The Cowgirl's Little Secret

Four

“Let go of my son, Cord.” Jolie reached for CJ, but the boy shook her off, curling in closer to Cord’s shoulder.

CJ ignored his mother and cupped his hands on Cord’s cheeks. The boy pulled his head around to draw his attention.

“Do you have a little boy?”

Where the dickens had that question come from? Cord studied CJ’s face, noting the similarities.

“Yeah, it seems like maybe I do.”

“Oh.” The kid’s expression shuttered as he tucked his chin against his chest. He squirmed a little, as if to get away.

With a touch of his index finger, Cord got him to look up. None of this was CJ’s fault. But he had to know. Was there another man in Jolie’s life?

“Do you have a dad?”

“No.” The boy lifted his shoulders up around his ears and shot his mother a guilty look as he whispered, “I kinda wish I did.”

The kid’s voice did something to Cord’s chest. He remembered wishing the same thing, but his old man was always too busy. At the same time, relief washed over him. There didn’t seem to be a father figure in the boy’s life.

“Dads are important.” He offered CJ a hesitant smile.

“Cord...” Again Chance’s voice, brimming with unspoken legal advice, intruded. “We need to step back from the emotions here, talk about this someplace else.”

“Like your office?”

“Or home.” Chance sounded diplomatic.

Cord focused on CJ. “Have you ever met your dad?”

The kid shook his head, a little smile beginning to tweak the corner of his mouth. Then he glanced around at the serious faces of the adults, and his budding smile wilted when he fixed his attention on Jolie. “Mommy? Are you cryin’?” He squirmed to get off Cord’s lap.

“Don’t do this, Cord. Please. Not like this.”

Cord swallowed around the fist-size lump in his throat and ignored the tears shining on Jolie’s cheeks and the plea in her voice. Her anger had leached out, leaving only sadness. “There’s something you should know, CJ. I’m your—”

“Cord, no!” Jolie’s anger was back, and it prickled his skin like dozens of needle pricks.

“Dammit, Jolie—”

“Uh-oh. You aren’t s’posed to say that word.”

Cord absently rubbed CJ’s back as he controlled his own anger. “Yeah. I know, bubba. I’ll have to start a swear jar for when I forget and say words like that in front of you.”

“A swear jar?”

“Yup. Whenever you or I say a bad word, we’ll have to put money in the jar. To remind us not to say them.”

CJ cut his eyes to his mom and lowered his voice to a loud whisper. “Am I gonna see you again?”

“We have to go, CJ.”

Jolie stood rooted about four feet away, as if afraid to approach. Probably a good idea. Not that Cord would physically harm her. He didn’t hit women. But damn if he didn’t want to hurt her as badly as she’d hurt him. She’d eviscerated him, spilling his heart and guts right there on the sidewalk for everyone to see.

“No.”

She blinked at his cold command and opened her mouth to argue.

“I’m his father. CJ’s coming with us.”

CJ whipped his head around to stare, his brow crinkled. He mouthed the word father but Cord mostly ignored the boy, his gaze fixed on Jolie.

“The hell you say.” She bore down on him now, a tiger mama ready to rip his head off.

“Bad mommy. You aren’t s’posed to say those words, either!” CJ chortled and clapped his hands, oblivious to the tension among the adults. “She has to put money in the swear jar, too, right?” He blinked, long dark lashes shadowing brown eyes so reminiscent of Cord’s own. Looking shy, he gazed up. “Right? Uh...” He patted Cord’s cheek again to get his attention. “Are you my daddy?”

Cord felt the word deep in his chest as CJ uttered it and something shifted—something both fierce and tender.

“Absolutely, pardner.” He glared at Jolie, daring her to continue the fight.

She wasn’t about to back down. “C’mon, CJ.”

“But, Mommy,” he whined, digging in his heels by wrapping his legs around one of Cord’s legs and pulling against her grip. “I want strawberry shortcake.”

“Not today. We’re going home.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Jolie. Not until this is settled.”

Her gaze whipped to meet Cord’s, and then skittered away from the seething anger in his expression.

“Cord, let them go. Cassie can drop me at the office and take you home. I’ll get a writ of habeas corpus drawn up along with a request for a paternity test and file them this afternoon.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Jolie barely managed to utter her outraged words.

Chance’s mouth thinned into a disapproving grimace. “Damn straight I would.” He ruffled CJ’s hair after Cassie glared and elbowed him. “And I’ll put my dollar in the swear jar, too, bubba.”

“Everyone should step back a little and take a deep breath,” Cassie urged. “And Chance is right. We need to take this someplace more private.” Her hands lifted in a fluttery gesture to indicate the curious stares from people passing by.

Cord didn’t care if they were being filmed for a segment on the ten o’clock news, but his sister-in-law had a point. “Yeah, good idea, Cass.”

Chance glanced at Cassie. “Darlin’, would you get them to pack up a strawberry shortcake to go?” He winked at CJ as Cass ducked back inside the restaurant. “Are you sure we can’t move this to my office?”

Jolie bowed up like a half-broke mustang, and Cord worked to school his expression. She always did run toward hot tempered.

“And give you Barrons home court advantage? I don’t think so. I’ll tell ya what. Let’s go to my dad’s office. We can talk there.” She folded her arms just under her breasts, plumping them under the misshapen scrubs she wore.

Cord sucked in a breath. This woman had always had power over him. From the first moment he’d laid eyes on her standing at the top of the stairs in high school.

“I don’t care where the he—” He glanced down at CJ and bit off the word. “The heck we go. I want this settled, and settled now.”

“Now? After all these years you’re in an all-fired hurry to settle it now?”

“Since I just learned I had a son less than ten minutes ago, yeah, Jolie. I’m in a big hurry to settle it now.”

Jolie jammed her fists against her hips. Cord had to remember to breathe. Her cheeks were flushed and her green eyes sparked. The best sex they’d had was makeup sex after their fights. There’d been many. He’d forgotten that. The passage of time had smoothed over those memories so only the good ones stood out. But man, those particular bad times were so good!

Gesturing down the street toward the bank on the next corner, Chance suggested adjourning to the conference room there. Cord had to stifle a laugh. His brother was being such a sneaky lawyer; the bank belonged to Barron Enterprises. Not exactly neutral territory. He could live with that. He needed every advantage, especially since he felt as if his world had tilted on its axis. At Jolie’s nod, Chance pulled out his cell and made a call.

Cassie appeared with a foam box and winked at CJ. “So what’s the plan?”

“We’re going to the bank to use the conference room.” Chance gripped the handles of Cord’s wheelchair and started pushing.

Giggling, CJ squirmed so he was sitting facing forward. “Make it go fast?”

“No,” all four adults answered simultaneously.

Once they were inside the bank, Cassie disappeared into the break room with CJ in tow. When Jolie followed, ready to argue, Cassie showed some of her own temper.

“Good grief. The kid is going to eat his strawberry shortcake in here. Do you seriously want him listening to the two of you slinging mud at each other? Really?”

There was a reason Cord loved his sister-in-law. She didn’t take crap from anyone. Not his brothers, not Chance and definitely not his father. As he watched, some of the starch wilted out of Jolie, especially when Cass reached over to touch her arm.

“Look, Jolie, I get why you’re nervous. I promise I’m just going to sit with him. We’ll both be here when y’all get through talking. Okay?”

Jolie blinked several times, inhaled deeply and relaxed. “Okay.”

And that was that. Jolie pivoted and marched toward the conference room door, where Chance and Cord were waiting. She brushed past them and a wisp of sweet mimosa scent followed in her wake. Cord had to shift in the chair to ease the fullness pressing against his zipper. He inhaled shallowly, but her scent still perfumed the air. He needed his head clear to deal with this situation.

On one level, he was so angry he wanted to punch something. But on another, the twisty, bendy parts of his psyche were plotting ways to use the fact they had a son together to his advantage. He wanted Jolie. He always had. Now he had leverage.

“I need some space.” Cord stared at Chance.

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Get out, Chance. I want to talk to Jolie. Alone.”

His brother wasn’t very happy, as evidenced by the tense set of his shoulders and grim expression, but Chance did as he asked and vacated the conference room. Once they were alone and he was positive Chance didn’t linger at the door to eavesdrop, Cord studied Jolie. She looked nervous. Defensive. And, oh, yeah, there was a healthy dose of guilt, too. That was good.

“What do you want, Cord?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious.”

“Well, it’s not.”

“I want to work things out. Between us. And I want something else, Jolie. Space.”

* * *

Jolie watched Cord closely, waiting for the rest of his demands, but air escaped from her lungs in a soft whoosh of relief regardless. She could handle space between them. “Okay. Yeah. I guess that’s a good thing.”

When she’d first run into Cord at the restaurant, Jolie had never been so angry in her life. Despite moving back to Oklahoma City, despite harboring some romantic notion that Cord might have changed and that they might grab a second chance, she knew it to be the pipe dream of a naive girl. She no longer had stars in her eyes. She was a mother. And a darned good one. She’d brought CJ into this world all by herself and she’d taken care of him. All. By. Herself. She didn’t need Cord Barron. And she didn’t want him to have a place in CJ’s life.

Then she felt fear. Seeing her son sitting there in Cord’s lap had panicked her. The Barrons were just as powerful as her father. Why had she been stupid enough to come home? It was inevitable that this would happen, and she’d been an idiot to believe otherwise.

But now it looked as if Cord was willing to give her some breathing room.

“I don’t think you understand.” Something hard glinted in Cord’s eyes, a flash as bright and inevitable as lightning in a summer thunderstorm. “I want time, Jolie. Time with CJ. And the space to get to know him on my terms.”

Was it possible to sweat icicles? To be so hot and cold at the same time? Jolie stared at him, the word no already forming on her lips.

“Do you really want to drag him through the court system?”

She sputtered and had to breathe through the surge of anger. “You’d do that to him?”

“To see my son? To spend time with him? To be acknowledged as his father? Damn straight I would. You’ve already cheated me out of so much, Jolie. You don’t want to deny me this.”

She forced her fingers to loosen from the fists they’d formed without her knowledge as she considered Cord’s threat. The planes of his face looked as if they’d been carved from the alabaster stone that formed amid the red dirt of Western Oklahoma.

“I want to get to know my son. To make up for the parts of his life you stole from me.”

Her eyes burned with a hot flush of tears, but she blinked them away. Straightening her shoulders, she pasted on her best poker face. “No.”

Cord did nothing except raise one eyebrow as if to say, “Really, Jolie? You truly want to do this?” He wore the mask well but he looked so pale, so...wounded. He’d almost died from his injuries, but now she knew without a doubt that she’d ripped out his heart. Just as he’d ripped out hers.

Five

Cord didn’t argue with Jolie. He rolled to the door, opened it and maneuvered his wheelchair out. Chance was leaning against the wall nearby but straightened immediately.

“What’s the plan?”

Cord lifted his chin to indicate Jolie was right behind him and Chance offered an almost imperceptible nod. They’d talk later, and Cord would lay out his plan then. His brother knew him well and didn’t press for an answer to his question.

Jolie huffed to a stop behind him, unable to squeeze around the chair without bumping into him. He stifled the smile threatening to reveal his thoughts. She’d thrown down the gauntlet, and he’d picked it up without hesitation.

Giggles drew his attention as his sister-in-law and CJ appeared at the end of the hall. The boy stomped toward them, stopping in front of Chance.

Rearing his head back, hands fisted on his hips, CJ stared up. “Who’re you?”

“My name is Chance. I’m your—” He glanced at Cord before shifting his gaze to Jolie. “Your dad and I are brothers.”

“What’s that mean, Mommy?”

Jolie’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“But, Mommy—”

“He’s your uncle, CJ. Okay?”

“Okay. Do I have more?”

“You do.” Cord replied before Jolie could. “Besides Chance, there’s Clay, Cash and Chase.”

“Are they all grown-ups?”

“Yup.”

CJ sighed and offered puppy-dog eyes. “Are there any other kids?”

Jolie choked, and Cord wondered if he’d have to perform the Heimlich maneuver, but then remembered he couldn’t stand up to administer it. Instead, he grinned at the boy but watched Jolie’s face. “Just you, CJ, but maybe your mom and I could work on that for you. Maybe a little sister.” Oh, yeah, that got a rise out of her. He glanced back at his son.

His son—and wasn’t that a kick in the pants—screwed up his face as if he’d just taken a swig of lemon juice. “No girls. Girls are yucky.” CJ had the good graces to glance up at his mother and then over at Cassie. “Well...some girls are okay. Like Mommy and Miss Cassie.”

Jolie’s face turned red, and had they been in the cartoons, steam would be hissing from her ears. He’d forgotten how much fun it was to push her buttons.

Without pausing for breath or giving his mother a chance to respond, CJ launched into his next subject. “Miss Cassie has horses. Do you have horses...uh...?” At a loss for what to call him, CJ’s voice trailed off.

“I do have horses, bubba. And you can ride them whenever you want.” He reached for the boy and tugged him a little closer. “Not sure what to call me, right?” Big eyed, CJ nodded. “Well, Dad works. Or Daddy. Whatever you’d like.”

“Daddy. I like that.”

Jolie made a strangled noise and reached for CJ, but Cord ignored her. “I like that too, bubba.”

“We have to go, CJ.” Jolie was about to snap, judging by her tone of voice and expression.

“No. I wanna stay with Daddy.”

Shoving the wheelchair out of her way, she took CJ’s arm. “No. Not today.” She glared at Cord, her expression promising retribution with a big dose of “not now, not ever.”

Cord figured he had to be the most perverse man who ever lived, because fighting with Jolie had been something he missed. A lot. Forget the makeup sex that came after. There was something...exhilarating about seeing her color rise, her fists tighten and her stubborn chin jut toward him as her eyes flashed like broken glass under a hot summer sun.

“No. Not today,” he agreed easily. “Tomorrow.” He smiled at her but caught Chance rolling his eyes. His brother was extremely familiar with his expression and the tone of voice.

“Cord.” She clenched CJ’s hand.

“Jolie.”

“We’re leaving.”

“I’m not stopping you, Jolie. But I will see CJ tomorrow. I’ll send Chance to pick him up, bring him out to the ranch.”

“No.”

Cord shrugged as if her resistance meant nothing. It stung, but that didn’t matter. Not in the long run. “You know what the alternative is.”

“You’re bluffing.”

A rolling gasp of laughter escaped from his chest and exploded out of his mouth. “Then, you don’t know me at all, Jolene. Have him ready by nine. If he’s not, Chance’s next stop will be the courthouse.”

“Which it’ll also be if the two of you aren’t home, Jolene.” Chance just had to butt in, but Cord had known he would and had counted on it.

He tuned out Jolie’s blustering and smiled at CJ. “Wish I wasn’t in this chair, bubba, but I’ll still show you some of our horses, and if you want to ride, our foreman, Kaden, will help you.” He tousled the boy’s hair. “Okay?”

“Okay!” CJ launched into his arms and Cord had to blink back the sting of tears. Barrons didn’t cry, but damned if he didn’t want to. He had a son. And he had the woman he loved, even though she didn’t realize she was his. Yet.

* * *

Jolie seethed and just barely managed to contain her anger. She wanted to beat her fists against the steering wheel but CJ was strapped into his car seat behind her and could see her face in the rearview mirror.

How dare Cordell Barron swoop into her life and steal her son away? There was no way on God’s green earth she would let the Barrons sink their claws into CJ. She needed to call her dad. He had a whole firm of high-priced lawyers at his beck and call. They could file an injunction or something. Make sure Cord wasn’t allowed anywhere near her or CJ.

She suddenly went cold, as if a bucket of rainwater had been dumped over her head. Was her reaction about CJ? Or her? Not long ago, she’d fantasized about rekindling a relationship with Cord. Some fantasy! The reality of the man—the truth of what it would mean to share her son with him—hit her square in the heart. She couldn’t do it. But the alternative meant hurting CJ. She’d have to figure out some way to deal with the situation without getting her heart—or her son’s—broken.

She glanced in the rearview mirror and recognized the stubborn tilt of her son’s chin. It was about the only thing he’d inherited from her. “How about we stop and buy a movie on the way home?”

“No.”

Yes, her son’s temperament hit a little too close to home. “But you want to see that new—”

“No. I’m mad at you, Mommy.”

“Fine.” Oh, great. Now she was getting snippy with a four-year-old.

“Fine,” he snipped back.

When they got home, dinner and bath time were a battle. CJ refused to watch TV with her, holing up in his room instead. When she went in to offer a bedtime story, he crawled into bed, turned his back and ignored her.

Out of sorts, she sprawled on the overstuffed couch in the area her Realtor called a media room. Some inane romantic comedy laugh tracked its way across the giant TV screen affixed to the wall. The thing had come with the house and there were times she enjoyed it. Tonight, not so much. Pushing off the couch, Jolie paced around the room, her thoughts as chaotic as the storm clouds gathering outside. Deep down, she knew she didn’t have a legal leg to stand on. She couldn’t prove Cord meant to harm CJ. She couldn’t ding him for lack of child support because he hadn’t known he was a father.

Her earlier conversation with her father as she was preparing dinner had been short, to the point and disappointing. And now she was mad at him because he seemed to be taking Cord’s side. Then again, he’d always gotten biblical with her.

“You reap what you sow,” he’d told her on numerous occasions, quickly followed up with his belief that she was wrong for not telling Cord about CJ. Tonight, he’d told her he’d hire an attorney to represent her in the paternity suit they were both sure Cord would file.

Could she really do that to CJ? Drag him through the newspapers, because they darn sure would glom onto the story—the legitimate press and the tabloids. Possible headlines flashed across her thoughts and none of them were pretty.

“Argh!” She wanted to hit something. Or throw something against the wall—something that would crash and break into a million pieces. She had no choice. She needed an attorney so the Barrons couldn’t run roughshod over her, but she would have to let Cord see her son. Her son. Not his. She’d dealt with the three months of morning sickness. She’d brought CJ into the world with no help from the Barrons. She’d dealt with his colic, teething, earaches and everything else. All by herself.