Should Have Been Her Child

“Something happens to a man when he’s rejected by the woman he loves,”

Jess said. “It makes him keep wondering why.”

Victoria turned to him and drew in a ragged breath that seared her lungs. “We both know you never loved me, Jess. So don’t try to act like the injured soul.”

A tense moment passed. “You don’t know anything about me,” he said softly. “You never did.”

She swallowed, struggling to push down the tears that continued to scald her throat. “I know enough. I know that if you’d really wanted me, you wouldn’t have let me go. You wouldn’t have walked away. And you wouldn’t have waited four years to come back.”

“Maybe I was waiting for you to come to me.”

Dear Reader,

As you take a break from raking those autumn leaves, you’ll want to check out our latest Silhouette Special Edition novels! This month, we’re thrilled to feature Stella Bagwell’s Should Have Been Her Child (#1570), the first book in her new miniseries, MEN OF THE WEST. Stella writes that this series is full of “rough, tough cowboys, the strong bond of sibling love and the wide-open skies of the west. Mix those elements with a dash of intrigue, mayhem and a whole lot of romance and you get the Ketchum family!” And we can’t wait to read their stories!

Next, Christine Rimmer brings us The Marriage Medallion (#1567), the third book in her VIKING BRIDES series, which is all about matrimonial destiny and solving secrets of the past. In Jodi O’Donnell’s The Rancher’s Daughter (#1568), part of popular series MONTANA MAVERICKS: THE KINGSLEYS, two unlikely soul mates are trapped in a cave…and find a way to stay warm. Practice Makes Pregnant (#1569) by Lois Faye Dyer, the fourth book in the MANHATTAN MULTIPLES series, tells the story of a night of passion and a very unexpected development between a handsome attorney and a bashful assistant. Will their marriage of convenience turn to everlasting love?

Patricia Kay will hook readers into an intricate family dynamic and heart-thumping romance in Secrets of a Small Town (#1571). And Karen Sandler’s Counting on a Cowboy (#1572) is an engaging tale about a good-hearted teacher who finds love with a rancher and his young daughter. You won’t want to miss this touching story!

Stay warm in this crisp weather with six complex and satisfying romances. And be sure to return next month for more emotional storytelling from Silhouette Special Edition!

Happy reading!

Gail Chasan

Senior Editor

Should Have Been Her Child

Stella Bagwell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey,

an angel who keeps me on the right course.

And to all the editors I work with at Silhouette.

I love you all.

STELLA BAGWELL

Recently, Stella and her husband of thirty years moved from the hills of Oklahoma to Seadrift, Texas, a sleepy little fishing town located on the coastal bend. Stella says it is a lovely place to let her imagination soar and to put the stories in her head down on paper. She and her husband have one son, Jason, who lives and teaches high school math in nearby Port Lavaca.

Dear Reader,

This new miniseries—MEN OF THE WEST—is something I’ve wanted to write for a long time, but other stories kept popping up for my immediate attention. Now, as I approach my fiftieth book for Silhouette, I’m finally getting to write about the Ketchum family and all of their friends. What a joy! There’s nothing sexier than a man in a pair of cowboy boots and hat. And when he’s a lawman, too, well, he’s pretty nigh irresistible to me.

There is an old saying that everything changes. But thankfully, in my case, I can say that isn’t entirely true. Well, okay, I’ve aged a little. Yet as an author, the excitement and love I have for writing romance is still just as great as it was eighteen years ago when I sold my first story to Silhouette.

Being part of the Silhouette family has been a wonderful honor for me and I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all the editors I’ve worked with down through the years. You’ve made my job a pure pleasure! And last, but certainly not least, I’d like to thank you, all my loyal readers for buying my books. Without you, this job of mine wouldn’t mean anything and I sincerely hope that I’ve given you as much pleasure reading my stories as I’ve gotten from creating them. And it’s my fervent wish that you’re as eager to read my next fifty books as I am to write them!

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart!

God bless,

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 One

“Victoria, something has happened out at the T Bar K!”

The woman with dark hair sitting behind the large desk didn’t bother lifting her head from the notes she was studying. “Something is always happening at the ranch. If he’s bleeding, put him in exam room one. If he thinks something might be broken, take him on down to X-ray and I’ll be there in just a moment.”

“No, Victoria. There’s not an injured cowboy in the waiting room. It’s something else.”

Dr. Victoria Ketchum glanced up from the file on her desk to see her nurse’s face peering around the edge of the office door.

Nevada Ortiz was usually unflappable. Even when patients were bleeding all over the floor or passing out in the waiting room. But right now the young woman’s creamed-coffee complexion was downright pasty.

“What do you mean? Has some of my family called the clinic?”

Nevada quickly stepped inside the small office and approached Victoria’s desk. “No. One of the patients was listening to his scanner and overheard the sheriff’s department dispatching some men out there.”

Like Nevada, Victoria had never been one to panic. Doctors simply couldn’t allow themselves the luxury of losing their cool under fire. Now years of training and self-discipline surfaced to keep her pulse at an even pace and her thoughts focused toward a logical explanation.

“It isn’t like you to listen to patients’ gossip, Nevada.”

The young nurse gave her boss a rueful smile. “You’re right. If I stopped to listen to all the gossip that goes through this clinic I’d never get any work done. But I think this time there’s something to it. You…haven’t heard from the ranch in the past hour or so?”

Victoria shook her dark head. “No. And I’d be the first one my brother Ross would call if there’d been a severe accident or an injury. So that tells me no one has been injured.” She closed the manila folder and rose from her chair. “Is Mr. Valdez still in exam room two?”

Nevada stepped back as her boss quickly moved from behind the massive oak desk. “Yes. But, Victoria, aren’t you going to at least make a quick call to the ranch?” she asked with amazement. “If the law is headed out there…something must be happening.”

Victoria’s soft lips tilted into an indulgent smile for her nurse and friend. “They probably found the stud that’s been missing for the past couple of weeks. And if that’s the case, everyone on the ranch will have reason to celebrate tonight.” She motioned for Nevada to join her as she headed out of the room. “Quit worrying and follow me. If I’m not mistaken, I still have three more patients to see before quitting time. We have work to do.”

For the next hour, Victoria put any thoughts of the T Bar K out of her mind as she listened to aches and complaints and wrote down orders and prescriptions. Even though she was a Ketchum and still lived on the ranch, she was a doctor first and foremost and her patients’ welfare was something she always put before herself.

But later that evening, after she’d left the clinic and headed her vehicle north out of Aztec, a strange sense of dread gnawed at the pit of her stomach. In all likelihood, the law had gone to the T Bar K to talk to her brother about the missing stallion. She couldn’t imagine them going to the ranch for any other reason. Yet something like that wouldn’t be considered an emergency requiring radio dispatch, she silently reasoned.

Don’t borrow trouble, she scolded herself as she forced her fingers to relax on the steering wheel. For all she knew her nosy patient might have gotten his information mixed up. And anyway, even if men from the sheriff’s department had visited the ranch, that didn’t mean Jess had been one of them.

No, Jess Hastings, the undersheriff of San Juan County, probably had much more important things on his docket than to travel out to the home of an old flame.

Old flame. Dear Lord, how could she think of herself in those terms, she wondered. Jess has been out of her life for four years or more now. She was nothing to him. And obviously never had been.

After traveling several miles, she turned off the highway and onto a graveled road leading east into the high desert mountains.

May had brought much warmer weather to northern New Mexico. The snows in the higher elevations had started to melt, flooding the streams and rivers below. The Animas River, which cut through a section of the T Bar K, lay to the left of the winding dirt road. Now and then Victoria caught sight of the rushing rapids as her vehicle began the climb that would eventually take her to the ranch house.

When she finally entered the main gate leading up to the rambling log structure, the spring sun had already slid behind the mountains. Dusky purple shadows shrouded the house, which was perched on a ledge high enough to give a partial view of the valley floor below. Ketchum land. Farther than the eye could see.

But at the moment, Victoria wasn’t seeing anything except the two utility vehicles with official markings of the San Juan County sheriff’s department parked a few feet from the rail fence running in front of the house.

So Nevada’s warning had been right, she thought, as she deliberately drove around to the back entrance of the house. Something had happened. She could only pray it wasn’t something bad. The Ketchum family had already had their share of bad this past year. What with Tucker dying, a drought putting a heavy financial strain on the ranch and then the stud’s disappearance, she could hardly imagine getting more wretched news.

As always, the long kitchen was warm and filled with the spicy scents of waiting supper. At the huge gas range, the cook, Marina, glanced over her shoulder as Victoria’s footsteps tapped across the tiled floor.

“Better not go to living room, chica. There’s a powwow goin’ on,” the older woman warned.

Biting back a sigh, Victoria reached up and slipped the clasp from her hair to allow the thick black chocolate waves to tumble down around her shoulders. As she massaged her scalp, she reached for a glass in the cupboard.

“I saw the vehicles parked out front. What sort of powwow is going on? Has the stallion been found?”

Marina’s chuckles were mocking as she pushed a wooden spoon through a pot of bubbling cheese sauce. “Somethin’ has been found. But it no horse, chica.”

Victoria paused anxiously as she pushed the glass under the tap. “What? How long has the law been here anyway?”

Marina put down her spoon and looked at Victoria. The Mexican woman had worked for the ranch longer than Victoria could remember. She was always jolly, gentle and compassionate. And now that Tucker and Amelia were gone, she was the last of the old ones. Though she wasn’t an educated woman, and spoke only broken English, Victoria respected her wisdom just the same.

“Three hours, maybe. I was about—”

Marina’s words stopped abruptly as the sound of someone entering the kitchen caught the attention of both women.

Victoria glanced around the cook’s shoulder and immediately went stone still at the sight of Jess Hastings sauntering into the room. Even though he was dressed in blue jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt, the gun strapped to his hip and the badge on his chest told her he was on duty.

The moment he spotted her his mouth tightened, his eyes narrowed. Yet even from a distance she could see the span of four years hadn’t changed him all that much. He was still long, lean and sinfully male. And suddenly her heart was racing like a wild animal caught in a deadly trap.

Thankfully, Marina wasn’t as affected by the man. With one hand on her ample hip, she turned to face him. “You lost?”

Ignoring the cook’s sarcasm, he inclined his head toward Victoria.

“I’d like to speak with Ms. Ketchum. Alone.”

Dear Lord, how many times had she tried to forget that voice? The way it roughened with passion or softened like velvet. There was just a hint of a drawl in it now, reminding Victoria he’d been living near El Paso for the past four years.

She took a step toward him and forced herself to speak. “Marina is busy with supper. We can talk in the study.”

He nodded and she walked briskly past him, out of the kitchen and down a long, dim hallway which led to the east wing of the house.

Even without the sound of his boots making contact with the polished pine floor, Victoria would have known he was following. She could feel his presence behind her. Big, masculine, menacing.

Once inside the study, she switched on a table lamp, took a deep breath, then turned to face him.

“What’s this all about?” she asked without preamble.

His lips twisted and once again her gaze zeroed in on achingly familiar features. The square jaw, jutted chin and eyes as gray as an angry thundercloud. He was not a handsome man. He was simply all male. Rough. Tough. And oh, so irresistible. She’d never wanted any man the way she’d wanted this one. And since him, she hadn’t wanted any.

“I should have known there would be no ‘hello, Jess,’ or ‘how are you doing, Jess?’”

The directness of his stare dared her to look away from him. Victoria’s chin lifted ever so slightly at the challenge.

“I didn’t expect you to want a greeting from me,” she said.

He moved toward her and didn’t stop until there was only the width of his hand separating the two of them. “I expect common courtesy from everyone. Including you Ketchum.”

Her blood was pumping through her veins at such a high rate she actually felt light-headed. It was all she could do to stop herself from grabbing the front of his starched shirt just to keep herself from swaying.

“I didn’t hear you asking about my well-being,” she retorted.

His eyes took their slow, easy time slipping over her long dark hair, soft white skin, blue-green eyes and full red lips. She was as gorgeous as he remembered. Maybe even more so, if that was possible.

For four years he’d tried to forget the image of this woman. How she’d felt in his arms and in his bed. For a while he’d believed that given time he’d be able to exorcise her from his mind. And there were days when he did manage to shake her memory for a few hours. Then she was always back, haunting his past, spoiling his future.

“Hello, Victoria. How are you?”

The softly spoken question was not what she’d been expecting. Even as her senses scattered, she struggled not to let him see what she was thinking. Feeling. Seeing him again shouldn’t be doing this to her. But damn it, Jess Hastings was the one and only thing that could unsettle her.

“If you really want to know, I was fine until I heard that lawmen had invaded the T Bar K.”

One corner of his mouth tilted upward into a semblance of a smile. “I wouldn’t call it an invasion. There’s only two of us here. Myself and Deputy Redwing.”

She desperately needed to turn and walk away. To put a few feet between them so that she could breathe without drawing in his seductive scent, so that she could look at anything other than his chiseled lips and damning eyes. But where she was concerned, Jess had always been a magnet. She couldn’t move away. Not just yet.

“So you’re the undersheriff now,” she said softly. “What happened to your job with the border patrol?”

The grooves bracketing his lips deepened with a tight grimace. “I resigned. For personal reasons.”

Even though Victoria was in an occupation that exposed her to many people and even more gossip, she’d never heard anyone say why Jess Hastings had returned to San Juan County four months ago. And she’d not been brave enough to ask. But now the question was on the tip of her tongue, making her bite down to keep the words from passing her lips.

“How’s your medical practice?” he asked.

“Very busy.”

Her short answer told him she didn’t want to discuss her life with him. Which didn’t surprise Jess. She’d stopped wanting to share anything with him a long time ago.

“I guess you’re wanting to know what I’m doing here?”

She nodded once. “It would help.”

To her surprise, he took hold of her upper arm and led her to a nearby leather couch. Before she sank onto one of the cushions she was struck with the fact of how mushy her knees had grown and how her arm burned where he touched her.

Easing down beside her, Jess pulled off his Stetson and combed his fingers through his short, sandy hair.

“I suppose you know the ranch hands have been out searching for Ross’s stallion,” he began.

“Yes. But Marina informed me that he hasn’t been found.”

Jess stroked his fingers along one side of his jaw as he studied her waiting eyes.

“No. The men found something else,” he said grimly. “A body.”

She wanted to gasp, but the air was suddenly trapped in her lungs. She shook her head, then shook it again. “Did you say a body?”

He continued to search her face. “That’s right. Partially decomposed. But enough to tell us it was human and we think male.”

“Oh dear Lord,” she whispered. “Who—”

“I’ve been questioning your family and some of the hands on the ranch,” he answered her unfinished question. “No one seems to have any idea of who this person might have been or why he was on the T Bar K. I was hoping you might be able to tell me something.”

Incredulous, her gaze latched on to his. “Me? How could I know anything?”

One sandy brow lifted sardonically. “You live here, too.”

“Yes, but I don’t know—” She stopped, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “This body—are you—do you think there was foul play involved or someone just came along and died of natural causes or an accident?”

His thumb and forefinger slid along the brim of his hat, flattening any bumps or dips from the expensive felt. She tried not to notice his big hands or remember the pleasure they used to give her.

“You’re a doctor. You know it takes time to determine those sorts of things.”

She drew in a needy breath, then slowly released it. “Yes. But—there might have been clues—”

His smile was slow and a bit too indulgent for Victoria’s liking. But then, she didn’t want Jess Hastings to smile at her in any way or for any reason. He was a silver-tongued wolf who’d gobbled up her heart, then spit out the pieces.

“Those are to be shared with the sheriff’s department,” he said shortly. “Not the Ketchum family.”

She wanted to stand and walk away from him, but she was afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her, so she stayed where she was and tried to hold her temper in check. Crossing words with Jess would get her nowhere.

“Well, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can tell you.”

“You might be surprised about that,” he said quietly.

She tried not to shiver as a strange chill traveled down her spine. “You can’t think I would know anything about this person.”

His expression didn’t change. “Oh, I don’t know. I have a habit of thinking things I shouldn’t. Has anyone made you angry in the past few months? So angry that you wanted to kill him?”

She stared at him in stunned fascination. “You’re kidding.”

His gray eyes didn’t blink. “Finding a body is nothing to kid about.”

And she could see that he was serious. Fear, then anger poured though her body, making her go cold, then hot. “You just told me you didn’t know if foul play was involved or not. So why do you want to know if anyone has angered me to the extent of committing murder?”

He smiled, but there was no humor behind the curve of his lips. “You always were a little too sharp for me. Weren’t you, Tori?”

“Don’t call me that!” she whispered icily. He was the only person who’d ever called her by that nickname and as far as she was concerned he’d lost his right to be that intimate with her. “And as for your question, no one has angered me in the past months. But a few years ago—I could have killed you. Given the chance,” she added.

Jess was a man known for keeping his head. It was one of the reasons he’d excelled at his job. A man with a cool head didn’t miss anything going on around him. He could reason, stay aware and stay alive. But there had always been something about Victoria that heated his blood. And it wasn’t just the lush, feminine shape of her. One glance, one word from her had the power to ignite an explosion in him. And she’d just set him off.

He said, “I guess Ketchum blood must be stronger than that Hippocratic oath you took.”

She was shocked to see her fingers had clenched, forming fists at her sides. She forced her hands to relax and her lungs to breathe. “What is that supposed to mean?”

His gray eyes slipped downward to where her breasts pushed against pale blue cashmere. The fabric was as soft as her skin and a knot twisted in his gut at the memory of her full breasts cupped in his hands, the rosy brown nipples begging to be kissed.

He looked at the floor, then back up to her face. “The oath is to save lives, not take them. But—where I’m concerned you only see me through Ketchum eyes.”

“My family never disliked you.”

He let out a harsh laugh, then rose to his feet and crossed the room to where a low fire crackled and spit in a native rock fireplace. “Tucker couldn’t stand the thought of you being anywhere near me.”

She wanted to point out that his comments had nothing to do with his visit to the T Bar K this evening, but she didn’t. For the past four months, since she’d heard Jess had come back to San Juan county, she’d known a time would come when she would have to face him again, to discover for herself if he held any bitterness about the past. She didn’t have to wonder anymore.

“My father didn’t try to prevent me from seeing you.”

His head turned away from the fire to stab her with a hot glare. “Not in words. No, the old man was too sly for that. He knew just how to get to you. And he did.”

Her jaw clenched. “I thought four years would have made you see how wrong you were. But it’s obvious you’re still just as blind and bullheaded as you ever were!”

“You’re the blind one, Victoria. You were then. And you are now.”

If he’d spoken the words in anger she would have understood them. But there had been no animosity in his voice. Just a quiet sort of warning.

Before she realized what she was doing, she left the couch and went to stand in front of him. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

He took a deep breath, then reached for a small framed photo on the fireplace mantel. It was a snapshot of Tucker and Amelia in their younger days, back when their four children had been small and the oldest, Hugh, had still been alive.