Cowboy's Secret Child. Sara Orwig
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slid back to Kevin. “How old are you, Kevin?” he asked quietly, knowing the answer.
Kevin held up three fingers.
“Three years old. That’s getting very big. Do you go to pre-school?”
Kevin shook his head.
“Not yet. He’s enrolled for next fall,” Amanda said, touching Kevin. She constantly reached out to pat his shoulder or brush his hair from his forehead, and Jeb wondered whether she was affectionate all the time or whether she was giving Kevin attention out of worry now. Jeb leaned back in his chair. He had little appetite, and she didn’t seem to have any, either. Yet he was happy to be with Kevin, even though the child seemed inordinately shy.
“Is macaroni your favorite food, Kevin?”
Kevin shook his head while Amanda answered, “His favorite is chocolate ice cream. Maybe chocolate cake is a second favorite and then chicken drumsticks.” Her answer was perfunctory, her thoughts still churning.
Glancing over the food on the table, Amanda could hardly eat. What kind of battle lay ahead of her? Was Kevin going to be one of those children she had seen on the television news and in the paper—a child who had two people battling over him while he was always pictured as crying and unhappy?
She was sick at the thought. Every time she looked into Jeb Stuart’s brown eyes, she could see his determination, and every time he looked at Kevin, she could see his longing. He wanted his son.
That knowledge tore at her because at the time of Kevin’s birth, when Cherie wanted Amanda to take the baby, Cherie had sworn Jeb hadn’t wanted his child. Had he had a change of heart or was he telling her the truth—that he really hadn’t known? Amanda suspected that he was telling the truth. He looked earnest enough.
She couldn’t imagine having one of those horrible battles that hurt Kevin badly. She felt as if Jeb Stuart wanted to cut her heart out and take it with him. She realized he was staring at her, and she guessed he must have asked her a question.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I see a child’s swing in your backyard. Will there be time before Kevin goes to bed to go outside with him and play?”
“Sure,” she answered easily. “We’re finished. As soon as I clean the kitchen, we’ll go outside. Want to?” she asked Kevin, and he nodded. He started to stand.
“Wait. What do you say?”
“May I be ’scused?”
“Yes, you may,” she answered, and Kevin slid off his chair and ran to get his toys.
When she stood, Jeb Stuart rose also and picked up dishes. “I can clean up,” she said.
“This is no trouble,” he answered politely, and she thought how civil they were being to each other, yet what a sham it was. She knew he was doing it for Kevin’s sake, just as she was.
In her small kitchen she could not avoid bumping against Jeb. Each time she was intensely conscious of the physical contact. Every nerve tingled. Jeb Stuart looked full of raw energy, and she wondered if he would make her as nervous if Kevin weren’t the connection between them.
Making a rumbling noise like an imaginary motor, Kevin sat on the floor, playing with one of his toy cars. He was so little, too vulnerable. While she watched him, her eyes blurred. She couldn’t give up her child! As pain came in waves, she fought a rising panic. Trying to gain control of her emotions, she didn’t want to cry in front of Jeb Stuart. I’m Kevin’s legal mother. But she had seen the pain in Jeb’s eyes and she knew he was entitled to his son. She was losing Kevin! She felt queasy, as though she were going to lose the little she had eaten for dinner. She turned on the cold water and ran some over her hand, then patted the back of her neck and her forehead.
“Are you all right?”
His voice was quiet and deep and he was right beside her. She looked up into his inscrutable dark eyes and wondered if they were both headed for dreadful heartache. She feared that no one was going to win in this situation, least of all Kevin.
“I’m all right,” she said stiffly, turning to blindly rinse a plate and place it in the dishwasher. A hand closed gently on her wrist. Feeling his touch to her toes, she looked up at him.
“Go outside with Kevin. I’ll finish this and join you.”
She didn’t argue. After drying her hands, she took Kevin’s hand and headed outside, thankful to escape her kitchen, which now seemed smaller than ever and filled with the electrifying presence of the most disturbing male she had ever encountered. She still tingled from that casual touch of his hand on her arm. At the kitchen door, she glanced back over her shoulder.
Jeb stood watching her, and the moment their gazes met, another lightning bolt of awareness streaked through her. His midnight eyes were riveting and sexy. She felt a raw edginess around him that she suspected she would have experienced even if Kevin had not been a factor in their relationship. As they gazed at each other, the moment stretched between them, tense, breathtaking, until she turned abruptly. Hurrying outside, she tried to catch her breath and ignore her racing heart.
When Jeb joined them, she was swinging Kevin, and the child was smiling. Jeb stood watching and she was grateful for his patience and caution around Kevin. She knew Kevin was shy, and he became even more withdrawn if someone forced attention on him.
Time seemed to stretch into aeons until they went inside. She bathed Kevin and tucked him into bed. When she kissed him good-night, she held him close. He hugged her and then lay on his pillow. “Mama, who is Mr. Stuart?”
“He’s a friend, Kevin,” she answered slowly, wondering how to tell Kevin the truth. He’s your father and he’s come to take you from me ran through her mind while she looked into a pair of dark eyes so much like those of Jeb Stuart.
“I like it better when you don’t have a friend here.”
“You like it when Megan or Peg come over.”
He thought this over and nodded. “I like Megan better than Mr. Stuart.”
Amanda merely nodded and hugged Kevin again and fought tears because she didn’t want to cry in front of him. As though he sensed something amiss, he clung to her. She kissed him again and tucked him in.
“One more story, please.”
She relented and told him another story until his eyes closed and his breathing became deep. Reluctantly, she squared her shoulders, then tiptoed out of Kevin’s room and closed the door behind her.
In the small family room, Jeb Stuart stood with his back to her, staring out a darkened window at the night. She knew he was lost in his thoughts because there was nothing to see outside.
“He’s asleep.”
Jeb turned around and studied her, flicking a swift glance over her that she felt as much as if he had brushed her body with his fingertips.
“Is he always so shy?”
She shrugged and crossed the room to sit down on the sofa, folding her legs beneath her. “He’s shy, but he’s even more shy with you because he’s seldom been around men. He sees me and his nanny, his Sunday school teachers, my friends and, on rare occasions, my aunt, and they’re all women.”
She received another assessing gaze. “You’re pretty,” Jeb said.
“Thank you,” she answered perfunctorily, because she suspected he was going somewhere with his remark, and her wariness increased. Even as her defenses rose, on another level, she was pleased by his assessment.
“You’re too attractive to be single unless there’s a good reason. I know this is a blunt question, but you and I are going to have to do some serious talking. Why haven’t you married and had your own children?”
She raised her chin. It had been a long time now since she had thought about marriage, and having