Chapter 24

Wyatt was totally, irrevocably screwed. He had been from the moment Gil Sanchez had cornered him during a visit to Earnest and uttered those six fateful words.

“Grace is pregnant with Hank’s kid.”

The timeline had been simple enough to reconstruct. After Hank had been fired by Jacobs Livestock, he’d sworn he’d show them all they’d made a huge mistake. For the first couple of months, it had looked like he might. According to Wyatt’s sources, Hank hadn’t been his normal, happy-go-lucky self, but everyone he’d worked with had been impressed by his skill in the arena. Unfortunately, distance and time had not improved his attitude toward the folks back home.

He’d blown into Earnest the weekend before Thanksgiving, pissed off at the world. He hadn’t been in town ten minutes before butting heads with his father in the middle of Corral Café, and turning right around and leaving again. According to Violet, he hadn’t stopped to see his sister, or answered any of her calls or texts.

But at some point during that visit he had connected with Grace. Wyatt had never asked for details, and she’d never offered them.

Predictably, Hank’s visit at Christmas had been a disaster, topped off by the scene at the Lone Steer on New Year’s Eve. Hank’s version of partying had always been dancing and flirting, shooting pool and shooting the bull, not stumbling into the bar already shit-faced and truly mean for the first time in his life. No one could have imagined that, even drunk, he would sneer at Grace, mocking her in a voice loud enough to carry over the roar of conversation during the band break.

“Sorry, Gracie. You’ve already had the only piece a’ me you’re gonna get.”

That weekend, Gil had walked in unexpectedly and found her crying in the office at Sanchez Trucking, where she worked a few hours on Sundays helping with filing. After prying the truth out of her, the bastard had immediately turned to Wyatt.

And any slim chance Wyatt might have had with Melanie had crumbled into dust. He couldn’t un-know that Hank had fathered a child. For Grace’s sake, he couldn’t tell anyone. He was trapped in a continuous lie of omission.

If he was already beyond the point of no return, why not give Laura what she wanted more than anything else?

And now he sat on his couch, cuddling Melanie’s niece, torn between strangling Gil and thanking him.

Pointing out that Wyatt wasn’t exactly a neutral party, Gil had provided his own attorney to look out for Grace’s interests when she’d agreed to the open adoption. The lawyer had done an excellent job, inserting the clause that gave her complete control of when or even if she would have contact with Maddie or her parents.

And insisting on a confidentiality clause. Unless Grace decided to inform Hank, her parents, or anyone else before then, Maddie’s existence—and parentage—would remain a secret until her tenth birthday, sentencing Wyatt to a decade of piling lie upon lie. Somehow, though, he had continued to cling to a miniscule grain of hope. He, of all people, should be able to worm his way out…

The moment Laura and Melanie came face-to-face, reality had crashed down on him like the proverbial ton of bricks. There was no finessing this situation. Even if he could tell Melanie tomorrow, if she could set aside her anger long enough to appreciate the impossible position he’d been in, Hank would still be planted firmly between them, and she wouldn’t push her brother aside for Wyatt’s sake.

He would never ask her to.

But Laura was finally a mother—and Wyatt was a godfather. He had given himself the unexpected gift of Maddie, a piercing joy that he couldn’t regret even as it threatened every other relationship in his life—creating an invisible wedge between Wyatt and Joe that neither of them had yet acknowledged.

“Where were you and Melanie all night?” Laura asked.

“We went for a hike.” Maddie squirmed, and he set her down on the couch beside him. “I fell and twisted my ankle, and we had to wait until this morning to hike out again.”

“That’s it?” Laura looked disappointed.

No, that wasn’t even close to it, but it was all he intended to share.

“Have you had any breakfast?” Julianne asked, always the practical one.

“No.”

He let his head drop back against the couch cushions and closed his eyes as Maddie poked inquisitive fingers into the thigh pocket of his shorts. The refrigerator door opened and closed and pans clattered, Julianne making herself at home in his kitchen.

The couch cushions barely moved when Laura sat down. “We’ve been talking…”

Wyatt opened one eye a slit, caught the quick glance that ricocheted between the two women, and felt the familiar twist of dread in his gut. “No,” he said flatly.

“Couldn’t you at least talk to Grace? See if she’d be willing to consider—”

“No.”

Startled, Maddie flinched away from him, her eyes going wide with alarm. Laura gathered her up and snuggled her close, stroking her back. “It’s okay, sweetie. Uncle Wyatt isn’t mad at you.”

Her tone was designed to inflict guilt, but damned if he would let them wind him up that easily. He focused on Julianne. “You agreed to her terms.”

And today, of all days, he couldn’t deal with this. His mind insisted on weaving an alternate version of what the previous night could have been, and where that kiss could have led. But that could never happen in this reality, and piled on top of his pain and exhaustion, the overwhelming shittiness of it made him want to howl.

He clamped his hands around his head and dug his fingers into his scalp. “Even if Grace was willing—which I guarantee she is not—we don’t even know where Hank is, or what kind of mess he might be in when we find him.”

“Are you sure you will?” Laura asked.

Wyatt nailed her with a loaded stare. “I’ve got my inside man working on it.”

“You asked my father to find Hank?” Her eyes went wide with distress. “Does he know Maddie is Hank’s daughter?”

“Of course not. I said I needed to find someone. He didn’t ask for details. I didn’t offer an explanation.”

“He’s very good at ignoring inconvenient details.” Laura’s soft lips twisted as she pried Maddie’s fingers from around the pendant of her silver necklace. Her father might not have been directly involved in what had been done to her, but all the signs had been right under his nose, if he’d chosen to look. He also couldn’t quite come to grips with his daughter’s sexual orientation, compounded by her choice of life mate. People in their cloistered world didn’t marry outside their lily-white circles.

Laura shrugged off her rare display of bitterness, her voice going airy. “Well, if Hank has so much as cashed a check, my dearest daddy will be able to track him down.”

And then he and Wyatt would never speak of it again. Laura’s father had fingers in so many financial pies that there was almost no limit to his reach. Wyatt had no desire to know what arms were being twisted on his behalf, but anyone who earned money, filed taxes, or accumulated debt left a trail.

At least, that was Wyatt was banking on. Pun intended.

Julianne dished up scrambled eggs beside a toasted bagel and brought the plate to Wyatt, along with a glass of apple juice for him and a sippy cup for Maddie. She swept the little girl up into her arms and tweaked her chin. “You’re right. We made a deal, and we have to stick to it. Maddie will be fine. Won’t you, baby girl? You’ve got two mommies and Uncle Wyatt who love you enough to make up for all the rest.”

The perfectly cooked eggs congealed into lumps in his stomach. Yes, Maddie would be more than fine. Laura and Julianne had the means to give her every advantage, and the home full of light and love they all deserved. And Wyatt…

He would be to them what he had become to Joe and Violet—an outer planet in their cozy little solar system, swinging by now and then to soak up a little reflected warmth.