She stood, knowing this conversation was over. He was getting angry.
“And I want my damn comb back.”
She reached into her back pocket and pulled it out. “The lab couldn’t get a clear DNA. They would need your blood or saliva.” She held up a hand as he made to speak. “If you’re curious, here’s my card.” She fished it out of her front pocket. “Just call me.”
“I’m not remotely curious. I know exactly who my parents are. My father was in Germany when I was born, but my aunt was with my mother and took care of us until we flew to Germany to be with my dad. No mystery at all. You have the wrong man.”
She chewed on the inside of her lip. “The resemblance between you and the Braxtons is too big a coincidence to ignore.” She paused. “The Braxtons have black hair and blue eyes—just like you.”
“You have the wrong man, Ms. Donovan,” he repeated, not even blinking.
She held his gaze. “Prove it.”
He sucked in a breath at her audacity. “I know who my parents are. Believe me, there were times when I wished they weren’t, as all kids do, but I’m stuck with them. My father had black hair and blue eyes. It’s not indigenous to one family.”
“A simple little test, Mr. Hayes, could ease Mrs. Braxton’s mind. After all these years she’s still desperate to find her son. I just want to help her, and hopefully, it won’t be at your expense.”
“I see no need for a test. I’m not her son.”
“If you change your mind, you have my card.” She headed for her car, then swung back. “I’m sorry about the comb.”
He didn’t answer and she made her way back to the city. She didn’t call Mrs. Braxton. She decided to give Brodie some time. It was a very complicated situation and Alex knew she was being pulled more and more into it.
She couldn’t shake that feeling growing inside her—that Brodie was wrong.
BRODIE TOSSED AND TURNED, unable to get Alex Donovan out of his mind. An investigator—that was the last thing he’d expected. But he knew from the start that she wasn’t a girl out for a good time. She was out to destroy his life.
Not her exactly, but her client. And just because he had black hair and blue eyes! He knew who he was. There were no doubts about that. He sat up in bed as something occurred to him. Alex had said the woman was desperate. What if Mrs. Braxton tried to contact his mother? She’d found him so there would be no problem in finding his mother. In Claudia’s fragile health that could be disastrous.
He had to make sure that never happened.
In the morning he drove into Dallas to find Alex Donovan. If a simple test would keep Mrs. Braxton away from his mother, then he’d do it. He didn’t want someone continually hounding his mother or him.
He found the office without a problem. It was a small building that housed several businesses. Donovan Investigations was on the bottom floor and the door was open. Workmen were going in and out. He was about to leave when he saw her talking to one of the guys.
He watched her for a moment. She talked with her hands and her face was animated. He felt a hitch in his throat. From the first moment he set eyes on her, he knew she was different. His instincts were right on target. He just wished his heart didn’t do a dog paddle when he looked at her.
Surprise filtered across her face when she noticed him.
“Mr. Hayes.” She walked to him, her hips moving with an easy tantalizing rhythm.
“I’ve decided to take the test.” He came right to the point, ignoring that sparkle in her eyes.
“Oh. Sure. I’ll set it up and I’ll get a card with the address.” She hurried into an office and came back with a business card in her hand.
“Thank you for doing this,” she said, handing it to him. “Mrs. Braxton will be very grateful.”
“I’m not doing this for Mrs. Braxton.” He wanted to make that very clear. “I figured if she found me she could easily find my mother, who is not in the best of health. I will not have her harassed by an insane woman who thinks I’m her long lost son.”
“Mrs. Braxton might be desperate, but she wouldn’t do that.”
“Yeah. Like you wouldn’t enter my home under false pretences and steal to get my DNA. I want to stop this now before my mother gets involved.”
“The reason I did that was so you wouldn’t have to know. I am sorry.”
Those brown eyes begged him to understand, but he turned away. “There’s no need to contact me after this. Just give Mrs. Braxton the results and we’re done.”
“Mr. Hayes…”
He swung back to her. “That’s it, Ms. Donovan. I don’t want to see you again.”
Chapter Four
Brodie had lunch with Cleo and his mother. Although he tried to push the DNA test from his mind, it kept nagging at him. He wondered why Mrs. Braxton thought he was her son. Maybe she wasn’t stable, and looked for her son in every black-haired, blue-eyed man she saw.
Claudia went to lie down for a nap. Brodie helped Cleo take the dishes to the kitchen.
“Great chicken-fried steak, Cleo.”
“You’re easy to please. Claudie’s so picky.”
Brodie leaned against the cabinet as Cleo methodically stacked the plates side by side in the dishwasher and slipped the silverware into the slots. “Mother and I have been talking about when I was kid,” he said matter-of-factly. “You were with my mother when I born, right?” He hadn’t anticipated asking his aunt this question. The words just slipped out of their own volition.
She glanced up for a brief second. “Sure was. I was separated from husband number two and Claudie called wanting to stay with me while she had her baby. Tom was on some sort of special assignment in Germany and couldn’t leave, but he wanted you born in the States.”
Brodie folded his arms across his chest as more questions filled his mind. “Were you in the room with her?”
Cleo put soap in the dispenser and closed the door. “Yes. You know how your mother’s afraid of being alone. I stood right by her side, holding her hand as you came into the world. Tom was on the phone and I was talking to him while trying to soothe Claudie. Tom was so happy when I told him it was a boy.”
The knot in his gut eased. “Mother didn’t stay in Dallas long after that, did she?”
“Good heavens, no. She couldn’t wait for Tom to see you. You had a thatch of black hair and beautiful blue eyes just like your father.” Cleo wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “You must have been a week old when Claudie flew to Germany. When I talked to her later, she said Tom was enthralled with you.”
Brodie made a face. “But not so much as I grew older.”
“Sweetie, he was disappointed you were so hell-bent on the rodeo, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t proud.”
“Sometimes I’m not so sure about that.”
Cleo clicked her tongue. “Come with me. I want to show you something.” He followed her into the den. She opened a cabinet and pulled out a photo album. “Take a look at this.”
He sat on the sofa and flipped through the album in awe. There were newspaper clippings of his rodeo triumphs through the years. His parents had kept track of his life—his successes. For a moment he was speechless.
“Tom was never good at showing his feelings, but you were his son and he was proud of you.”
He touched a clipping from