Curious as to why everyone’s attention had been caught so completely, Kit glanced over her shoulder, checking out the newcomer as he closed the door.

It only took her a moment to recognize the tall, dark, handsome man, his curly black hair a shade too long, his bright blue eyes vivid in his tanned face.

So, too, it seemed, did all local residents in the diner. Hearty greetings echoed around the room as one of Belle’s most favored sons moved slowly down the diner’s center aisle, a charmingly boyish grin on his smoothly shaven face.

Standing all but frozen to the spot, her hands clenched at her sides, Kit eyed him with a growing sense of dread. In that instant she wanted more than anything to take Nathan from his playpen and hurry out the back door of the diner just as quickly as she could.

Her more sensible self knew that taking such action would be foolhardy, though.

She could run from Simon Gilmore now, but she wouldn’t be able to hide from him forever.

Dear Reader,

It’s that time of year again—back to school! And even if you’ve left your classroom days far behind you, if you’re like me, September brings with it the quest for everything new, especially books! We at Silhouette Special Edition are happy to fulfill that jones, beginning with Home on the Ranch by Allison Leigh, another in her bestselling MEN OF THE DOUBLE-C series. Though the Buchanans and the Days had been at odds for years, a single Buchanan rancher—Cage—would do anything to help his daughter learn to walk again, including hiring the only reliable physical therapist around. Even if her last name did happen to be Day….

Next, THE PARKS EMPIRE continues with Judy Duarte’s The Rich Man’s Son, in which a wealthy Parks scion, suffering from amnesia, winds up living the country life with a single mother and her baby boy. And a man passing through town notices more than the passing resemblance between himself and newly adopted infant of the local diner waitress, in The Baby They Both Loved by Nikki Benjamin. In A Father’s Sacrifice by Karen Sandler, a man determined to do the right thing insists that the mother of his child marry him, and finds love in the bargain. And a woman’s search for the truth about her late father leads her into the arms of a handsome cowboy determined to give her the life her dad had always wanted for her, in A Texas Tale by Judith Lyons. Last, a man with a new face revisits the ranch—and the woman—that used to be his. Only, the woman he’d always loved was no longer alone. Now she was accompanied by a five-year-old girl…with very familiar blue eyes….

Enjoy, and come back next month for six complex and satisfying romances, all from Silhouette Special Edition!

Gail Chasan

Senior Editor

The Baby They Both Loved
Nikki Benjamin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

NIKKI BENJAMIN

was born and raised in the Midwest, but after years in the Houston area, she considers herself a true Texan. Nikki says she’s always been an avid reader. (Her earliest literary heroines were Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden and Beany Malone.) Her writing experience was limited, however, until a friend started penning a novel and encouraged Nikki to do the same. One scene led to another, and soon she was hooked.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Chapter One

K it Davenport eyed the clock on the kitchen wall of the Dinner Belle Diner as she dumped handfuls of freshly chopped vegetables into the pot of stew meat already simmering on the six-burner stove. It was almost ten-thirty, and her part-time waitress, Bonnie Lennox, wasn’t scheduled to start work until eleven.

Normally Bonnie came in when the diner opened its doors for breakfast at seven in the morning, but that day her young daughter was graduating from kindergarten, an event Kit hadn’t wanted her to miss. Unfortunately, the diner’s crusty old cook, George Ortiz, had called to say he, too, would be late that day due to a painful flare-up of the arthritis that occasionally crippled his gnarled hands and creaky knees but never his indomitable spirit.

Handling the Dinner Belle single-handedly wasn’t a new experience for Kit. Since her mother, Dolores, had owned and operated the little diner in the small town of Belle, Montana, until her death this past December, Kit had literally grown up there. So early in the tourist season, with nearby Glacier National Park’s Logan’s Pass not yet open to vehicular traffic, the breakfast crowd, made up mostly of locals she knew on a first-name basis, had also been relatively undemanding.

Kit had been able to take orders, fry eggs, flip pancakes, bus tables and wash dishes without a problem. But getting a head start on the lunch specials she and George had agreed upon for that Tuesday afternoon had been a bit of a challenge. Following even the simplest of her mother’s recipes involved a lot more time and mental energy than she had to spare, especially when she also had to keep an eye on her two-year-old godson, Nathan Kane.

Though easily entertained by the constant activity going on all around him, as the morning wore on the little boy had been growing more and more unhappy with his confinement in the playpen she had set up for him in a corner by the counter.

Taking a peek at the pans of lasagna, a Dinner Belle favorite, baking in the double oven, Kit made a mental note to start defrosting the loaves of garlic bread still in the freezer. But first she had another breakfast plate to serve up. She slid the eggs out of the cast-iron skillet, added several rashers of bacon, a scoop of hash-brown potatoes and two freshly baked biscuits, then made a beeline for the kitchen doorway.

“Just a little longer, sweet boy,” she cooed to Nathan, shooting a smile his way as she hurried past the playpen.

He called after her in his own special brand of gibberish, his high, young voice more aggrieved than it had been the last time she’d walked through the kitchen doorway. He also waved his favorite stuffed teddy bear at her in an attempt to draw her attention to him rather than her customers. She didn’t dare stop to acknowledge the gesture, though. That would only cause his fussiness to escalate another notch.

“He’s such a good child,” Winifred Averill commented as Kit set the plate on the elderly woman’s table. “Shame about his momma, but that Lucy Kane always was a wild thing. Lucky for her she had you for a friend. Otherwise there’s no telling what might have happened to that little boy.”

“Yes, ma’am, Nathan is a good child,” Kit agreed, trying not to bristle at Winifred’s judgmental tone. She was well into her eighties, had lived her entire life in the small town of Belle and hadn’t ever had a shy bone in her body. Her tendency toward plainspokenness could often be unsettling, but she had never been intentionally malicious. “And I was the lucky one to have had Lucy for my friend. She brightened my life with her fun-loving ways, and she truly cared about Nathan. I was honored when she asked me to be his godmother and named me as his guardian in her will.”

“Hard to believe how his daddy’s shirked all responsibility, and him coming from such a fine family, not to mention seeming like such a fine young man himself.”

“Yes, it is hard to believe,” Kit replied.

“Too bad he can’t grow up here in Belle. But you were never as happy in this little town as your momma, or his momma, for that matter. Always had a yen for the big city, didn’t you, Miss Kit?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You were dead set on going away to college and you found a way to do it. Won a scholarship, got your undergraduate degree, then started working on a master’s degree, your momma said. Majoring in psychology so you could listen to folks talk about their problems. Just like your momma did here at the Dinner Belle, and she didn’t need any fancy college degree to give good advice. “Chuckling softly, Winifred Averill stirred her eggs into her potatoes, adding, “I sure am going to miss this place when you close up at the end of the summer.”

“I’m hoping to have a buyer before then so closing up won’t be necessary. In fact, I’ve already had a few inquiries,” Kit said.

Two, to be exact, and neither couple had pursued their interest in the diner beyond an initial inquiry. But she wasn’t about to set Mrs. Averill off again by admitting as much aloud.

Kit didn’t want to have to close the Dinner Belle for good. But neither did she want to give up the life she’d made for herself in Seattle to run a diner in a small Montana town for the rest of her God-given days. She had gladly taken a leave from her graduate studies at the University of Washington to help out at home when her mother first became ill, and she had stayed on after her mother’s death for the sole purpose of keeping the diner going until it could be sold. Then Lucy had been killed in a tragic accident on an icy back road, and suddenly Kit had also had a precious little boy to raise all on her own.

“Couple of years ago I would have bought the place myself,” Winifred continued, interrupting Kit’s reverie. “But I don’t have as much energy now as I did when I was eighty-five.”

“That’s understandable, ma’am.” Kit hid a smile as she met the woman’s gaze. “Would you like more coffee?”

“Just a smidgen to warm up my cup, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all.”

As Kit turned to get the coffeepot from the warmer behind the counter, the tinkle of the little bell on the diner’s front door announced the arrival of another customer. Likely just another local, she thought, eager to refill Mrs. Averill’s coffee cup and get back to the kitchen.

She hadn’t gone very far when the murmur of voices among the other customers sitting in the diner stilled, and into the silence Winifred Averill’s voice rang out, loud and clear.

“Well, well, well…speak of the devil,” she said, sounding not only amazed, but also quite pleased.

Curious as to why everyone’s attention had been caught so completely, not to mention what had prompted Winifred’s comment, Kit glanced over her shoulder, checking out the newcomer as he closed the door, then paused a long moment to survey the friendly faces turned his way.

It took Kit only a moment to recognize the tall, dark, handsome man, his curly black hair a shade too long, his bright blue eyes vivid in his tanned face, not a spare ounce of fat on his rangy body. So, too, it seemed, did all the local residents in the diner. Hearty greetings echoed around the room, accompanied by handshakes here and there, as one of Belle’s most favored sons moved slowly down the diner’s center aisle, a charmingly boyish grin on his smoothly shaven face.

Simon Gilmore took his own sweet time responding to one and all in a low voice laced with good humor. Standing near Winifred Averill’s table, all but frozen to the spot, her hands clenched at her sides, Kit eyed him with a growing sense of dread. In that instant she wanted more than anything to take Nathan from his playpen and hurry out the back door of the diner just as quickly as she could.

Her more sensible self knew that taking such action would be foolhardy, though. She could run from Simon Gilmore now, but she wouldn’t be able to hide from him forever. Behaving in a cowardly manner would only give him a weapon he could use against her. And, she reminded herself as she took a steadying breath, he could very well have any number of reasons for returning to Belle that didn’t involve Nathan Kane.

Three years ago, Simon hadn’t been able to get out of town fast enough when he’d found out Lucy was pregnant. And he hadn’t been back since. More importantly, neither he nor his wealthy parents had ever acknowledged their relationship to the little boy. They hadn’t contributed to his support while Lucy was alive. And in the three months since her death, neither Mitchell and Deanna, owners of one of the largest and most prosperous cattle ranches in the state, nor their only child, Simon, had come forward to claim the little boy.

There was Lucy’s last will and testament to consider, as well. She had wanted Kit to be the one to raise her child should she be unable to do so herself, and in a surprising act for one normally so happy-go-lucky, she had stated as much in her will.

Although Kit’s formal adoption of Nathan had yet to be finalized by the court, as far as she was concerned, he was already her child in every way that counted. Anyone who tried to take him away from her—including Simon Gilmore—would be in for a fight.

No amount of determination could completely overcome the shock of seeing Simon again, however. The steely core of resolution that had developed deep within her over the years wouldn’t allow Kit to be intimidated by him. But at the same time she couldn’t deny a lingering sense of vulnerability toward him—a vulnerability firmly rooted in the past.

Lucy hadn’t been the only one attracted to Simon Gilmore all those years ago. But the memory of how Simon had toyed with her best friend’s affection on and off for several years, only to dump her unceremoniously when he found out she was carrying his child, was all Kit needed to gather her scattered wits about her. With a grim twist of her lips, she straightened her spine, unwilling to be intimidated by someone so callow and insensitive.

Almost upon her, Simon finally met her gaze for the first time since he’d entered the diner. He stopped dead and did a double take that Kit would have actually found amusing under other circumstances. Then he moved toward her with a determined glint in his eyes, his grin suddenly wolfish.

Her stomach fluttering unnaturally, Kit stared at him, her mind suddenly muddled, unable to move or to speak.

Halting again only inches from her, Simon put his hands on her shoulders and drew her even closer.

“Well, hey, Miss Kit Davenport…what a surprise to see you here, and a damned nice one, too,” he said, his deep voice shooting up an octave in seemingly honest amazement. “I do believe I’ve missed your pretty face, little darling.”

Then, to Kit’s utter dismay, Simon Gilmore bent his head and kissed her smack on the mouth as if they were long lost lovers blissfully meeting again. And so shocked was she that for just the merest instant her eyes closed instinctively and she almost, almost, kissed him back.

Only Winifred Averill’s delighted cackle saved Kit from demeaning herself that completely. Going rigid, she jerked her head back at the same time she put her hands on Simon’s chest and shoved him forcefully away.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice low, making no attempt at all to hide her anger. “Just don’t do that, okay?”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he hastened to say, the look on his face now one of confusion as he tucked his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t mean any harm. It’s just so good to see you again, Kit. I guess I got a little carried away.”

“No harm done,” she replied in a calmer, slightly conciliatory tone as she took another step away from him. Not quite able to meet his gaze, she added, “You just caught me off guard.”

She didn’t want to cause any more of a scene in front of Winifred Averill and the other locals than she already had. Nor did she want to behave toward Simon in an overtly hostile manner. She couldn’t afford to make an enemy of him until she knew exactly why he’d returned to Belle.

“I apologize,” he said meekly enough, though his smile was wholly unrepentant. “It’s just so good to see you again. Are you helping out at the diner for the summer, or just making a quick visit home?”

Doing her best to ignore the obvious appreciation in his bright blue eyes as he looked her up and down, not to mention her own womanly response to him, Kit considered instead the question he’d asked. Hadn’t Simon heard about her mother’s death? And if he didn’t know about Dolores’s death, was it possible he didn’t know about Lucy’s death, either?

It was, Kit realized. His parents traveled a lot, especially during the winter months. In fact, she couldn’t remember seeing them around town much after the holidays. Although she had run into Mitchell Gilmore at the hardware store about a week ago, and she’d had Nathan with her then.

Never one to believe in coincidence, Kit had to fight the urge to look over at the playpen sitting in a corner near the counter. Instead she directed her gaze Simon’s way, trying not to seem either completely welcoming or unwelcoming toward him.

“I’m here for the summer,” she said, then gestured to an empty table, hoping to ward off any more questions. He could catch up on the latest news when he got to the Double Bar S. “Why don’t you have a seat and take a look at the menu while I bring you some coffee?”

“I’d rather sit at the counter if you don’t mind.”

“Suit yourself.”

Kit shrugged and turned away, but not before she saw Simon’s smile fade, and a puzzled look replace the admiration that had brightened his brilliant blue eyes.

As he slouched onto one of the stools, Kit moved behind the counter. She still didn’t dare to risk a glance in Nathan’s direction for fear she would direct Simon’s interest that way, as well. She couldn’t hide the little boy from him forever, but there was no sense doing anything to stir the pot any sooner than absolutely necessary.

“What can I get for you?” she asked, adopting a matter-of-fact tone.

“Coffee, please,” he requested, then added with the barest hint of sarcasm, “but only if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Kit replied.

Taking the coffeepot from the warmer, Kit remembered guiltily that she’d said the same thing to Winifred Averill and had yet to refill the elderly woman’s cup. But then, Mrs. Averill had probably been so entertained by Kit’s exchange with Simon that she hadn’t even noticed.

“Do you want to order breakfast, too?”

Trying to sound a little friendlier, she set a sturdy white china mug on the counter. She wanted Simon out of the diner as soon as possible, but she was afraid that she’d rouse his suspicion if she acted too much out of character.

“No, thanks. Just coffee will do. I’m expected at the ranch before noon, but I couldn’t drive through town without stopping here first.” He paused a moment and looked around the diner, a thoughtful expression on his face. “This place sure does bring back a lot of good memories.”

“I’m sure it does,” Kit agreed, unable to avoid injecting a note of sarcasm into her tone.

Turning away, she grabbed the handle of a freshly brewed pot of coffee and a couple of packets of creamer. She tossed the packets on the counter and tipped the pot to fill Simon’s mug.

At the same instant, Nathan let out a mighty squall of discontent, signaling that he’d had just about as much time in the playpen as he could handle. Startled, Kit splashed hot coffee on the counter, barely missing Simon’s hand. A moment of silence settled over the diner, followed by a ripple of laughter among the customers still left there, most of whom were used to Nathan’s occasional and understandable demands for attention.

“Sorry,” Kit murmured, taking a damp cloth from under the counter.

As she mopped up the mess she’d made, she watched Simon surreptitiously from under her lowered lashes. He had been as startled as she by the child’s cry, and quite naturally he had looked over at the playpen, seeming to notice it for the first time since he’d sat at the counter.

Initially, the expression on his face was one of curiosity. But then his features shifted, reflecting surprise, and then genuine confusion.

It was one thing to see a little boy standing in a playpen, in a place where you’d never seen one in the past, waving a teddy bear at you. It was something else altogether to see a little boy with silky black curls and brilliant blue eyes—a little boy who was, obviously and undeniably, a much smaller, much younger image of your very own self.

Kit clutched the coffee-soaked cloth in both hands, now staring openly at Simon as the color drained from his face. He made a sound, low in his throat and unintelligible to her ears. Finally he shifted his gaze to her once again. Still seemingly bewildered, he stared at her wordlessly for several interminable seconds.

To Kit, the resemblance between father and son was impossible to miss. Yet Simon didn’t seem to get the connection. Or maybe he just didn’t want to get it, she thought with a hot flash of anger.

“So, Kit, you’ve had a new addition to your family?” he asked at last, an odd croak in his voice as he gestured in Nathan’s general direction.

“In a way, yes,” Kit replied, barely managing to hide her annoyance.

He had to be in deep denial to think Nathan was her biological child. That kiss on the lips he’d given her a few minutes ago was the closest she had ever gotten to having sex with him. How could he possibly think she’d produced a child who looked just like him?

“The little boy in the playpen is your son, then,” he said, visibly relaxing as he sat back on his stool.

“He is now.”

“What do you mean by that? Is he your son or isn’t he?” Again, Simon seemed confused and just a little exasperated.

Her anger flaring once more, Kit directed a hard look Simon’s way. He just didn’t get it—more likely didn’t want to get it. But eventually he would, now that he was back in town.

Though Lucy had never broadcast the identity of Nathan’s father, once Nathan had begun to develop distinctive features it was clear that the baby could, in fact, be Simon’s. It wouldn’t take long for someone to yank Simon out of his blissful, self-indulgent ignorance. Disgusted as she was with him, Kit didn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t be that someone.

“Nathan is my son now,” she said again. “But Lucy Kane was his birth mother. Unfortunately, she was killed in an automobile accident at the end of February. I’m his legal guardian and I’ve been taking care of him ever since.” She took a deep breath, trying to shake the nervous quiver from her voice. “I’ve also taken the necessary steps to adopt him, and according to my attorney, Isaac Woodrow, the court will likely approve my petition within the next few weeks.”

“That little boy is Lucy Kane’s son?” Simon repeated slowly.

His astonishment was more than evident as his gaze shifted from Kit to Nathan, then back to Kit again. She doubted he had heard what she’d said about the adoption.

“Yes, he’s Lucy’s son.”

“But Lucy was killed in an automobile accident in February?”

Simon repeated her words yet again, appearing to be even more stunned.

“She was out late at night, heading home from a party at a house on Flat Head Lake. Her car hit a patch of black ice. She skidded off the road and hit a tree.

Simon looked as if he’d been dealt a physical blow. His face paled even more as he gripped the counter with both hands. Undeniable anguish shadowed his vivid blue eyes. He seemed to be not only stunned, but also badly shaken as his gaze shifted to Nathan yet again.

He tried to speak and failed. Then, without another word to Kit, he pushed away from the counter, turned on his heel and strode to the front door of the diner. He paused there, head bent and shoulders slumped, his hand on the knob. Finally, he glanced back at Nathan one last time. Then he opened the door and walked out.

Kit wasn’t sure how she had expected Simon to respond to her revelations. Listening to the echo of the door slamming shut, she knew only that the pain shadowing his gaze in those last moments before he’d left hadn’t been feigned. In fact, the honesty of his anguish had taken her totally and completely by surprise.

She had already acknowledged the possibility that he hadn’t heard about Lucy’s death. And considering his past history with her, Kit had assumed the news would cause him at least a small measure of dismay. But the look on his face had revealed a much deeper torment.

How could that possibly be when he had abandoned Lucy almost three years ago, then hadn’t shown the least bit of interest in her welfare or that of his child any time since?

In fact, Simon’s reaction had been more in line with that of a man who had not only just discovered that he had a son, but also that the love of his life had died. That level of devastation didn’t make the least bit of sense to Kit. She knew that Lucy had told Simon she was pregnant. Lucy had said as much to Kit three years ago. And instead of providing for Lucy and the baby, Simon had left her to cope alone.

How could he now act like the injured party? It just didn’t make any sense.

And, of course, he would walk away without a single word of explanation. Although that particular response wasn’t quite as surprising to Kit as it could have been. He had walked away from his responsibilities once already, and he had stayed away three long years.

Only this time Kit had a feeling Simon Gilmore wasn’t going to disappear completely. There had been something about the look in his eyes before he’d finally left the diner that had warned her he would be back again. He would want to think before he acted, but when he acted—

“So the prodigal son has come back to town, and about time, too,” Winifred Averill said as she stepped up to the counter. “Can’t say I’m surprised. ’Course, he didn’t stick around here very long once he caught sight of the youngster, did he?”

“Not very long at all,” Kit agreed.

Drawn from her reverie, she tossed the damp cloth into the sink under the counter and crossed to the cash register to ring up the elderly woman’s bill.

“Sorry I never got back to your table with the coffeepot.”

“I didn’t really need any more caffeine. I’m jittery enough as it is. Anyway, you had your hands full.” Mrs. Averill chuckled as she dug her coin purse from the pocket of her denim jacket.

“Yes, actually I did.”

“I expect he’ll be back soon enough. Best you be prepared,” the elderly woman advised with a knowing look, as she paid her bill.

The ding of the bell over the diner’s front door as Winifred turned away from the counter had Kit looking up with apprehension. She knew she would have to face Simon again eventually, but she had hoped it wouldn’t be quite so soon.

To her relief, it was Bonnie Lennox, her friend and part-time waitress, who sailed into the diner, her blond curls bouncing on her shoulders, her brown eyes bright and cheerful.

“Hello, all,” Bonnie called out.

The few remaining customers sent out a chorus of greetings, while Mrs. Averill gave her a friendly pat on the arm as she passed by on her way out. Kit shot her friend a grateful smile, then crossed to the playpen, scooped Nathan into her arms and gave him a hug.

“Busy morning?” Bonnie asked as she grabbed a red apron from the hook just inside the kitchen doorway and tied it over her denim skirt and navy T-shirt.

“Not too bad. How was Allison’s graduation?”

“She looked so cute in her little cap and gown, and she won an award for best artwork.” Bonnie’s grin couldn’t have been any prouder, but then a worried frown creased her forehead as her expression turned serious. “I thought I saw Simon Gilmore sitting in a black SUV parked at the curb half a block down the street. Were my eyes deceiving me, or has he dared to show his handsome face in town again?”

“Oh, he’s definitely back in town. In fact, he was just in the Dinner Belle a few minutes ago,” Kit said.

“And?” Bonnie prompted, eyeing Kit with obvious dismay.

“He didn’t know about Lucy.”

“Did he see Nathan?”

“Yes, he saw Nathan, but he seemed really…shocked. Like he didn’t know his own son existed.”

“How could that possibly be?”

“I don’t honestly know. But the way he acted today didn’t jibe at all with the way Lucy said he acted three years ago.”

“What did he say?” Bonnie asked.

“Not a lot,” Kit replied. “Mostly he just asked questions. He seemed surprised by my answers, too. Very surprised. But he didn’t offer an explanation of any kind. He just got up and left without a word.”

“Do you think he’ll cause a problem with Nathan’s adoption?”

“I don’t know,” Kit answered, averting her gaze as she headed back to the kitchen, Bonnie trailing after her in sympathetic silence.

Only she had a feeling—a bad feeling—that she did know, and what she knew had her holding on to Nathan just a little tighter and with a lot more anxiety than she ever had before.

Chapter Two

S everal realizations spun out one after another in Simon Gilmore’s mind, rolling and tumbling into a stunning confusion of incredibly unbelievable information. Time ticked away slowly, one minute to the next, but he couldn’t stir himself to do anything more than sit at the steering wheel of his shiny new SUV and stare out the windshield, his gaze unfocused.

With a few devastatingly simple statements, Kit Davenport had turned his blissful little world upside down. Seeing her in the diner had triggered a youthful exuberance in him, and kissing her had seemed only natural. But then she’d brought him up to date quickly and concisely. Each of her revelations had been upsetting individually—taken altogether, the intensity of them had numbed him, heart and soul.

To hear that lovely, lively Lucy Kane had died suddenly, tragically, in an automobile accident saddened Simon deeply. Though she cut him to the quick three years ago, they had shared a lot of good times together. And lately the pain of their last parting had tempered so that the mere thought of her no longer caused his gut to twist in anguish.

He had actually been looking forward to seeing her again during his unexpected and hastily arranged trip home. Finally ready to move past her betrayal of his trust, he had hoped to gain the closure he needed to the relationship they’d once shared.

But he was never going to see Lucy Kane again, and there would be no closure for him now. Instead he found himself standing on the edge of a precipice with unforeseen and truly incredible possibilities opening out before him.

Simon had seen enough photographs of himself at an early age to know that the little boy he’d seen in the Dinner Belle Diner was his spitting image. He was also living proof that Lucy’s betrayal had been so much more deliberate and so much more despicable than he’d ever imagined.

Nathan Kane had to be the child Lucy had carried during her pregnancy three years ago. But Lucy had looked him in the eye that long-ago August night and insisted the baby wasn’t his. She had urged him—oh-so-blithely—to accept the job he’d been offered as a photojournalist for the Seattle Post following his graduation from graduate school. She had even said that he shouldn’t give her or the baby another thought because there was someone else in her life she had come to love more than him.

Had Lucy been telling him the truth as she thought she knew it? Simon wondered now. Had she really been having sex with another man that summer? She’d been so sure he wasn’t the one to get her pregnant, and he had been careful about using condoms…most of the time. Or had she lied to him intentionally?

Simon had wanted to marry Lucy three years ago and take her with him to Seattle, and Lucy had seemed to want what he wanted during those long, lazy days of their last summer together. But then she had dropped her bombshell on him. Not only was she pregnant, she was pregnant with another man’s child.

Devastated, Simon had gone away to lick his wounds, and he had stayed away till now, feigning disinterest in his hometown and the people there whenever one or the other of his parents brought up the subject.

His parents—

Muttering a curse under his breath, Simon understood at last the urgency behind his father’s insistence that he return to Belle immediately to take care of “family business.” Mitchell Gilmore hadn’t bothered to explain in detail the exact nature of the business. He had simply ordered Simon to come home at once, an order his mother, Deanna, had issued, as well, her tone holding an angry edge he’d never heard in her voice even during the most rambunctious of his teenage years.

Luckily he’d had vacation time coming—almost four weeks accumulated over the past couple of years. Traveling all over the world to shoot photographs and to write stories for the paper, he hadn’t really wanted or needed to get away from the office the way many of his fellow journalists did.

A good thing, too, he admitted now. Sorting out the situation he faced here in Belle was definitely going to take more than the week he’d originally anticipated having to spend at the ranch.

Simon had known a confrontation of some sort would be awaiting him when he arrived at the spacious, sprawling, one-story house built of cedar logs and stone twenty miles east of town. That was the main reason why he’d stopped first at the Dinner Belle Diner for a last bracing cup of coffee, a plate of eggs and bacon and a couple of Dolores Davenport’s homemade buttermilk biscuits.

No matter what news his parents had for him, he would have been better able to deal with it after a late breakfast at the diner where he’d enjoyed many similar meals since he was…well, Nathan’s age.

His thoughts turning again to the little boy who surely had to be his son, Simon finally understood the urgency and the anger he’d heard in his parents’ voices when they’d finally caught up with him two days ago. They must have only just realized themselves that the orphaned child left in Kit Davenport’s care was his son, their grandson.

And when they did, they must have assumed, as Kit so obviously had, that he had not only left Belle, but also stayed away the past three years, to avoid his responsibility to Lucy and their baby.

But that wasn’t true at all. He would have never abandoned Lucy or his child. He had fancied himself in love with her back then, and though he had since realized he’d been more infatuated with her freedom of spirit than anything else, he would have gladly married her.

She was the one who had ended their relationship, and she had done so in a way guaranteed to drive him out of her life for good.

But why had she treated him so hurtfully? Simon wondered. Had she been sexually intimate with another man? Had she really believed that he—Simon—wasn’t the father of her child?

He wouldn’t have thought she’d had the time or energy to fit another man into her life three years ago. They had been together every spare minute they’d had that summer. Kit Davenport, Lucy’s best friend, had spent a lot of time with them, too.

Kit and Lucy had been extremely close, sharing all sorts of intimate secrets. And if Kit’s hostility toward him in the diner was any indication, then she had been led to believe that he’d known he was Nathan’s father all along—

A sharp rap, rap, rap against the SUV’s driver’s-side window startled Simon out of his reverie. Turning, he saw Winifred Averill staring at him, an accusatory look in her eyes as the morning breeze ruffled her mop of frizzy iron-gray curls.

Just what he needed—a lecture from one of Belle’s oldest and most revered senior citizens, he thought as he rolled down the window. He had always admired the elderly woman’s independence, and he had often been amused by her outrageous behavior. But at that particular moment, he would have preferred not to be the focus of her unabashed attention.

Since he didn’t seem to have any choice in the matter, though, Simon met her gaze with a gracious smile. He had no reason to act as if he’d done anything wrong because he most certainly hadn’t.

“Good morning, Mrs. Averill. It’s nice to see you again. Weren’t you having breakfast in the diner earlier?” he asked politely.

“Good morning to you, too, young man, and yes, I was having breakfast in the diner earlier,” she acknowledged, though her tone was anything but friendly. “As for the pleasure of seeing you again, that’s yet to be determined. By my reckoning, you’ve been less than dutiful the past few years.”

He shouldn’t be surprised that Winifred Averill assumed the worst about him. The tone of his last conversation with his parents indicated that they had, as well. Yet he couldn’t recall doing anything in the past that would have made it so easy for people, especially those who should have known him best, to convict him without even hearing his side of the story.

Simon had never been intentionally cruel or neglectful in his life. But somehow he’d been painted as the villain where Lucy Kane was concerned. For the life of him, he couldn’t begin to understand why.

“I guess it wouldn’t cut any ice with you if I said that I only just found out about that little boy in the diner,” he replied, trying not to sound as defensive as he had begun to feel.

Winifred held his gaze for several long, silent seconds. Then she gave a nod of seeming satisfaction.

“Most anybody else told me that, I’d say likely story. But you always struck me as a decent young man, Simon Gilmore, and you surely come from decent folks. Lucy Kane never pointed a finger at you publicly. I doubt people would have been any the wiser if that child’s resemblance to you hadn’t become so obvious lately. You’re here now and you seem aware of your responsibilities. I imagine you’ll do right by the youngster and by Miss Kit, as well. I believe that’s what really matters.”

“I’ll certainly do my best, Mrs. Averill,” he assured her, though he wasn’t certain exactly how to begin.

Seeming to read his mind, Mrs. Averill tipped her head in the general direction of the diner, a few doors down the street from where Simon had parked his SUV.

“Might be wise of you to smooth Miss Kit’s ruffled feathers,” the elderly woman suggested. “She’s had a lot to deal with the past six months. First her mother got sick. Poor Dolores only lasted a few weeks before the cancer took her in December. Then Lucy Kane ran her silly self into a tree, and Miss Kit took on the boy. She’s been trying to sell the diner so she can go back to school in Seattle, but she hasn’t had any takers. I’d say she could use a strong shoulder to lean on right about now.”

“I hadn’t heard about Mrs. Davenport,” Simon said.

He understood even more how callous his behavior must have seemed to Kit. What had he been thinking, strolling up to her and kissing her the way he had?

That he’d been truly glad to see her just as he’d said….

“Not surprising with your folks gone as much as they are, but I’d head south for the winter if I could, too.” Mrs. Averill nodded agreeably, then tapped a bony finger on Simon’s arm. “You go on back to the Dinner Belle and talk to Kit. Take a few minutes and get to know that little boy of yours, too. He’s a fine one, if I do say so myself—just like his daddy, too,” she added, favoring him with a knowing smile before she headed off down the sidewalk to her rusty old pickup truck parked in front of the post office.

Daddy…

Overwhelmed yet again by the new reality he faced, Simon slowly rolled up the window and took his key from the ignition. He would take Mrs. Averill’s advice and talk to Kit again before he drove out to the ranch. He was going to have a lot of explaining to do when he finally saw his parents, and he wanted to be able to give them straight answers to the questions he had no doubt they were going to ask.

If anybody could tell him what he needed to know about Lucy and Nathan, it had to be Kit Davenport. Getting past her anger and hostility would be a challenge, but one he was ready to face. He hadn’t been able to think straight earlier. But he was ready now to present his case to her in a calm and deliberate manner.

With an odd sense of anticipation—all things considered—Simon walked the short distance back to the diner, savoring as best he could the lovely day. The sun had begun to warm with the first taste of summer heat, in counterpoint to the still-crisp, cool air coming off the snow-covered mountains of Glacier National Park, reminding him of how much he’d longed for just such days after the long frozen winters of his childhood.

He hadn’t minded trading months of ice, snow and subzero temperatures for the mist and drizzle of Seattle…until now. He had forgotten how invigorating late spring and early summer could be in this quiet town he’d once called home. But he would remember now, and come back more often. In fact, his parents would insist on it so they could see their grandson.

Having no doubts at all that Mitchell and Deanna would welcome the new addition to their family with open arms, Simon strode into the Dinner Belle Diner with renewed confidence in his mission. He was more determined than ever to sort things out with Kit. He would let her know, too, that he’d be making arrangements to take over Nathan’s care. He didn’t want her to be overburdened any longer.

Fewer people remained in the diner than when he’d first stopped by, and none gave him more than a cursory glance as he walked through the door again. He saw immediately that the playpen was empty. Kit no longer stood behind the counter, either, but Simon fully expected the ding of the bell above the door to bring her out of the kitchen. Instead, a slightly older woman bustled into the dining room to greet him, her blond hair bouncing around her shoulders.

Simon recognized her after a moment as the diner’s longtime part-time waitress, and met her startled look with a slightly sheepish smile.

“Hey, Bonnie Lennox, good to see you again.” He greeted her in his most cordial tone.

Seeming unable to help herself, Bonnie smiled, too, as she paused by the counter.

“Well, hey to you, too, Simon Gilmore. I thought I saw you sitting outside in that fancy black SUV parked at the curb a few doors down the street. What brings you to the Dinner Belle Diner?”

Though her tone was friendly, as well, the look Bonnie gave him was weighted heavily with reserve.

“Back to the Dinner Belle Diner, actually. I was here a little earlier as you may have heard from Kit,” he said, testing the waters.

“She did mention that you’d stopped by,” Bonnie admitted, her face flushing slightly at being caught out.

“Unfortunately, we didn’t get off to a good start, and then I bolted like a scared rabbit. Finally got my head together, though.” He allowed his smile to widen encouragingly. “Could you let her know that I’d really like to talk to her again if she’s not too busy?”

“Well, I’m not sure that’s possible.” Bonnie hesitated, hands clasped at her waist. She looked as uncomfortable as she sounded. “We’re a little shorthanded today and folks are going to be coming for lunch real soon—”

“It’s okay, Bonnie, I’ll talk to him,” Kit said, appearing suddenly in the kitchen doorway, holding Nathan in her arms. “George is here now. He can finish up the lunch prep.”

Simon had suspected that Kit had been lurking just out of sight in the kitchen, and he couldn’t blame her for it. Now eyeing her openly as she spoke to Bonnie, he tried to measure how receptive she might be.

She hadn’t changed a lot in the years since he’d last seen her, but she had changed in ways that were definitely distinctive. She had cut off her mouse-brown, shoulder-length hair, highlighted it with threads of honey-blond and now wore it sensibly short and fashionably spiked. No longer hidden by a heavy fall of hair, her fragile features stood out in a striking way. Her wide green eyes, especially, were lovelier than he remembered. She had never been plain, but now she was truly pretty. She seemed much more confident, but also, understandably, much less lighthearted.

“We can talk upstairs, although I’m not really sure it’s necessary.”

With all-too-obvious reluctance, Kit finally met Simon’s gaze, the look she gave him one of grudging tolerance. Then she headed toward the staircase that led up to the apartment above the diner where she had lived with her mother.

Simon had been up there a few times in the past, but always with Lucy, never on his own.

“Oh, I’d say it was necessary,” he said.

He understood and accepted her suspicion of him. But he meant her no harm, as he intended to prove to her soon enough. He was there to help her, not hurt her.

“I can’t imagine why.” She ducked her head as she led the way up the creaking wooden steps.

“Don’t be coy, Kit. It doesn’t become you,” he advised, suddenly tired of sparring with her verbally.

“I’m not—” she protested.

“You are,” Simon stated unequivocally. Then, his gaze now on Nathan, peeping over Kit’s shoulder at him with bright, inquisitive eyes, he added, “But just so you know for sure, I’m here because of Nathan. He’s my son and I’ve come to collect him.”

Already halfway up the steps, Kit faltered as he spoke. Luckily he was able to catch her as she stumbled and save her from a bad fall. Hands on her forearms, he steadied her gently as she tried to regain her balance. The look she gave him—glancing back at him—held more hostility than gratitude. But still, combined with the feel of her warm, soft, bare skin against the palms of his hands, it sent an unexpected jolt zinging through him.

Reflexively he tightened his grip on her, the urge to pull her closer seeming to come out of nowhere almost more than he could resist—just as the urge to kiss her had been earlier. Contrarily Kit responded by jerking free of his grasp with something akin to a snarl. Then she continued up the steps without another word or another glance in his direction.

His male ego slightly bruised from her prickly retreat, Simon trailed after her, trying to keep his overactive libido in check. Good thing she’d had sense enough to shrug him off or he would have likely done something stupid. He had no idea what had come over him, but he had to be crazy to even consider hitting on Kit Davenport, especially under the circumstances. Yet for the time it took him to reach the top of the stairs, his eyes glued to her slender derriere, Simon Gilmore could think of little else.

Only when they were face-to-face again in the living room of the modestly furnished apartment, and Nathan gurgled and waved his teddy bear at him in seeming invitation, did Simon give himself a firm mental shake.

He wasn’t there for Kit. He was there for his son, and it was time to let her know it in no uncertain terms.

Chapter Three

K it had anticipated that Simon would return to the Dinner Belle Diner. She just hadn’t expected to see him again quite so soon. Since he hadn’t come back immediately after their initial confrontation, she had thought she’d have at least a day or two to marshal her resources before he showed his face at the Dinner Belle again. In fact, she had counted on at least having a chance to talk to Isaac Woodrow, the local attorney who was working with her to finalize Nathan’s adoption.

Kit had been sure that Isaac would be able to calm her fears regarding Simon and any rights he might choose to claim. Because Simon couldn’t possibly have any rights at all where Nathan was concerned—not to Kit’s way of thinking, at least—and certainly not at this late date.

He had heartlessly abandoned Lucy during her pregnancy even though he’d known she was carrying his child. And he hadn’t done anything since then to indicate that he’d given his own child the slightest bit of thought. Then he’d popped back into town and strolled into the diner, cocky as could be, ready to be welcomed home like a hero rather than the cowardly jerk he’d proven himself to be.

As if, Kit had thought, wanting to scrub the taste of his kiss from her lips.

He’d fled fast enough when confronted with proof of his irresponsibility—no big surprise there. But now he was back again, ready to talk to her. That was just fine and dandy with her. She had a lot to say to him, none of it good, and she knew she’d feel better once she’d gotten the bulk of the ill will she felt toward him off her chest.

Convinced that she had the upper hand, Kit had felt comfortable enough inviting Simon into her home. She’d been too smug, too soon, though, as she’d quickly discovered.

Climbing the staircase to the apartment, following along behind her in seeming docility, Simon Gilmore had neatly turned the tables on her. He had spouted absolute nonsense about collecting his son, as if Nathan were a parcel he’d forgotten at the post office. He had scared her so badly, she’d teetered on the wooden steps. And though he had caught her easily, saving her from a fall, his consideration offered her no reassurance at all.

Instead, the touch of Simon’s hands on her had triggered something even more frightening deep inside of her.

For the space of several heartbeats, Kit Davenport had been tempted to lean on Simon Gilmore. She’d had to be so strong for so long all on her own. She had nursed her mother through a terminal illness, and at the same time, she had managed to keep the Dinner Belle Diner open for business. Then she had taken on full responsibility for an orphaned toddler she truly loved.

The lure of Simon’s masculine strength—offered with seeming kindness and solicitude—had been almost more than she could resist. How easy she had found it in those few moments to believe that he meant her no harm. She had thought of him as a friend once, he had seemed to remind her. He could be her friend again if only she would let him.

But then Kit had remembered that he’d been no friend to Lucy, and wouldn’t be to her, either. Not as long as he thought he had the right to take Nathan away from her. Lucy had taken special care to name her as the little boy’s guardian. Surely that, alone, would negate any claim Simon attempted to make, and surely her attorney would agree.

Maybe she should tell Simon she’d rather not talk to him, after all. Maybe she should confer with Isaac first just to be certain of her rights. Better yet, maybe she should send Simon to see Isaac. As a family law attorney in practice for many years, Isaac Woodrow would know a lot more about her legal standing than she. He could speak not only with knowledge but also authority, and he could make sure Simon didn’t harass her in any way during the time he remained in Belle.

Having regained her confidence, Kit turned to face Simon as he closed the apartment door. She was fully prepared to ask him to leave, but the look he directed her way in the instant before Nathan distracted him was so resolute that her breath caught in her throat. He was a man with a mission, and he wouldn’t be easily deflected. Short of causing a scene that would embarrass them both, she doubted she’d be able to get rid of him until he, personally, was ready to go.

Talking to him would cost her little more than time, and she might even gain some peace of mind. Altruistic as he now seemed, Simon couldn’t possibly know all that was involved in raising a child. Once he realized how much time, energy and emotion good parenting required, odds were he’d bow out just like he had three years ago.

She would only pitch a fit if Simon tried to take Nathan away from her, Kit decided. Bonnie and George were close by. They would come to her rescue if need be.

Though watching Simon’s expression soften as he gazed at Nathan, Kit couldn’t believe he’d ever threaten her or harm her physically. He had always been a patient man. He had also treated everyone he knew with kindness and understanding—including Lucy, even when her behavior toward him had been careless and chaotic.

Running out on her, as he had the one time she’d really needed him, had seemed totally out of character to Kit. But the fact remained that he had—proof, as far as Kit was concerned, that he wasn’t nearly as good or kind or decent as she’d once believed him to be.

“It’s time for Nathan to have his lunch,” Kit said, maintaining a pragmatic tone, but only with great effort. “Why don’t you join us in the kitchen? We can talk while I feed him.”

Simon seemed to fill the apartment’s cozy living room with his masculine presence. Though nicely furnished and quite comfortable under normal circumstances, it certainly wasn’t spacious. At least not spacious enough for a woman, namely her, who would have rather not been in close quarters with a man, namely Simon, whom she considered more of an enemy than friend.

Unfortunately, the kitchen was smaller still. Kit’s mother had rarely used it, preferring, as she had, to cook in the diner’s larger and better-equipped facility. Kit didn’t cook there, either. She mostly just reheated whatever leftovers she brought up from the diner for herself and Nathan.

Giving the little boy his meals in the upstairs kitchen had become a part of their routine, though—one that Kit was loathe to disrupt. She had learned that any change in routine tended to make Nathan extremely fussy. Not unusual, considering he’d lost his mother, and certainly understandable. Upsetting him in order to keep Simon at a distance that would be nominal at best simply wasn’t necessary.

“Can I do anything to help?” Simon asked, following her as she headed for the kitchen doorway.

“I’m used to managing on my own,” she answered in a tart tone, bristling at him all over again before she could stop herself.

She didn’t like feeling crowded on any front, and just then Simon seemed to loom large—his broad shoulders and powerful physique making her feel ill at ease. He wasn’t being obnoxious about it, and he’d meant well, offering to help, but still…

“Of course, you are,” he said, pausing just inside the kitchen doorway, obviously aware of her discomfort. “I just thought you might be glad to have someone lend a hand for a change. But I’ll stay out of your way if that’s what you’d prefer.”

She was making a difficult situation even more so by behaving in such a disdainful manner, Kit thought, drawing a calming breath as she settled Nathan into his high chair and fastened the safety straps. Simon was right. She regularly wished she had someone to help her.

“You can get one of the bottles out of the refrigerator and put it in the bottle warmer on the counter to heat up,” she said, her tone now slightly conciliatory.

“So he still takes a bottle?”

Simon seemed genuinely interested as he followed her instructions without any fumbling or bumbling.

“Only after he’s eaten lunch. It helps him settle down for a nap. He gave up his bedtime bottle about six weeks ago. He decided one night that he didn’t want it.”

Moving efficiently around the tiny kitchen, managing somehow not to bump into Simon, Kit took a container of chicken noodle soup out of the refrigerator, dumped it into a pan on the stove and lit the burner. She gave Nathan a cracker to tide him over, opened a fresh jar of apple juice and poured some into a sippy cup. He reached for it eagerly, babbling in a happy voice.

“He seems like a good baby,” Simon ventured, stirring the soup with the spoon she’d left in the pot.

Very domestic, she acknowledged to herself, stepping around him to get a bowl from one of the cabinets above the counter. He had only taken a few seconds to figure out how to work the bottle warmer, too. He certainly deserved an A for effort, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d treated her best friend like dirt.

Reminded that she owed Simon no appreciation at all, Kit reached up to open the cabinet, and much to her chagrin, brushed against him accidentally. The physical contact, slight as it was, sent a shaft of heat through her. Startled, she almost dropped the bowl as she spun away from him.

Seeming equally off-kilter, Simon winced and shifted to the side, away from her, as well. Embarrassed, Kit plunked the bowl on the counter and turned to take a spoon from the drawer by the sink.

“He’s very good…all things considered,” she said, not really caring that she sounded snappish again.

Kit could feel Simon’s gaze on her as he continued to stir the soup. She could also sense that he was eyeing her with renewed frustration. Better that than getting too comfortable around her, she thought. It wasn’t her responsibility or her intention to make the present situation easy for him. He hadn’t earned easy from her, and as far as she was concerned, he never would, no matter how her body betrayed her with girlish longing.

The young man she’d secretly desired years ago had proven to have feet of clay. He had used Lucy, then abandoned her, and he would probably do the same to her if she gave him half a chance.

“Looks like the soup is ready,” he said. “Do you want me to spoon some of it into the bowl?”

“Yes, please.”

Kit stood by in silence as Simon carefully filled the bowl halfway. Then she picked it up off the counter and carried to the table. She sipped a spoonful, testing to make sure it wasn’t too hot, then offered some to Nathan. Sitting with her back to Simon, she tried to pretend he wasn’t there. Finally he moved to the chair across from her and sat down with an audible sigh.

“I didn’t know Lucy was pregnant with my child,” he said, his voice low but steady, commanding her attention with his simply spoken, and utterly unbelievable, statement.

Kit’s first instinct was to lash out at him in anger. He had a lot of nerve saying such a thing to her. He couldn’t honestly think he’d gain ground with her by spouting such a ridiculous lie. She wasn’t stupid, after all, and she’d been Lucy’s best friend. There had been no secrets between them—not where Simon Gilmore was concerned.

Remembering how upset Nathan had been the few times Lucy raised her voice in front of him, Kit managed to keep her emotions in check, however. There was no need to throw a tempter tantrum and cause the child to cry. Not when she could make her point just as forcefully in a calm, quiet manner.

“Give me a break, Simon,” she said, her voice low, as well, but heavily laced with sarcasm. “You knew Lucy was pregnant when you left Belle three years ago. She told you about the baby the last time you were together, and you took off like a shot the very next day. You abandoned her and you abandoned your child and you didn’t give either of them a second thought. Don’t come around here now, trying to change history. It’s not going to work—at least not with me.”

“I’m not trying to change history, Kit,” Simon insisted.

Sitting forward in his chair, his hands gripping the edge of the oak table, he seemed unwilling to let the matter drop. Kit bit back another caustic comment with a grim twist of her lips, and glanced at him with exasperation, her look all but shouting “Oh, please.”

“I’m not,” he said again, his voice suddenly turning hard and cold as steel. “It’s true Lucy told me she was pregnant the last time I saw her, and I did leave town the next day. But there’s something Lucy also told me that she evidently didn’t bother to share with you. It’s the real reason why I left town the way I did, and the main reason I haven’t really wanted to return.”

“Lucy and I didn’t keep secrets from each other,” Kit insisted, making no effort to hide her continued distrust of him. “We were best friends…always.”

“I didn’t think Lucy kept secrets from me, either, and we were a hell of a lot more than best friends. But I know now that she did.”

“That doesn’t mean she kept secrets from me, too,” Kit shot back defensively.

“Just hear me out, okay?” Simon pleaded, his frustration evident though his voice was still low. “Then you can decide how honest Lucy Kane really was with us.”

“Okay, fine. Say whatever it is you have to say. Just don’t expect me to believe you,” Kit advised.

With a negligent shrug of her shoulders, she turned her attention to feeding Nathan.

“The night Lucy told me she was pregnant she also told me the baby wasn’t mine,” Simon began, only the slightest bit hesitant. “She said she’d been seeing someone else over the summer, someone she said that she loved more than me. She also told me he was the one who had fathered her baby.”

Kit stared at Simon then, unable to hide her surprise. Lucy—seeing someone else? Impossible—

“I didn’t want to believe her, Kit,” Simon continued insistently. “In fact, I refused to believe her until she looked me straight in the eye and said it all again, just as calm as you please. She told me to have a nice life in Seattle, then she gave me a little kiss on the cheek by way of goodbye. Talk about a kick in the teeth.”

Simon’s version of how he and Lucy had parted company was too outrageous to even be considered. Yet the look of anguish Kit saw in his eyes before he glanced away was so genuine that she couldn’t dismiss what he’d told her. The thought came to her that he might just be telling her the truth, and with that thought came a cold rush of fear.

Lucy hadn’t really wanted to go with Simon to Seattle. She had admitted as much to Kit more than once that summer. But would she have lied to him about her pregnancy so she wouldn’t have to? Though Kit didn’t want to think her friend could have been so cruel or so deceptive, Simon’s revelation had set off a tremor of uncertainty that was already beginning to shake her faith in her friend.

“Yeah, I left Belle, Montana, in a rush, all right,” Simon added in a musing tone when Kit made no comment. Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I couldn’t get away from here fast enough. I wouldn’t have come back now except my parents called and told me I had some family business that needed tending. They didn’t give me any details, but I’m guessing they’ve been thinking what you and half the town must have been thinking of me lately. Only it’s not true, Kit. I didn’t intentionally abandon Lucy or my child. That’s not the kind of man I am, and you, of all people, should know it.”

Mechanically, Kit finished feeding Nathan his soup, saying nothing though her thoughts whirled a mile a minute.

She was no longer convinced that Simon was lying to her. He’d told his side of the story with too much sincerity for her to dismiss it as a fabrication. There was also no reason for him to go to so much trouble offering excuses. No one had asked him to take responsibility for Nathan’s welfare.

Well, she hadn’t, and she wouldn’t in the future, but maybe his parents would. Only it wasn’t going to be necessary. Once the adoption was final, Nathan would be her child, legally, and she was more than capable of caring for him all on her own.

Finally Kit glanced at Simon again as she helped Nathan take another drink from his cup. He eyed her stubbornly in return, still waiting for her to respond. She wasn’t sure what to say to him. The truth Lucy had told her was so different from his truth. Maybe it warranted repeating.

“Lucy told me that you knew the baby was yours. She told me that’s why you left town. She said you didn’t want to be tied down to a wife and family. She bawled like a baby when she told me you’d gone, and she was miserable for a long time after you left.” Pausing, Kit frowned and looked away again. “It’s unlikely she was seeing someone else—highly unlikely. She was either with you or me or both of us that summer, and she was working at the diner, too. She wouldn’t have had time to fit in a secret lover, and if she had, I’m sure she would have told me. We were so close….”

“I thought we were close, too, Lucy and I, but obviously I was wrong,” Simon said. “She lied to me, Kit, and she lied to you, too. You can either admit it to yourself, or not, but that’s the one basic truth in the whole damned mess she created.”

“But why?” Kit demanded fiercely, suddenly more afraid than ever. “Why did she lie to us? She must have had some good reason.”

If Simon was right about Lucy—if she intentionally kept him from his son—then he might actually have a legitimate claim to Nathan. He had already said he wanted his son. But he couldn’t just take him away from her. She was already his legal guardian and the adoption was very near to being finalized—

“I don’t know why,” Simon admitted. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I first saw Nathan standing in his playpen. She knew I loved her and she knew I wanted her to live with me in Seattle. Hell, I must have asked her to marry me half a dozen times that summer. She’d just smile and say she’d think about it.

“Then she said the one thing she had to know was guaranteed to run me off. You were her best friend, Kit. You were the one she would have trusted most, yet she lied to you, too, didn’t she?”

“Only if I believe what you’ve told me is the truth,” Kit countered.

Gathering Nathan’s empty bowl and cup, she pushed away from the table and crossed to the sink, turning her back on Simon. He was making too much sense for her peace of mind.

“Why would I lie to you?” Simon asked relentlessly, echoing the question she’d posed to herself once already.

“So you can strut around town again without looking like a jerk,” she retorted, aware that she was grasping at straws.

Why would Simon Gilmore care what anyone in tiny Belle, Montana, thought of him—including her? He could certainly snow his own parents without a practice run, and he had a whole other life in Seattle, Washington. None of his friends in the big city need ever know about his youthful indiscretion.

“You should know me better than that after all the time we spent together, Kit,” Simon chided her gently. “I’ve made my share of mistakes and I’ve always owned up to them. But I’m not hanging my head in shame over something I didn’t do. And I did not abandon Lucy or my son.”

“I thought I knew Lucy, too, but now I’m not so sure,” Kit admitted, failing to realize until too late that she had finally sided with him, at least in an indirect way.

“That’s not exactly a vote of total confidence, but hey, I’ll take what I can get,” Simon said, his gruff tone lightening perceptively. Then as Kit took Nathan’s bottle from the warmer, he added to the little boy, “Hey, buddy, how about I get you out of that high chair?”

Clutching the baby bottle in both hands, Kit spun around to face Simon again, just as he lifted Nathan into his arms. The child went to him willingly, looking up at him with wondering eyes. His expression grave but unafraid, Nathan patted Simon’s jaw with one little hand. Simon seemed equally enchanted by his son, returning the little boy’s gaze with one full of awe.

Kit was both endeared and terrified by the sight of father and son taking their first tentative steps in the bonding process. Simon couldn’t think she’d let him take Nathan away from her on the basis of some wild, impossible-to-prove story.

“Let me have him,” she demanded.

Her voice sounding harsh and afraid to her ears as she plunked the bottle on the table, she reached for Nathan.

Obviously startled by her tone, Simon took a step back. His hold on Nathan seemed to tighten as he gazed at her in confusion. Nathan, too, stared at her, his eyes widening, his lower lip beginning to quiver.

Pain squeezed at Kit’s heart as she thought of how easily Simon could turn and walk out of the apartment with Nathan still in his arms. The way he was standing, he had a clear shot through the kitchen to the front door. She wasn’t strong enough to stop him physically. She doubted George and Bonnie together would be, either, even if she managed to alert them in time.

Tears welled in her eyes and her hands began to shake. She couldn’t lose Nathan. Not after all the other losses she’d suffered in the past six months.

“Please,” she begged, unable to hide her desperation as she held her arms out to Simon in supplication. “Please let me have him….”

Chapter Four

S imon stared at Kit in silence for several long, confusing moments, unsure at first what had triggered the high note of panic in her voice as she reached out so greedily for Nathan. He had only been trying to lend a hand, wanting to release the fidgeting little boy from the confines of his high chair before he began to fuss.

Taking such action had seemed harmless enough, and of course he’d handled Nathan with consummate care. He had thought Kit would appreciate the help, busy as she was rinsing dishes at the sink, then fetching Nathan’s bottle from the warmer. But the longing that had built steadily inside of him as he’d sat by the table, talking to Kit, had motivated him, as well.

Focusing more and more of his attention on the child happily eating the chicken soup and saltines she fed him so patiently, Simon had noted the many physical similarities between him and his son. He had seen in Nathan, too, something of Lucy in the determined tilt of his little chin and the elegant arch of his eyebrows.

With increasing urgency Simon had wanted to feel the warm, solid weight of his son’s small body in his arms. He had needed to hold his child close, to look into his bright blue eyes with the gentle reassurance of a father promising his beloved child that he would move heaven and earth to make sure everything in his world would always be just fine.

Your daddy’s here now, little guy, and he’s going to take very good care of you.

Understanding finally dawned on Simon as Kit continued to stand in front of him, however, her eyes darkened by the shadow of inexpressible fear. She must have sensed the intensity of his determination to accept responsibility for the son he only now knew he had. And she must now think that he intended to take Nathan from her at that very moment.

No wonder she had panicked, Simon thought, his heart going out to her in sympathy. She must see him as her enemy, when that wasn’t his intention at all. They had been friends once. For Nathan’s sake, he hoped they could be friends again.

Kit had said that Lucy named her as the boy’s legal guardian. She had also said that she was in the process of adopting him, and it was apparent, by all she’d said and done, that she loved and cherished him deeply.

In the months since Lucy’s death Kit had mothered Nathan as if he were her own child. She was the one constant in his son’s short life, and she was the one Nathan reached for now with a tearful whimper, aware as children always are, of emotions running high.

Simon knew that he would gain nothing by alienating Kit Davenport, and he would upset Nathan, as well, by behaving like a bully. There were ways that he could go about asserting his parental rights in a calm and dignified manner. He truly had no desire at all to cause Kit unnecessary pain.

To his way of thinking, he owed her an enormous debt of gratitude. Had it not been for her generosity of spirit, Nathan could have become a ward of the state. Put into a foster home and eventually adopted by strangers, his son would never have known he had a father ready and willing to love and care for him.

No, Simon didn’t want to hurt Kit, or upset her unnecessarily. But he wasn’t going to give up his son to her, either—at least not on any kind of permanent basis.

Of course, he was going to need time to bond with his son before he would be ready to take over as a full-time father. And Kit was the one person who could facilitate that bonding. Her acceptance of him would, in turn, guarantee Nathan’s acceptance of him, and only with mutual acceptance and understanding would they avoid any further emotional trauma.

“Hey, no problem,” Simon said finally, shifting Nathan into Kit’s arms with a reassuring smile. “I hope I didn’t scare him.”

The little boy’s quivering lip vanished as he snuggled contentedly against Kit’s shoulder. Her relief was almost palpable as she held the child close. But there was also embarrassment evident in the lingering glance she shot Simon’s way.

“Actually, I believe I’m the one who frightened him, raising my voice the way I did,” she admitted, her slight smile rueful.

“You weren’t afraid that I’d drop him or anything, were you?” Simon asked, wanting to find out just how honest she would be with him.

Kit hesitated a moment, her smile fading as she looked away, then met his gaze again, her chin tipped at a defensive angle.

“I trusted that you’d be careful with him,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “What concerned me was the possibility that you’d try to leave with him, and I wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop you.”

Her truthfulness, coupled with her acknowledgment of just how vulnerable he’d made her feel, touched off deep in Simon’s soul an unexpected inclination to protect. Had anyone posed a similar threat to Kit Davenport’s well-being, he knew he would have come to her aid without a moment’s hesitation. But the only way he could save her from himself was to give up his son, and that Simon could never do.

Again he realized how loathe he was to see Kit hurt, and again he admitted that he was the one most likely to cause her pain in the very near future. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see that he had any choice in the matter. He could be as honest as she was, though, and hope that she would respect him for it as he respected her.

“The thought did cross my mind,” he said. “Nathan is my son, after all.

“But there are other issues involved, legal issues that we’ll have to sort out. There’s also the fact that he doesn’t know me very well yet. It’s going to be a while before he’s as comfortable with me as he is with you. If I’d taken off with him, I would have probably scared him half to death. That wouldn’t do any of us any good, but especially wouldn’t have been good for Nathan. His best interests have to come first, as I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“Of course, I agree that his best interests are of primary importance. But just because you happened to donate the sperm doesn’t automatically give you parental rights,” Kit retorted in righteous indignation, all evidence of weakness on her part gone in a flash. Holding Nathan tight, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze unswervingly. “I’m the one Lucy designated as her son’s guardian. Nothing was said about you in her will. I don’t think she would have left you out of the equation if she wanted you to be a part of Nathan’s life.”

“Lucy made a lot of decisions about our son that didn’t include me,” Simon pointed out, his own ire returning in full force. “But only because I didn’t know I had a son, thanks to her deception. I know about Nathan now, though, and I’m not letting you exclude me the way she did. I’m a good man and I deserve to have the chance to raise my son. You can try to fight me if you want to, Kit. But be fore-warned—while I don’t want to see you hurt, I will do whatever it takes to get full custody of my son.”

He spoke in a measured tone, never once raising his voice. Still Kit seemed to wilt under his barrage. She didn’t respond verbally in any way, just looked at him with wide, suddenly frightened eyes. Despite all his justifications, spoken and unspoken, in that moment she made him feel like a bully. He could blame her for the provocation, but that didn’t excuse completely his intimidating behavior.

“I want you with me, Kit, not against me,” he added, softening his voice as he reached out to touch her cheek with gentle fingertips.

She flinched away from him as if she’d been scalded.

“It’s Lucy’s wishes that matter to me, not yours, Simon Gilmore. Lucy wanted me, not you, to take care of Nathan if anything happened to her, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you in court,” he stated simply, accepting at last that they’d reached an impasse.

“Yes, I guess you will.”

He had said as much as he could, Simon thought, and probably more than he should. Turning away from Kit, he made his way to the door. He didn’t like leaving after such an acrimonious exchange, but neither was he prepared to alter his stance or to take back anything he’d said.

He had tried to be reasonable as he’d stated his case, but Kit hadn’t wanted to be reasonable in return. Now there seemed nothing left to do but head out to the ranch. He’d talk to his parents, and then he would hire an attorney to represent him.

There was no telling how long it would take to win custody of his son. But he had four weeks’ time to get the process started, and he intended to go the distance no matter what it cost him in the end.

To Kit, the hollow sound of the apartment door closing had a frightening ring of finality about it. She wanted to go after Simon and rage at him in the worst way. But all she could do was stand in her tiny kitchen, holding Nathan in her arms, a sick twist in the pit of her stomach.

He had a lot of nerve showing up in Belle, claiming Lucy had lied to him three years ago, then sputtering angrily about his rights. He had likely expected she’d give in to his forcefulness. She was a woman alone, after all, with limited financial resources. But she’d stood her ground, and so he’d upped the ante, changing his tactics like a chameleon changes color.

He had caught her off guard, touching her the way he had so unexpectedly, his hand gentle against her face. For one long moment she had been tempted to believe that he wished her no harm—that when he said he wanted her with him, not against him, they could be partners for Nathan’s benefit.

But then common sense had come to the fore. Simon wanted her cooperation only so that he could gain custody of his son without a legal battle. Once he’d accomplished that task, he’d have no need of her. She would be shuffled off to the sidelines, and eventually, as time passed, the child she’d come to love as her own would be lost to her forever.

The possibility that such a fate awaited her anyway loomed large in Kit’s mind as she retrieved Nathan’s bottle from the table where she’d set it earlier. Through the adoption process, she had learned a little about the laws regarding child custody. But not nearly enough, she admitted now, the dread that had made her stomach roil settling into her soul, as well.

She knew that biological parents had certain rights where their children were concerned unless they gave up those rights willingly or had them taken away by the court. Simon had made it clear that he wanted custody of his son, so he certainly wasn’t going to give up his rights voluntarily. Unless he could be proven to be a danger to the child, the court wasn’t likely to stand in his way, either.

But what about Lucy’s rights, not to mention her wishes? Wouldn’t a mother’s say about who raised her child have some sway with a judge? And if not, where did that leave her? Kit wondered. She would have to call Isaac Woodrow just as soon as she could. Surely he would be able to answer her questions and perhaps even calm her fears.

First things first, though, she told herself as she shifted her attention to the little boy she held in her arms. Ready for his bottle and afternoon nap, Nathan had begun to squirm and fuss impatiently while she let her fears get the better of her. She would be no good to herself or Nathan or to Lucy’s memory if she adopted a defeatist attitude before she had all the facts of the matter.

“Come on, kiddo. Let’s get you settled,” Kit said, glancing at the clock in the kitchen, then heading for the kitchen doorway.

Amazingly it wasn’t quite eleven-thirty. She shouldn’t be surprised since Sara Hale, the college student who looked after Nathan from eleven-thirty till three, hadn’t arrived yet and she was always on time. Still, to Kit, it seemed impossible that so little time had passed considering how completely her life had been changed since Simon had first strolled into the Dinner Belle Diner that morning.

The biggest worry she’d had to face when her alarm had sounded at dawn had been finding a buyer for the diner. Now that seemed like hardly any problem at all, faced as she suddenly was with the possibility of losing Nathan.

Aware that she’d have an easier time slipping back down to the diner if Nathan was asleep when Sara arrived, Kit made fast work of changing the little boy’s diaper and tucking him into his bed with his bottle. He gazed at her with sleepy eyes and smiled at her for an instant, his little mouth curving around the bottle’s nipple in a way that made her heart ache.

Gripping the bed rail with both hands, she stood over him until he let go of the bottle and drifted off to sleep. She reached out to take the bottle with one hand and, with the other, she gently smoothed his dark curls from his forehead.

As her fingers grazed the downy softness of the child’s skin, Kit thought again of how Simon had touched her, but in another, less defensive, light. She had been shocked and appalled by the familiar way in which he’d kissed her. But they had been friends once, and if what he’d said about Lucy was true, he would have had no reason to expect anything but a warm welcome from her.

She’d been startled by his tenderness when he’d caught her on the staircase, as well, especially coming as it had on the heels of his rant about fatherly rights. But looking back on the moment, she couldn’t reject the caring and concern he’d shown her as being insincere.

She had seen the candor in his eyes and heard it in his voice as he’d said that he wanted her with him, and she had responded, if only for an instant, in a way that had frightened her then, and now. She had been alone so long, facing one tragedy after another—her mother’s illness, then her death and then Lucy’s death. How easy it would be to lean on him, just as she had done when she’d stumbled on the steps and he’d saved her from a fall. How easy it had been to trust in the promise of benevolence he’d held out to her then.

Kit had never thought of Simon Gilmore as a hurtful person until he’d abandoned Lucy. And if he hadn’t run out on his responsibilities as Lucy had claimed—if, in fact, Lucy had lied to him as well to her—then she had no reason to think of him as a hurtful person now.

Only, he’d said he was going to take Nathan away from her. There was no more hurtful thing he could do to her.

A soft tap on the front door announced Sara’s arrival. Time to put Simon out of her mind—ditto the havoc he could cause, Kit thought. Tables had likely begun to fill in the diner and much as she wanted to call Isaac immediately, she knew her help would be needed there until the crowd dwindled.

Reluctantly Kit left Nathan sleeping in his bed and hurried to answer the door, managing somehow to dredge up a smile for sweet, young Sara somewhere along the way.

“You didn’t tell me that you knew the identity of Nathan’s father,” Isaac Woodrow said, his tone slightly accusatory.

“You didn’t ask,” Kit answered, trying not to sound as defensive as she felt.

She had called Isaac as planned after the diner’s 3:30 p.m. closing time, and had explained the situation to him as calmly as she could. He’d listened without comment until she’d finished. But then, instead of offering her the reassurance she’d needed, her lawyer had made her sound like the culpable party.

“I assumed Ms. Kane wasn’t sure who the father was since she didn’t list a name on the child’s birth certificate.”

“I didn’t think it mattered who Nathan’s father was since Lucy named me as his guardian. She obviously didn’t want Simon Gilmore to have him. I had to agree with her because of the way he abandoned her.”

“But you’re saying now that Mr. Gilmore is claiming Ms. Kane told him he wasn’t the father of her child. That would preclude any attempt at accusing him of abandonment.”

“Maybe Lucy had a reason why she didn’t want Simon involved in Nathan’s upbringing. Maybe he behaved badly toward her,” Kit insisted, though she admitted to herself that it was highly unlikely.

“That would have to be proven, Ms. Davenport.”

“He could be lying about what Lucy told him,” she said, returning to her original argument. “So it would be his word against mine, wouldn’t it?”

“Regardless of what occurred between Mr. Gilmore and Ms. Kane three years ago, if Mr. Gilmore is the child’s biological father and if he wants custody of the child, then the court will give his claim serious consideration,” Isaac explained patiently. “And to be perfectly frank, unless he can be proven to be a danger to the child, his rights will most certainly take precedence over yours.”

“How can that be possible? I’m his legal guardian,” Kit pointed out, unwilling to just give up.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Davenport, but it’s the law. Be grateful he’s shown up now instead of two years from now when the transition for Nathan would be even more difficult. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves here with worst-case scenarios. Mr. Gilmore may actually be willing to give up his rights once he’s considered all that’s involved in becoming a single parent. He was understandably angry about what he believes to be Ms. Kane’s deception, and he reacted accordingly. Given a little time to think about what he’d be taking on, perhaps he’ll change his mind. Did he say he’d be hiring an attorney?”

“Not in so many words, but he did say he’d see me in court,” Kit replied, tears of frustration stinging her eyes.

It was easy for Isaac to dismiss worst-case scenarios. He hadn’t seen the determined look in Simon’s eyes.

“Then let’s give it a few days and see what develops.”

“But the adoption is so close to being final. Isn’t there some way you can get the judge to sign the papers?

“Not unless Mr. Gilmore agrees to give up his parental rights.”

“But Lucy wanted me to take care of Nathan….”

“Again, I’m sorry, Ms. Davenport. We have to abide by the law in cases like this, and the law gives Mr. Gilmore certain rights regarding his son. I will do everything I can on your behalf, though. Under the circumstances, I’m sure I’ll be able to arrange visitation for you at the very least, unless you choose to be openly hostile toward Mr. Gilmore. That certainly wouldn’t work in your favor.”

“Visitation?”

“I’m sure I’ll be hearing from Mr. Gilmore’s attorney in a few days. We’ll talk again after that, all right?”

“Yes, of course…we can talk again.”

Only Kit didn’t want to talk to Isaac Woodrow anymore. She wanted to pack up all of her belongings, strap Nathan into his car seat and head out of Belle as fast as her aging car would go.

How could he think she’d be satisfied with visitation? Lucy had wanted Kit to take care of Nathan 24/7, not just see him occasionally at Simon Gilmore’s convenience. As for curbing her hostility toward him…well, that just wasn’t going to be possible.

Sadly, neither was making a run for it. Life on the lam would be no life for her or for Nathan. For one thing, they’d have no peace. Simon would be hot on their trail. She’d only be postponing the inevitable until he finally caught up with her. She might have Nathan with her for a little longer, but she would lose him eventually.

Better to stand and fight than run and hide, she told herself, brushing the tears from her cheeks with shaky hands. Then maybe all wouldn’t be lost completely.

Chapter Five

S itting in Isaac Woodrow’s office the following afternoon, nervously smoothing a hand over the fabric of her khaki skirt, Kit mentally replayed the conversation she’d had with him the previous day. He hadn’t given her much to hang on to in the way of hope. And she’d lost her grasp completely on the tiny threads she’d clung to during a long and sleepless night when he’d walked into the diner that morning, a grim look on his weathered face.

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