Lone Star Blues

Still trying to stop all those wussy groans that he was making.

It was time to man up and get some answers as to what was going on. Or read something. Or stand up. He could groan later, in private.

“How old is he?” Dylan pressed, but it was a question that caused both the cop and the social worker to huff. That was probably because he’d already asked them that or had already been told. At the moment, his mind felt a little like a sieve.

“Corbin’s two and a half,” the social worker answered. She’d told Dylan her name, Susan something-or-other. So had the cop, Officer something-or-other. But that information wasn’t sticking in his head, either. “And you need to sign for him, remember?” she reminded him.

Yeah, the social worker had made the signing thing pretty clear, but Dylan wasn’t sure he could hold the pen she kept thrusting at him much less sign his name. Hell, he still had trouble standing when he finally managed to get to his feet.

“Here are Corbin’s meds.” Susan handed Dylan a bag. “He has asthma, and the directions are on the inhaler. It’s important that he not miss a dose because it could be dangerous.”

Shit. That sent Dylan’s heart into another tailspin. Not only did he have a kid, but he had one with a medical problem. One that could be dangerous.

Lucian didn’t seem to hear any of that. He huffed when he handed the papers back to Dylan, but he aimed his attention at the social worker. “Why was Adele arrested?”

Susan looked at Officer something-or-other, and both ended up shaking their heads. “Look, I don’t know the charges against her,” the cop explained. “I’m only trying to do my job. Just have your brother sign the papers so I can be on my way and get to my kid’s ballet recital.”

“Dylan’s not signing anything until our lawyer gets here,” Lucian snapped. “And until I’m convinced this child is actually his. What proof do you have other than Adele’s claim?”

It was a good question, and everyone seemed to think Dylan had the answer. The cop, social worker, Karlee and even Booger looked at him. No doubt waiting to hear him say the magic word.

Yes. Or no.

But at best Dylan could only offer a maybe.

He didn’t remember ever having sex with Adele. Even if she hadn’t been Jordan’s cousin, she was so not his type. He didn’t have a thing for women with trouble written on them—literally. Jordan had told him that when Adele had been just fifteen, she’d convinced some tattoo guy to ink TROUBLE across her chest. There was no way Dylan would have willingly gotten involved with her.

That said, just this very morning, he’d woken up from a hangover with a naked woman in his bedroom. The last time he’d had a memoryless hangover like that was more than three years ago.

Right around the time Corbin Dylan Rivera could have been conceived. Why would Adele have named the boy after him if he wasn’t Corbin’s father?

“There’s no other proof—” Susan said at the same time Corbin interrupted her and said, “What de doggy’s name?”

The sound of his voice seemed to freeze everybody for a couple of seconds. For Dylan, it was because that little voice stirred something inside him. It was a reminder that this was a living, breathing, speaking child and not just some signature required on a paper.

“Booger,” Dylan told him.

The right side of Corbin’s mouth lifted in a smile, and the Yorkie must have taken that as a “Come here, boy” because the dog quit chewing on Dylan’s boot and trotted toward the child. What was even more surprising was that he didn’t immediately start chewing on any part of Corbin or his clothing. Booger just sat there, calmly looking up at Corbin.

The boy bent down and ran his hand over the dog’s head, a soothing gesture, much like what Karlee was doing to Dylan. The hand running soon turned to a full pat before Corbin sat down on the ground with the dog. Booger jumped straight into his lap and started licking his face.

Corbin laughed.

That stirred yet something else in Dylan. He didn’t know much about kids, but Corbin wasn’t asking about his mom. Nor was he asking who these strangers were who were staring at him. He must have heard the social worker say that Dylan was his father, but he hadn’t brought that up, either. Maybe it was simply because he was too young to express himself that way, but Dylan thought of another possibility.

A bad one.

Maybe Corbin’s life with Adele had been filled with stuff just like this. Maybe he’d been shuffled around until Adele had no other place to shuffle him.

And that felt like a kick in the teeth to Dylan.

It had been bad enough that he might have a son that he didn’t know about, but it was a whole new level of hell to think this child might have been neglected or mistreated.

Dylan snatched the papers from Lucian and glanced through them. Now that he was seeing things a little clearer, he noticed what was in the document. It wasn’t an acknowledgment of paternity but rather a temporary custody agreement that would expire in just thirty days. One that Adele had already signed.

“Don’t do that,” Lucian warned him when he took the pen from the social worker. “Wait until the lawyer gets here. Wait until we can do a paternity test.”

But Dylan ignored him and signed it. The moment the woman had the papers, Dylan held out his hand to Corbin. “Are you hungry?”

Corbin nodded so fast that it tugged away at Dylan again. It had no such effect on Lucian, though. He was trying to get the signed paper back from Susan, but Dylan ignored that, too, and he led Corbin onto the porch.

The housekeepers parted like the Red Sea to let them through the front door, but the moment Dylan was in the foyer, he spotted a problem.

The naked woman. Misty Turley.

Thankfully, she was dressed now. For the most part anyway. One of the heels was broken so she was hobbling down the steps, and the right strap on her barely there dress had slipped off her shoulders, pulling down the dress so that her nipple was practically showing.

She opened her mouth, but then her attention fell on Corbin. “Oh,” Misty said. “Sorry.” She fixed the dress, swiping at it. “Is this one of your cousins?”

Dylan looked at Corbin. Corbin looked at him. And Dylan just shook his head. No way would any of this stay a secret for long. The housekeepers had already disappeared, which meant they were likely off somewhere phoning and texting every person they knew. It was possible it’d be on the news before Corbin and he made it to the kitchen.

“He’s my son,” Dylan answered, and he was more than a little surprised at how easily those words rolled off his tongue.

Misty’s eyes widened, and her face flushed. “Oh,” she repeated. “I’m so sorry.” She repeated that again, too, and with her forehead bunching up with every step, she went to him, the sound of her broken shoe slapping on the marble floor of the foyer. “I didn’t know.”

Welcome to the club.

Misty looked around as if trying to figure this all out. Dylan suspected that he had the same kind of look in his own eyes.

“I had the limo you hired drop me off here last night,” Misty whispered. “It was all because of that bingo card. I got the one that said surprise s-e-x with Dylan Granger. But I fell asleep while I waited for you to come home.”

Dylan really didn’t want to get into this right now, but he had to ask. “How’d you know where my bedroom was?”

“My sister, Melanie, mentioned it in conversation. But don’t worry,” Misty quickly added, “I’ll put a stop to that stupid game. Little pitchers have big ears, and you wouldn’t want your son hearing about it.”

Dylan couldn’t agree more. The game had been an embarrassment right from the start, but nothing he’d said in protest had stopped it. Who knew that instant fatherhood would do the trick?

“You need a ride home?” Dylan asked when Misty started for the door.

Misty shook her head. “I’ll ask one of your hands. You’ve got more important things to do.” She mumbled another apology and headed out, past Lucian and Karlee who were still talking to Susan and the cop.

Yeah, he did have plenty to do, and Dylan started with looking in the bag. There was indeed an inhaler, and just as the social worker had said, the directions were on it. He’d need to make sure Corbin took it in the morning.

“Morning,” Dylan mumbled. It hit him then that for Corbin to be there in the morning, he would also be spending the night.

Thirty of them.

There went Dylan’s heart racing again.

“I gotta pee-pee,” Corbin said.

The kid might as well have announced he needed a rare form of uranium to save the world. Like just about everything else that’d happened this morning, Dylan didn’t know how to handle it. Was Corbin wearing a diaper? If so, Dylan was positive he didn’t know how to deal with that, but maybe Susan or the cop did.

He went to the powder room that was just off the foyer, and Dylan threw open the door. “Wait here,” he told Corbin, and he hurried back to the porch to get help from the social worker. Since she was still in an argument with Lucian, Dylan took hold of Karlee instead.

“Corbin has to go pee-pee,” Dylan said, and he wished he hadn’t repeated the boy’s words.

Apparently, being superefficient didn’t just apply to Karlee’s business skill set because without hesitating, she nodded and went to the powder room as if this, too, was part of her job description. But by the time they got there Corbin already had his elastic-waist jeans down to his knees. His superhero underpants, too, and he was peeing. The stream wasn’t going in the toilet because he wasn’t tall enough, but it was landing in the general vicinity of where it was supposed to go.

“Flush,” Corbin said. Or rather he said an approximation of that as he flushed. “Pull up.” Another approximation that he said, though Dylan did have to help a little when his jeans got caught on his butt cheek. “Osh hands.”

Dylan helped with that, too, by lifting him up to the sink, but Corbin managed the soap and water all on his own. He dried his hands on the sides of his jeans. There was a towel by the sink, but the jeans worked, too.

Dylan glanced out the front door. It was still wide-open, and he could see that the cop and Susan were now gone. Lucian was there, though, pacing and talking to someone on the phone. Their lawyer, probably. Lucian wouldn’t give up on finding a way to undo this.

“Lunch now?” Corbin asked. Or rather, “’unch now.” He tugged at Dylan’s hand.

Dylan’s next moment of panic wasn’t as strong as the pee-pee reaction. Food, he could handle. Or at least semihandle.

“Sure. This way,” Dylan said, and he was about to lead the boy to the kitchen, but Lucian came toward them.

“Have you lost your mind?” Lucian growled. “Why the hell—”

“Uh, I’ll see what Corbin and I can find to eat,” Karlee interrupted. Probably so that the boy wouldn’t have to hear this, she whisked Corbin away with Booger scampering after them.

“Why in the blazing hell did you sign that paper?” Lucian demanded.

“Because it was the right thing to do. Even if he’s not mine, he needs a place to stay until all of this is sorted out. And besides, it’s only for thirty days.”

Lucian gave him a look that could have melted a glacier at the peak of the Ice Age. “The temporary custody arrangement is for thirty days, and then there’ll be a hearing.”

Dylan shrugged. “By then Adele should be out of jail, and we’ll get this all worked out.”

“No.” And because Lucian didn’t immediately add anything to that, Dylan didn’t have a clue which of those two things got the no-vote. “Adele won’t be getting out in thirty days,” Lucian snapped. “With her criminal record combined with the current charges, she’ll be lucky if she gets out in five years.”

Shit on a stick. There came another of those funny feelings. A sick one in the pit of his stomach.

“And as we speak,” Lucian went on, “Adele’s lawyer isn’t working on getting her released from jail. Instead, he’s filing the paperwork to give Corbin to you permanently.”

CHAPTER THREE

“DO YOU REMEMBER when you got that tat in Singapore?” Theo asked her.

With a question like that, Jordan knew where this phone conversation was heading. It was going to be a mini life lesson. One that she wouldn’t want to hear but Theo would tell her about anyway.

The tat had indeed been a huge mistake. It’d not only gotten infected and ruined the rest of their vacation, but the inker had also botched it big-time. The Chinese symbol was supposed to be for “military” but instead looked like a stick figure with an enormous engorged penis. Worse, the penis pointed in the direction of her butt, making it look like a sordid sexual invitation to anyone who got a glimpse of it.

“Well, I think this is an even worse mistake than the tat,” Theo concluded. “It’s not a good idea for you to make this trip.”

And therein was the mini life lesson Jordan had been expecting while she drove from the San Antonio Airport to Wrangler’s Creek. Theo was right, though. It wasn’t a good idea. But it wasn’t as if she had options. No. Dylan and Adele had seen to that.

“I can be there in Wrangler’s Ridge in a day or two. I’m sure I can get leave, and I can help you deal with this situation,” Theo added. He’d already made that particular offer twice. It had preceded the tat reminder.

“Wrangler’s Creek,” she automatically corrected. “And really, there’s no reason for you to fly all this way.” Especially since Theo was stationed in Germany. Also, he’d eaten up a lot of his leave to be with her during her so-called recovery.

“Yes, there’s a reason for me to be there. A damn good one. You,” he argued. “You don’t know what you’ll be facing there. Adele can be so...unpredictable.”

Theo knew that firsthand, as well. He’d met Adele a few years back when they’d all ended up in San Antonio while Jordan was on leave. Adele had gotten mixed up with a group protesting a cause that Jordan couldn’t even recall. Things had gotten out of hand, rocks had been thrown, windows of an office building had been damaged. The only reason her cousin hadn’t been arrested then was because Theo had stepped in to talk the cops out of hauling her off to jail.

Theo had this whole rescue/hero thing down pat.

“Do the people there in Wrangler’s Creek even know you’re coming?” Theo asked a moment later.

Once she’d arrived at the San Antonio Airport, Jordan had texted Dylan to inform him that she was on the way, but she hadn’t checked her messages since then. She didn’t want to give him the chance to tell her not to come.

“It’ll all be fine,” Jordan assured her, though at best that was wishful thinking. Or possibly a whopping big lie.

Theo must have picked up on her doubt because he made a sound that he wasn’t quite buying it, either. “I hate that you have to go through this alone.”

Jordan knew Theo had her best interest at heart, but there was nothing that would stop her from making the drive so she could see Adele’s son and confront Dylan. She certainly wasn’t going to wait a day or two, either. She had waited long enough with the layover in Atlanta and the flight itself to San Antonio. And she’d seethed every minute of the delay. First for Adele not telling her that she’d had a child and second for Dylan screwing around with someone in her own family.

The man had no boundaries.

Of course, Jordan could say the same thing about Adele, but Dylan was six years older than Adele. He should have known better and kept his jeans zipped when she was around. Of course, from the bits and pieces she’d heard over the years, Dylan frequently unzipped.

But Dylan and Adele’s son wasn’t the only concern. There was the issue of Adele’s arrest.

Jordan had yet to find out the charges because she hadn’t wanted to call Dylan to ask him the specifics. A conversation like that was best face-to-face, but whatever Adele had done, Jordan needed to start working on getting her out of jail. That meant hiring a lawyer if she didn’t already have one.

“Are you still there?” Theo asked.

That’s when Jordan realized she hadn’t responded to the last thing that Theo had said. She was too busy bashing Dylan and Adele in her head.

“Yes, I’m here,” Jordan answered. “I just have a lot on my mind. And I’m trying to focus on the traffic.”

That last part for sure was a big fat whopper. Because there was no traffic to speak of. However, she wanted to get this call finished so she could gear up for the battle ahead.

“I won’t keep you on the line then because I don’t want you to get in an accident,” Theo said, and he paused again. “Look, I know the timing for this is all wrong, but have you given any more thought to what we talked about last week?”

Obviously, he was keeping her on the line despite his worry about an accident. But yes, she had thought about it, along with the swarm of information and memories. The swarm moved so fast sometimes that it was hard to catch onto only one piece. Well, except for the bad stuff. The bad memories had a way of lingering longer than the rest.

“You know how I feel about you,” Theo went on, “and after what happened, it’s made me realize that life’s too short not to hold on to the things we have. God, Jordan, I could have lost you.”

By things, he meant love. Theo loved her. Jordan had no doubts about that. He’d risked his life to rescue her, and he would do it again if necessary. Since her rescue, he’d made it clear that he wanted marriage. Jordan wanted that, too.

But she didn’t love him.

“I’m still thinking about it,” she settled for saying. She hated blowing him off like that. He deserved better. But right now, her emotional energy was spent. Any energy she could muster would be to work out this mess with Adele and Dylan.

Now it was Theo who hesitated. “Just promise me that while you’re there, you’ll keep taking your meds.”

Yes, that. Jordan was sorry she’d told Theo that the doctors at the base in Ramstein had prescribed her anxiety meds. And she’d taken them, too, while she was there for medical evaluation and debriefing. She’d also taken some on the flight because being in closed-in places made her feel on the verge of a panic attack.

But Jordan wasn’t sure about continuing the drugs.

They made her feel out of it, as if she weren’t quite herself. No need to have pills do that since she already felt that way.

“I brought my meds with me,” she said, and hoped that Theo wouldn’t say anything more about it.

He did.

“I just don’t want the flashbacks to hit out of the blue and pull you down,” he went on. “The meds will help you stay ahead of things.”

In this case, things meant the fear that kept coming back. It washed over her in waves, and yes, it did hit out of the blue.

Often.

And sometimes, it was so bad that she thought the panic might finally win and that she would have a full-blown attack. However, she doubted any dose of meds was going to make her forget that she’d been at the mercy of men, soldiers, who at any moment could have killed her and the rest of the crew.

“I need to go,” Jordan told him. “I’m in Wrangler’s Creek, and I’ll be at the Granger ranch soon. I’ll call you when I know more about Adele and Corbin.”

Just saying the boy’s name brought on a new kind of wave. A jumble of emotions. More anger at Adele for keeping him a secret. Concern for what would happen to him now that Adele was in jail. But there was also love. Despite the circumstances, Corbin was her flesh and blood, and even though she’d yet to lay eyes on him, she loved the little boy.

Jordan ended the call with Theo and took the turn down Main Street. A definite blast from the past. She’d been raised in Wrangler’s Creek, but it’d never especially felt like a place she wanted to be. The only times she’d been at peace here had been while she was with Dylan.

And that hadn’t lasted, either.

The restlessness had come. The feeling of inadequacy that most people from the other side of the tracks probably felt. She hadn’t been grounded here like Dylan. She still wasn’t.

After their marriage had ended, she’d had no trouble going. She had moved, leaving Adele and her mother behind. By then, her dad had been long gone. After Adele had finished high school, she’d also left—that’d been only a couple of months before Jordan’s mom had been killed in a car accident. After she’d died, there had been no reason for Jordan to come back.

Not until now.

Her chest tightened when she reached the gate to the Heavenly Acres, Dylan’s family’s ranch. The name was one of those ironies of life because so few heavenly things had actually happened there. Dylan’s family wasn’t exactly the heaven-inducing sort. For that matter, neither was Dylan unless it was a veiled reference to his sexual abilities. Those abilities were one of the big reasons he’d convinced her to marry him. They had temporarily glossed over problems that couldn’t have stayed glossed over for long.

The gate was open, no doubt left that way for her since it was normally closed, but that didn’t mean the Grangers were welcoming her. Not a chance. Jordan figured she’d managed to rile every single one of them when she’d ended things with Dylan. She would no doubt rile them further today when she confronted Dylan.

Other than a new house by the creek, the ranch looked pretty much as it had way back when. There were acres of pastures and pristine white fences. Plenty of livestock, too. All the things to let her know that the Grangers were still as wealthy as they always had been.

The tightness in her chest went up a huge notch when she pulled into the driveway of the massive house—yet another sign of wealth.

Despite having been married to Dylan, Jordan had never spent a single night in the place. Dylan and she had lived in the little guesthouse at the back of the property. It hadn’t been nearly as grand as the family “estate,” but it had given them the privacy that they’d thought would somehow help them succeed at something that had been doomed right from the very start.

Jordan pushed that all aside now. Pushed away her tat/mistake conversation with Theo, too, as she pulled to a stop in the driveway. She glanced in the mirror to see if she looked as nervous and worried as she felt.

She did.

If she’d been in a police lineup, she would have been an immediate suspect for multiple felonies because the nerves were showing all over her face. Her eyes were even a little twitchy. She’d ditched the perverted Easter bunny hoodie and hat. Now she did the same to the sunglasses, and she felt instantly naked.

Exposed.

Which really wasn’t a good thing to feel around Dylan. He had a way of undressing her with that bedroom smile. Or at least once it’d been bedroom-y. As upset as she was about all of this, it was highly likely she was immune to Dylan and anything he dished out.

When she stepped out of her rental car, she got another reminder. Of the scalding Texas heat. It was May, not yet summer, but even though the sun was about to set, the temps were still in the midnineties. Of course, it’d been hot on the deployment, but there’d been no thick humidity or pollen.

Before Jordan had even made it a step, the front door opened, and she tried to steel herself up to see Dylan. But what she saw was actually a friendly face.

Her old high school pal, Karlee O’Malley.

With a big smile and her arms outstretched, Karlee ran to her and pulled Jordan into a hug. “It’s so good to see you. Wish it were under better circumstances,” she added in a whisper.

Yes, Jordan wished that as well, but the truth was she wouldn’t be here at the Granger ranch if it hadn’t been for those circumstances.

Karlee eased back from the hug, sliding her hand around Jordan’s waist to get her moving toward the house. “I hope we’ll have time to catch up...after you’ve chatted with Dylan and met Corbin, that is.” She paused a heartbeat. “How are you?”