Page 23 of The Cowboy's Secret Babies

“Rosie.” His voice sounded deep and urgent, but he couldn’t change it when he heard it. It was the only tone that fit. “Twenty-four hours ago, I didn’t know that we made anything that night but memories. I had no idea I had one child, much less two. You want to sit here and talk visitation rights and custody battles and whatever else? I’m not there yet. I’m still trying to understand how the hell I’m supposed to turn myself into a father overnight. Meanwhile, I think you and I both know there’s no possible way your cousins didn’t tell everyone in town.”

She bristled at that, just a little, but he saw it.

“They’re mine,” she said. “Same way they’ve always been. Nothing to talk about.”

“Sure,” he said. “Except the part where you’ve made sure that I’ll always be known as a deadbeat dad.”

She opened her mouth and then shut it again.

Ryder took that as reluctant agreement. “I’m starting off behind, that’s all I’m saying. Explain to me how you think I should go from not having the slightest idea that those boys exist to worrying about beingcivilizedin less than a day. Do you think you could do that? Because I have to say, I don’t think I’m being unreasonable that I’m finding this a little… That I’m finding thisa lot.”

He said all of that a little too quickly, maybe. A little too intently. It was the best he could do with all the competing storms crashing around inside of him.

Then he braced himself, because he really thought she was going to blow up at him, but she didn’t.

Something changed in her face. Her eyes softened. She looked at him like she was trying to take him in for a long moment, then away.

He couldn’t tell what she was looking at. The snow. The hills. The whisps of smoke from other people’s chimneys that made the air smell rich and woodsy.

When she looked back she seemed to see too much of him. But instead of backing away, she gave him a jerky sort of nod.

“You better come inside,” she said quietly, like there was the same sense of something like inevitability, or fate, heavy in her chest, too.

Then she opened the door wider and let him in.

Chapter Five

“So now thatwe’ve all gotten past theoh my Godpart and thehow did I not see this from the beginningpart,” Matilda said one evening in the early part of March, “can we go back to theyou’ve seen Ryder Careynaked part?”

Rosie froze, her fork halfway up toward her mouth.

They were sitting in their brother Jack’s house, which had once been the caretaker’s house up on the top of the hill, next to the lodge. Maybe it was still the caretaker’s house, given that Jack was the one leading the slow and steady charge to restore the old lodge and open it again. Tonight Rosie was just glad that there were no parents, grandparents, or other historic personages of note around to hearthatcome out of Matilda’s mouth. And thank goodness the boys were in the other room, completely entranced by one of the cartoons they loved.

Matilda was smiling innocently at Rosie from across the table. For his part, Jack looked like he would love nothing more than to walk out the back door and fling himself off the nearest mountain.

Rosie felt the same.

“Matilda,” Jack said in that disappointed voice of his. “I am trying to eat my dinner.”

Matilda waved a dismissive hand. “He’s a remarkably good-looking man, Jack. I’m sorry for you that you can’t see that. Truly I am.”

“I’m aware that he’s not a troll,” Jack said with a sigh. “But I’m also aware that the topic is probably a sensitive subject around here.”

Then Jack and Matilda set about exchangingimportant looks, hefty with meaning, as if Rosie was so fragile that a simple mention of Ryder’s name might shatter her into pieces where she sat.

When surely if that was going to happen, it would have happened already.

She lowered her fork and stabbed it into the heap of buttery spaghetti smothered in Jack’s signature sauce in front of her, so violently she made herself smile.

“Thank you for this frankly unnerving show of sympathy,” she said, smiling tightly at Jack. “But of all the people sitting at this table, I’m the one who’s always known the truth about Ryder Carey. And no, Matilda, I don’t mean his pectoral muscles.”

Though they were splendid, as she recalled.

“I bet they’re amazing,” her sister muttered, making Rosie wonder if Matilda could read the truth about Ryder’s truly stunning physique on Rosie’s face, and if she could… could everyone? Could Jack? The very idea made her want to cringe off into the snow. “And to think. There’stwoof him.”

Rosie kept her smile welded onto her face. It was one of the greatest accomplishments of her college career. Because here’s what she’d learned in her sorority at UT. The more she smiled, the more peoplebelievedthat smile, and it didn’t matter if she was screaming on the inside.

“There’s been a lot of talk about the situation,” Jack said gruffly, returning his attention to his food. “You know how folks like to talk around here. How are you holding up?”

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