The Wedding Wager: Dakota Daddy. Sara Orwig

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      “In this situation, you’re forcing me to be.”

      “Go ahead and contact your attorney or your whole law staff. You’ll have to take me to court to get your son.”

      “You check that out,” he repeated, and strode out, not waiting. He slammed the door behind him. She stepped to the front window to watch him, his long legs covering the distance to his car quickly. He climbed into his car and sat a moment without driving away. She could see he was on his cell phone and she turned to look up the phone number of Rolf Gustavsson, her family attorney, whom she had been seeing often lately because of her father’s demise.

      Relieved to hear his pleasant hello, she related her problem. He said he would do some research and get back to her. Ethan’s tire swing moved back and forth under a black walnut tree. It caught her eye and she ended the call.

      She rubbed her temple. She knew Jared had rights. Rolf might be a nice man who had always been helpful to her family in dealing with their legal matters, but Jared had access to the world’s best legal talent.

      A marriage of convenience? That was impossible. Not one of his suggestions was workable. She put her head in her hands, hating that Jared had discovered Ethan.

      As much as she loathed the thought of letting him have the ranch, that was better than losing Ethan to him. No way could she think of Ethan as their son. She had always thought of Ethan as her son only.

      Now she regretted not selling the ranch to him quickly and putting as much distance as possible between them. If only—but it was too late now. The damage was done and she was going to have to live with it. She had made too many wrong decisions in her life. Was she making another one concerning Ethan?

      Her head throbbed. Any joint custody she’d ever have to agree to would be ghastly to her. The fact that Jared had walked out on her had to count as a strong factor.

      Halfway through the night, she decided she would offer to sell the ranch to Jared if he would forget about Ethan. It was her only hope and she hated the thought, but that would be infinitely better than having to share Ethan with him.

      The rest of her sleepless night was filled with apprehension. At dawn she showered and dressed, but even sitting with a cup of coffee did nothing to shake her mood. It was too early.

      When she received a call from Jared, vitality seemed to ooze from the phone.

      “Good morning,” he said. “I thought you’d be awake. I’d like to talk to you in person.”

      “Come over. I’ve been up for a couple of hours,” she answered, hoping she sounded as upbeat as he did. She wondered what he had on his mind.

      “I’ll be there soon,” he replied.

      All too soon she heard Jared’s car pull up. She went to the porch as he climbed out. Dressed in a long-sleeve, charcoal Western shirt, jeans and boots, he hurried toward the porch. Wind tangled locks of his black hair above his forehead and he looked refreshed, filled with energy, and eager—all dire implications. She smiled despite the inner turmoil that kept her stomach churning.

      “Good morning,” he said solemnly, studying her.

      “Come inside to talk, Jared.” She turned to lead the way. He closed the front door and caught up to walk with her to the family room. “Have a seat.”

      He nodded and they sat facing each other. The blanket of silence did nothing to soothe her raw nerves. She could tell little from his expression.

      “I’ve heard from my attorney. Have you heard from yours?”

      She shook her head. “Not yet, but mine doesn’t have the resources or staff yours do, so I’m not surprised. Jared, if you’ll drop all this, I’ll sell the ranch to you and you can forget the bonus one million,” she said and held her breath.

      He shook his head. “That wouldn’t begin to take the place of getting to know my son.”

      Disappointment swept her and she locked her fingers together, knowing he had bad news that she didn’t want to hear.

      She put her hands on her face as she tried to keep from making a sound, but she couldn’t prevent tears.

      “Megan, don’t,” Jared said gently, his arms going around her. He pulled her close against him while she sobbed, letting go. “Stop crying. Plan with me and let’s get an arrangement we can both live with,” he said in the same gentle tone.

      She knew, without waiting to hear from her lawyer, that she was going to have to do what Jared wanted.

      Unable now to control her emotions after the worry of the past twenty-four hours and a sleepless night of anxiety, she sobbed and his arm around her waist tightened. He tilted her chin up and pulled out a clean handkerchief to wipe her eyes. “Stop crying,” he ordered in the same quiet, gentle tone. He brushed her tears away.

      He tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. “Look, you’re off work anyway, and so am I. Ethan is with your relatives. Come fly with me to the Yucatán coast. I have a home there and we’ll get away from interruptions for a couple of days. We’re going to have to establish some kind of truce.”

      While she couldn’t imagine spending a couple of days with him, she had to work something out or he would do as he warned. She knew Jared well enough to know that any threat he made he would carry out, if he had to.

      On the other hand, they weren’t going to court. He wasn’t taking Ethan away. Or so he said. “I guess I don’t have any other choice,” she said.

      “That’s better. I can have a plane ready in an hour. How long will it take you to wind things up here to leave for two or three days?”

      “I’ve never been away from Ethan, except when he’s here with my relatives and I’m in Santa Fe.”

      “He’s with them now and he’ll be fine.”

      She nodded, becoming aware of standing in his arms. His look was heated, and under his deep focus she realized his concern was no longer about Ethan. Jared’s torrid gaze made her heart drum.

      She pushed against his chest and distanced herself. “All right, Jared,” she said. “I can probably leave in an hour.”

      “I’ll come pick you up. Do you have a pen? I’ll give you a phone number at my house where they can reach you.”

      “I’ll have my cell phone.”

      “Give me a pen. Your cell phone might fail. This way you’ll have two possibilities for contact.” She handed him a pen and watched him, looking at the familiar handwriting that she still could remember. When he handed a business card back to her, it had two numbers, his house and a cell phone. “Is your plane at the airport?”

      “No, at the ranch,” he answered.

      “Then I’ll drive to your place. It’ll be more convenient.”

      He crossed the room to her, to slip his arms around her waist. “Stop worrying, Megan. We’ll work something out and I’ll do my damnedest to win his love and to get to know him. I want what’s best for Ethan, too.”

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