The Texan's Surprise Son. Cathy McdavidЧитать онлайн книгу.
“Not sure, she didn’t say. Visitation. Custody maybe.”
“And you’re not sure how you feel about that,” Luke stated.
“I can barely handle work and rodeoing. How am I supposed to take care of a two-year-old? Even part-time. I don’t know the first thing.”
“No parent does in the beginning. But we learn.”
“You’re a natural father.”
“And you’re worried about the sacrifices you’ll have to make.”
Jacob squeezed his eyes shut, feeling completely out of control and at the mercy of the fates.
“I’ve worked so hard for years to get ahead. Finally, I have a chance at a championship title and a promotion. Now this.” He stopped abruptly. “I sound like a selfish bastard.”
“There isn’t a parent alive who doesn’t wonder about the impact children will have on their future.”
“What if I’m not cut out to be a dad? It’s not like I’ve had the best examples.”
“The better question might be what if you are?”
Though Jacob admired his friend greatly, he couldn’t conceive of sacrificing everything he’d worked so hard for.
“What if I just offered financial support? At least until after Finals? That’s only six weeks away.”
Luke didn’t hide his disappointment. “Now you sound just like Brock.”
Nothing his friend said or did could have made a bigger impact on Jacob. He did sound like Brock and his biological father.
Disgust filled him. “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“It does.” Luke leaned an elbow on the stall door, his gaze direct. “You aren’t like either Brock or your father. At least, you don’t have to be.”
Cody’s photo, tucked in his wallet, burned a hole in Jacob’s back pocket. The boy deserved a better father than he’d had. The best Jacob could be.
“I always swore if I ever had children, I’d do right by them.”
Luke grinned. “Here’s your chance.”
“I’m still waiting for the DNA results.”
“That’s wise.”
The hour ride on Zeus helped to further clear Jacob’s head and give him purpose. After returning the gelding to its stall, he started for his truck. At the door, he paused and took out his cell phone. Mariana had given him her number yesterday. He dialed it now.
“This is Jacob,” he said when she answered. “I want to meet Cody. Tomorrow.”
* * *
“WE’RE HERE,” Mariana announced in a singsong voice as they neared Jacob’s house.
She’d been driving down the street at ten miles an hour, peering at address numbers posted above garage doors or on wrought iron gates. It was a nice, middle-class neighborhood. Most of the attractive homes were on large lots with drought-resistant natural landscaping.
“Daddy, Daddy!” Cody expressed his delight by tossing his stuffed pony in the air. It hit the back of Mariana’s seat and bounced off. “Wanna see Daddy.”
“We will.” She maneuvered the SUV into the driveway and parked. The vehicle belonged to her mother. Much more appropriate for transporting a toddler than her Infiniti. “Cool your jets.”
“Jets!” Cody kicked his sneakered feet wildly, and they banged into the console dividing the front seats.
“Okay, Cody. That’s enough.” She kept her voice level but firm.
Her nephew stopped. For an entire three seconds. “Wanna see Daddy,” he repeated and resumed kicking.
She’d thought it best to wait for the test results to come in before telling Cody he had a father. Somehow, he’d gleaned enough while listening to Mariana and her mother talking about Jacob to realize he had one of those magical, mystical beings: a father.
Served her right for having a supersmart nephew. Or, possibly, daddies were spoken of frequently at day care. He’d surely seen them picking up his playmates. That would explain his fascination. Wanting his and Jacob’s initial meeting to go well, Mariana had infused brightness into her voice when she talked about Jacob. As a result, Cody’s excitement soared.
Jacob had phoned her yesterday and insisted on meeting Cody, to Mariana’s surprise. She’d tried to convince him to wait, without success. He’d been adamant, and she didn’t want to give him a reason to bring in his attorneys or, worse, flee.
Errant fathers weren’t her specialty at the law firm where she worked. She did, however, have some experience with them. Her mother had spent years chasing down Mariana and Leah’s father, who never stayed in one place longer than a few months. When her mother did find him, there was a guaranteed battle over past due child support.
Mariana was twenty-nine years old, and her mother had yet to receive all the money owed her. The SOB didn’t even have the decency to show up at Leah’s memorial service.
She could understand her sister’s not wanting a man like that to be a part of her son’s life. But Jacob Baron wasn’t cut from the same cloth. Mariana knew; she’d done her homework on him and his family. He could, and hopefully would, do right by Cody.
Leah had also done her homework before selecting Jacob. Still, despite his many worthy attributes, she’d insisted on raising her son alone, even after the cancer returned and progressed at a terrifying rate.
Mariana stared at the pickup truck in the driveway, uncertainty gnawing away at her. If only he wasn’t a rodeo man like her father, she’d feel a whole lot better. At least he had a good, steady job and belonged to a family with deep roots in the Dallas area. That compensated for some of his less desirable cowboy traits.
Her cell phone rang just as she turned off the ignition.
“Yes, Helena,” she said after her secretary identified herself.
“Sorry to bother you this late, but I thought you’d want to know now rather than in the morning.”
Mariana braced herself. “What is it?”
“Paulo Molinas’s attorney has filed a motion to suppress Medallion Investments’ phone records.”
“Dammit,” she muttered, then glanced over her shoulder. Had Cody heard her curse? She didn’t think so. “All right. Pull the former case files we talked about and leave them on my desk for the morning.”
“Will do.”
They discussed a few more details before ending the call. Mariana tried to focus on Cody and his introduction to Jacob. It took all her effort. Her firm’s joint lawsuits had gained momentum in recent weeks. Ten-hour days made caring for Cody challenging. She was lucky to have gotten off early.
That wasn’t the reason she wanted Jacob to have shared custody of Cody, she told herself for the hundredth time. Her workload and demanding schedule had nothing to do with it.
Opening the rear passenger side door, she bent over Cody and unbuckled him from the car seat.
“Daddy, Daddy! Where Daddy?”
She winced at the loud voice inches from her ear. “Shhh. We’ll see him in a minute.”
“I firsty.”
“We’ll get you a drink inside.”
This constant speaking in the plural amazed her. She couldn’t recall thinking about it, only doing it. Was that normal? Did every mother, or aunt or guardian, naturally fall into the habit?
Lifting