Ford nods once, fingers tightening around the brim of his hat. “Yeah, darlin’. I’m glad. I’m mad, too. Mad I wasn’t there, but I’m grateful you found me so I could make it up to him—and to you.”
Tears make a lump in my throat as I nod. “He won’t remember.”
“But you will,” he says softly. “I should have tried harder. Both times. You never should have been the one to find me. I was the one who needed to chaseyou. Not the other way around. And I’ll feel guilty about that until the day I die.”
My mouth goes dry, tears burning the corners of my eyes. I don’t know what to say, no words strong enough to explain how I feel. I’m not even sure Idoknow how I feel. All my emotions are a mess, coursing through me like a storm just waiting to hit.
Instead of responding, I get out of the car, and he follows me a moment later, cowboy hat on, hands curled into fists.
We walk in silence up to the second floor where my apartment sits. The entire building is quiet, like the residents and the structure itself are holding their breaths, waiting for Ford’s reaction to his son.
I knock twice to let Winnie know I’m here, and unlock the front door. The apartment itself is clean—probably cleaner than when I left it, which makes me sigh in relief, thankful for my sister’s new in-law.
The front of the apartment is a combined living, dining, and kitchen area, which is sparsely decorated and furnished because of the sudden move. But Christopher’s playpen is set up in the centre, full of toys that look untouched. The two bedrooms andsingle bathroom are in the back, which is where Winnie appears from.
My friend smiles when she sees me, and grins when she spots Ford. “Howdy.”
Ford offers her a half smile as he nods, tipping his head. “You must be Winnie.”
“That I am,” she says, moving towards us. “Uh, Chris should be due for a feed soon. He’s been napping the last hour, which gave me a chance to clean.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, sighing. “This is Ford, by the way.”
Winnie cocks a brow. “The Vegas husband?”
“And Christopher’s father,” Ford adds, clearing his throat. “He’s my son.”
My friend’s eyes widen in shock. “Oh.” Then she looks between us, lips parting. “Wow.”
I nod. “Yep. What are the chances?”
Winnie looks at me like she’s wondering whether she should answer, but a small cry comes from the baby monitor on the kitchen counter.
Relief shudders through me as I drop my bag by the door. “Let me get him,” I say to Ford, who stares in the direction of the bedroom. “Wait here.”
He doesn’t do anything but swallow. Leaving him with Winnie, I rush into the nursery. It’s the only space I’ve taken time to set up.
Christopher garbles and grins when I appear. Relief hits me hard at seeing him. “Two nights is too long,” I whisper, picking him up out of the crib. “There’s someone here to meet you.”
My boy makes another noise as I set him on the changing table, pull him out of his sleep sack and check his diaper. I smooth down his mussed hair as I set him on my hip and leave the nursery.
Still standing by the door, Ford releases a long, slow breath as he takes Christopher in. Tears brim his eyes, and they fall as soon as Christopher locks eyes on him.
“He’s beautiful,” Ford says, clearing his throat.
I move towards him, bouncing Christopher as I do. “He’s going to be a little grumpy from just waking up, but do you want to hold him?”
Ford tracks us, locked entirely on Christopher, and it’s only when we’re a few feet from him that he sucks in a breath. “Can I?”
I nod, heart skipping. “Yeah, of course. He’s your son.”
Ford takes a hesitant step towards us. “I don’t really know what?—”
“Sit on the sofa and I’ll put him in your lap,” I offer.
The cowboy does exactly that, sitting almost excitedly and staring up at us with hope and love shining in his eyes. Behind me, I hear the door open and close as Winnie slips out, leaving us in the apartment alone.
Christopher clings to me for a moment before I set him down with Ford, but it’s instant, the moment he realises the man holding him is something more.
