“So then the sailor says; ‘That’s not an oar, that’s me sister!’ “ Cora deadpanned as she lifted a wet plate from the wash basin.

Even expecting the bawdy punchline, Lucas burst into surprised laughter as he took the plate and began drying.

“Have you been trading jokes with Lefty?” His chuckles subsided as he put the plate in the cabinet. “I swear that sounds like something he would say.”

“I never give away my sources,” his sister-in-law said with a wink. She turned back to the dishes, but threw her words over her shoulder towards him. “But you have some explaining to do, mister.”

“Me?” What had he done wrong?

Cora’s chin jerked towards the table. “Shannon isn’t laughing, which means she didn’t get it, which means you haven’t done a good enough job teaching her how to be naughty.”

From behind them, at the kitchen table, his wife snorted tiredly. “I understood the joke, Cora, I just didn’t think it was worth laughing at. Some of us have standards, you know.”

Lucas leaned around Cora, even as he dried another plate, to smile at Shannon. “And some of us love you for your standards.”

“Some of us were hoping our sister would start making bawdy jokes too!”

“I’m not bawdy,” quipped Shannon. “I’m pregnant.”

Cora burst into laughter and Lucas joined. Even Shannon, looked utterly exhausted, chuckled. The last few weeks had been rough on her, but Doc Vickers in town insisted it was normal to be so tired in the early months of a pregnancy and assured Shannon she’d have more energy by the end of summer.

For her sake, Lucas hoped so. Still, he had to admit he found joy in heading upstairs right after dinner and holding her until she fell asleep. Sometimes he’d fall asleep too, and sometimes he’d get up and go back downstairs to sit at his mother’s small desk to work. But either way, it was nice to hold her as she slipped into dreamland.

On the nights he went back downstairs to the kitchen, he’d occasionally run into Cora, coming in from a twilight walk around the ranch. He worried about her, especially with no sign of what happened to Baker, but she assured him she was safe. She also flat-out refused to tell him what she was doing, saying only “an artist needs inspiration,” so he quit bugging her about it.

Now, he grinned fondly at his wife. “Dinner was delicious, honey.” Still holding the damp dish towel, he slid into the chair next to her and threw one arm across its back. “I wish you wouldn’t work so hard, but it was good.”

Her smile was as lovely as always. “I knew you loved my fried chicken. I wanted to make your birthday special.”

“How could it not be?” He tugged her shoulder closer until her head tilted towards him, and he placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “I have the best present a man could ask for.”

From across the kitchen, Cora interrupted. “A sister-in-law with impeccable comedic timing?”

Lucas didn’t tear his gaze away from Shannon’s beautiful blue eyes when he called out, “Not even close.” He lowered his voice when he said to his wife, “I have a wife who loves me despite my faults and a baby on the way.”

Shannon’s small hand came up to cup his cheek. “I do love you, Lucas. And no matter how annoying she is, Cora loves you too.”

He smiled. “Then I’m a lucky man to be surrounded by my family.”

“Well, since you two are just going to keep ignoring me, I’ll eat this birthday cake by myself.” Cora moved to the other side of the table and carefully set down a platter with the most beautiful lemon cake on it.

Lucas stared at the cake for a long moment, before glancing back at Shannon. “You did that?” His gaze was drawn inexorably to the dessert. “You made that for me?”

“Happy birthday, husband.”

He couldn’t help the smile that bloomed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a pretty cake!” He’d always had a soft spot for sweets, but his mother hadn’t been a baker. “In fact, I think it might be my first ever birthday cake.”

“Then I’m glad I could make it for you.”

“And I’m glad I could help by standing around and watch— Oh!” Cora’s quip was cut off by a gasp.

When Lucas managed to tear his gaze away from the delectable-looking cake, he saw his sister-in-law staring at the doorway. Not sure what to expect, Lucas tightened his hold on Shannon’s shoulder and turned in his chair.

And slowly rose to his feet when he saw Verrick standing there in the doorway looking, for the first time Lucas could remember…hesitant. Unsure.

The other man’s golden gaze locked on Cora’s, but after a moment, his attention shifted back to Lucas. He nodded once, still looking as if he wasn’t quite certain of his welcome.

Lucas wasn’t sure what to say. He’d invited Verrick to dinner a few weeks ago, and the older man had been surprised, judging from his expression. He’d hesitated, then shaken his head in almost an apology, which made Lucas wonder what was keeping Verrick away. Did he want to spend time with them? Was something holding him apart?

That had been during the same confrontation when Lucas had asked about his mother. He hadn’t had the guts to come right out and ask Verrick how he’d managed to father him, but the older man had understood.

After a long silence, during which Verrick seemed to struggle to find words, he’d finally said: “I have never forced myself on a woman.”

And that was that.

Verrick hadn’t seemed interested in saying more, and Lucas had been supremely uncomfortable with the discussion, so they’d both dropped it. Maybe one day he’d find answers from this man who was his father, but maybe not. Maybe there were secrets Verrick was keeping for a reason, secrets that could change Lucas’s memory of his mother. He wasn’t sure, but he’d realized something surprising; He trusted Verrick. He trusted the man to protect him and his family, and he trusted that on some level, Verrick cared for him.

And on some level, he cared for the older man too.

He was the first to break the silence. “Would you like some cake?”

Verrick’s eerie golden eyes flicked to the table and to Cora once more, and he seemed to consider it. Finally, he nodded again. “I am partial to sweets.”

“My mother certainly wasn’t.” Had he inherited this from his father, the man standing before him?

Verrick’s eyebrow twitched. “Not that I can recall.”

And Lucas smiled slightly to realize he was sharing reminiscences about his mother with the man who’d fathered him. They weren’t the type of memories he would’ve preferred, but still… There was a strange sort of rightness to the whole encounter.

Verrick stepped further into the room. “Today is your birthday.”

He’d remembered.

From the table, Shannon spoke up. “It’s traditional to wish someone a happy birthday, you know.”

“And will my words change the state of his birthday? Will my saying so make it a happier day for him?”

It sounded as if the two of them had had this conversation before.

There was a grin in Shannon’s voice when she said, “Yes, Verrick. I really think it would.”

Lucas turned slightly to see his wife staring at his father with a sort of challenge on her face and a smile on her lovely lips. And Verrick seemed to understand.

He inclined his head to Shannon, then turned his attention once more to Lucas. “Happy birthday, Lucas.”

Inexplicably, Shannon was right. Verrick’s words did make Lucas’s day happier.

“Thank you.” He gestured to the seat beside Cora’s. “Would you like to join us?”

Verrick stared at him a few moments longer than comfortable, then turned his attention to Cora. Another pause, then he nodded. “Yes. Very much.”

Cora smiled. “You’re just saying that because you want to try this cake Shannon made.”

The older man didn’t blink, didn’t react. His eyes flicked to Lucas. “Possibly.”

From the table, Shannon mock-whispered to her sister, “I think that was supposed to be a joke. We’re still working on the concept.”

“I think you should work with him on delivery,” Cora whispered back, grinning at Verrick the entire time.

“He doesn’t have your superb sense of comedic timing, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Cora responded. “I’ll have to teach him the one about the man and the horse.”

“Just leave out the hand gestures, please.”

Lucas could barely contain his laughter as he watched his father—the west’s most notorious gunslinger—glance helplessly between the two women, obviously not understanding their teasing.

Here Lucas was, standing in his kitchen, surrounded by his family on his birthday. He had a wife whom he adored, a baby on the way, and a sister-in-law who kept life interesting. He had a ranch he could build into a success, a delicious-looking lemon cake, and friends who cared about him. And now, thanks to a twist of fate, he had the chance to get to know his real father.

When he clapped Verrick on the shoulder, the man looked startled at the casual familiarity. That didn’t stop Lucas from smiling into golden eyes a few shades lighter than his own, and jerking his thumb to the table—and the delicious cake.

“If you want dessert, you have to put up with these two.”

“I’ve endured worse.” Verrick’s delivery would’ve been deadpan, if he had any other tone to compare it to.

Shannon mock-whispered, “His jokes are getting better.”

“Almost as good as mine,” Cora responded.

Lucas’s grin grew as he watched Verrick’s brow raise.

“Welcome to the family, Father.”