Marriage at the Cowboy's Command

He’d accomplish this errand for Hassan as quickly as possible. Then he’d figure out once and for all what was behind Hassan’s obsessive interest in Caitlyn.

Not that he hadn’t tried to find out after Hassan had met her at Keeneland. When Luke hadn’t reacted to the Wakefield name, Hassan had pressed, asking him if he’d known Caitlyn Wakefield personally.

“Yes, I worked for her father.”

“And? Did you care for her?”

“It doesn’t matter. Her mother fired me. I left Texas and never saw any of them again. Why do you want to know?”

“You don’t talk about Texas much.”

“I’m not all that proud of who I was in Texas, or of how people treated me. It’s something I’ve tried to put behind me.”

He’d thought that was the end of it. Then Hassan had asked Caitlyn to help him with Sahara and had invited Luke to Deauville without telling him he’d hired Caitlyn as Sahara’s trainer. When Luke had seen her working with the stallion, he’d asked Hassan again why he was so interested in her. It would have been so much easier to use a world-class French trainer instead of bringing Caitlyn from the States.

Again, Hassan had been evasive, saying only that her advice had saved him from making a particularly disastrous purchase.

“Why did you invite me to dine with the two of you?”

Luke had asked. “It’s as if you are determined to get us together.”

“Sometimes we are rash in our youth. Sometimes it’s a mistake to lose touch with old friends.”

“Not in this case.”

“You could be wrong, my son.”

“Well, I won’t come for dinner if you insist on including her.”

“I do insist on her presence tonight.”

“Then I’ll pass.”

“You shall be missed, my son.”

Hassan’s stubborn behavior and fascination with Caitlyn made no sense, but Luke would get to the bottom of it. Then, hopefully, within the week, he’d be home with Teresa.

Luke saw a flash of movement out the window. A handsome blood bay horse, ridden by a small figure, sprang across the road right in front of the limo. The driver honked and hit the brakes too fast and too hard. The bay spooked and started bucking.

Tires squealing, the limo fishtailed in a swirl of gravel, sliding to a standstill in front of a prickly pear cactus. The pages of Steve’s report came loose and flew all over the limo’s plush interior.

The riderless red horse plunged wildly away from the veils of dust near the car, racing across the depopulated landscape. Then he stopped and circled back, staring at something on the ground. When the dust settled, Luke saw a small boy lying still and lifeless on the road.

Luke leaped out of the limo at the same moment as his driver.

“I didn’t see him, sir! Not until it was nearly too late!”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Luke assured the man.

“He came out of nowhere.”

“See to the car.” Luke strode toward the prostrate boy, who’d stirred at the sound of their voices.

A cowboy came running from the pasture. “The boy, he got away from me, señor.”

When the kid moaned, Luke felt some of his tension ease. The car hadn’t hit the boy. He’d just been bucked. Maybe he was okay. At the same age, Luke had ridden just as recklessly and had taken many a hard fall without doing permanent damage. In some ways, kids were tougher than adults.

Careless of the fine wool and silk blend of his custom-made suit, Luke knelt on the ground beside the boy.

The kid groaned and sat up, blinking at him suspiciously. The boy’s red-checked cowboy shirt was torn in two places. He raised a quick, thin hand to shade his tanned brow, squinting at the brilliant afternoon sun coming from behind Luke. The boy’s lips parted in a gap-toothed grin.

“You okay …?” Luke began, feeling a jolt of recognition.

“Sorry, mister. I …”

The kid had jet black hair and green eyes—green eyes that were the exact same shade as his own.

Luke’s gut twisted. Emerald eyes stared straight into his for an endless moment, during which Luke felt something near his heart shift.

Luke didn’t believe in coincidences, and Hassan placed an inordinate value on sons. Was this boy the answer? Did Hassan think …?

Had Hassan seen Caitlyn’s son and noticed the resemblance to Luke? Had Hassan met the boy at Keeneland?

Suddenly Luke couldn’t breathe. It was as if a band had wrapped around his chest and squeezed. In a weird panic—he never panicked—he fought to ignore dozens of questions that bombarded his stunned mind.

“I asked you if you’re okay?” Luke’s voice was hard and strange, unrecognizable. “Anything hurt? Broken? Are you dizzy?”

The kid felt real. The rest of his life—London, Teresa, his businesses, his unstoppable ambition, even Hassan—belonged to a dream that had nothing to do with his life, which was here.

“I’m fine, but I’ve got to catch that damn Demon before he bolts for the barn and I have to walk all the way back.”

“Don’t cuss.”

“Sorry!”

The kid didn’t look the least bit sorry as he sat up and got ready to spring to his feet.

Luke put a hand on his shoulder. “Not so fast. Why don’t you sit here a minute or two, catch your breath.”

“I said I’m okay,” the boy protested impatiently, looking defiant.

Just as Luke would have done at the same age.

“Right. And I say it’s too soon to be so sure. What’s your name?”

“Daniel.” His bottom lip curling, the kid stared at the ground.

“You got a last name?”

“‘Course I do! Wakefield.” There was fierce pride in his low tone, the kind of pride Luke had never felt for his biological father. When the kid tried unsuccessfully to shake loose from Luke’s iron grip, his bottom lip grew even more prominent.

“My name’s Luke Kilgore.”

“Glad to meet you, Mr. Kilgore,” Daniel said automatically.

“Glad to meet you, too.”

The boy on the ground didn’t look a thing like the blond, blue-eyed Wakefield bunch. Luke’s mind raced backward.

“How old are you, Daniel?” Luke asked slowly, as unwanted pressure pounded in his temples.

This couldn’t be happening. But it was. The angry kid looked just like he’d looked at the same age.

“Five.”

The number was a sucker punch in the gut.

Damn her. Was this why she had married Wakefield so quickly? Had she been pregnant? Had she slept with them both and hoped to pass off his baby as the wealthier Wakefield’s to get the ranch back? Had she despised the thought she might be carrying a Kilgore?

Luke clenched and unclenched his fists. When one speculated, one was usually wrong. What mattered now was finding out the truth.

“Does your mother know where you are?” Luke asked in a low, even tone. “That you were riding Demon bareback?”

The kid tensed and then lowered his eyes guiltily. “Sure. I was with Manuel, so it’s okay.”

“Right,” Luke said softly. “What do you say we catch Demon so the two of you can run along home, back to the ranch, so your mother won’t worry?”

“She’s not worrying. She’s too busy getting ready for her meeting with some guy.”

“That would be me.”

“Oh. Are you rich? Some car, huh? Long.” His eyes lit up. “Like a bus.”

“Not exactly. It’s called a limousine. Limo for short. What do you say we catch your horse?”

Luke and Daniel stood up together, and Manuel joined them. Demon’s ears shot forward and he whinnied. As Luke and the boy dusted themselves off, the blood bay gelding hung his head and licked his lips.

Good sign, Luke thought as Manuel slowly approached the horse.

The well-proportioned gelding didn’t run away. He stood docilely, allowing Manuel to retrieve the reins. Manuel swung himself onto the horse. Then Luke lifted Daniel up to the mounted man.

A shadow passed over Daniel’s face as he looked down. “I got you all dirty. You’re gonna tell Mom on me.”

“I’m not sure what I’ll say to her. But I’ll catch up to you two at the house,” Luke said, his tone hard as he dusted himself off again.

“Did you come to buy a horse or something?” the kid asked.

“Or something.”

“Good, ‘cause me and Mom could sure use the money.”

Money—had she married Wakefield because his daddy had been a banker and he’d owned Wild Horse Ranch? Or to give her baby a name?

When had she learned she was pregnant? Was her pregnancy the reason she hadn’t taken his calls or answered his letters?

“See you,” Daniel said, dismissing Luke casually.

Then the boy leaned forward with the ease of a natural rider. Soon boy, man and horse were cantering down the shoulder of the road while Luke stood still and silent, watching them.

Luke identified with that half-wild kid. Almost as if Luke was riding Demon himself, he felt the calves of those thin legs gripping the powerful animal. They were his legs, his knees squeezing tight, his lean body leaning forward, his hands lightly holding the reins. It was him urging the great creature faster, faster, until the ride became exhilarating.

“Breathe, Daniel. Don’t forget to breathe,” Luke whispered.

Then horse, boy and man were flying, airborne, united, and Luke’s own soul rushed after them. He hadn’t felt this alive in years.

What if the kid was his son?

No sooner had the trio melted into the haze of the horizon than a knot of longing formed in Luke’s throat. Should he have let Daniel back on the beast so soon? The boy had said he was fine, and he was with Manuel. But was the boy okay? What if he had a concussion?

Acute parental anxiety was new to him and made him feel foolish. The kid probably wasn’t even his. But whether he was or he wasn’t, Luke’s concern caused beads of sweat to break out on his brow.

Had Caitlyn wanted him gone so he wouldn’t find out about Daniel? Was that why she’d been afraid? If so, she was far more deceptive than he’d believed.

Luke wanted answers, and he wanted them now. Grabbing his cell, he punched in Hassan’s number. It was probably midnight Hassan’s time, but Luke didn’t give a damn.

As always, Hassan’s voice was warm with paternal interest in a way that Luke’s biological father’s never had been.

“Raffi. You had a safe journey? No problems?”

“Only one. I just met Daniel.”

There was a long silence before Hassan finally spoke. “I saw him at Keeneland. He looked so much like you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was right? He is yours, then?”

Three

As soon as his limo had returned to Caitlyn’s ranch and braked in front of the house, Luke flung open his door. He felt torn by the conflicting emotions raging inside him. He wished he’d never come to Texas; he was glad he’d come. He wished Hassan had leveled with him from the beginning; he was glad he’d seen the boy with his own eyes. He was furious at Caitlyn and yet filled with tenderness for her bravely defiant little son. He was in such an irrational state, he knew she was the last person he needed to talk to, but he wanted her to know that if the kid was theirs, he wouldn’t walk away from her or Daniel.

“The boy looked so much like you,” Hassan had said over the phone. “I couldn’t forget about him and do nothing. That is why I helped her. That is why I sent you and nobody else. If you are family, so are they.”

“You could have told me.”

“I was so struck by him when I saw him, I knew you would be, too. I know what it is … to nearly lose a son. I wanted you to see him for yourself. To be struck by him as I was.”

Oh, Luke felt struck, all right.

“There are some things a man must see and feel for himself, decide for himself,” Hassan had said.

Fisting his hands, Luke stormed toward the round pen and frowned when he found Lisa instead of Caitlyn. The young woman leaned against a railing, watching and listening to the commotion in her gooseneck trailer.

“Where’s Caitlyn?” he demanded.

“Ah, back so soon.” Lisa batted her long eyelashes boldly as she fingered the falls at the end of her quirt.

“Caitlyn better not be in that trailer with your horse!”

Her brows snapped together. Sucking in a miffed breath, she quit fiddling with her quirt. “Why not? She knows what she’s doing. Why, she’s almost got Ramblin’ Man loaded. And in record time. He can be a brute, that one.”

Luke’s fury and impatience vanished. The thought of Caitlyn in that tiny trailer with a huge, unpredictable stallion that had to weigh well over a thousand pounds made his gut clench. Was she suicidal? He wanted to scream at her to get the hell out of there, but of course he couldn’t do that without endangering her even more. So, instead, he moved soundlessly around the pen, taking a circuitous route so as not to spook the stallion. He’d wait behind the trailer until she’d safely loaded the horse.

When he reached his destination and she still hadn’t come out, his heart began to thud more forcefully. Then he heard her soothing voice, along with the nervous clatter of Ramblin’ Man’s hooves.

Why couldn’t the beast just load?

“No bees today,” she was saying in that feather-soft purr. “Nothing for a big boy like you to be scared of. Come on, baby, just one more step and you can go home. Don’t you want to go home?”

And then Luke’s cell phone rang.

Before Luke could shut it off, the horse had exploded, his head banging into the roof, which caused him to react even more wildly. Hooves banged. Caitlyn screamed. Ramblin’ Man, his eyes round, burst from the trailer faster than a rocket off a launchpad, dragging Caitlyn behind him by a slender foot. Somehow she’d gotten tangled in the longe line.

Easy to do in such tight, dimly lit quarters, he thought grimly.

With a cry of sheer terror, Lisa leaped out of the round pen so she could watch the drama from the other side of the railing without risking her own neck.

It had been a while since Luke had dealt directly with horses, but he remembered that when a fifteen-hundred-pound horse wanted to take one step, five men against his chest couldn’t stop him. Ramblin’ Man wanted out of the pen, and if somebody didn’t get him under control, he’d trample Caitlyn or drag her to death first.

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