Wed By Fortune. Judy Duarte

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      Graham followed her outside, watching her walk, the hem of her yellow sundress swishing against her shapely calves. From behind, he’d never have known she was expecting a baby.

      When they reached the front porch, she paused near the railing, took a deep breath of country air and scanned the yard. “I’ve really missed this place.”

      Roger would be glad to know that. It would make it easier for them to put the past behind them.

      “It’s been a long time,” Graham said, finally addressing the elephant in the room. “How’ve you been?”

      “All right.” She turned to face him and bit down on her bottom lip, as though things might not be “all right.” But if that was the case, she didn’t mention it. “How about you? I see you’re still hanging out on the Galloping G.”

      “I live here now. In the foreman’s quarters. I guess you could say I’m your uncle’s right-hand man.”

      She pondered that bit of news for a moment. “I guess some things haven’t changed.”

      Actually, she was wrong. A lot had changed, and there were more big changes coming down the pike.

      “So, how’s your family?” she asked.

      “Same old, same old.” It was a stock response to keep from going into any real detail. Sasha didn’t know that he’d never been close to his father—and even less so now that he’d chosen not to work at Robinson Tech, like most of his other siblings.

      When she nodded, he offered a more interesting response and something she might soon hear from the neighbors. “My brother Ben and my sisters Rachel and Zoe have gotten married recently. And my brother Wes is engaged.”

      “That’s nice,” she said, providing her own stock response. “How recently?”

      “All within the last six months.” Then, for some damn reason, he added, “We might also be taking on a new last name.”

      Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

      Since it was too late to backpedal now, he continued with the unsettling truth. “Apparently, my dad was once a long-lost black sheep in the Fortune clan. His name was Jerome, not Gerald.”

      Graham decided not to mention that Ben and some of his other siblings had taken on the Fortune name. But he wasn’t about to do that, especially when his father refused to admit the connection.

      “Wow,” Sasha said. “And you never knew?”

      “No, Dad kept that a secret from us, along with other things.” Graham wasn’t about to go into all that. Not now, anyway. Maybe not ever. He wasn’t particularly proud of the fact that his old man, a guy most people considered a quirky tech mogul, had eight legitimate kids, as well as who-knew-how-many illegitimate ones.

      “How do you feel about that?” she asked, easing close enough for him to catch the faint hint of her orange-blossom scent.

      He blew out a sigh, hoping to eliminate the taunting smell, as well as his lingering concerns of being a shirttail relative to such a famous family. It didn’t work in either case.

      “It’s been a lot for me to take in,” he admitted. “So now my life on the Galloping G holds an even bigger appeal than it did before.”

      “I can imagine. News like that would be...stunning. How do your brothers and sisters feel about it?”

      “Actually, some of them hope it’s true. But the others aren’t too keen on it.” Graham, of course, was on the not-exactly-pleased side of it.

      He paused for a beat, realizing Sasha didn’t have siblings—or even a cousin any longer. So he didn’t want to sound as though he resented having a big family. “I suppose you can never have too many relatives. It’s a cold world out there, so the more people who have your back, the better.”

      Instead of smiling or commenting, Sasha just stood there as tears welled in her eyes.

      Uh-oh. He hadn’t meant to trigger her sadness. Was she missing Peter? Her parents?

      She swiped below her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I’m sorry. Just the result of my pregnancy hormones at work.”

      That made sense. And it made him feel a lot better about setting off her tears. “How far along are you?”

      “Seven months.”

      “Your husband must be thrilled.”

      Sasha glanced down at her sandals and didn’t speak or look up for several beats.

      He must have put his foot in his mouth again, although he had no idea why. Was she unhappy about the baby?

      “I’m sorry if I was out of line,” Graham said.

      Sasha shook her head. When she looked up and caught his gaze, her eyes were glossy. “Gabe and I...split up.” Her hand again went to her belly, caressing the mound where her baby grew. “Actually, he left me.”

      Graham couldn’t imagine what would cause a man to walk away from his family when his wife was pregnant. He’d never met Gabe Smith himself, but Roger had. And the old rancher’s opinion of the guy was enough for Graham to believe the worst about him.

      He’d never reveal that to Sasha, though. So he said, “That must be rough.”

      “We’re doing okay. And on the upside, I’m now able to come visit Uncle Roger. Maddie is excited to see a real ranch—and horses.”

      Before Graham could respond, a little girl sidled up between them. She stuck out her hand to Graham and smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. “Howdy. Put ’er there, cowboy!”

      He was captivated by her happy expression, by the long blond hair and bright blue eyes, so like her mama’s.

      What kind of man would leave such an adorable duo? Not that Graham had ever had any reason to admire Gabe Smith. But surely he’d come to his senses and chase after them.

      For some strange reason, that thought caused his gut to clench, and he found it nearly impossible to speak. He did, however, reach out and take the child’s little hand in his.

      “You must be Maddie,” he said.

      “Yep.” The girl stood tall, a big ol’ grin stretching across her face. “And you must be Uncle Roger.”

Chapter Two

      Apparently, Maddie had awakened from her nap and gotten out of the car on her own. And while the little girl had no way of knowing who Graham or even Uncle Roger were, the idea that anyone could possibly confuse the two men brought a smile to Sasha’s lips.

      She placed her hand on the top of her daughter’s head, her fingers trailing along the silky, pale strands. “This isn’t Uncle Roger, Maddie. It’s his friend Graham.”

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