Cowboy Daddy (3 page)

“Yep. The mother of the boys.”

Mary's fingers fluttered over her heart, her eyes wide in a suddenly pale face. “What did she want?”

Kip wrapped his rough hands around his mother's cold
ones. “She claims she has a will granting her custody of Justin and Tristan.”

“But the boys' mother…Tricia…” Mary squeezed her son's hands. “Where is she?”

“She's dead.” The words sounded harsh, even though he'd never met the woman. But she had been the mother of his nephews.

The nephews that Nicole claimed didn't belong to Kip's family. Kip's heart turned over in his chest.

There was no way he was telling his mother that piece of information. He didn't believe that fact for one minute anyhow. Scott had loved those boys. Doted on them.

Since Scott died, Kip had fought to keep this family together, but lately he felt as if everything he worked so hard for was slipping out of his fingers.

There was no way he was letting Nicole take his mother's only connection to Scott away. No way.

“I
found them. I found the boys.” Nicole tucked the phone under her chin as she sorted through her clothes. The motel room held a small dresser and minuscule closet she could hang some clothes in. She had packed a variety of clothes, unsure what she would need.

She closed the closet door and glanced around the room. It was the best, supposedly, in Millarville, and she guessed it would do. She hoped she wouldn't have to stay here long. Staying here resurrected memories she had relegated to the “before” part of her life.

Before the Williams family took her in.

“Are they okay? How do they look?” Her father sounded a bit better, as if the news sparked new life in him.

“They're fine.” Nicole thought of Justin and Tristan, and her heart contracted.

She knew the Cosgroves wouldn't simply hand over the boys to her as soon as she had arrived. From what she had discovered, the boys had been at the ranch since Scott took them away.

Kip's family was the only one the children knew. A family, she discovered, which included Kip's mother, a younger sister and a married sister with six children.

Nicole couldn't stop a nudge of jealousy at the thought of Kip's large family, then quashed it. She'd had a full life with the Williams, and she owed her adoptive parents more than she could ever repay. That Brent's natural daughter was the one gone only increased her guilt.

“Is the family treating them okay? Do they seem to have a stable home life?”

“The farmhouse is a bit of a wreck,” Nicole said, thinking of the worn flooring, and the faded paint. “It looks as if no money had been spent on the house in a while.”

Yet in spite of the mess, when she walked into the spacious kitchen of the Cosgrove house, she felt enveloped by a sense of home. Of comfort and peace.

Something she seldom experienced in her father's cavernous house.

“They're well taken care of.” She tucked the phone under her ear, pulled her laptop out of the bag and plugged it in. Thankfully, she would be able to do much of her work for the family's foundation while she was here.

“You sound like you think they should stay.” Her father's voice held an accusatory tone.

“No. I don't,” Nicole assured him. “But we can't simply remove them immediately.” She knew she sounded practical, however, her feelings were anything but.

When she saw the boys, a feeling of love, almost devastating in its intensity, bowled her over. She wanted to grab them, hold them close, then run away with them. She couldn't understand or explain the unexpected power of these feelings. The only time she'd experienced this before was when she saw her little sister, Tricia, for the first time.

“It was what your sister wanted,” her father said, a hard note entering his voice.

“I know. It's what I want as well, but we have to proceed
carefully. The boys don't remember their mother and they most certainly don't know who I am.” She highly doubted Kip would tell them in the next few days.

“I should be there,” her father said, his voice harsh. “I should be meeting with that lawyer.” This was followed by a bout of coughing that belied his insistence.

“You know yourself that once lawyers get hold of things, the process grinds to a halt.” She ignored a sliver of panic at the thought. When she arranged to come here, she had given herself three weeks to bring the boys back. Sure, she could work here, but she also needed to spend time with the boys so the transition from here to Toronto wouldn't be so difficult.

“Who do the boys look like?” Brent asked, a thread of hope in his voice.

“They look exactly like Tricia.” Nicole pressed her fingers to her lips, restraining her sorrow.

“You have to bring my boys back, Nicole. They are all I have left of Tricia. Those boys don't belong there. They're not even blood relatives.”

Nicole knew her father spoke out of sorrow, but his words struck at the foundations of Nicole's insecurities. Tricia was Sam and Norah's natural daughter.

Nicole was simply the adopted one.

“Tomorrow I'll see Mr. Cosgrove's lawyer,” Nicole said, opening her laptop and turning it on. “We'll have to take this one step at a time.”

“When you talk to that lawyer you make sure to let him know that James Feschuk is working for us. His reputation might get things moving a bit. I also want a DNA test. If they don't believe us, then we'll get positive proof that Scott Cosgrove was not the boys' father.”

“How will that happen?” Nicole asked.

“James told me that you can get DNA tests done locally.
He suggested one called a grandparent's test. Get that grandmother to get tested and we'll find out. I'll get tested too. Then we've got some teeth to our argument.” His voice rose and Sam started coughing again.

“I'm saying goodbye,” Nicole said. “And you should go to bed. Make sure you take your medication and use that puffer the doctor gave you.”

“Yes, yes,” Sam said. “I'll get James to phone that lawyer. Tell him we insist on a DNA test. Give me his name and I can take care of it.”

Nicole pulled out her cell phone and called up the name and number and gave that information to her father. “I'll let you know the minute I hear anything.”

Nicole said goodbye. She turned back to her computer, but only sat and stared sightlessly at the screen, her work suddenly forgotten as she thought of Justin and Tristan. Tricia's boys.

Seeing them had been heartwarming and heartrending at the same time.

Again she felt the sting of her sister's betrayal when Tricia had left without a word those many years ago. Nicole had hoped and prayed for an opportunity to talk to her face-to-face, to apologize. But the only letter in the envelope was one to her parents pleading for forgiveness. Nothing for her.

Nicole glanced around the room as memories of other evenings in other motel rooms crowded in.

Nicole tried to push the memories away, but the emotions of the past day had made her vulnerable and her mind slipped back to a vivid picture of herself, sitting on a bed in a motel room, a little girl of five, waiting while her aunt smoked and strode back and forth, watching through the window.

When Nicole's natural mother died, her father, a long-
distance trucker, put Nicole into the care of his sister, a bitter, verbally abusive woman.

Whenever he came into town, Nicole's aunt would bring her to a motel where they would meet her father. She would stay with him for a couple of days and then he would be gone.

That evening they waited until the next morning, but he never came. His truck had spun out of control and he had died in the subsequent accident.

After six months, her aunt had her moved to an already-full foster home.

Four years later, she was adopted by the Williams family at age eight, and her life went from the instability of seven foster homes in four years to the stability of a wealthy family. She was told enough times how blessed she was, and she knew it.

Yet each night as she crawled into her bed, she would wonder when it would all get taken away. People had always left her. It would happen again.

Then something magical and miraculous happened to her and the Williams family. Norah, who was never supposed to be able to conceive, became pregnant. When Tricia was born, Nicole bonded with this little baby in a way she couldn't seem to with Norah and Sam. Tricia became as much Nicole's child as her parents'.

Nicole took care of her with a fierce intensity. She stood up for her in school, listened to her stories of heartbreak and sorrow. Defended her to Sam and Norah whenever Tricia got into yet another scrape. She was Tricia's confidant.

Then Tricia turned thirteen. She withdrew. Became sullen and ungrateful. She started hanging around with the wrong crowd and staying out late. Nicole had tried to reason with her, to explain that she was throwing her life away.

But Tricia kept up her self-destructive lifestyle. Finally, in frustration, Nicole fought with her.

Then Tricia, too, left and never came back.

Nicole got up, grabbed her purse and walked out of the motel. She walked down the street, then up it again. She let the cooling mountain air soothe away the memories. She bought a sandwich, returned to her motel room and dove into her work. A few hours later she took a shower and crawled, exhausted, into bed. She needed all the rest could she get.

Tomorrow she would be seeing Kip Cosgrove again.

Tomorrow she would have other battles to fight.

 

“So she has some legitimacy?” Kip leaned his elbows on his knees, then frowned at the grass stain he saw on his blue jeans. He should have checked before he put the pants on. Of course he was in a hurry when he left the ranch. Of course he had to go through a mini battle to get Isabelle to agree to take care of her nephews while he was gone.

“As an aunt to the boys, she has as much right as you do,” Ron Benton, his lawyer, said, leaning his elbows on the desk. “As for her claim about Scott not being the father, unfortunately it's a matter of her word against yours now that both the principals in this case are dead. We'll need more information.”

“Tricia abandoned the boys, Ron. She left them with Scott. She was gone for three years.”

“Well, now we know she was dead for three years.”

Kip blew out a sigh of frustration at that irrefutable truth. When Nicole had told him that, he felt as if his world had been realigned. Ever since Scott showed up at the farm with the two boys, Kip had burned with a righteous indignation that a woman could leave these boys all alone. An indignation that grew with each year of no communication.

Now he found out she'd been dead and possibly didn't know where Scott was.

If what Nicole said was true.

“The trouble is we don't have a legal document that grants custody to you,” Ron said. “And it sounds like this Nicole might have one that gives it to her. Though you've been the primary caregiver—and any court would look at that as well—the reality is you don't have legal backup for your case. As well, we don't know why Tricia left.”

“I know what Scott told me.”

Ron blew his breath out, tapping his fingers against the sleeve of his suit jacket. “She and Scott got along? He never did anything to her?”

“Of course not.” Kip barked his reply, then forced himself to settle down. Ever since Nicole had walked into their lives, he'd been edgy and distracted.

He had too much responsibility. The words dropped into his mind with the weight of rocks.

How could he think that? He loved his nephews dearly. He wasn't going to let Nicole take them away. Especially not after promising his dying brother that he would take care of them. There was no way he was backing out on that. Not after what had happened to Scott.

Guilt over his brother's death stabbed him again. If only he hadn't let him get on that horse. The horse was too green, he had told him, but Scott was insistent. Kip should have held his ground.

Should have. He shoved his hand through his hair. The words would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Trouble is, we don't have a lot to go on,” Ron continued. “Your main weapon is the primary-caregiver option. You've been taking care of Justin and Tristan. That's what we'll have to go with if this gets to court.”

“Court? Would it get that far?”

Ron lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “I'll have to do some digging to see if I can avoid that, but no promises.”

No time. No time.

The words bounced around Kip's mind, mocking him. He didn't have time to fight this woman.

“Whatever happens, I'm not letting some high and mighty Easterner come and take the boys simply because she has some piece of paper and I don't,” Kip said as the door to the office opened.

He stopped mid rant and turned in his chair in time to see Nicole standing in the doorway, the overhead lights of the office glinting off her long, blond hair and turning her gray-green eyes into chips of ice.

N
icole glared at Kip Cosgrove, wondering if he could read the anger in her eyes. She doubted it. He sat back in the chair, looking as if he was completely in charge of the situation and his world.

I've got a legal will, she reminded herself.

The boys are Tricia's.

“Good morning,” she said, projecting pleasant briskness into her voice. She'd dressed with care this morning. Her tailored suit was her defense in the boardroom of her father's foundation and it became her armor now.

Her gaze ticked over Kip and moved to the man sitting on the other side of the desk. He certainly didn't look like any lawyer she had ever met with his open-necked twill shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots. She was definitely not in Toronto anymore. “My name is Nicole Williams, but I'm sure you already know that.”

“Ron Benton.” He stood, gave her a slow-release grin and shook her hand. At least he looked friendly, which was more than she could saw for Kip Cosgrove with his deep scowl.

Ron sat back in his chair, his arms crossed over his
chest. “I understand we have a problem that we need to resolve.”

Nicole shrugged as she set her briefcase on the floor beside her chair. “No problem as far as I can see. I have a will from Tricia Williams giving her parents, Sam and Norah Williams, full custody of the boys, Justin and Tristan Williams. Norah Williams has passed away, but Sam is very much alive.” Nicole took out a copy of the will and placed it on the wooden desk in front of Ron. “You can keep that for your records.”

Ron glanced over the papers. “This will hasn't been filed with any legal firm, or put together with the help of a lawyer?”

Nicole shook her head. “No, but it is witnessed and dated.”

“By whom?” Ron kept his eyes on the papers, flipping through them as he frowned.

“I don't know the woman. Apparently it was someone that Tricia lived with.”

Ron's slow nod combined with his laissez-faire attitude grated on Nicole, but she kept her temper in check. She had to stay in control.

Then Ron sat back in his chair, his hands laced behind his head. “We could easily contest the legality of this will.”

Now it was Nicole's turn to frown. “What do you mean?”

“How do we know this is Tricia William's signature? And who was this friend? Anyone could have put this together.”

Kip leaned forward and she couldn't help glancing his way, catching a gleam in his eye.

“So you're saying this isn't as cut-and-dried as some people think?” Kip asked.

Hard not to miss the pleasure in his voice. Nicole fought back her concern. She had too much riding on this situation. Sam was expecting her to bring these boys back. It was what she had to do.

“Unfortunately, no.”

“So that makes things a bit easier,” Kip said with an obvious note of relief in his voice.

“We have our own lawyer working on this case,” Nicole added, just in case Kip thought she was simply rolling over. “We have copies of Tricia's handwriting and photographs of the boys.”

“Birth certificates?” Ron asked, his chair creaking as he leaned forward, glancing over the will again.

Nicole had to say no. “Again, that's something our lawyer, James Feschuk is working on.” Dropping James's name, however, got no reaction.

“So things are still in limbo?” Kip asked. He tapped a booted foot on the carpet, as if he couldn't wait to get out of there. Nicole wasn't surprised.

He looked as if he was far more at home on the back of a horse than sitting in an office.

Which made her wonder why he wouldn't let the boys on the horses. He seemed so unreasonably angry with her when she took them to the horse corrals.

And why did she care? The boys were leaving this life as soon as possible.

Ron tapped his fingers on the desk, shaking his head as if to negate everything Nicole had said. “I'm sorry, but I don't think anything can happen until we get all our questions answered.”

“Great.” Kip got to his feet. “Then we'll wait.”

“Not so fast, Kip,” Ron continued. “The other reality is we can't completely negate Ms. Williams's claim on these boys. She does have some rights for now.”

Nicole's frustration eased off. She had been ready to do battle with this small-town lawyer.

Kip had already grabbed his denim jacket but clutched it now, his grey eyes staying on Ron, ignoring Nicole. “What rights?”

“Visitation, for one,” Ron said.

Kip blew out a sigh and shoved his hands through his hair as he glared at his own lawyer. “How will that work?”

Time to take control. “I would like to visit the boys every day,” Nicole said.

Kip finally turned his attention to her. “Every day? For how long?”

“I think that's something we can settle here and now,” Nicole said. “I was thinking I could come and pick up the boys and take them for a visit either morning or afternoon. Whichever is convenient.”

Kip made a show of looking at his watch, as if he was the only one in this room with a schedule to keep. Then he sat down and leaned back in his chair. “Okay, I'm thinking something else. I'm thinking you can see the boys every day, but the visits have to happen on the ranch and under my supervision.”

Nicole frowned at that. “Why?”

Kip held her gaze, his frown and piercing gaze giving him a slightly menacing air. “I only have your word that you are who you are, and until Ron is satisfied, I'm not letting Justin and Tristan out of my sight.”

His antagonism was like a wave and for the briefest moment, fear flashed through Nicole. He reminded her of a wolf, defending its pups.

Then she pushed her fear down.

“And how would these visits be apportioned?”

“I'm guessing you mean how much time and when?”

“Precisely.”

Kip raised an eyebrow and Nicole knew she was putting on her “office” voice. She couldn't help it. She felt as if she needed the defense.

“You come from 2:30 until 5:00 every afternoon. That's what works best for me.”

She bit back her anger. Two and a half hours? Was that what he considered a visit?

“Take it or leave it,” he added.

She didn't have much choice. Right now she may hold a legal will, but until it was proven legitimate, he had the right of possession—if that was the correct way to term guardianship of the boys.

“Those terms are…fine with me,” she said, trying to sound reasonable. She wasn't fighting him over this. Not yet. In the end, she knew she would be proven right, but in the meantime the boys were in his care and on his ranch and she could do nothing about that.

“So we should draw something up,” Ron said, pulling out a pen. “Just in case there are any repercussions.”

Fifteen minutes later, papers were printed up and signed and everyone given a copy.

Kip folded his over and shoved them in the back pocket of his jeans. She put hers in her briefcase.

“There is one more thing,” Nicole said quietly. “My father insists that we do a DNA test.”

“What?” The word fairly exploded out of Kip's mouth. “What do you think this is?
CSI Alberta?
”

“It's not that complex. There is a test that can be ordered, and I've checked into the locations of the clinics where they can be brought. We would require your mother to take a test and my father, given that the parents of the boys are dead.”

“Is this legal?” Kip asked his lawyer.

Ron leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against his chin. “Might not be a bad idea. It could bolster your case, Kip.”

More likely ours, Nicole thought.

Kip narrowed his eyes as he looked at Nicole, as if he didn't trust her. “Okay. If you think it will help, Ron, I'll get Mom to do it.”

“I'll find out more about it and let you know what has to happen,” Ron said.

“So that's settled.” Kip shrugged his jacket on and gave Nicole the briefest of nods. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Nicole gave him a crisp smile. “Actually, I'd like to come now.”

Kip faltered, his frown deepening. “As in today?”

“As in, I have just been granted visitation from 2:30 to 5:00 every afternoon.” Nicole gave him a cool look as she too got to her feet. She didn't like him towering over her, but even in her heels, she only reached his shoulder.

“I thought we'd start tomorrow.”

“I have every right to start today.” She had signed a paper giving her those rights. He had no reason to deny her.

Kip blew out a sigh as he dropped a tattered cowboy hat on his head. “I don't have time today.”

Nicole lifted her shoulder in a delicate shrug. “You're the one who set out the terms of the visits.”

Kip held her gaze, his eyes shadowed by the brim of the cowboy hat. Then he glanced down at her tailored suit and laughed. “Okay, but you'd better change. The boys are helping me fix a tractor this afternoon.”

“Should I bring a hammer?” she said, determined not to let him goad her.

“Just a three-eighth-inch wrench and a five-sixteenth-inch socket,” he returned.

“Excellent. I just happened to bring mine along.”

“In your Louis Vuitton luggage?” This was tossed back at her underlined with the arching of one of his eyebrows.

“No. Coach.” And how would a cowboy like him know about Louis Vuitton?

“Cute.” He buttoned his jacket. “This has been fun, but I've got work to do,” he said in a tone that implied “fun” was the last thing he'd been having. “See you when we see you.”

When he closed the door behind him, it was as if the office deflated. Became less full, less dynamic.

Nicole brushed the feeling off and turned to Ron. “I'll get my lawyer to call you. He'll bring you up to speed on his side of the case, and the two of you can discuss the DNA tests.”

Ron got to his feet and pursed his lips. Then he sighed. “I'm not speaking as a lawyer anymore, but as a friend of Kip's. You may as well know that Kip Cosgrove dotes on those boys. He goes everywhere with them. Does everything with them. He has since those boys moved to the ranch with his brother.”

“They're not even his.” As soon as Nicole spoke the words she regretted giving her thoughts voice. She knew how coldhearted that must have sounded to Ron.

The reality was she knew firsthand what it was like to be the one pushed aside. She had been in enough homes as the “outsider,” the nonbiological child, to know that no matter what, biology always won out. The “natural” children were always treated differently than the “foster” child.

Ron shot her an angry look. “That is the last thing on Kip's mind,” he snapped. “Those boys have been in his life since they were one year old. Living on the ranch is the only life they know.”

Nicole held his angry gaze, determined not to let his opinion of her matter. “They only know this life because Scott took them away from their biological mother.” She picked up her briefcase and slung her trench coat over her arm. “Now all I need to know is where I can buy some tools.”

This netted her a puzzled look from Ron. “Why?”

“Because I fully intend on helping fix that tractor.”