Married for His Heir
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Sara Orwig
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One
“Just remember, curiosity killed the cat.” Nick Duncan shot his brother a narrow-eyed look, as if willing him to lay off.
But Stan didn’t take the hint. He merely shook his head and continued. “What do you expect, Nick? A woman you don’t know is coming by to tell you about an inheritance you didn’t know you had. Of course I’m curious.”
Nick had to agree, the man had a point.
He stepped off the porch into the front yard of his cattle ranch, the ND Ranch, taking a moment to let his gaze sweep over the landscaped front yard, green from the constant watering. But nothing could distract his thoughts. An inheritance?
“And you say our attorney told you to accept the appointment with her?” Stan asked, stepping up beside his oldest brother.
“Yeah. Apparently, she went to Horace and talked to him instead of calling me. How she found him, I don’t know. That should be personal information.” He swiped a hand across his neck. “I’ve been racking my brain, but heck, I don’t know any Talia Barton, not in the oil business, not from ranching, not socially. And I’m sure I’d remember. Since I stepped down as CEO at Duncan Energy, I don’t stay in Dallas. Only when I have to go to board meetings or something special. This ranch is where I live. I can’t think of any woman named Talia. There have been so damn few women in my life since I became a widower.”
“You mean no one that you’ve been interested in,” Stan clarified. “You have a steady stream of women coming to see you, bringing you enough casseroles and desserts to open a restaurant out here. I’ll bet you have a fridge filled with food in your Dallas house, too.”
“Oh, yeah. The ladies don’t want me to starve. They’ve got good intentions, but I’m not interested.” He hadn’t been interested in a woman in three years—and he didn’t figure he ever would be again.
He took off his Stetson and swiped it across his jean-clad thigh, as if he could banish the memories as easily as he did the dust on his hat. All this time and thoughts of Regina could creep up on him at the oddest times.
He squared his shoulders and replaced the hat. “Well, no matter who she is, this Talia Barton can come out here to see me. I’m not driving to Dallas. I told Horace.”
He’d also asked the attorney questions. Lots of them. But he hadn’t gotten any answers. Whatever this mystery woman had told Horace, he wouldn’t say. He’d merely insisted Nick make an appointment to meet her.
“Is Horace coming to the ranch?”
“No, I told him he didn’t need to. Whatever she intends to do, this meeting should be short.” Nick turned to his brother, looking into eyes that were as green as his own, and flecked with gold. “Come to think of it, Stan, you might as well stay. Whatever inheritance I’m getting, it may eventually involve you.”
“Oh, no,” Stan said, grinning. “I have my new horse loaded into my trailer and I’m taking him home. I’ll hear later what the mysterious Ms. Barton is giving you. And, by the way, have you told Grandmother?”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? Of course not. At least not until I know why we’re meeting.”
Stan laughed. “No, I guess not. I sure as hell wouldn’t tell her until I knew and maybe not even then.”
Nick clapped his brother on the back. “Come on—let’s go inside. I’m not waiting out here to greet Ms. Barton,” he said, turning for his ranch home.
“No, no.” Stan shook his head. “I told you, I’m leaving. This appointment is for you and it’s private. You can call and tell me what the hell a woman you don’t even know has for you.”
“I’m still tempted to ignore Horace and refuse to see her.”
“Horace has been our family attorney for years and your attorney since you turned twenty-one. You do what he says and meet with her. You know he’s not giving you bad advice.”
“I don’t know. Any attorney who won’t confide in his own client whom he has known since I was five years old is a damn poor attorney, if you ask me.”
“You know Horace has to have a good reason for not telling you what’s involved.” Stan started to leave, his wavy brown hair tangling in the breeze. “And it must be something good.”
“If it isn’t, I’m getting a new attorney,” Nick grumbled, gazing down the long ranch drive that disappeared around a curve where a tall cottonwood’s leaves fluttered in the wind.
Stan left, his boots clicking on the brick walk as he headed to his shiny black pickup with a horse trailer hitched to it.
While he rubbed the brown stubble covering his jaw, Nick watched the plume of gray dust Stan’s truck stirred as he drove away. In minutes the dust settled and he went inside to wait in the study. He only wished his thoughts could settle just as easily. But he couldn’t still the questions that swirled in his mind.
Talia Barton...
Since he had become a widower, he’d had a few one-nighters, all meaningless encounters, but not many of them and not in a long time. He had been working late hours to wear himself out, and working out before and after handling ranch tasks. He didn’t date and he didn’t want to. So how did he know Talia Barton?
It was fifteen anguishing minutes later when he heard a car pull up the ranch drive. He went to the window and watched as a black car slowed and stopped in front of the house.
In minutes the driver emerged from the car and Nick’s interest increased a fraction as he viewed a tall, leggy blonde in high heels, a navy suit and a white blouse. Looking as if she had just stepped out of an office or a photo shoot, she would turn heads wherever she went. If she had any persuasive abilities, he could see why Horace had told him to meet her.
He forced himself to stand still. His house manager served as a butler, and since Royce knew she was coming, he would bring her to the study. Instead, Nick watched her come up the steps and his pulse jumped. The woman was gorgeous.
He walked across the room to the open door. In seconds he heard Royce talking to her, and when they came into sight, Nick stepped forward. “Thanks, Royce.” He extended his hand to the woman. “Ms. Barton, I’m Nick Duncan,” he said as Royce left them.
The moment he wrapped his hand around her soft, warm hand, he felt a sizzling jolt of awareness, something that hadn’t happened since his wife. The reaction startled him and he looked more closely at her.
He saw a flicker in her thickly lashed blue eyes that caused his pulse to jump another notch. She felt something, too, and that knowledge fueled his reaction.
She cleared her throat and withdrew her hand. “I’m Talia Barton. Please call me Talia,” she said in a soft voice. There was a directness about her that made him feel she was a no-nonsense person, and once again, he thought that people probably did what she wanted.
“Come have a seat where we can talk,” he urged, motioning her into the study. “I’m curious what it is that you couldn’t tell me about by phone,” he said, his interest growing because he was absolutely certain he had never seen this woman in his life before now. He would not forget her. “My attorney has urged me to see you, so whatever it is, you’ve certainly convinced him.”
“I think you’ll agree after you hear me out,” she said, following him into the room. She took the leather chair he indicated and sat facing him.
Nick couldn’t resist looking when she crossed her long, shapely legs. His reaction to her startled him again. He hadn’t had this kind of response to a woman since his wife’s death almost three years ago. The anniversary of the plane crash that had taken his wife and baby would be in August. Since his loss, it was as if he had become numb, half dead himself and oblivious of women, except for a few one-nighters at parties far from the ranch.
Why was he having this reaction to this mystery woman?
* * *
Talia looked into green eyes flecked with gold and realized there would be nothing easy about this meeting. To add to her jittery nerves, Nick Duncan was not only handsome and appealing, but there was some kind of vibrant chemistry between them.
In every way she possibly could, including hiring a private investigator to get information on Nick, Talia had checked into his life. To her relief, all sources reported that Nick Duncan was intelligent, reliable, capable, confident, successful and tough when he needed to be. From all that she could find out, he had been a good husband and father, even though he’d had his son for only a brief time.
Once he’d checked out, she’d gone ahead with her plans to meet him and lay out her problem for him. But she hadn’t planned on this volatile chemistry that had simmered between them from the moment she had walked into the room.
When they had shaken hands the sizzle had startled her. So had the tingles when she’d met his gaze. It wouldn’t matter, though, she told herself, because they would never mean anything to each other. Still, she had been surprised. Since her disastrous marriage while still in college and then divorce, she hadn’t been drawn to any man. Besides, there was too much upheaval in her life now. But somehow, with a mere touch, Nick Duncan broke through all that. He was far more handsome and sexy in person than his pictures indicated. It wasn’t even his personality because he was being polite, cautious and reserved. She knew he wondered why she was there and what she wanted. She might as well tell him and get this over with.
Nothing in her life—not the deaths in her family or her broken marriage—had hurt as much as this. Tears threatened, uncustomary for her, and she swallowed, looking around the room as she fought to get her emotions under control. She had rehearsed what she would say to him, but now that the moment had come and she was actually facing him, she wanted to run to her car and drive home.
And then what? she asked herself. If she didn’t talk to him, the alternative was worse. Nick Duncan had checked out as a successful, intelligent, family-oriented man. A billionaire, owner of the ND Ranch, part owner of Duncan Energy, a company started by his father and now run by the two youngest Duncan brothers with Nick and his brother Stan on the board. Nick was a good rancher, a good businessman, a man who had had his own terrible loss. She had no choice but to do what she’d come here to do. She squared her shoulders and sat up straight, but before she could speak, he broke the awkward silence.
“Do you live around here?” he asked.
“I live in Dallas. I teach art in a two-year college.”
He didn’t know it, but his question gave her the opening she needed. She took a breath and gave him a faint smile.
“Mr. Duncan, I’m—”
“Nick, please,” he prompted her.
“Yes, well, Nick, I’m sure you’re curious as to why I wanted to see you...and there’s no need to wait. I want your help about something belonging to you.”
He leaned in closer, resting his hands on his knees as he looked at her intently.
“I’ve had a neighbor whose niece, Madeline Prentiss, inherited her house and Madeline and I became friends. Neither of us have any family, so we were drawn together. She had a degree and internship in landscape architecture. She worked for a landscape company and took a night art class I taught because she drew landscape plans for clients. We rode to class together that year and became even closer friends.”
She related the facts, the history that he needed to know, but the whole time she spoke, all she wanted to do was leave. She didn’t want to ask his help or ask him to do anything. She took a deep breath, looking into those curious green-gold eyes that made her heart beat faster, and suddenly she couldn’t go on. They stared at each other.
“I had this all rehearsed,” she said finally as she rose abruptly, “but it isn’t easy. Just give me a minute.”
“Sure. Take your time. Let me get you a glass of water,” he said, getting up and leaving the room. She suspected he did it to give her a moment to get herself composed. She knew what she had to do. When he returned, he held a tray with a pitcher and two glasses of ice and water. He handed her one, and when their fingers brushed, for just an instant, she felt another flash of intense awareness of him as an appealing man. While she sipped the icy water, her gaze locked with his. The look in his eyes made her heartbeat quicken.
“Want to have a seat?” he said, setting the tray on a table. As they sat down again, she noticed his gaze on her as she crossed her legs. She placed her glass on a coaster on a small table beside her chair and adjusted her skirt.
“This is hard for me, Mr. Dunc—er, Nick—but it is definitely overdue. I was telling you about a friend of mine, Madeline Prentiss.”
He nodded. “Is there a reason you’re telling me all this about this particular person?”
“Yes. I’m here because of Madeline. You see, almost two years ago when Madeline was at a party in Austin, she had a romantic night with a man she met there but she never saw him again.”
“I take it Madeline thinks I’m that man?”
“Yes. You were that man. That’s definite, and in the past, she told me about the night you two had.” She leaned in and had no choice but to gather her courage and blurt it out. “And there’s a baby from that encounter.”
* * *
Stunned, Nick felt as if ice water had been poured over him.
“You’re saying that I fathered a baby with this woman? And I’ve never heard a word from her about it? Why did she wait until now and why send you? Where is Madeline now?” He couldn’t stop the questions that spilled from his lips. Though part of him was in shock, the other part was in overdrive, and he wanted—no, needed—answers.
“Madeline didn’t want to inform you of her pregnancy because that night, you spent a long time telling her how much you loved your wife. You told her about losing your little two-month-old son and your wife in a plane crash. You also convinced her that you missed your wife and you weren’t ready to go out with anyone else. She told me you actually cried over your loss. Besides, she knew that you weren’t in love with her and probably never would be.”
“You’re using the past tense.” A chill skittered up his spine.
“That’s right,” Talia acknowledged. But she didn’t elaborate. Instead she said, “Madeline had a talent. She could sing and she had gotten auditions and began to get bookings that paid more than the landscape business.”
He suddenly remembered Madeline, because she had sung at the party the night he met her. Talia was right: she had talent.
“You remember her,” Talia said, startling him that she guessed his thoughts so easily.
“It’s a little blurry, but I do. I don’t go out much, so there aren’t many occasions to even try to recall, but I remember her because she was beautiful and talented. She sang for everyone that night.”
“Madeline was on the way to a successful singing career, until several months ago when she was killed in a car wreck. She was young and she didn’t leave a will. Since her death I’ve been caring for her baby, and now I’m in a fight with the state, which wants to take her precious baby away. I’ve pulled every string I can, but I’m not a relative nor the legal guardian of Madeline’s baby. Madeline left no directive, nothing to indicate that she would want to appoint me guardian of her baby. She had no family, either. You, on the other hand, are her baby’s blood father.”
He barely heard what she went on to say to him. His mind was stuck on one phrase. ...baby’s blood father...
He was the father of a baby.
A baby he didn’t know with a deceased mother he barely remembered.
“Sorry, give me a second. This is a shock.” He reached for his water and took a gulp. What he really needed was something far stronger. “When you said you needed to see me, I didn’t dream it would be about a baby. My baby. A baby that’s an orphan.”
“Not really an orphan,” Talia said, looking intently at him. “She has a living blood relative—her father. You. I’ve checked you out and you have high recommendations as to your character.” She paused a second. Then her gaze seemed to deepen as she continued. “I need your help, Nick.”
“How’s that?” he asked, trying to pay attention and listen to what she was saying, but the shock of learning he had a baby still dominated his attention.
“You can keep the state from taking her.”
“Her? A little girl?” he asked, his shock increasing. “I don’t know one thing about little girls.”
“There was a time you didn’t know anything about running a ranch or about baby boys, either.”
They stared at each other and he could feel an invisible ripple of conflict. He ignored it.
He had a baby girl whom he’d never seen. That was the only thought that dominated his mind. “How old is she?” he asked her.
“Fourteen months.”
“I had a baby boy for two months. He would be two years, nine months old now.” Trying to push aside a familiar dull ache at the thought of Regina and Artie, Nick took a deep breath. “Beyond the two months with Artie, I have no experience being a father. It was different when I had a wife and we wanted a family, but... I don’t know anything about babies. I don’t know anything about little girls...”
His hand practically shook as he put his glass down on the table. The next thought struck him like a raging bull. “You’re sure this is my baby?”
Talia showed no reaction. She maintained her composure as she replied. “Yes, Madeline was sure. You can get a DNA test if you’d like. Hattie is her name.”
“Hattie’s her name?” He liked the way it sounded.
She nodded. “I don’t have any doubt about the outcome, but no doubt you’ll be reassured when the DNA results prove that Hattie is your little girl.”
For a moment they sat in silence as he gazed out the window at his land spreading off in the distance. Was this true? Was he a father again? Even though he had been a father for two months, he couldn’t see himself as a dad to a little girl who was over one year old.
He looked back at Talia and met a cool, blue-eyed stare. She impressed him because in her quiet way, even when she didn’t want to break the news, she had taken charge of this meeting, something that didn’t happen to him with women, except for his grandmother.
“You’ve been caring for this baby?”
“Yes, I’ve been keeping Hattie since Madeline’s death. I watched Hattie often before Madeline died. As I said, she had no family and I was like a second mama for Hattie. Hattie has been in day care and I pick her up when I leave school. In a few weeks, the spring session will be over and I’m not teaching this summer. I’ll take her out of day care and be home with her.”
He sat quietly, mulling over all he had learned. How was he going to deal with this? He was a parent who didn’t know anything about babies or little girls and he wanted solid proof that this was actually his child.
“I want the DNA test,” he said. “Until I have proof, I don’t want to do anything.”
“I can understand that and I expected you to want confirmation. But you must understand, time is an issue here. However, if I tell the state agents that you’re looking into gaining custody of your child, they’ll probably back off for a while, especially long enough for you to get a DNA test.”
“If they don’t, I’ll talk to my attorney and we’ll deal with them.”
She opened her purse, pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. “Here’s the name, a number to call and the address for the DNA test. It takes time, but it will prove Hattie is your baby girl. My number is there also.”
Nick took the envelope, turning it over in his hand.
“In the meantime,” Talia added, “so we don’t waste time, I think you should meet Hattie.”
Maybe she was right.
He looked up at her. “You sound certain about my parentage. If I get this little child, if she is mine and the state backs off, where do you come in? You’ve been caring for her.”
She shook her head and looked away, and to his shock it looked as if her eyes filled with tears. “I love Hattie like she’s my own, but I know I have to give her up. She’s your baby. You’re young and you’ll marry again. I’m realistic enough to know there won’t be a place in her life for me once I turn her over to you.”
She ran her fingers over her eyes and he knew she wiped away tears. He thought about his own loss. He only knew his son two months, but he had loved him beyond measure, so he could understand her feelings. She’d loved this baby for fourteen months and a lot of that time she had been the sole parent with only the help of the day care. He was sorry that she hurt and he knew the hurt would only grow.
“It’s amazing how babies can wrap around your heart and steal it away,” he said gently and she gave him a startled glance. “If you live in the area, perhaps we can work something out where you can see her. We’ll talk about it after the DNA result is in,” he added.
“Thank you. That’s nice if it works out,” she said, still staring at him as if reassessing her opinion about him. She brushed her fingers over her eyes again and took a deep breath before she spoke. “You’re very doubtful this is your baby. I can understand that but—”
“You’re certain that Madeline gave you the straight story?” he interrupted to ask her. “I mean, if I am the father, she had almost two years to tell me about the baby.”
“I encouraged her to, but in the beginning, she worried that you might try to take Hattie from her. When her music career was beginning to take off she expected to leave Texas and move to New York or California or maybe Nashville, and she figured you’d never cross paths again.”
And if that had come to pass, he’d never have known about Hattie. If she was indeed his.
Talia must have read his thoughts because she said, “You get your DNA test and we’ll talk.” As she stood, he came to his feet immediately. “Unless you have some questions, I think we’re finished for now.”
“You don’t have a doubt, do you?” he asked and looked into her big blue eyes that made him draw a deep breath again and almost forget his question.
“No, I don’t. I do want you to know the truth and the DNA should convince you. That and Hattie’s looks.”
Startled, he stopped thinking about Talia’s blue eyes and stared at her. “You think Hattie looks like me?”
“You can decide when you see her,” she said, smiling faintly.
Her smile couldn’t hide the hurt that he saw in her eyes. She didn’t want to give up the baby she’d come to love. He could see that. He also saw the toll this meeting was taking on her. It was time to end it.
“I’ll get the DNA test and we’ll get back together,” he said as he led her out of the study. “I just can’t fully accept this until I have some proof. I’m glad you understand that.”
“Yes, I do.” She stopped at the front door and turned to him. “You have my name, address and phone number in that envelope. I’ll expect to hear from you.”
There was authority in her tone that reminded him of his grandmother and he almost felt he should promptly answer, “Yes, ma’am.” Instead, as he caught the scent of her perfume and looked into the depths of her eyes, he wanted to ask her out. The idea surprised him, and as fast as it came, he dismissed it. This woman had already complicated his life, and whatever happened, he needed to keep his wits about him and not get emotionally—or physically—involved with her. He wasn’t going to consider dealing with Talia if Hattie turned out not to be his baby, either. Too bad, really. He suspected she was as strong-willed as he was, and under other circumstances he would have liked to get to know her.
Talia reached for the doorknob the instant he did, and instead of the cold metal handle, his hand touched the warm softness of her wrist. Instantly, his heartbeat sped up and he was aware that mere inches separated them. Her skin was smooth and flawless; her rosy mouth was as captivating as her gorgeous blue eyes. When he couldn’t get his breath, the reaction she caused in him astonished him. Seconds after he’d lectured himself to resist her appeal, he reacted to it.
His eyes left her lips and traveled to her eyes when her voice broke the silence. “Nick,” she said, “I may not have the right to ask you but...” He saw her throat tighten as she swallowed back tears. “If she is your baby and you don’t want her, please don’t abandon her and let her become a ward of the state. Surely there’s room in your life and your heart for a child you’ve fathered.”
“If this is my child, I’ll take responsibility,” Nick said. He couldn’t help wondering if he was making a colossal mistake in committing himself, yet he wouldn’t abandon a baby that was his own.
“I’ll count on that. You won’t regret it. She is an adorable, happy baby,” she said, and he heard the wistful note in her voice.
Something hurt deep inside him as he once again thought of his own little boy, who came into his life and then went out too fast. Even though it was approaching three years since he last held Artie, he still hurt badly. “I’ll get the DNA and contact you whatever the answer.”
She nodded. “I’ll be waiting and we can go from there. Thank you for telling me that Hattie can rely on you.”
He opened the door and Talia stepped away, but he saw tears in her eyes again. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”
He watched her walk to her car, her hips swaying slightly with a poised, purposeful walk. She was one good-looking woman, but she had come into his life with potential news that would change it forever. So why the physical reaction to her? Maybe he was coming back to life and would have that reaction with any other attractive woman.
As fast as that thought came, he rejected it. He saw attractive women almost daily and had no such reaction. Not only attractive women, but friends, women who should stir the kind of response that this one had, but they didn’t.
He headed to his kitchen to get a cold beer and get Talia Barton’s big blue eyes and million-dollar legs out of his thoughts.
He opened his refrigerator and looked at all the casseroles, desserts and salads the local bachelorettes had brought. He wasn’t aware he even knew this many women. With a sigh he retrieved a beer, sat at the table and opened the envelope Talia had given him. He read the notes she’d jotted in her neat teacher’s handwriting. Then he called to make an appointment for tomorrow with the DNA people.
He took a long pull on his beer and stared into space, thinking about Regina and little Arthur. He wondered if he would ever stop hurting, ever stop missing them. How was he going to love a little girl he didn’t know when longing for Artie and Regina filled his heart?
Artie had been so tiny. Nick had rocked him, talked to him, sang to him, bathed and dressed him and carried him around when he cried. Occasionally, he gave him a bottle, but he hadn’t been fully responsible for his son’s care, and he never worried about what to do because if he had a question, Regina was there to answer it.
A fourteen-month-old baby girl would be another matter. She needed a mother who would shower her with love. The thought worried him until he shrugged it away. There was no reason to worry until he knew without any doubt that this little child was his.
And if Hattie was his child—how much would that bring Talia into his life?
