has a book you can look at.”
Doc rubbed a hand through thinning gray hair. “Books. Yes, I should have books. I keep meaning to get more. I have young ones that come in and books are something they love to take home with them. I can’t deny a child a book. And it’s Doc, not Dr. Parker.”
He walked away mumbling about books and toys and a shopping list. Oliver followed him out of the exam room, leaving Lissa alone. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. For her shoulder. For the doctor. And for the situation with Marcus and Oliver.
Her peace was short-lived. She heard male voices from the waiting room. Doc’s more gentle voice resonated through the door. She couldn’t make out his words. There were footsteps in the hall, a door closed, more talking. She heard Oliver telling them about how hard he hit his head and that he was sure he must have a headache. She smiled at his matter-of-fact assessment of his condition. He was fine, she assured herself. He wouldn’t be talking and laughing if he wasn’t okay.
And then the door opened and Marcus Palermo charged through, looking ragged and worn. Without greeting her, he took off his hat and hung it on a hook. He brushed a hand through curly, dark hair and then he seemed to remember her presence.
“What happened?”
“I’m fine, thank you. So is Oliver.” She didn’t have the patience for overbearing, take-charge men.
“I’m sorry—” he shook his head “—I shouldn’t have let you leave in this weather.”
“You didn’t have a choice. I’m an adult and I made the decision.” She grimaced as a hot flash of pain hit her shoulder, payment for what should have been a carefree shrug.
“It wasn’t safe,” he said as he took a seat on the rolling stool next to the exam table.
“I’m twenty-eight. I know how to drive in the rain. Could you please go sit with Oliver? He’s alone. I don’t want him to be alone.” She also didn’t want to be told what she could or couldn’t do. Her short relationship with Troy Larson had taught her that there was a fine line between a caring man who wanted to spend time with a woman and a controlling jerk who didn’t trust her out of his sight.
“Oliver isn’t alone. He’s with Doc and my brother, Alex.” He pinned her with his dark gaze. “Doc said your shoulder is dislocated.”
“Yes. It’s happened before and it isn’t too bad this time. I’m more worried about Oliver. If you could sit with him. Make sure he isn’t nauseated. Watch that his speech doesn’t slur.”
The door opened and Doc stepped inside the cramped room with the green carpet and mustard-yellow walls. He glanced at his watch and then at her.
“Well, young lady, let’s get this shoulder taken care of so we don’t miss lunch. Essie has the best enchiladas on Tuesdays.”
She nodded toward the door. “Cowboy, you should go. This isn’t going to be pleasant.”
Doc cackled at her warning. “You think I haven’t reset a bone or two for these boys? Marcus could probably set this shoulder with his eyes closed. He only lets me do it because he’s polite. Shy, quiet type, you know.”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes, he is quiet.”
“Well, I can’t fix everything,” Doc said softly. She wondered what he meant by that. “Now, let me see.”
He felt her shoulder and then gently rotated her arm. She took a deep breath, knowing what would come next. Still, she wasn’t prepared. Not for the bolt of lightning-deep pain or the arm that encircled her, holding her steady. Marcus smelled of rain, soap and aftershave, the kind of spicy scent that made a girl think of mountains and lakes. For a brief moment it took her mind off the pain in her shoulder. He was strong. Definitely the kind of guy a girl could lean on. But just for a moment.