Even a millionaire in disguise can’t hide his true heart.

He’s secretly worth millions of dollars…

But is he worthy of her trust?

Dylan Kingsley has learned to hide his millionaire status from strangers. So it’s no wonder Gabby Stover—his infant niece’s guardian—thinks he’s just another drifter. To prove his worthiness, Dylan takes a job as a ranch hand…and accidentally finds the purpose he’s been seeking his whole life. But could the truth steal Dylan’s chance at a happily-ever-after with Gabby and the baby?

JILL KEMERER writes novels with love, humor and faith. Besides spoiling her mini dachshund and keeping up with her busy kids, Jill reads stacks of books, lives for her morning coffee and gushes over fluffy animals. She resides in Ohio with her husband and two children. Jill loves connecting with readers, so please visit her website, jillkemerer.com, or contact her at PO Box 2802, Whitehouse, OH 43571.

Also By Jill Kemerer

Wyoming Sweethearts

Her Cowboy Till Christmas

The Cowboy’s Secret

Wyoming Cowboys

The Rancher’s Mistletoe Bride

Reunited with the Bull Rider

Wyoming Christmas Quadruplets

His Wyoming Baby Blessing

Small-Town Bachelor

Unexpected Family

Her Small-Town Romance

Yuletide Redemption

Hometown Hero’s Redemption

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Cowboy’s Secret

Jill Kemerer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90664-1

THE COWBOY’S SECRET

© 2020 Ripple Effect Press, LLC

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

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“He’d be nothing without his daddy’s money.”

Gabby snorted and pushed the stroller to the trail once more. The words stabbed Dylan’s heart. She could have been talking about him.

“Has he bothered you?”

“His attitude bothers me. Other than that, he’s harmless.” Her footstep faltered, but she adjusted her balance.

He’d have to take her word for it. But it was obvious she wasn’t telling him the whole story. His spirits sank. Why would she confide in him?

He was merely the uncle she was being forced to deal with.

When they reached the end of the paved portion of the trail, they turned back. Gabby didn’t want to tell him about her personal life. He got it.

Loneliness smacked him square in the middle.

He finally had a life worth sharing but no one to share it with.

He was playing at being an uncle, playing at being a cowboy, playing at being part of a small town. Something told him he was going to walk away from Rendezvous disappointed if he played at being important to Gabby.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed reading this book. I had so much fun watching Dylan and Gabby fall in love as they embraced their identities in ways they struggled with when the story began. Dylan falsely tied his identity to his bank account, and he came to the conclusion he wasn’t worth much without his father’s money. He was blind to his many wonderful qualities, and I’m so glad he could find his true worth in Rendezvous.

Gabby knew she had trust issues with men—with good reason!—but as time wore on, she realized she needed to accept that lasting love did exist. With God’s grace, Gabby was able to accept Dylan’s love for what it was—real, special and worth risking her heart over.

May we all step out of our comfort zones as both of them did and embrace our invaluable worth as children of God. Nothing can separate us from His love for us!

I love connecting with readers. Feel free to email me at jill@jillkemerer.com or write me at P.O. Box 2802, Whitehouse, Ohio, 43571.

Blessings to you,

Jill Kemerer

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

—John 14:27

To Debbie Hanna and Ronda Gieskin for your friendship and laughter. Love you both!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

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

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

“You can’t trust a cowboy.” Gabby Stover typed instructions for housekeeping at the front desk of Mountain View Inn, the premier—and only—hotel in Rendezvous, Wyoming. Bright June sunshine streamed in through the large windows near the counter, but she kept her focus on the computer where it belonged. Her shift as the day manager would be over soon, and she still needed to check tomorrow’s reservations and review her daily checklist.

“I’d give the cowboy outside a shot.” Stella Boone, the new reception clerk, pretended to brush off her shoulder. “That hottie is definitely not from around here.”

Gabby scrolled through the reservations, not bothering to glance out the window to catch a glimpse of the guy. She did not have time to indulge in Stella’s uncanny radar for spotting attractive men. There was enough to deal with at the moment, especially since Babs O’Rourke, the inn’s owner and Gabby’s friend, had thrown down a bombshell this morning.

Was Babs really selling the place?

Gabby took a deep breath to relieve the sudden tightness in her chest. If the inn transferred to new owners, she’d more than likely no longer have a job. And she loved her job. She’d been working at the inn since she was nineteen years old. She was good at managing it—enjoyed meeting new people and sharing her enthusiasm about Rendezvous with them. It gave her pleasure to make sure they were comfortable. Plus it paid better than most jobs around here.

With the baby to think about, she needed every penny. Her niece, Phoebe, deserved a stable home and wonderful childhood—the opposite of what she and her sister, Allison, had endured.

“Do you think he’s staying here?” Stella asked. “Maybe I can be his personal tour guide.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” Gabby forced herself to speak in a pleasant tone. “Take it from me, cowboys are liars.”

“That’s a rotten thing to say, considering you’re such good friends with Mason Fanning.” Stella pulled a compact out of her purse and checked her appearance in the small mirror.

“First of all, this isn’t the place to check your makeup. It’s unprofessional.” She tried to inject as much sternness as possible into her glare. “Second, Mason is a rancher, not a cowboy. There’s a big difference.”

“Sure. Big difference. Whatever you say.” Stella fluffed her hair. “Does this mean Judd Wilson made it on your hot list, or is he more cowboy than rancher?”

Hot list? Gabby’s eye began twitching uncontrollably. She’d hired Stella as a favor to the girl’s sister, Nicole, who’d recently joined her support group and was due this summer with triplets. But Gabby’s goodwill was quickly running out. As for Judd Wilson…the successful rancher was a looker, no denying it, but she had no romantic feelings for the man.

A shame. Judd was a good guy. But she was always attracted to the bad boys—the charmers in Stetsons with a twinkle in their eyes and snake oil on their tongues. Thankfully, she’d come a long way since the Carl debacle, and she had no intention of making a mistake of that magnitude again.

“Steer clear of cowboys, okay, Stella? It’s for your own good.”

“You sound as uptight as my sister. Ooh, he’s coming in!” She tossed her blond hair over her shoulder and flashed her biggest smile.

Gabby had to refrain from rolling her eyes. Only then did she catch a glimpse of the man.

Oh my. Hottie didn’t do him justice.

Her heartbeat thumped as her living, breathing cowboy fantasy-nightmare strode her way. He took off his hat, revealing short, messy black hair. She tried not to stare at his full lips, dark eyebrows and brown eyes. His shoulders were wide, hips slim, legs long. He wore jeans, cowboy boots and a black T-shirt. Flawless. Her knees trembled. She firmed her muscles.

This one was going to be trouble.

He stopped at the counter and exhaled as if something heavy was on his mind.

“May I help you?” Stella batted her eyelashes.

“I’m looking for Gabrielle Stover.” Even his voice was perfection. Low with a slight rasp—a shiver rushed over her skin.

“You’re looking at her.” Gabby pasted on her most professional smile. “What can I help you with today?”

He frowned, pulling out a piece of paper from his back pocket. She forced herself to look away from his sinewy fingers to check the clock. In another hour she’d pick up Phoebe from Eden’s place and kick off her Friday night with a pizza. Maybe this would be the weekend she’d coax her niece to crawl. At nine months old, Phoebe was scooting and pulling herself up to a standing position with help from the furniture, but she’d yet to crawl. If only Allison could see her daughter… Sudden emotion clogged Gabby’s throat. Her little sister would have been a great mommy if she’d lived.

The cowboy handed her the paper he’d smoothed out. She began to read. Her stomach dropped, leaving her nauseous, reeling.

Oh, please, no. No…

The man standing before her was Phoebe’s father!

“Stella, keep an eye on the front desk.” Gabby rounded the counter and curtly motioned for the man to follow her. She led him down the hall to her private office and offered him a seat before practically collapsing into her own chair.

“You’re here for the baby.” Saying the words out loud ripped something from her soul. He was here to claim Phoebe. He was going to take her niece—Gabby’s whole world, the baby she’d been raising as her own ever since Allison’s heart attack.

“Are you okay?” He tilted his head, those brown eyes darkening with concern. “You look…ill.”

Ill? Of course she was ill! This was what she’d feared from the day Allison first tried to contact him. Her sister’s poor judgment had led to a one-night stand during a trip to Texas. Allison had tracked down the guy, Sam Pine, and had written several emails to let him know she was pregnant and keeping the baby. He’d never responded, nor did he seem to be on any social media sites. After Allison died, Gabby had tried to contact him, too. As a last resort, she’d mailed a letter to the only address she could find linked to his name, although she’d doubted it was current. That had been six months ago.

Unfortunately, a father had rights, and there was nothing she could do about it. He was the dad. She was merely the aunt.

“I’m…fine.” She tried to compose herself. “So, Sam, I—”

“Sam?” It was his turn to look green. “I’m not Sam. Sam died. I thought you knew.”

Sam died? Relief swept in. This guy wasn’t the father! He wasn’t taking Phoebe away!

Shame brought her back to the situation at hand. She couldn’t celebrate the sad fact Phoebe’s father was dead. The baby truly was an orphan. How horrible.

“No, I had no idea.” She shook her head. “He never responded to any of Allison’s emails or mine, after—” she licked her lips and pressed them together, willing her emotions back in place “—after Allison died.”

“I’m sorry about your loss.” He averted his eyes, then glanced up at her once more. “What happened?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words jammed in her throat. Come on. Tell him the facts. Don’t get emotional. You’ve gotten good at it.

“Twelve hours after giving birth to Phoebe, Allison was asleep in her hospital room and had a heart attack.”

His exhalation came out in a whoosh. “A heart attack?” He rubbed his cheek. “In the hospital? And she died? How could that have happened?”

The same questions she’d asked herself countless times since getting the call from the hospital telling her that her sister was gone. A fresh gush of pain spilled down to her gut.

“The doctor told me her death was caused by a spontaneous coronary artery dissection.” Her tone was brisk and no-nonsense, nothing like her current emotional state.

“What does that mean?” He looked genuinely distressed, and her outward calm faltered a bit at the sympathy in his expression.

“A tear formed in her heart. The flow of blood was blocked. They told me she passed quickly.”

“And she had no prior heart problems?”

Gabby shook her head.

“So you’re raising the baby.”

“Yes.” She lifted her chin, daring him to question her authority where Phoebe was concerned. Then it hit her—if this guy wasn’t Sam… “Exactly who are you?”

“Dylan Kingsley. Sam’s stepbrother.” He extended his hand. She reluctantly shook it, and he could read every question running through her beautiful slate-gray eyes. Why was he here and how would his showing up affect her life? He’d prepared answers for both questions before arriving.

He wasn’t going to lie to her—not exactly. He simply couldn’t tell her the whole truth. Not until he was reasonably sure she was raising his niece with love and stability. Two things he’d been deprived of as a child.

Gabrielle Stover sure wasn’t what he’d expected—but then, he hadn’t known what to expect. The internet search he’d done on her hadn’t given him much to go on besides age—twenty-seven, four years younger than him. She had no social media profiles. Neither did he. First impressions? She was professional and not happy to see him. But why would she be? She didn’t know him.

“You’re Phoebe’s uncle.” She leaned back in her chair, eyeing him with suspicion. Her chestnut brown hair rippled over her shoulders in soft waves. The white blouse and crisp black pants she wore hugged a curvy but trim figure, and gave her the authority of someone in charge.

“Yes.” The instant he’d seen her in the hotel lobby, he’d been drawn to her. The blonde next to her with come-hither eyes had been safe, but Gabrielle? Not safe at all. She was his type, which meant she was all wrong for him. A beautiful, confident girl like her would want someone dependable, a man she could rely on. No one had depended on him in a long time. Not even his own father. Dad wouldn’t have sold his company, King Energy, without a word to him if he had. Worst of all, though, Dylan had failed the one person who once upon a time had relied on him—Sam.

“Why are you here?” Gabrielle pierced him with a laser-like stare. He tried not to squirm.

“I want to meet my niece.” Dylan planned on more than meeting the child. He intended to set up a trust fund for Phoebe and monthly child support, too. He could afford it. It was the least he could do for Sam’s little girl. But he wasn’t doing either until he knew for sure Gabrielle was raising the baby with love. And that meant keeping the fact he was a multimillionaire a secret.

What advice would his late father give in this situation? Dad would probably tell him not to screw it up.

Money had only bought him and his father trouble when it came to women.

At least Gabrielle would have to dig deep to find out Dylan was rich. He’d always gone by his middle name, and his father had been private to the point of almost being reclusive. The man never mentioned his son in the rare interviews he’d given. The first fifteen pages of results for Dylan Kingsley in any search engine displayed articles by an astrophysicist with the same name.

“Why now?” Cocking her head, she narrowed her eyes. “She’s nine months old. Allison and I repeatedly tried to contact him until six months ago. Why are you showing up here after all this time?”

“I didn’t know about the baby until last week.” It was the truth. But at the skeptical gleam in her eyes, he continued. “Sam died over a year ago. My father had a stroke and passed not long after. I hit the road. When I came back to Texas last week, it was the first I knew of the baby. Your letter had been sent to my address. Sam lived with me briefly before moving to Austin.”

“I’m sorry about your family.” She had the grace to appear contrite. “How did Sam die?”

He flexed his jaw. Thinking about his brother always ripped him up inside. Almost nine years younger than Dylan, Sam had come into his life as a happy five-year-old when Dylan’s mother married husband number three. Despite the age gap, Dylan and Sam had been close. And he’d let his little brother down. “Does it matter?”

Her eyes widened, lips parted to ask a question. He braced himself. But she didn’t speak.

“He’s gone, and he’s not coming back.” Dylan couldn’t bring himself to tell a stranger that Sam had died of a drug overdose. He wouldn’t let her think the worst about his brother. He still couldn’t believe his brother had been messing around with heroin. Worse, Dylan had been wallowing in his own problems and hadn’t taken Sam’s call the week he’d died. Could he have stopped him from overdosing?

He’d always regret it.

“It matters to me.” She leaned forward with her hands clasped on the desk. “I need to know Phoebe’s health history. If he had cancer or diabetes or heart problems…”

Fair enough. She had a point.

“It was an overdose—an accidental overdose.”

“Oh.”

Right about now would be when he’d expect her to ask about Sam’s estate—find out if Phoebe had inherited anything. His own mother would have dollar signs in her eyes in this situation. She’d used him to squeeze money out of his father countless times. And then there was Dylan’s ex-girlfriend. Robin not only dumped him when his dad sold King Energy, but she’d also had the nerve to try to get back together after finding out he’d inherited Dad’s fortune.

His niece would never be used as a pawn for money if he had anything to say about it.

“Were you close to him?” Gabrielle’s tone softened, and sympathy brightened her face.

“Yes, I was.” He hadn’t expected sympathy.

“I was close to Allison, too.” Her words broke at the end. “I miss her.”

The naked emotion touched him. He missed Sam, too. To distract himself, he studied her office. Paneled walls, jewel-toned carpet, an oak desk and two typical conference room chairs. A file cabinet stood to the side, and a potted tree was in the corner. The walls had two framed paintings of mountain scenes. No personal photos he could see.

Doting moms usually splattered pictures of their kids all over their offices. Why weren’t there any photos of the baby?

“So you work here, huh?” he said.

“I do. I’m the day manager.” It was as though an iron curtain fell over her earlier vulnerability. She straightened, all brisk and no-nonsense. “What did you say you’d been doing for the past year?”

Be careful what you say. “Moving around. This and that…”

“I see.” Disapproval radiated loud and clear through her pursed lips.

He doubted she did. Three days after his father’s funeral, he’d packed his bags and flown to France. Two weeks later, he’d moved on to Italy, then Germany, the Alps, Finland and wherever the wind had taken him. He wished he could say he’d enjoyed the traveling, but it had underscored his new reality.

He was alone. He had no purpose. And no amount of money or traveling would change it.

“Can I see the baby?” he asked.

“My shift ends soon.” She stood with her head high. “You can come over to my apartment around six to meet Phoebe.”

Surprised, he rose. He hadn’t expected her to allow him to see the baby so quickly.

“Here’s my address. It’s not far.” She scribbled it on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

“Thanks.” He slipped it into his back pocket.

She escorted him to the door, down the hall and back to the front desk. She wasn’t short, but he had at least six inches on her. She was a very attractive woman, reminding him of the fact he had to be careful where she was concerned. He couldn’t let chemistry affect his ability to size up her parenting skills.

“I’ll see you in a little while.” He put his cowboy hat back on and nodded to her before exiting. With nothing else to do, he figured he’d drive through the small town. It would be good to get a feel for the community his niece would be growing up in. If all went well, he’d meet the baby tonight and be satisfied she was in good hands.

Since Gabrielle thought he was just some guy off the street, she wouldn’t have any reason to put on a false motherly act to press him for money. If he got a sense of peace about her raising Phoebe, in the morning he’d tell her he was directing his attorney to set up the trust fund and child support. Then he’d…

A breeze caressed his face as he strode to the truck he’d rented.

What? What was he going to do next?

He didn’t know. He’d been wandering without direction for a long time. A night in Rendezvous, Wyoming, wasn’t going to cough up answers for him. He wished he knew what would.

“This visit isn’t going to change anything.” Gabby took Phoebe out of Eden’s arms and kissed the baby’s soft cheeks. Her giggles filled the small apartment Gabby called home. Eden Page was one of her best friends as well as Phoebe’s babysitter. Gabby usually picked up Phoebe from Eden’s, but today she’d asked her friend for a favor. “Thank you so much for bringing her over. I don’t have much time to get this place in shape. It was so weird having him show up like that. At first I thought he was the father. But he’s not. Sam died. He’s Sam’s stepbrother.”

“He died?” Eden’s expressive brown eyes oozed with compassion. “So Phoebe will never meet her daddy. That’s so sad.”

“I know. It is.”

“And this uncle wants to meet her, huh?” Eden set the diaper bag on the foyer floor. “That’s it?”

“Yes. At least that’s what he said.” She bit the right side of her bottom lip. “If he thinks I’m going to share custody with him, he’s fooling himself.”

“Did he say he wanted to?”

“No, but all the way home, I’ve been going through worst-case scenarios.”

“Remember what Babs always tells you. Don’t borrow trouble.” Eden scanned the living room and shrugged. “Your place looks good to me. I’ll give the kitchen a once-over if you’d like.”

“Would you? Oh, you are a lifesaver!” Gabby set Phoebe on the quilted mat in the living room and handed her a toy while Eden crossed over to the kitchen separated from the living room by a counter with bar stools. “How did the week go without having Noah around?”

“I miss him. He’s such a sweet little boy. But having all the one-on-one time with Phoebe is making up for it a little bit.”

Until last week, Eden had also been babysitting her nephew, Noah. But now that her brother-in-law, Mason, had gotten remarried, he and his new wife, Brittany, were splitting childcare duties and didn’t need Eden’s services anymore. Gabby envied Mason a tiny bit—he’d found someone to share his life with. Part of her wished she could have a relationship like theirs, too. But it wasn’t likely. She’d be the first to admit she had trust issues when it came to men.

“Not having Noah around must be a big change for you.” Gabby tossed a few toys into a basket.

“It is, and I hate change. But I can’t stop it.” Eden rinsed a mug. “By the way, I’m glad you invited this guy—Dylan, right?—over to meet the little sweetie. You wouldn’t want to deprive her of an uncle.”

“No, I couldn’t deprive her of an uncle.” A teeny part of her did want to deprive Phoebe of this particular one, though. If Dylan was anything like her own father or Carl, she wanted her niece as far from him as possible. At the moment, she didn’t see much difference between him and them, but she wasn’t being fair. She didn’t know him at all. “One thing’s for sure—we’re going to have a lot to talk about at this week’s meeting.”

“When don’t we?” Eden grinned.

Gabby, Eden, Mason and Nicole met every Tuesday at the inn for their support group. They’d all lost loved ones who’d been in the prime of their lives. Mason’s first wife, Mia, who was Eden’s older sister, had died of cancer six months after Noah was born. Gabby had lost Allison last year and Nicole’s husband died unexpectedly on Christmas Day due to complications from muscular dystrophy.

Eden glanced up. “How long did you say he’d be in town?”

“He didn’t say. I doubt long.” Keeping an eye on Phoebe, Gabby tidied the magazines on the end table. Dylan had drifter written all over him. If he’d been moving around for a year, doing who knew what after his father died…

It didn’t take much of a stretch of the imagination to figure out the guy didn’t have a job, didn’t have roots. Maybe he’d come into a small inheritance and rather than put it toward his future, he was running through it like a fool. Or he could be like her daddy, latching on to a new woman in each town to support him. Both scenarios spelled deadbeat. The muscles in her neck tightened.

“I’m fine with him meeting Phoebe, but I can tell you right now, I’m not going to have her influenced by some charming, shifty cowboy who will only let her down. If he wants to visit now and then, fine, but not unsupervised. And there will be rules.”

“Is he charming? What does he look like?” Eden closed the dishwasher door and returned to the living room. She knelt on the floor by Phoebe, who clapped her hands with glee. Gabby said a silent prayer of thanks she’d been blessed to have Eden caring for the baby while she worked. The woman was a gift from the good Lord.

“I don’t know. He’s…attractive.” She made the word sound as bad as an infectious skin disease. Attractive wasn’t a good trait on this guy. “The way Stella was flirting, you’d think she’d have accepted a marriage proposal from him on the spot.”

“Stella flirts with every guy under forty.”

“True.” Gabby hustled down the hall, stowed a laundry basket in her bedroom and loped back. “Here, I can take her.”

“Why don’t you change quick?” Eden said. “You’ll feel better in your jeans.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind? You know I could eat this little dumpling up.” Eden scrunched her nose at Phoebe and tickled her tummy. Throaty baby laughter filled the air.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She raced to her room and donned her best jeans and a blouse patterned in various shades of red. With a quick brush of her hair and a swipe of tinted lip gloss, she was ready to face whatever came her way. She returned to the living room, and Eden handed her the baby. The air filled with her little gurgles.

“I can tell you’re worried about this situation,” Eden said. “But there’s no reason to get worked up. He’s not the father. And you are her legal guardian. You call the shots.”

“You’re right.” She shifted Phoebe to her hip. “I guess I’ve been scared for a long time, always worrying Sam would show up one day and take her from me.” She considered herself a rational person. She wasn’t gullible—not anymore, anyway—and she tried to do the right thing. Why was she so agitated?

Something about him reminds me of Daddy. Of Carl. And I don’t allow men like them in my life anymore.

“He’s not the enemy.” Eden frowned. “Unless… Did you get a weird vibe from him? Do you think he might be shady? Dangerous? We should call my dad to come over and supervise. No one would dare mess with you with Dad scowling at him.”

“No, he seemed fine.” She let out a little chuckle. “I don’t need a chaperone. I can take care of myself.” And she could. She’d taken care of herself and Allison all through their teen years and beyond. And now it was her privilege to take care of Phoebe.

“Well, try not to worry, then.” Eden hugged her. “You’re the most welcoming person I know. You’ll get off on the right foot with him for Phoebe’s sake. I know you.”

“Thanks, Eden.”

“If you’re sure you don’t want me around, I guess I’ll take off. Call me the instant he leaves.”

“I will.” She held Phoebe tightly. “Thanks again.”

After seeing Eden to the door, she took the baby to the couch and selected a children’s book from the basket below the end table. For now, she’d try to keep things as normal as possible. And that meant concentrating on Phoebe and not worrying about Dylan.

He’d meet the baby and leave.

Life wouldn’t change.

If she kept telling herself that, maybe it wouldn’t.

Hopefully, this uncle would breeze out of their lives as suddenly as he’d breezed in.

She’d just have to keep a level head until he did.

Chapter Two

In and out. Nice and easy. Dylan stared at the 3B on the door inside the apartment building. All he had to do was observe Gabrielle interacting with his niece for a while. He’d know the baby was in good hands, and his gut was telling him Gabrielle wasn’t like his mother or his ex. For his niece’s sake, he hoped she wasn’t. Worst-case scenario? He’d stay in Rendezvous through the weekend to make sure.

After two sharp knocks the door opened, and he straightened, raising himself up to full height. The woman before him had shed her no-nonsense manager outfit to wear formfitting jeans and a colorful shirt, revealing toned arms. She looked younger, less closed off than she had at the inn. Her hair still fell loose around her shoulders. He wanted to touch it.

Touch her hair? If he’d been worried about chemistry before, he needed to up his composure tenfold.

At the sight of the baby on her hip, his heart hiccupped. Seeing the child in the flesh was a precious gift—a piece of Sam lived in the bouncing baby girl. With dark curls grazing her neck, rosy cheeks and huge dark blue eyes, she looked as healthy and happy as a child could be. She stuck out her tongue and blew bubbles at him.

“Come in. I hope you found my place okay.” Gabrielle held the door open, and he took off his hat as he entered. The apartment itself was beige, on the small side and could use some TLC. The red living room furniture added color to the mix, and the dining table held a vase full of daisies. It was welcoming, he’d give her that. She led him to the living room. “Have a seat.”

He lowered his frame onto the couch, not sure what to do.

“This is Phoebe Ann Stover.” She smiled at the child with so much tenderness, he almost looked away. He’d never been the recipient of that level of affection. What would it be like to have someone adore him? “She’s nine months old, sleeps through the night, loves sweet potatoes and scrambled eggs, but then again, she’ll eat anything I put in front of her. She’s a happy baby. Sweet as can be.”

Sleeping through the night was good, right? Were babies supposed to eat eggs and sweet potatoes? He knew nothing about children. He peered at Phoebe, who held her arms out to him, opening and closing her chubby hands. He hadn’t held a baby before. Gabrielle wouldn’t expect him to pick her up, would she?

“Want to hold her?” Gabrielle’s expression held no malice, but he could see she had questions she wasn’t asking. That made two of them.

“Umm…”

The baby lunged for him, and Gabrielle laughed. “Well, it looks like you don’t have a choice.”

Before he knew it, the bundle of energy was in his hands. He held her an arm’s length away, then eased her closer until her little bare feet rested on his thighs. Soon she was bouncing, her giggles filling the air. She was strong. Watching her push her little legs up and down with so much gusto made him chuckle. Instinctively, he drew her closer. She pressed her palms against his cheeks, and he pretended to blow out a mouthful of air. She laughed. How could such an itty-bitty thing produce such a hearty sound? Someday he’d have to break it to her he wasn’t a great comedian.

Someday? It implied an ongoing relationship, and he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“I think it’s safe to say she likes her uncle Dylan.” Gabrielle wore a wistful expression. “Do you want something to drink?”

Uncle Dylan. He liked the sound of it.

“No, thanks.” He made a silly face, and Phoebe laughed harder. She had Sam’s eyes. Everything else must have come from her mother. Had Sam even known he was about to have a baby? If his brother could have seen the little girl, he might have had a reason to say no to drugs.

Dylan handed Phoebe back to Gabrielle. She tucked the child on her lap. The baby squirmed, but Gabrielle kept a firm grip on her, distracting her with a pastel bunny that rattled when shaken.

“Would you mind telling me more about her father?” She licked her lips nervously. “I don’t have much to go on at this point. When she’s older, she’ll want to know about him. All Allison said was she saw him playing guitar with a rock band at a bar in Austin. They both had too much to drink, and a month later, she realized she was pregnant.”

He winced. Hearing Sam summed up like that didn’t do his brother justice. What could he tell her to give an accurate picture of the funny, sensitive kid he’d known and loved?

“Sam was a great guy. He loved music and practiced guitar constantly. School wasn’t his strong suit. He opted not to go to college so he and his band could try to get noticed. He worked hard at it. Moved to Austin after high school and played with anyone who would let him. Music meant a lot to him.”

He wasn’t going to bring up Sam’s drug use. He still struggled to make sense of how his talented brother could have thrown away his life on that junk. If he would have checked on Sam more often, maybe he would have noticed the signs.

“How old was he?” she asked.

“Twenty-one.”

“The same age Allison was. Do you have a picture?”

He nodded and took out his phone. He scrolled through until he found one from two Christmases ago. At the sight of Sam’s smiling face, his chest tightened uncomfortably. The hardest part of the past year was knowing he couldn’t talk to or see his brother. One minute they were celebrating Christmas together, the next he was gone.

“What about your sister?” he asked. “What was she like?”

Her face lit up. “She was special. An absolute sweetheart. She, too, skipped college, and worked at the reception desk of a dental practice here in town. I don’t want you to think she went around sleeping with guys all the time. It wasn’t her personality at all. She…well, I think she must have felt stifled after high school. The nine-to-five grind and living in a small town got to her. A few of her girlfriends decided to fly down to Texas for a weekend, and that’s when she met your brother.”

The baby let out a sound he could only describe as the hoot of an owl. He met Gabrielle’s eyes. They both started laughing.

“Well, I guess that lightened the moment.” She hugged Phoebe and kissed the top of her head. “So, Dylan, I don’t mean to be blunt, but what exactly do you want? You came a long way. What are your intentions with Phoebe?”

How to answer? He didn’t know. He’d assumed he’d check on his niece, make sure she was being raised with love, do what he could to provide for the girl’s future and move on as if he’d never met them. He hadn’t even considered being part of her life—in any capacity—until tonight.

Seeing the baby with Sam’s eyes altered his view, though. What else did his niece inherit from his brother? His musical talent? His sense of humor? Dylan wanted to find out.

“Gabrielle—”

“Call me Gabby.”

“Okay, Gabby.” Actually, in her home environment she seemed more like a Gabby than a Gabrielle. He shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know what I want.”

“I’ve raised Phoebe since the second she came home from the hospital. She’s like my own child. I’m her legal guardian…”

He inwardly cringed. He hadn’t realized she thought he might want to fight for custody or visitation rights or something. In fact, he hadn’t considered how his showing up would affect Gabby at all.

You’ve been wrapped up in your own world for too long.

“I’m not here to claim any rights—I know nothing about raising babies.” He held up his hands, palms out. “I just wanted to meet her.”

But it wasn’t true—not the last part at least. He’d also wanted to check out her living situation and financially support her.

“Well, you met her.”

He scanned the room. Tidy. Neat. Although nothing like the luxurious home he grew up in or the high-end condo he owned in Dallas, this apartment felt warm and inviting. The baby seemed to be in good care. He could leave with a clear conscience.

But he didn’t want to.

“I loved Sam. Miss him. This is his child. I want to be part of her life.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, his stomach clenched. It was the first commitment he’d made in a long time. Was he up to being part of his niece’s life? He quickly added, “You know, visit her at times and send her birthday presents and stuff.”

“I see.” The muscle in her cheek flexed. “What you’re asking for is fair. But I need to know more about you. I have to know you’ll be a good influence on her.”

He frowned. She didn’t think he’d be a good influence on his own niece? She’d deduced this from the short time they’d been together? He wasn’t sure what to think about that. Most people fell all over themselves sucking up to him and trying to win his favor.

But that was because they knew he was rich.

And Gabby didn’t.

What would she do if he told her how much he was worth? Would she manipulate him to get her hands on some of the money? His own mother had done it many times. His ex, Robin, had tried, too.

On the other hand, if she didn’t know his background, would she find him worthy of being in Phoebe’s life?

Was he worthy? He ran his finger under his collar.

He’d been having an identity crisis for a year. When had he lost his confidence?

When Dad sold the company without even considering letting me run it.

“I’m starving. Why don’t I order a pizza and we can discuss this further?” Gabby rose, lifting Phoebe high in the air. Her little legs kicked as she laughed.

Pizza sounded good. After a year of gourmet meals, high-end hotels and surface conversations, talking to Gabby sounded even better. Normal, even.

How long had it been since he’d been treated like any other guy?

Not in grade school. Certainly not running around with other rich kids at prep school. College—nope—still hanging out with wealthy peers. The four years he’d worked in upper management at King Energy had ensured his days were spent in board meetings, on the golf course or reviewing the performance of the managers below him.

His old world no longer existed. For once he wanted to be an average Joe. But he’d have to be careful not to let Gabby guess his true background. He wouldn’t outright lie to her, but he’d be stingy with details.

The trust fund, the child support could wait. Just until he knew her better. Then he’d tell her the truth.

Why had she invited him to stay for pizza? Gabby paid the delivery guy and carried the steaming box to the kitchen counter. Her stupid heart had softened when he’d talked about his brother. It hadn’t been an act, either. Sam’s death had broken something inside him—just as Allison’s death had done to her. Her pity had kicked in, and she’d invited him to stay without thinking it through.

What had Eden said earlier? She was the most welcoming person she knew. Gabby scoffed. Not a good trait in this situation. She really had to put a clamp on her invitation-prone mouth.

“Let me help with that.” Dylan held out a twenty-dollar bill.

“No, thanks. I’ve got it.” She shook her head. “I was ordering one tonight no matter what.”

“Really, I want to—”

“No, you’re my guest.” She held out her hand. “I’ll grab a few plates.”

At least he’d offered to pay. But then, Carl had at first, too.

She might as well figure out Dylan’s work situation while she had him here. Phoebe was playing with the toys attached to the tray of the jumper seat near the couch, so Gabby pulled out a stack of paper plates and napkins from the cupboard. After grabbing slices of pizza, they returned to the living room. She sat on the couch, and he took a chair. Even several feet away, his presence filled the room. He seemed bigger, stronger—more appealing in general—here in her apartment than he had at the inn. And he’d been something special there.

This wasn’t a good turn of events. She’d already known she was attracted to him, so encouraging more interaction with him wasn’t smart.

She bit into her slice, oozing with mozzarella and pepperoni. Maybe he wasn’t slathering on the charm like Carl had, but she knew next to nothing about this strapping cowboy. He could be buttering her up for his own purposes. She needed to find out more about him.

“What do you do for a living, Dylan?”

He finished chewing. “I’m not employed at the moment.”

Bingo. Unemployed. She’d pegged him as a no-good cowboy the instant she’d seen him, and she always trusted her instincts.

“What kind of work did you do in the past?” She tried not to appear too eager for his answer. What had he said he’d been doing for the past year? Something about this and that. Hardly reassuring. He probably went from job to job when he got bored or restless.

“I guess you could say I work for hire.”

The cheese stuck in her throat. Just like Daddy. Just like Carl. They’d both traveled as cowboys for hire. Her father also occasionally had taken trucking gigs. Knowing Dylan was like the two men who’d let her down put her in a pickle. She had firm rules about cowboys—specifically about not dating them. But how did the rules apply to a relative of Phoebe?

“Is that what you’ve been doing since your father and Sam died? You mentioned being on the road for the past year.”

“Sort of.” He took a sip of soda. “I took time off. Needed to work through some stuff.”

How was he paying his bills if he’d been taking time off and traveling? If he was like Daddy, he was probably skimming money from a girlfriend or two. She liked her other idea better—that he was blowing through a small inheritance. But then, she couldn’t assume he’d inherited anything. His mom might still be alive.

“Did your mother take your father’s death hard?”

He choked and thumped his chest a few times. “Sorry. No, I doubt she’s given him a second thought.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she quickly closed it.

“They divorced when I was a toddler. No love lost there.”

“Did he remarry? And Sam came into your life through the new wife?”

“Dad never remarried. I’m his only child. Sam came into the picture with Mom’s third husband.”

So his mother had married Sam’s father. Made sense. Didn’t answer her question of how Dylan was supporting himself, though.

“It’s awfully hard to take so much time off when you have bills to pay.” She tried not to sound judgmental. But seriously, if he was taking time off and wandering around, how was he dealing with his responsibilities? Every adult had those.

His eyes sharpened and narrowed, but he didn’t say a word.

“How have you been supporting yourself?” She didn’t care if it was forward. She needed to know—for Phoebe’s sake. For her own. And she’d see right through him if he lied to her. She’d gotten good at sifting fact from fiction.

“I don’t need much.”

Hmm…he wanted to play the ambiguous answer game, did he? She wasn’t born yesterday.

“That’s a nice truck you drove to the inn earlier.”

“It’s a rental.” His eyes were unreadable. Warning flags waved in her brain. This back and forth reminded her of Carl, but back then she’d been a naive teenager. She’d wanted to accept every lie he told her. She’d believed the best in him. And she shouldn’t have.

Most welcoming person or not, she wasn’t putting up with any games Dylan wanted to play. Phoebe was too important. Her niece would not grow up being jerked around by some unreliable guy pretending to be something he wasn’t. She should know. Until she was eleven years old, she’d thought her father was the greatest man alive. But cold hard facts had shattered her notions about him.

“Look, I know we just met.” She set the plate on the end table and locked eyes with his. “In any other circumstances, it would be insulting for me to ask you what I’m about to ask. But this is my niece, and I can’t let her be around someone who isn’t reliable. Where are you getting your money to live on?”

He blinked once, twice, three times. Then his expression became unreadable. “My dad left me a little something.”

Relief spread through her like rain over a dry prairie. She’d been right. He’d come into some cash. Blowing through a small inheritance she could handle. Preying on gullible, lonely women, she could not.

“And you returned home because the money’s running out?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “That’s fair.”

He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything.

“What are you going to do next?” She wiped her hands off on a napkin.

“I’m not sure.” His face fell.

There was something broken about him. She knew broken. If it wasn’t for the baby, she probably would have fallen apart a long time ago. The brittleness edging her curiosity softened.

“You’re struggling with their deaths, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He nodded, setting his plate aside. “I am. No matter where I go, it doesn’t change the fact they’re gone.”

“The traveling… Have you been trying to escape?”

“Maybe.” He drew his eyebrows together. “Looking back… I guess I might have been.”

“Does anything help you with the grief?” She’d been blessed with her support group—their prayers and meetings each week had gotten her through the toughest of times.

“Somewhat.” Their gazes locked, and the connection between them could not be denied. Flutters filled her chest. “My faith helps me hobble through.”

“It gets me through, too. I know I’ll see Allison someday.”

“I’m glad.” He sighed, dropping his elbows to his knees. “Faith wasn’t part of my life until a few years ago. As for Dad and Sam… I don’t know what they believed.” He arched his eyebrows.

Her and her big mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think before I spoke.”

“It’s okay.” He seemed to see right through her. “You meant well.”

Phoebe started to fuss. She was probably hungry. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to fix her a bottle.”

A few minutes later, she took Phoebe out of the jumper seat and set her on her lap with the bottle. The baby snuggled in her arms as she drank it. This was one of Gabby’s favorite parts of the day. There was nothing more relaxing than having Phoebe cradled in her arms.

“Did you grow up around here?” He had an intent gleam in his eye as he watched them.

“No, Allison and I moved here to take care of our grandma after I graduated from high school. Allison was going into eighth grade.” She caressed Phoebe’s forehead, trying not to dwell on the other reason they’d moved to Rendezvous. She’d finally seen Carl’s true colors. The man she’d dated during her senior year of high school had been living a double life. She’d grown up fast after that.

“What happened to your parents?”

“Oh, they’re still alive and well. Mama lives down in Laramie with her boyfriend, and Daddy is probably charming some widow in Montana. I don’t talk to them much anymore.”

“And it’s just you and the baby? No husband?” He didn’t seem to be fishing about her love life with an ulterior motive, but what did she know?

“No, just us.”

“And you plan on staying here?”

She laughed. “Oh, yeah, Rendezvous is home. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I have good friends here, and I love working at the inn…” She proceeded to tell him about her job and how she loved the town. He asked about the area and before she knew it, an hour had passed.

“I should get going.” He stood and took his plate into the kitchen. Then he walked over and touched Phoebe’s cheek. “You take care now, little one.”

“What’s next?” Gabby stood, carrying the baby, and followed him to the door.

“I don’t know. Let’s sleep on it and talk tomorrow.”

“Okay.” She frowned. “You can stop by after noon.”

He put on his hat, tipped it to her and left. After locking the door behind him, Gabby carried Phoebe back to the couch and stretched out on it. Impressions tangled in her mind.

She wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was easy to talk to—too easy. In fact, she’d done all the talking. She pressed her hand against her forehead. What was wrong with her? She was supposed to be finding out if he was worthy of being part of Phoebe’s life, not gushing about how much she loved Rendezvous.

Still, he had shown his vulnerability when it came to the deaths of his brother and father. But as far as his work history, his future plans…she’d completely flaked out on getting any concrete answers.

And once again she’d invited him over.

In all his travels, he hadn’t found this.

Dylan drove across Silver Rocks River and turned onto Centennial Street to drive through downtown Rendezvous. After 7:30 p.m., the sun was still out. Families entered and exited the few restaurants along the street, and once he passed the main businesses, a line appeared around an ice cream stand—the Dipping Dream. He slowed and pulled into a spot in front of a park. Green grass was dotted with picnic tables where people were barbecuing. The smell of grilled burgers reminded him summer had arrived. Rendezvous made it look slower, more fun than he was used to.

Little girls and boys stood near the playground equipment taking turns lassoing a fence post. He chuckled as one of the boys stuck out his tongue and a girl threw down her rope and began chasing him. They looked like they were having a good time.

From what he’d seen of the town, it appeared to be a place where everyone knew each other. He got out of the truck and enjoyed the warm breeze. A white gazebo was nestled in the park. Mature pines partially hid a ball diamond from his view, and he could just make out what appeared to be seven-year-old girls playing softball. Shouts erupted. Proud grandparents and parents stood up cheering.

An unexpected longing hit his heart. This was what community meant. Ice cream stands, barbecues with friends, peewee ball games—all things he’d missed out on as a kid. He hadn’t realized until this moment that he was still missing out on them.

Would Phoebe play softball? Would Gabby be in the stands jumping up to cheer her on?

Of course, Gabby would cheer the girl on. It was obvious she loved the baby. Who wouldn’t love the girl with her chubby cheeks and cheerful smile?

Earlier when he’d watched Gabby holding her and giving her the bottle, something had shifted inside him. The maternal picture they presented had kicked up a longing he’d never had before. For a brief moment, he’d wanted a child and a wife of his own who would love a baby the way Gabby did Phoebe.

“Na na na na na!” Up ahead, two little girls taunted a group of boys. Another round of chasing ensued. He shook his head. Kids being kids.

Gabby had been easy to talk to. The one red flag he’d had about her was when she’d probed into his financial situation. Why did she want to know what he’d been doing and how he’d been supporting himself for the past year? And what had the comment about his nice truck meant? Had she been trying to figure out how much money he had?

“Charlie!” A brunette in her early twenties waved to a couple of guys strolling toward the metal bleachers.

“Hey, Misty,” one said without breaking stride. “You watching the game? Emma’s playing.”

“I was on my way to get a sundae, but I might as well join you.” She jogged over to them, and they all laughed about something. Their camaraderie deepened the stirring he’d been feeling for the past few hours.

Man, he was tired of being alone. He turned in the direction of Dipping Dream.

As he’d listened to Gabby talk about her life and friends here in Rendezvous, he’d found himself wishing she’d keep talking for hours. She seemed so genuine. And when she’d asked, “What next?” he’d had no idea how to respond.

What was next?

He supposed he should return to Dallas to set up the trust fund and child support. It had been a year since he’d checked in with any of his old friends. They’d been growing apart for a long time, though. The only people he’d had contact with at all this year were his lawyer and his financial advisor.

The thought of checking out of Mountain View Inn tomorrow and putting his life back together in Texas weighed on him. He didn’t know how to put it together. It all seemed meaningless without…

Maybe it was time to face facts. He’d spent his entire life trying to impress his father and get his attention. Now that Dad was gone, there wasn’t anyone to impress.

Dylan slowed as he neared the ice cream stand. He had to figure out what to do with his life. No more traveling around the world, delaying the inevitable.

What would it hurt to spend the rest of the weekend here? He could get to know Phoebe better and find out more information about how Gabby planned on raising her.

Come to think of it, he didn’t know much about either of them. He’d gotten so mesmerized listening to Gabby talk about the town, he’d barely asked any questions at all. He didn’t know her ideas on school and extracurricular activities. Who babysat his niece while she worked? What church did Gabby attend? Would she spoil the baby or be strict? Did she plan on having fun birthday parties for the girl? How would they celebrate Christmas? Would he be invited?

As he fell into the back of the line, relief mingled with peace.

Yes, he’d stay a few days and gather more info. He’d find out how Gabby intended to raise Phoebe. And if he didn’t like what she said, he might have to speak up. In fact, he might have to be more involved with the baby than he originally intended. Money was a poor substitute for a flesh and blood person who cared. He should know.

His niece deserved an uncle she could depend on.

But what if he let her down the way he had his father and Sam?

He firmed his shoulders as Phoebe’s smiling face played in his mind. He’d have to be someone she could depend on.

He couldn’t live with himself if he let her down, too.

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