The Cowgirl's Little Secret(10)

"You're thinking too hard, sunshine."

Sunshine. Her tummy did a cartwheel and she sank down on the nearest bar stool. "You haven't called me that in...forever."

"I haven't talked to you in forever. Not really. You never stuck around my hospital room long enough."

He'd reached out to her as he'd lain racked with pain in that bed, and while part of her turned all warm and fuzzy with the memory, the hurt and heartbroken girl she'd buried all those years ago wouldn't let go of her anger.

"You're still thinking too hard." Cord's voice was thick and husky with emotion, and for the first time, she wondered if their breakup had hurt him, too. That was a place she wasn't ready to explore.

"I know. I have a lot to think about."

An uncomfortable silence reared its head again, and the tension made Jolie fidget. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but wasn't sure she wanted the answers.

"I should let you go. Tell CJ I love him and sweet dreams when you put him to bed tonight. And...tell him I'll ask you another time about spending the weekend with me." Breath hissed softly from between her lips and Cord inhaled. The moment was as intimate as a kiss. "G'night, sunshine."

The broken connection hummed in her ear before she could respond. Jolie dashed at her eyes, irritated that tears threatened to spill over and drown her cheeks. If she ever succumbed to tears, she'd never stop.

* * *

Cord put down the phone and pushed himself up on the bed. God, but she still turned him on. Just her voice had the ability to twist him into a hot mess of nerves and made him want things he'd walked away from, and probably couldn't have again. Like her. In his bed. In his life. But the yearning just made him more resolute. He would make them a family.

He swung his legs over and steadied himself on the edge of the mattress. Today with CJ had been a breath of fresh air, but he'd overdone things physically. Eyeing the wheelchair with something akin to hatred, he braced one hand on the sturdy wooden footboard of his bed and eased into a standing position.

So far, so good. He had fifteen steps to the bathroom. Three of those were close to the footboard. After that, he was on his own in uncharted territory. He hadn't taken a step since the accident without a physical therapist and safety equipment holding him. He hadn't even tried a walker yet, but talking to Jolie, listening to her breathe into the phone did more than just make him aware of how sexy she was. It made him want to get well, to be the man who had once took her to bed and left her panting and moaning his name against his shoulder.

His talk with Rand Davis had also left him off balance-and wondering what Jolie's father was up to. Not to mention leaving Cord questioning everything that had happened between him and Jolie for the past ten years.                       
       
           



       

Leaning heavily on the footboard, he shuffled toward his bathroom. He paused and stared at the door across the open floor. So near yet so far. But he was sick and tired of being an invalid. If he was going to be a real dad to CJ, if he had any chance of winning Jolie back, he had to suck it up.

Agonizing minutes later, sweating like a racehorse after the Kentucky Derby, he leaned on the cool granite counter and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He'd lost weight and muscle tone, and the gray pallor did not blend well with his fading tan. Time to rectify things. From now on, he was standing on his own two feet. Well, with the help of a walker, but not for long. Nope, not for long at all.

An hour later, he entered the kitchen, standing on his own two feet, though pushing the wheeled walker the therapist had sent over. Miz Beth sniffled and waved him to the broad breakfast bar while she hustled up a plate and silverware. Big John moved the walker back out of the way as Cord settled into one of the tall chairs fronting the bar. A few minutes later, Kaden sauntered in and washed up at the kitchen sink.

The three men shuffled food into their mouths with no time for polite conversation between bites. But after dinner, when Miz Beth served warm apple fritters and coffee, Cord broached a new subject with the ranch manager.

"What do you know about therapeutic riding, Kaden?"

The other man shrugged. "Read some stuff. Saw it when I was up at Oklahoma State gettin' my degree." Kaden turned to face him, a thoughtful expression knitting his brow and pursing his lips. "You thinkin' about getting back in the saddle, boss man?"

Cord barely refrained from rolling his eyes. He and his brothers had known almost from the moment Kaden had been hired that he was a Barron, despite his last name being the same as his mother's-Waite. The Chickasaw half of his heritage explained his tanned skin and black hair, but his eyes-like all the offspring of Cyrus Barron-gave him away. To Cord's knowledge, Kaden never mentioned his father, and definitely never acknowledged he might be Cyrus Barron's son. Raised by a mother who'd never married, Kaden kept his own counsel and ran the ranch's cattle and horse operations like a man with twice his experience.

"Yeah, I am. Maybe teach CJ to ride at the same time."

Cord caught Kaden's flickering glance before the man answered, "We can do that." Kaden took a long drag on the coffee in his cup and swallowed before facing Cord. "You sure seem to be acceptin' of this situation, Cord."

"He's my son, Kaden. I'm not going to turn my back on him." Or his mother.

Taking another swallow, Kaden stood up. "Mighty fine dinner, Miz Beth. Thank you." He tipped an invisible hat to Big John before clapping a gentle hand on Cord's shoulder. "That's what makes you different, Cordell Barron. It surely does."





Seven

More nervous than a sinner sitting in the front pew, Cord waited on the porch of the main house. Jolie had agreed to let CJ stay the weekend at the ranch. He'd had almost two weeks to get used to having a son. While he was excited to see CJ, it was the anticipation of seeing Jolie and putting his plan into action that had his nerves twanging. Dinner first, with Jolie staying to eat, and then maybe the three of them watching a movie. To ease any nerves the boy might have about sleeping in a new place. That was Cord's excuse. It all sounded plausible to him. Surely Jolie was nervous, too, about leaving her son with virtual strangers.

John and Miz Beth had set up the patio for grilling burgers, all within easy walking distance so Cord wouldn't have to rely on the walker. He'd already mostly abandoned it, but for longer distances. In addition to burgers and hot dogs ready to be slapped on the grill, there was Miz Beth's famous potato salad. Sweet tea-Jolie's favorite-and fruit punch. A tub of homemade ice cream in the freezer. All that was lacking in his perfect scenario was Jolie and CJ.

He'd loved Jolie with an unreasonable fervor when they were younger. And he'd been a dreamer. The old man had put a stop to that. Cord shook off that train of thought. He couldn't go back and change the past. All he could do was work toward the future he wanted. Thoughts of his father filled his chest with cold dread. Thankfully, he was down in Houston looking at an oil refinery to buy. Cord should be there with him, as CEO of BarEx, and would have been but for his accident.                       
       
           



       

But it was good his father was away. So far, it seemed as if no one had spilled the beans about CJ. That wouldn't last, and when Cyrus found out, hell would certainly break loose. With luck, Cord's plan would work and he'd have Jolie and CJ back before the old man could do a thing to stop him.

The cool night wind prickled the hair on his arms. It was just the wind-or so he told himself. Not a premonition about his father.

Cord went back to his strategy for tonight. Maybe he'd opt for s'mores around the patio's fire pit instead of a movie. His chest tightened, along with his groin, at the thought of snuggling with Jolie on the big lounger. Every night, he slipped into sleep with her eyes and beautiful body foremost in his thoughts. He dreamed of touching her skin and always woke up hard and hungry. And not just since his accident.

Tires crunching on gravel pulled him out of his reverie. He ducked back into the shadows to watch the woman he still loved and their son arrive. As Jolie's crossover SUV swung into the big circle, he ducked through the front door. Wouldn't do to let her see his anxiety. He almost laughed out loud. Anxious? Hell, he was terrified he'd screw this up. And if he did? There'd be no second chance.

When the car rolled to a smooth stop before the wide front steps, he opened the door and strode forward, a mask of confidence plastered on his face. He'd worked his ass off for two weeks to lose the chair and the walker. He couldn't go far, but by damn he could get to the porch and down the steps. Luckily, he hadn't taken the first riser when CJ barreled into him.

"Dad! Dad! Mom! Mom! Lookie. See!" The boy whirled toward his mom, his face alight with happiness. "Daddy's walkin'!"

"I can see that." Jolie quirked an eyebrow as if she didn't believe her eyes. "Don't you think it's a little soon?"

"Nope. The therapist told me to go at my own speed."