The Doctor's Texas Baby

The only thing that had changed from the last time she had seen him, from the man she had left three years ago, were the lines of strain on his face and the pure icy coldness of his gaze. Her heart clenched as she remembered how his eyes used to warm when he looked at her, when his whole countenance lit up whenever she was around.

But not now.

He pulled his hat down to shadow his thoughts, but he couldn’t hide the frown that curved his lips into a downward arch.

What was Wyatt doing here?

Not just here at the boys ranch. That much was fairly evident.

But why was he still in Haven?

Carolina quivered from the adrenaline still coursing through her. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she might run into him. She had been so certain he would be long gone from town by now, or else she would never have even considered returning—letter or no letter.

That was the whole point, wasn’t it? Why she’d left in the first place? To give Wyatt his freedom?

Wyatt stood to his full height, and Carolina’s breath snagged in her throat. She’d hoped that if she ever saw him again she would feel nothing, that she would have moved beyond the long nights and emotions born of grief and loneliness.

Instead, nothing had changed, except perhaps that her feelings had grown stronger over time. It was as if every nerve in her body was attuned to his.

The brown-speckled goat Wyatt had been working on bleated and bolted away, but he didn’t appear to notice. His posture was stiff and intimidating as he stared back at her, tight jawed and frowning.

“Carolina.” His usually rich baritone emerged low and gritty.

“Mama?” Matty squeezed her hand.

She’d been so shocked by Wyatt’s sudden appearance that she’d momentarily forgotten Matty was at her side.

Wyatt’s gaze shifted to Matty and then back up to her again, his eyes widening in surprise.

Now the electricity intensified, zapping back and forth like lightning between them. Her pulse ratcheted. Her heart hammered. Her worst fear, realized.

Matty.

Oh, precious Lord, please help me.

Even as she prayed for relief, she knew there was no way out of this. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t intended to reveal this secret. Not to anyone, but most especially not to Wyatt.

Ever.

The whole reason she’d left Haven was to allow Wyatt to pursue the life he’d dreamed of. Ever since she’d known him, he’d spoken about his desire to help the poor and destitute in foreign countries learn how to raise animals. He wanted to provide them with a trade through which they could work themselves out of a poverty-stricken existence.

It was a noble goal, the dream of his heart, and if she had stayed, she would have ruined it for him. His parents had been foreign diplomats who’d died in an explosion, and Wyatt had never quite gotten over the loss, even if it made him more determined than ever to help those less fortunate than him. She’d known him well enough to know there was no way he would ever consider bringing a wife and child with him to a third-world country where they might be in danger.

Carolina had known and understood this, and she’d loved him enough to let him go. That was why she’d left Haven so suddenly when she’d discovered she was pregnant with Matty. Everything she’d been through since then—every struggle, every trial she’d endured, every night spent crying in her pillow, had been for Wyatt’s sake.

Because if he’d known she was pregnant, he would have had no choice but to stay with her in Haven. He wasn’t the kind of man who would walk away from his responsibilities. He would have given up all of his personal hopes and dreams for the sake of his son. She had no doubt whatsoever that he was the guy who would do the right thing by her and by Matty. He would have asked her to marry him.

But she’d been in love with him, and the right thing wasn’t good enough for her—or for Matty. Their lives couldn’t be built on one night’s mistake.

If she’d believed Wyatt was in love with her, that would have been one thing. But before the night Matty was conceived they’d only been casually dating, and the night they’d shared had been born of sorrow, not joy. A marriage and family based only on a man’s sense of decency and not true love? Her heart couldn’t take it.

So she’d left.

And now she was back, only to discover Wyatt had never left at all. Why wasn’t he in Uganda or deep in the Amazon jungle somewhere?

Had her sacrifice been for nothing?

“Mama?” Matty said again, yanking her arm more intently this time. “Mama. Mama.”

She scooped him into her arms and gently patted his back, reassuring herself as much as him. Her fight-or-flight instinct was working overtime, and it was all she could do to stand firm and not flee.

But what good would it do her to turn away now? Wyatt had already caught sight of Matty. He was watching the toddler through narrowed eyes and pressed lips as the boy tangled his fingers into Carolina’s hair.

“You’re a mama?” Wyatt asked, and for one confused moment, no longer than a blink of an eye, Carolina thought...hoped...prayed that he wouldn’t comprehend what that meant. That he wouldn’t realize the truth about those identical chocolate-brown eyes that were literally staring right back at him, among the many features that mirrored his own.

“I—how could you?” he stammered, picking off his hat and threading his fingers through his hair.

Carolina cringed, waiting for him to come loose at the seams. How could he not? She wouldn’t blame him. He had every right to be furious.

She held her breath, waiting for the explosion she knew was coming.

But when he spoke, it was deep, and hushed, and as hard and cold as steel.

“Tell me the truth, Carolina, for once in your life. This boy—is he my son?”

* * *

Wyatt’s breath felt like icicles in his lungs, poking and puncturing his chest with each ragged gasp.

That boy, the animated, dark-haired, dark-eyed child clinging to Carolina’s neck, was his son.

For the very first few seconds after he’d realized Carolina wasn’t alone, that she had her toddler with her, there had been a flash of confusion—of anger, of envy—that she had been able to move on with her life so quickly after abandoning him. It had taken him months to recover enough to go on with his daily life without thinking of her with every heartbeat, and there were still days—and nights—he found difficulty putting the past behind him.

And she already had a husband and a toddler? She must have met the guy right after—

His gaze had dropped to her left hand, but her ring finger was bare. So she wasn’t married, then.

Yet there was a child.

And then, in an instant, it all came together.

The moment he looked into the child’s eyes, Wyatt knew, with the same certainty that he recognized the wild, unsteady rhythm of his heart beating in his chest, that the little boy was his son.

His child.

He didn’t have to count back the months or measure the years. Anyone with eyes could see the resemblance.

The boy could have stepped right out of a photograph of Wyatt at that age, from the stubborn cowlick in his black hair right down to the curve of his dimples when he smiled. Wyatt now covered his dimples with a few days’ growth of beard, but they were there. Just like this boy’s.

“What’s his name?” he ground out, barely able to find his voice.

“Matty,” Carolina answered shakily.

Matty was his son.

His thoughts were coming quick and choppy, echoing over and over in his mind, each time stronger and with increasing clarity.

Matty was his own flesh and blood, created out of his love for Carolina. They’d done everything backward, to be sure, but even before Matty had been conceived, Wyatt had had every intention of asking Carolina to marry him, had been ready to make a lifetime commitment to her.

Obviously Carolina hadn’t felt the same way about him, or else she never would have left him.

Left. Knowing she was keeping him from his son.

Where was the love in that?

The little boy staring back at him with wide, curious brown eyes should have had the benefit of his father’s love and attention from the very day he was born.

Already those emotions were welling in Wyatt’s heart. One second ago he’d been a single man. Now he was a daddy.

The whole scenario was wrong on so many levels. He should have been there when Matty was born. When he took his first steps. Said his first word. Wyatt would have showered Matty with love and attention. He and Matty had both been cheated out of time together.

Years.

For a reason Wyatt couldn’t begin to comprehend, Carolina had willingly chosen to live as a single mother, without so much as asking him for financial support, much less anything emotional.

His gut fisted as another thought occurred to him.

Was there another man in the picture now? The fact that Carolina wasn’t wearing a wedding band didn’t necessarily mean anything. The woman he’d thought he’d known would never live with another man without being married to him, but what did he really know about her?

She had proven him wrong in every way that mattered.

Had Wyatt been replaced before he’d ever even had the opportunity to be a dad to his son? The idea of someone else taking on his role of father to Matty made him sick.

It was too much information to process, too many emotions to contain all at once.

Bewilderment, uncertainty, grief, pain, fury—yet at the same time an affection and warmth unlike any he’d ever known. He had no idea where the tender feelings for Matty came from. They were just there.

He switched his gaze to Carolina. She looked stricken, as well she might.

How dare she keep all knowledge of his son from him for all this time?

And why had she come back now?

He guessed the boy had to be around two years of age. Had Carolina suddenly grown a conscience and decided Wyatt needed to know about the boy? It didn’t seem likely, especially since Carolina appeared completely shocked to have encountered him the way she had. She certainly hadn’t been seeking him out.

There were so many questions he wanted answered, so much confusion rolling through his mind and heart that he couldn’t seem to form the words to voice a single one of them. He wanted to grill and interrogate Carolina on every aspect of Matty’s life, but he didn’t know where to begin.

And really, what did it matter anyway?

The fact was, three years ago Carolina had left him high and dry with no notice and no explanation, and now, years later, she had suddenly returned with their son in her arms.

He couldn’t imagine any conceivable excuse or reasonable explanation that he would actually accept as a legitimate reason why she hadn’t bothered to tell him about his child. There was simply nothing she could say to talk her way out of the conversation they were about to have.

“W-Wyatt?” Seventeen-year-old Johnny Drake touched his shoulder and tentatively broke into his thoughts. The teenager, whom Wyatt was personally mentoring, was reed thin, with floppy, curly brown hair and clothes that always looked like they were a size too large for him. “D-did you want me to c-catch the g-g-goat for you?”

In the shock of finding out he had a son, Wyatt had completely forgotten he was in the middle of teaching a class to a rowdy group of boys who were all gazing at him with wide-eyed curiosity and far more attention than they’d been giving him when he’d been explaining how to inoculate a goat.

“Yeah, W-W-Wyatt,” said Christopher Harrington, a resentful young man who thought he was better than the others because he came from a wealthy home. Christopher hadn’t yet learned the hard truth that the boys were all on equal footing here at the ranch. “What about the g-g-g-g-g-goats?”

Wyatt frowned at Christopher’s exaggerated stutter as he made fun of Johnny. Poor Johnny’s shoulders drooped and his bitter gaze sizzled the ground at his feet.

“Knock it off, Christopher. You boys are done for the day. Go somewhere else and find something useful to do.”

The young men didn’t have to be told twice before they scattered. They weren’t used to receiving a sudden chunk of free time.

Only Johnny hung back and didn’t follow the other boys. His stutter made him the object of ridicule, but Johnny found solace reading books and working with the ranch animals, who accepted him just the way he was.

Wyatt understood that, which was one of the main reasons he had taken Johnny under his wing, mentoring the boy with an eye to getting him into college and eventually, if Johnny excelled in his studies, veterinary school.

As much as the teenagers mercilessly teased Johnny, that was nothing close to what would happen if they got a whiff of what was happening between Wyatt and Carolina now. There was no telling what kind of havoc the boys would wreak with that kind of information.

It was time to be proactive, to deal with this situation with Carolina and Matty before anyone else found out about what had happened between them. They needed to get their stories straight and nip any rumors in the bud.

Or did everyone already know?

Was it possible that he was the only man in Haven who wasn’t aware he had a son?

Fury and humiliation lapped like flames in his chest and he struggled to maintain his composure. He gritted his teeth and crossed his arms, digging his fingernails into his biceps and fighting for control of his temper.

“I know you must be angry with me.” Carolina paused, her eyes uncertain. “Aren’t you?”

He raised his eyebrows.

Angry?

That was the understatement of the century. He was mad enough to want to put his fist through a brick wall, just to try to transfer some of the pain in his chest to his hand. He felt like he was about to explode.

“How long were you planning on keeping this secret from me?” he snapped, jamming his hands into the pockets of his fleece-lined jeans jacket to keep from punching the air in frustration. “I can’t believe you kept my own son from me, Carolina. How could you?”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

The fire in his chest burned even hotter. How could she even consider suggesting that her motives were altruistic? Did she really think that leaving him without sharing the knowledge that she was carrying his baby wouldn’t wound him?

He scoffed. “Of course not. You somehow thought I’d be better off not knowing that I have a son.”

“W-W-Wyatt?”

Wyatt turned. He’d somehow forgotten—again—that Johnny was still at his side.

The boy pushed his hair off his forehead. Wyatt could see how agitated Johnny was, clenching and unclenching his fists in a silent, steady rhythm. The poor kid looked like he was about to jump out of his skin.

It struck Wyatt suddenly that he was the cause. Johnny was ultrasensitive and was picking up on the tension between him and Carolina. Wyatt took a deep breath and let it out slowly. No sense upsetting the young man. There was enough anger and grief in this scenario without involving the boy.

He clapped a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s all good. Carolina and I just have a few...issues to work out between us.”

He pointed to the herd of goats, who were now grazing their way through another field. “Do you think you could finish vaccinating the goats?”

Wyatt nodded toward the clipboard, which contained the list of the names of all the goats. He’d dropped the clipboard in the grass earlier, when he’d had his hands full teaching the group of boys how to give a goat a subcutaneous vaccine.

“I think there are four or five of them we haven’t vaccinated yet. Do you remember how to do it?”

“Y-y-yes, sir,” replied Johnny, looking relieved to have a reason to avoid being around the strained reunion between Wyatt and Carolina.

Wyatt returned his attention to Carolina and Matty, who was now wiggling and squirming in his mother’s arms, pumping his chunky arms and legs in an awkward rhythm. He clearly wanted to get down, but Carolina refused, clutching the child like a lifeline.

Wyatt clenched his fists. Had his heated response affected Matty as it had Johnny?

With every ounce of his self-control, Wyatt pressed his anger—along with all of his other barely containable and ignitable emotions—to the back of his mind and heart and firmly boarded them in.

He had to get past the fact that Carolina had abruptly sprung fatherhood on him. All that mattered was taking care of Matty. His needs would always come first, no matter what.

Wyatt was going to be there for his son, and that started right now.

“Can I—” he fumbled, but his voice was husky. He cleared his throat. “May I hold him?”

“Of course.” Carolina sounded surprised that he would ask—as if she hadn’t expected him to step up to the plate.

What was she thinking? That he would deny the truth that was right in front of his eyes? Or maybe it was the opposite—that she feared he was going to step in and take over.

Now that was a thought.

He held out his arms to Matty, feeling suddenly large and ungainly. Abruptly shy, Matty tucked his head into his mother’s shoulder and curled closer to her.

Wyatt’s heart plummeted and he dropped his hands to his sides, wiping his sweaty palms against the denim of his blue jeans.

Strike one.

“Wyatt, wait.” Carolina held up her hand to him, gesturing for him to come closer. Then to Matty, she said, “Son, this is—” She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening in dismay as it met Wyatt’s. “Um—this is Mr. Wyatt. He’s a very nice man. Don’t you want to say hello to him?”

Mr. Wyatt. Not Father. Not Daddy.

Talk about disheartening. But then, what did he expect from his first encounter with his son? That the years apart didn’t matter? That Matty didn’t know him from a stranger?

He was a stranger to his son.

He stuffed the anger down as quickly as it rose, afraid Matty would be able to sense it.

At least this time, when Wyatt reached for him, Matty stretched out his little arms and wrapped them tightly around Wyatt’s neck.

Wyatt struggled to swallow, and not because Matty was cutting off his air. It just felt so new. So strange.

And yet somehow, so right.

Matty still sported the chunky arms and legs and chubby cheeks of toddlerhood, so Wyatt was surprised by how light the boy was. Wasn’t he getting enough to eat?

“Where are you staying?” he asked as he mentally adjusted to the feel of Matty in his arms. He wasn’t accustomed to holding children of any age. He was much more comfortable around the animals he vetted. He was only just getting used to teaching the kids at the boys ranch, and there wasn’t much physical contact between them, other than the occasional encouraging pat on the back.

And all of the sudden he had a two-year-old son?

“We’re lodging at my great-uncle’s cabin for now,” Carolina answered. An emotion Wyatt couldn’t interpret flashed across her face.

For now.

What did that mean? That she wasn’t planning to stick around?

Surely not. She couldn’t be so coldhearted as to just waltz into town, inform Wyatt that he had a son and then disappear again.

Could she?

He didn’t have the opportunity to clarify, because at that moment Bea Brewster approached, saying she’d managed to round up Gabe Everett, who was the president of the local chapter of the Lone Star Cowboy League, and attorney Harold Haverman, who was representing the Culpepper estate. They were awaiting Carolina’s presence in Bea’s office.

Carolina reached for Matty, and Wyatt reluctantly handed him back to her. Right when he was starting to adjust to the feel of Matty’s chubby little body in his arms, the boy had been taken from him. Wyatt desperately craved more time. Much more.

He started to follow Carolina to Bea’s office but then paused. If Gabe and a lawyer were involved in the meeting, it wasn’t exactly his business to invite himself. Though he didn’t know any of the details, he assumed the gathering had something to do with the terms of Cyrus Culpepper’s will and the town’s ability to retain the new boys ranch facility.

Before Carolina went anywhere, though, Wyatt intended to tell her where he stood in regard to fatherhood—in regard to Matty. He wanted to make sure his feelings on the matter were perfectly clear.

He just needed the opportunity, which would be difficult when Carolina was deep in conversation with Bea.

“You are welcome to join us, Wyatt,” Bea offered, casting a grin at him.

Wyatt agreed right away, partially because he volunteered at the boys ranch and thus had some vested interest in the legal matters that would be presented, but mostly because he was determined to find the opportunity to speak to Carolina once the meeting was adjourned.

As they walked back toward Bea’s office, Wyatt gave Bea an apologetic smile and snagged Carolina’s elbow, urging her aside for a moment. He bent his head to whisper close to her ear so the others wouldn’t hear.

Her eyes met his, large and unblinking. He’d forgotten the way those pretty golden-brown eyes, rimmed with thick, dark lashes, used to do a number on him.

Well, not this time. He ignored the tightening of his throat and the way his gut flipped over.

“We’re not finished here,” he warned.

“No. I didn’t think we were.” Her gaze broke away from his and she sighed deeply.

“Just so I know we’re on the same page.” His voice was low and huskier than usual.

The same page?

They weren’t even in the same bookstore. The three previous years spanned behind them like a dilapidated rope bridge, and an enormous, gaping breach lay before them. From his vantage point, it seemed like an impossible chasm to cross.

But he had to try.

For his son.

For Matty.

* * *

Carolina felt very much like she’d just escaped a firing squad, if only temporarily.

How had she not planned for this contingency? Why had it not occurred to her that, free from the burden she and Matty would have been for him, Wyatt would not have taken the very first plane out of the country?

But she hadn’t, and Wyatt was here in Haven, and she didn’t know what she was going to do about it.

She didn’t even know what her options were.

Maybe she should just take care of this legal matter and leave Haven behind her, this time for good.

Except, she reminded herself, she had nowhere else to go. No family. No friends outside Haven other than her ex-roommate and work acquaintances. Nothing.

She’d been living in Colorado since she’d left Haven, working as a nurse at a senior center and hospice. She was surviving, if not thriving, as a single mother. She’d found the Lord, and God was faithfully seeing her through, one deliberate step at a time.

But then, in a matter of weeks, her life had completely upended and fallen apart. She’d taken a bad turn on a ski slope and trashed her knee, which had required major surgery and months of physical therapy. And then her great-uncle Mort had passed away.

Between her hospital stay and recovery, combined with her doctor permanently banning her from lifting more than fifty pounds, her entire life had quickly fallen apart at the seams. Lifting fifty pounds—sometimes much more when patients slipped and fell—was required for a first responder in a nursing home, and the senior center had simply let her go, which was a nice, polite way of saying she was fired.

And then, to top it all off, her roommate, who had been Matty’s primary caretaker while Carolina was in the hospital, had eloped with her boyfriend, leaving Carolina on her own without the means to cover her month-to-month rent on her apartment and nobody available to watch her son while she looked for work.

It was a catch-22 to put all others to shame.

It had frightened her beyond measure that there was a very real possibility that she and Matty might end up living in a homeless shelter. She might have grown up in the country with a single mother, where there was sometimes little left over, but there had always been a roof over her head and enough food to go around.