“Everything’s fine, Connor. I fired Garrett. Can you escort him off the property?”
Curiosity fills the air, but Connor doesn’t press the issue. He spins on his heel to presumably follow instructions from his boss.
“Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re really doing here, sweetheart? Because I doubt a wrong turn took you down my two-mile drive. Most folks course correct at the gravel turnout a hundred yards down the road.”
Shit.I recall the wide patch of rocks he’s talking about, because Ididconsider making a U-turn and coming up with a different plan for keeping custody of Jesse.
My tensed shoulders slouch at being caught in a lie, and only years of rallying my courage prompts me to speak the truth.
“My name is Davie Overland. My sister is Jessica Overland.” No recognition on his face at the name. “Last May, a man met a woman at a bar for a one-night stand; that was my sister. I’m here today because she thinks that man might be the biological father of her eight-month-old son. I’ve come to ask him to take a paternity test. It’s technically court-mandated, but since we didn’t know his last name or address…”
“How’d that lead you here to my ranch?” The question should come off as accusatory, but surprisingly, his tone remains even. Like he’s processing the news that he or someone he employs might be a dad before jumping to a swift denial.
Thank god.
After witnessing his fury with Garrett, it wouldn’t have shocked me to have his ire turned on me.
“I asked around Main Street. All Jessica remembered was the name Mac and High Ridge. Someone at the hardware storethought a guy named Cormac might go by Mac,” I explain, wringing my sweaty hands together. “This is the Rocking M Ranch, right?”
“It is, and I’m Cormac Madsen, the owner.”
Double shit.
It’s him.
The man who punches his employees, or recently fired ones, might be Jesse’s dad.
He motions to the house. “Let’s go inside and sort this out. I don’t need the whole ranch listening to my business.”
“Uh… Of course.” I don’t blame him for wanting to keep this private, but I’m not thrilled about being alone with him in his house.
You’ll be fine. We’re surrounded by ranch workers, and Linnea knows where you’re at.
If Cormac could be trusted, he had a legitimate reason for flying off the handle. I’d be pissed, too, if someone hurt an animal, but that doesn’t negate the fact that his first choice was to punch a man.
Thankfully, Mom’s revolving door of loser boyfriends never included the violent type, but I’m still wary. Neither Mom nor Jessica have great track records with men.
Even if Cormac barely qualifies as one of Jessica’s men, I can’t imagine he varies much from her usual type—untrustworthy and skeevy.
Okay, so Cormac doesn’t seem skeevy.
Honestly, if my first impression wasn’t of him beating up a man, I’d probably find him attractive with his silver-flecked hair and beard. Those piercing brown eyes narrowed with lines of maturity at the edges.
Too bad his temper concerns me.
Oh, yeah… and he fucked my sister.
6
CORMAC
Today is turning into one hell of a shit show.
First, Garrett’s reckless behavior, and now,this. I might be a fucking dad. To a baby born to a woman I have no memory of.
I'd be the first to admit that I'm not exactly a monk. I have sex often enough, but for the life of me, I don't recall Jessica.
However, it doesn't surprise me that if we fucked in October, I don't remember her. It was probably during one of my drunk evenings at the bar on the weekend of the anniversary of my dad's death.
