Mason's Marriage. Tina Leonard
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father. Brian, of course. Widow Fancy knew because he’d made her look up the birth certificate Mimi had filed in the county records. There, plain as could be, was Mason Jefferson typed on the line for Father. No doubt the sheriff knew, as well.
Embarrassment burned inside him.
“Bro.”
“Shh.” Mason turned to look at Last, who had poked his head around the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Valentine and I left a cake on the table for Helga. Tomorrow is her birthday. We want you to hide—What’s wrong?”
Mason shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Something’s wrong. You look like you’ve got a stomachache.”
“No.”
Last frowned at him. “Okay. I still say you look like you ate something that didn’t agree, and you’re always pretty sour looking, Mason, so if I think—”
“Last, get the hell out,” Mason said, his voice low.
Last disappeared from the doorway. Nanette turned over in her sleep, her eyes closed tightly like a china doll’s. Surely she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on, Mason decided. She’d always been a lovely little sprite moving through his life; he’d always loved her. But now that she was all his, love for her nestled even deeper inside his heart.
He was very angry with Mimi for stealing his time with Nanette from him, but she’d given him a wonderful miracle, too, he slowly admitted. Who could have imagined that something as sweet as a child could come from such a moment of fiery lovemaking?
After that night with Mimi, he’d felt guilt. He’d felt remorse, and he’d felt crazed in the head. But he’d never regretted it. It would be a lie to say he had. Even when she’d walked down the aisle with Brian, Mason had been glad he’d loved her. All practicality told him that she was better off with Brian, and he’d let her go. It had never been his intention to steal her away from her intended.
Only he supposed he had. Mimi couldn’t have conceived a child with Brian while she was pregnant with Mason’s child, and he supposed Brian hadn’t wanted to raise another man’s baby. It would have been too much for a new marriage to handle. He felt momentary guilt that perhaps she’d never had a chance to make her marriage work because of him.
The fact was, he couldn’t keep his thoughts away from her, and that night he couldn’t keep his hands off her. She’d been upset over her father’s condition, and he’d comforted her. Without planning it, he had allowed that comfort to spiral into acting on his feelings and he had made love to her with every fiber of his being.
No, he didn’t regret that. And her marriage…well, that was one more seed of guilt he’d end up reaping one day.
He sat up, astonishment hitting him. “Nanette Jefferson,” he said out loud. Not Cannady. Jefferson!
“Mason,” Last said, peering around the door more cautiously this time, “I hate like hell to bother you, but—”
“That’s my child,” Mason said, pointing to Nanette gleefully.
“Yes, yes, she’s our child, all of us adore her. But, Mason—”
Mason got up, barely able to keep the grin off his face. “That’s my daughter. Not Brian’s. Mine.”
Last stared at him. “Are you insane? Mason, I really think you need to come downstairs and let Calhoun and Fannin and me spell you for a bit. You’ve been working too hard.”
“Nanette Jefferson,” Mason said, stubborn in his joy.
“Are you…getting married?” Last asked.
“Hell, no,” Mason said. “I’m getting proper papers filed, is what I’m going to do.”
“Proper papers?” Last frowned. “To do what?”
“To declare Nanette as mine. To change her name. All that stuff that fathers do when they become fathers.”
“Did you fall down the stairs and hit your head?”
“No,” Mason said, “and when you figure it out, you’ll realize you’re Uncle Last.”
Last blinked. “You’re going to scare Mimi with all this crazy talk.”
“Mimi scared me,” Mason said. “She told me yesterday that Nanette is my child.”
Last’s jaw dropped. “So that’s what Bandera was hinting about!”
“Bandera?” Mason stared at his youngest brother. “Does he know? Has he known all this time? And kept it from me?”
“Uh, I don’t think so,” Last said, clearly backtracking or confused. “Now that I think of it, he said that he wished Nanette was your child so he could be Uncle Bandera.”
“I’m going to put my boot—”
“I know, I know.” Last held up his hand. “What difference does it make if Bandera knew, Mason? If Mimi had taken him into her confidence, he wouldn’t tell you. None of us would go back on a confidence.”
“She’s my daughter!” Mason exclaimed. “I had a right to know!”
Last pulled him into the hall, closing the door. “Would you stop shouting into her subconscious?”
Mason blinked. “What?”
Last looked at him impatiently. “Nanette is hearing every word you say!”
“She’s asleep.”
“And hearing you bellyache. Now look, you can’t be sore at all of us because once again you’re all twisted up at Mimi. Mimi’s had enough to deal with, and if she didn’t figure you’d be much of a support system, then she didn’t lean on you. She probably didn’t tell you after she found out she was pregnant because she was married. For heaven’s sake, Mason, you can understand that. After all, it’s not exactly like Valentine was thrown a welcome reception by any of us when she told us she was pregnant with my daughter.”
“Yeah, but you were having a weird phase.”
“And you’ve been having a weird phase for years. I’m sure Mimi was scared out of her wits that you’d react somewhat the way you’re reacting now.”
“Mimi kept her from me,” Mason said, angry.
“It’s okay, Mason. It’s not like Mimi had her in a different city and you never got to see her.”
Mason glared at him. “She should have been on the ranch, where she belonged.”
“And she was, most of the time. Mason, you should be happy you’ve got flesh and blood of your own without a wedding ring. You never wanted to get married, anyway.” Last looked at him curiously. “So quit yer bitchin’.”
Mason felt his chest heave. Last didn’t understand. Mason didn’t understand, himself. Too many new and different emotions were roiling his good sense.
“Jeez, Mason, I didn’t spend any time with my daughter when she was young because I was being a jerk. You at least got to spend all the time you wanted with Nanette, and still can. Don’t waste time being a dunce. That’s all I have to say.”
“It’s not that easy.”
The front door slammed. Both men peered over the stairwell in time to see a tiny blond whirlwind rush up the stairs. “I’m coming to kiss my daughter good-night, Mason,” she said, brushing past the both of them, “so shut the hell up before you even say a thing.”
“Whoa,” Last said, “female troubles?”
“I don’t know,” Mason said, frowning. “I’d be the last person she’d share that with.”
“Not her, Mason. You. Are you having female