The Texan's Surprise Son. Cathy Mcdavid

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СКАЧАТЬ ranch outside of Dallas—and the ranch wasn’t far from Baron Energies headquarters.

      “Thanks,” Jacob said, accepting a clap on his back from Jet.

      By then, he was surrounded. Friends, rivals and Daniel, all eager to congratulate him.

      “You didn’t do so bad yourself,” Jacob told Daniel. “Second place.”

      “Yeah, but I whipped your ass in saddle bronc riding.”

      He had. Jacob didn’t mind. He’d be taking home first place in two events today, bull riding and, thanks to the loan of a horse from a buddy, steer wrestling. Brock would be pleased.

      The brothers hung around for the buckle ceremony at the end of the rodeo and an interview with a local TV station. After that, Jet was raring to head home. Jacob didn’t blame him. Jet had a new fiancée waiting for him. Jasmine Carter. An engineer with twin girls.

      Another reason to hit the road, their sister Lizzie had recently given birth to the Baron family’s first grandchild, a daughter named Natalie Adele. Jacob felt a bit guilty about leaving town so soon afterward to rodeo. No need, he told himself. He’d made a visit to the hospital to see the baby before they left and brought flowers. In his opinion, the new parents, while elated, seemed frazzled and overwhelmed. They probably didn’t need a bunch of relations hanging around and underfoot.

      Jacob made a mental note to pick up something from one of the rodeo vendors for his new niece. What size T-shirt did a newborn wear?

      “You working tomorrow?” Daniel asked.

      “Bright and early.”

      Jacob’s shift at the Eagle started at 6:00 a.m. and ended late, 6:00 p.m. He was the senior safety manager for Baron Energies’ largest producing oil well. The extended shifts allowed Jacob to have at least three days off on the weekends to rodeo.

      It was a good job, and the flexible schedule a perk, but Jacob wanted more. Specifically, to be head of Baron Energies’ yet-to-be-formed alternative energy division.

      Brock had flat out refused to consider anything not dealing with oil. Until now. With each gold buckle Jacob brought home, Brock’s resistance wavered. He claimed to see potential in Jacob previously hidden. A national title would, Jacob was convinced, break down Brock’s resistance entirely.

      Thanks to a B-list country singer giving a post-rodeo concert, the arena stands remained packed, and the lines to the food vendors and merchant stalls blocked the midway. Jacob, Daniel and Jet wound their way through the throng of people, saying goodbye to their friends and promising to see their fellow competitors next weekend.

      “Excuse me, Jacob Baron?”

      At first, Jacob didn’t think anything of the unfamiliar voice calling to him. He and his brothers were often approached by female fans.

      Then he turned to look at the woman and was immediately taken aback. She looked vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t recall where he’d seen her before.

      “Jacob Baron?” she repeated.

      “Yes.” He answered without thinking.

      She started toward him, managing to cover the uneven ground gracefully despite her absurdly high heels that had no business being at a rodeo. Neither did the skintight black skirt and jacket she wore. “May I speak to you a moment?” Her glance darted briefly to his brothers before returning to him. “Privately.”

      This was no fan.

      Possibly a reporter, though he didn’t think so.

      Beside him, Daniel whistled. “Wow.”

      That was something of an understatement. Out-of-place wardrobe aside, the woman was killer gorgeous. Striking green eyes, long strawberry blonde hair and flawless skin.

      The same sixth sense he counted on in bull riding came suddenly alive, and it was warning Jacob to proceed with caution.

      “We were just heading home,” he said.

      “This is important.”

      After a moment’s hesitation he hitched his chin toward the parking area where they’d left their truck. “Go on, I’ll catch up with you.”

      “No rush, bro,” Jet said, a glimmer in his eyes. “We’ll wait.”

      Jacob gestured for the woman to lead the way.

      She wasted no time locating one of the few empty tables near the row of food vendors. In the arena, the band was setting up on a hastily erected temporary stage.

      “It seems you know my name.” He gave her a careful smile. “Mind telling me yours?”

      “Mariana Snow.”

      Jacob sat back, feeling as if he’d taken a blow from behind. “I’m sorry about your sister. I heard what happened.”

      Leah Snow. That explained why he found this woman—Mariana—familiar. Three years ago he’d dated her sister, though describing their one long weekend together as dating was a stretch. He hadn’t seen her since. She’d refused his calls and promptly quit barrel racing.

      Still, the rodeo world was a small one, and he’d learned of Leah’s unexpected passing after a short and intense battle with breast cancer. The news had startled him, and left him empty for weeks. Had that been why she’d refused his phone calls?

      “Thank you for your condolences,” Mariana said tightly. “It’s been a difficult three months.”

      “I didn’t know Leah had a sister. She never mentioned you.”

      Truthfully, they hadn’t talked much during those three days. He’d naturally assumed they’d get to know each other over time, only that hadn’t happened. Eventually, he’d written off the weekend as one of those temporary rodeo hookups, the kind he generally avoided.

      “I’m not surprised.” Mariana reached into the leather purse she’d set on the table. “Leah didn’t tell you a lot of things.” She extracted a snapshot and handed it across the table to Jacob.

      He took the photo, his gaze drawn to the laughing face of a young boy. “I don’t understand. Who is this?” He started to return the photo.

      Mariana held up her hand. “Keep it.”

      “Why?”

      “That’s Cody Snow. Your son.”

      For a moment, Jacob sat immobile, his mind rebelling. He hadn’t been careless. He’d asked and Leah swore she was on birth control pills.

      “You’re mistaken. I don’t have a son.”

      “Yes, you do. And with my sister gone, you’re his one remaining parent.”

      The photo slipped from Jacob’s fingers and landed on the table, the boy’s laughing face staring up at him.

      * * *

      FRANKLY, СКАЧАТЬ