Mail-Order Christmas Baby. Sherri Shackelford

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      “Oh my word.” Mrs. Dawson took a dramatic breath. “The mother’s maiden name is listed as—” She paused to ensure she had everyone’s attention. “Heather O’Connor.”

      * * *

      Sterling searched for his voice, which seemed to be locked somewhere in the back of his throat. Otto covered his eyes with one hand and shook his head.

      Mrs. Dawson shot Heather a withering glare with enough heat to melt the shingles off a roof. She collapsed onto a bench and threw her wrist over her forehead. “I’ve been shaken to the core.”

      Mrs. Dawson was shaken, all right—she was practically vibrating with excitement. The woman thrived on gossip like a hog on slop.

      Heather O’Connor.

      She’d gone so pale, even her lips were leached of color.

      No one was looking at him anymore; all eyes were focused on Heather and the baby—the baby with a glimpse of red curls peeking out from beneath her eyelet bonnet. Ladies leaned their ears toward one another and spoke in shocked whispers. Gloved hands hovered over rapidly moving lips. Sterling’s ears buzzed. The talk had already begun.

      His gaze skittered around the platform and clashed with Heather’s. She blinked rapidly, and her mouth opened and closed. Her fingers fluttered against her ashen cheek. The crowd split their attention between the postmaster’s frantic fanning of Mrs. Dawson and Heather’s hand cupping the back of the baby’s head.

      A jolt of pity spurred him into action.

      He crossed the platform in two long strides and caught Heather’s elbow. “I would have helped you. Why didn’t you simply ask?”

      “No.” She gasped. “There’s been a mistake.”

      “I’m going to strangle Dillon.” Heather’s arm trembled beneath his fingers, and he struggled against a white-hot wave of fury. “He’ll do right by you, I promise you that.”

      “We didn’t...she isn’t...you don’t understand!”

      His chest tightened. The blame rested solely on his shoulders. He’d been responsible for her split from his brother, after all. His intentions were sound, though the outcome was proving calamitous. Their pa wasn’t an evil man, but he’d been manipulative and controlling. As the eldest son, Dillon had suffered the most. Their ma had warned the brothers about trying to please a man who only found fault, but Dillon craved their pa’s approval. Nothing he ever did was good enough, and the crushing pressure was shaping Dillon into a man Sterling didn’t recognize. He’d known instinctively that if he hadn’t removed his brother from their pa’s oppressive influence, he’d have grown into a miserable man.

      And Dillon would have stayed in Valentine for Heather. Anybody would. She was the sort of woman who made a man want to settle down and stay put. Sterling had convinced his brother to join the cavalry with only the barest hint of regret. The sweethearts were young. He’d talked himself into believing the flirtation was superficial and too new to last. Dillon’s easy acquiescence and their subsequent separation had convinced him that he’d made the right choice.

      Except he hadn’t anticipated a child. The stark pain in Heather’s eyes ripped away the last remnants of his convictions. Dillon had wronged her, but Sterling had wronged them both.

      Mrs. Dawson straightened her spine and touched her gloved fingertips to her chest. “I cannot believe you’d betray your own brother this way.”

      Sterling’s stomach clenched and he absorbed the full brunt of the accusing stares. In his shock, he’d forgotten his name was on the certificate, not Dillon’s.

      “The two of them must have been carrying on right under Dillon’s nose,” someone said behind him.

      “Wait just a minute,” he ordered, unsure how to defend himself without dragging Dillon and Heather down along with him.

      Otto blocked his view. “Don’t say anything, son. Not until we’ve got this sorted out. You’ll only make matters worse for the both of you.”

      Tears pooled in Heather’s eyes, and Sterling instantly longed to reach out and comfort her. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he’d always been drawn to Heather. Her looks were more exotic than traditionally pretty. During his travels he’d often found himself comparing other women he met to her. Her fiery red hair drew attention, and her button nose was adorable. Soft freckles dusted her face from forehead to chin, and her pale blue eyes were surrounded by nearly transparent eyelashes. No one would ever call her beautiful, but she was definitely eye catching.

      It was because he admired her that he’d kept his distance. His feelings for her had no bearing on why he’d convinced Dillon to join the cavalry, but she’d never understand. Neither of them would. He sensed if he let down his guard, she’d see past his bravado and discover the truth of his betrayal.

      Mrs. Dawson slapped down the postmaster’s waving arm. “It’s forty degrees. Stop fanning me, you dolt.” Sensing she was losing the crowd’s attention, Mrs. Dawson’s voice grew shrill. “We deserve an explanation for this—this travesty.”

      Heather started forward. “Let me see that paper. How do I know you’re not lying?”

      Otto held her back. “She’s not lying. I saw myself.”

      Sterling’s thoughts ricocheted around his head. Dillon had never given him any indication they’d been intimate, yet everything fell into place. After Dillon left, Heather had gone to stay with a friend in Butte. The timing worked, yet questions burned in his brain. Why list him? Had she discovered his part in their breakup? Was this a chance for revenge?

      “Miss O’Connor wants a piece of that ranch,” the postmaster mused loudly. “When she couldn’t snag the older brother, she set her sights on the younger one.”

      Sterling grabbed the man by the scruff of his shirt and nearly lifted him from his feet. “Say that again.”

      Otto wrestled the postmaster free. “Not here, Sterling.”

      Heather pressed both hands against her mouth and shook her head. “This isn’t right. None of this is right.”

      Fury pulsed through him. Sterling felt as though he was separating from his body. He’d trusted his brother. There were no secrets between the two of them.

      The child reached out a pudgy hand and tugged on Heather’s lapel. Her chubby pink cheeks plumped into a grin, revealing her two lower teeth.

      “Ma!” the child declared. “Ma!”

      The breath whooshed from Sterling’s lungs. It appeared there was at least one secret between them.

       Chapter Two

      “This is a disgrace,” Reverend Morris declared. “A disgrace and a black mark on our community.”

      The reverend, summoned by the crowd, had hustled them into the church and away from the prying eyes of the townspeople. Sterling and Otto had filed in behind Heather and taken a seat across the aisle.

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