The Rancher's Secret Child. Brenda Minton

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      She glanced toward the window. The sky had darkened and, if possible, the rain came down harder.

      “This rain is only getting worse.”

      He was right. The rain was coming down in sheets. After the previous week of rain, she knew that the creeks would rise. The roads back to San Antonio would be a nightmare.

      Before she left, she had to put all of her cards on the table. He deserved the whole truth, even if it meant losing Oliver. She reached into her purse and pulled out the letter.

      “You should read this. Sammy left it with her will.”

      He took the paper, but he didn’t open it. Instead, he slipped it into his pocket. “I’ll look at it some other time.”

      “Sooner rather than later, Marcus.”

      “Right.”

      “Fine, here’s my number.” She wrote it on a napkin and handed it to him.

      Thunder crashed and the windows rattled with the force of the wind. He glanced at her number and back to the storm raging outside. “You might ought to stay in town.”

      “I’ll be fine. It’s just a little rain. And it might let up before I leave. I have to pack up and check out of our room at the B and B.”

      She stood to retrieve Oliver from the kitchen, but Marcus pushed himself out of his chair first. “I’ll get him.”

      It was a start, so she waited where she stood and watched as he headed for the kitchen.

      He had stories. She didn’t want them. She didn’t want to be affected by a man her foster sister had deemed “too broken.” She’d always had a soft spot for broken things. It was her reason for becoming a nurse. Because as a nurse she had a reason to care, a reason to fix broken people. Fix them and send them home. Once she sent them home, they were out of her life. And then she had new people to care about, to help.

      Lissa knew her own hang-ups. She had lived in a broken and abusive home with a mother who never put her child first. A mother she had tried to fix. And she’d failed. Time and again. Six months ago she had promised herself that she wouldn’t be used. Ever again. She wouldn’t enable. She wouldn’t give money. She would always care—she would pray for the woman who had given her life—but she wouldn’t give her the power to hurt her.

      She and Sammy had been from similar backgrounds. As teens in the Simms home, they had made a pact to never be abused again, or tie themselves to broken men who would wound them the way their own mothers had been wounded. And they wouldn’t have children with men who would leave scars.

      When Sammy had met Marcus, she’d been drawn to him in a way she’d deemed unhealthy. She’d never introduced him to Lissa, but she’d told her about him and about how easy it had been to fall for his charm. She’d lost herself a little, and when she realized that, she’d broken things off.

      A few minutes later Marcus returned with Oliver. His aunt stood in the doorway of the kitchen, her mouth a firm line of disapproval. Marcus squatted, putting himself at eye level with his son. Lissa watched, wondering if Oliver suspected that this man was his father.

      “You be good, okay?” Marcus said. She heard the rasp of emotion and knew he cared. That he cared spoke well of him. If only he realized that.

      “I’ll be good. Can I come back and see your dog?” Oliver took a slight step forward. “And could I get a hat like yours?”

      Marcus nodded and he looked up, meeting her gaze. He stood and backed up a step, putting a hand on his son’s head.

      “We’ll be in touch?” Lissa asked.

      Again he nodded. She took Oliver by the hand and left. Even though he’d said they would be in touch, she wondered if he meant to keep his word or if this was an easy way to say goodbye.

       Chapter Three

      A couple of hours after saying goodbye to Lissa and Oliver, Marcus was in the field, feeling thankful for a break in the clouds and for the help of his twin.

      “How much rain are we supposed to get?” Marcus asked Alex as the two of them moved cattle from twenty acres along the creek to higher ground. They had opted for ATVs over horses. The rain had slacked off for a short time and they wanted to get the job done as quickly as possible.

      “They’re saying up to a foot of rain toward the weekend. This is just the appetizer,” Alex responded as he moved his four-wheeler the opposite direction in order to keep a few steers from bolting back toward the creek.

      Marcus glanced in the direction of his house. If they got that much rain, his house would be under water. The creek was coming up fast. He had sandbags, but he knew he couldn’t control the rise of water if there was a flash flood.

      “We’ll do what we can to keep the water out,” Alex called out as they moved the cattle through the open gate.

      A cow spooked. Marcus went after her, turning the four-wheeler hard to the right to stop her. She moved back to the herd and Alex closed the gate behind her. As they headed for the barn, the rain started again. They hit the throttles and raced side by side, stopping after they’d reached the safety of the equipment barn.

      Alex was laughing as he climbed from the four-wheeler. He took off his hat and shook it. “Wow, this makes a guy want to build an ark.”

      Marcus shrugged out of his raincoat. “I hate rain.”

      “But you hate it more when we’re going through a drought and everything dries up.” Alex sat sideways on the seat of the ATV. “So, when are you going to tell me about your kid?”

      “I guess I kind of thought it wasn’t any of your business.”

      “Really? I’m your brother. Your twin. It seems to me I’d be the person most likely to listen if you need to talk. You had to know that everyone in town would be talking about how much that little boy looks like you.”

      “I guess I hadn’t thought about it. And no need to analyze my mental condition, brother, I’m fine.”

      “Of course you’re fine. But you have a son. That’s huge.”

      “Yeah, it is.” He sat there thinking about Oliver. “He seems like a pretty great kid. And I don’t want to mess that up for him.”

      “I get that. But we don’t always get to choose how things work out,” Alex responded. “Well, we should make a run for the house before the rain picks up again.”

      “You can head home. I’ll do the rest of this myself. I’m sure you want to see Marissa.” Alex’s wife of five months. He’d found her standing on the side of the road in a wedding dress. She was a little bitty thing, but fierce, and she’d convinced Alex to give up his single ways. They’d married in December, a year after they’d first met.

      Alex wasn’t Marcus. As kids they’d been different as night and day. The same went for the two of them as adults. Alex thought things out and СКАЧАТЬ