A Baby at My Cowboy Ex's Ranch Gate

"Did she look like my father?" Mason asked, his voice hollow.

I glanced toward the clinic doors. "I saw Lily for ten minutes three months ago. I am not comparing a frightened pregnant patient to Raymond Hale from memory."

Mason kept the evidence bag with the silver horse charm in his hand. "He kept things quiet. If he had another life, I need to know."

"Then let Deputy Miller investigate it. You do not get to turn a patient's face into a family tree because the resemblance would make your questions easier."

His jaw tightened, but he nodded. "You're right."

That simple answer unsettled me more than an argument would have.

"Go home," I told him. "I have a shift. Sadie needs sleep, and Cole needs to learn that a microwave is not a bottle warmer."

At one in the morning, I pushed through the clinic's rear exit and stopped beneath the security light.

Mason leaned against the rusted quarter panel of his pickup. He wore the same denim jacket from earlier, and a fresh red mark crossed the inside of his wrist.

I pointed at it. "What happened?"

"Cole microwaved the formula. I tested it before he gave it to her."

Anger cut through my exhaustion. "Where is Sadie?"

"Home. Asleep. Sarah from the county backup list is sitting with her while I came here. Cole is banned from the kitchen until morning."

I exhaled. At least he had not left the baby with someone who had just turned her bottle into a burn hazard.

"You could have called the front desk."

"I could have." He opened the passenger door. "Your battery would not turn over. Gary at security has your keys and a charger on it. I would rather drive you home than let you fall asleep behind the wheel."

I stayed where I was. "A ride to the ranch does not mean I am moving into your guest room."

"Understood."

"And it does not mean you manage my transportation from now on."

"Also understood."

I climbed in because refusing a safe ride just to prove I had choices would have been its own kind of stupidity.

The dashboard cast a muted green glow over the cab. For the first five miles, Mason said nothing. He did not turn on the radio. He did not fill the silence with questions about Lily.

Finally, I looked at his burned wrist. "Run it under cool water again when we get back. No ice."

"Yes, nurse."

"Do not make that sound flirtatious."

One corner of his mouth moved. "I wasn't aware I knew how."

The road narrowed between dark pasture fences. I rested my head against the seat and closed my eyes for one second.

"Cole told me you two were serious," Mason said.

My eyes opened. "That is not a conversation I want at one in the morning."

"Fair."

Another mile passed.

"He also told me he left because you wanted Dallas," Mason added.

I turned toward him. "Then he lied to you, too."

Mason's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"I withdrew the fellowship application because he told me he was done running," I said. "Three days later, he left for a rodeo contract without asking what I had changed for him."

Mason swore under his breath.

"Do not be angry on my behalf. I already did that work."

"I'm angry because he made you pay for a decision he did not even know you made."

"Same difference."

"No." Mason glanced at me, then back at the road. "Being angry is not the same as deciding what you should do next."

I went quiet.

That distinction should not have mattered. It did.

When we reached the ranch, the kitchen light was still on. Cole sat at the island with a bottle warmer instruction booklet open in front of him like an enemy document. A county-approved sitter occupied the living room armchair beside Sadie's bassinet.

Cole looked up. "There she is. Tell my brother I am not trying to kill the baby."

"You heated formula in a microwave."

"Once."

"Once is enough. Hot spots can burn her mouth even if the bottle feels fine from the outside." I took the booklet, opened it to the temperature section, and shoved it back toward him. "Read every line."

Cole's expression sobered. "I will."

Mason went to the sink and ran cool water over his wrist. He did it without being reminded a second time.

A soft cry came from the bassinet. The sitter stood, but Mason raised a hand.

"I have her."

He lifted Sadie carefully. She fussed against his shoulder, then caught a fistful of his jacket and settled.

The sight pulled something tight inside me, and I immediately distrusted the feeling.

"The county scheduled cheek swabs for eight tomorrow morning," Mason said. "Both of us."

Cole shut the booklet. "Fastest way to stop guessing."

"Good," I said. "Then you wait for actual results before either of you decides what this baby means."

Cole looked at Sadie, then at me. "And if she is mine?"

"Then you become responsible for your daughter."

"That wasn't the whole question."

I knew exactly what he was asking. "My relationship with you ended two years ago. A DNA report cannot resurrect it."

His face tightened.

Mason shifted Sadie higher on his shoulder. "Cole, leave it."

"No." Cole stood. The old stubborn heat returned to his eyes. "If that test says Sadie is mine, I am not pretending it changes nothing. I will raise her. I will stay on this ranch. And I will prove to Harper I am not the man who left."

I grabbed my purse from the counter. "You can prove whatever you want. You cannot appoint me as the reward."

Cole held my stare.

"Fine," he said. "Then when the results come back, I will ask you instead of deciding for you."

Mason went perfectly still behind him.

Cole looked from his brother to me and added, "And if Sadie is mine, I am asking Harper for a second chance."