Her chin came up. “Plenty of children are successfully raised by single parents. And money isn’t the answer to everything.”
“No,” he said agreeably. “But money is a necessity when raising a child.”
He watched as Brooke’s clearly rising temper was quickly subdued by the baby’s antics. Cara had a way of doing that, he thought and an unexpected wave of affection coursed through him. It was impossible to not be attached to the child. She was sweet natured and happy and he’d spent a good deal of time with her over the past few months. Which is why he had to be sure that Matthew Laughton was up to being a parent—if he ever showed his face. As for Brooke, he suspected she’d agree to look after Cara in a heartbeat, but he wasn’t going to be swayed from his duty simply because he was unexpectedly attracted to her, especially if she had financial troubles.
“Love is all that matters,” she said, scorching him with a hot, resentful glare for a brief second before she quickly got her control back. “And she would get plenty of that right here in Cedar River.”
She was naive if she truly believed that, and although Tyler was suddenly all out of patience, he maintained a civil expression. “Well, if your brother fails to show and you can prove that you are able to financially support a child, I will certainly consider your request.”
“Thank you,” she said and slid onto the floor with the baby to allow Cara to crawl on the carpet. “I appreciate that. I know this must be a difficult situation for you and I understand that you need to put Cara’s needs first. So, I was thinking...perhaps you would consider staying at the ranch while we wait for Matthew to come home. That way, when he calls, you can speak to him right away. And... I’d really like to spend some time with Cara.”
It wasn’t a good idea. In fact, he was sure it was the worst idea possible. He had no intention of living under the same roof as Brooke Laughton...not even for one night.
“No.”
Her jaw tightened. But she didn’t respond with a temper like he assumed she wanted to. She was appeasing him. Keeping him sweet. Playing him. He suspected she would say and do whatever she thought he wanted to hear. But the lawyer in him was immediately on point.
“No?” she queried. “But you can’t really believe a hotel is the best place for a baby.”
“I think I know what’s best for Cara. And this is very comfortable,” he said and waved a vague hand. “Cara has everything she needs and I prefer to be here and not stuck...” His words trailed for a second. “And not so far out of town.”
“It’s a nice hotel,” she said in quiet agreement, clearly holding her tongue. “But it’s a hotel...not a home. Don’t you think she’s been through enough already with losing her mom and then traveling across the country to meet strangers? A real home, where she can have a routine and not be surrounded by staff and tourists, makes much more sense. And I’m a pretty good cook, so you could have home-cooked meals every day. Plus, it’s Christmas next week.”
It was a damned good argument and he admired her approach. But he wasn’t going to be swayed. “Good try. You’d make a fine attorney.”
Her eyes flashed. There was that temper, he thought. It made him smile a little.
“Please...just say you’ll think about the offer. We don’t need to be at war over this.”
Oh, yeah...she was good.
“I’ll take it under advisement,” he said and raised a brow.
She opened her mouth to speak and then clamped her lips together tightly. She had a long fuse. And she was smart. He liked that about her. It meant she wasn’t a pushover. It didn’t mean he was going to move in with her. No way in hell.
* * *
By the time she left the hotel room Brooke was so mad she could have punched someone. Or more specifically, knocked Tyler Madden’s perfectly straight white teeth down his perfectly gorgeous throat.
She stomped out the elevator and almost collided with the hotel’s owner, Liam O’Sullivan. He was another man who thought way too much of himself and his opinions.
“Everything okay, Brooke?” he asked, eyes narrowed.
“Sure. Have you seen Kayla?”
Kayla Rickard was one of her closest friends and Brooke was pretty sure she was sleeping with Liam O’Sullivan. Kayla had been tight-lipped about the whole affair—probably since Liam and his family were about as unpopular in town as they were rich and powerful—and since Kayla’s dad absolutely hated Liam’s father for reasons that went back three decades and no one ever talked about.
Liam managed to look a little uncomfortable and checked his watch. “No. She’s probably at work.”
Kayla was curator of the town’s historical museum and art gallery, and Brooke remembered that her friend opened the place for a few hours on Saturday mornings. “Okay, thanks.”
She said goodbye and left the hotel. When she got to the pavement she shivered. Winter had come with a vengeance. Snow blanketed the sidewalk and she tread carefully as she took a left and walked the fifty or so feet to the museum. The adobe shop front was original, dating from the previous century—the place had once been the first mercantile in town. The historical society had purchased the building and turned it into a museum about fifteen years earlier.
“Hey there,” Kayla said when she walked through the front door.
Her friend came around the reception desk and gave her a hug. Kayla was easily the most beautiful woman she’d ever known. Five foot ten with model-perfect proportions and long blond hair that she always wore in a braid. Although Brooke was a couple of years older they’d been friends since they were in middle school and, along with Lucy Monero and Ash McCune, were as close as any friends could be.
“I need to vent,” Brooke said and plonked herself into a chair.
Kayla looked around the empty room. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”
She was just about to start spilling her tale of woe when the bell above the door dinged and Ash walked in. Petite and curvy, with flaming red hair, she was a cop who worked for the town’s police department. Brooke was glad for the reinforcements. Having her friends around her in her time of need hardened her resolve. It took another minute or so before she had a chance to explain what had happened and when she was done, her two friends were staring at her incredulously.
“And this lawyer says the baby is Matt’s?” Kayla asked, eyes wide, mouth agape. “For real?”
“For real,” Brooke replied. “And she looks exactly like him anyhow.”
“And if Matt doesn’t come home he’ll take the baby back to New York and see she’s adopted?” Ash, who was a single mom to an eleven-year-old son, clearly thought that to be an outrageously bad idea.
“Exactly,” Brooke replied. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve called Matt half a dozen times since last night...but nothing. I have no idea where he is. I don’t even know if he’s in the country. And I had no idea he was ever in New York.”
Both women knew her brother’s history and both hardly looked surprised that he hadn’t made contact. But she refused to give up hope. She had to keep having faith in her brother.
“He said he’ll stay for a week. I’m not sure that’s enough time.”
“You should get your own lawyer,” Ash suggested. “In case you need to fight for custody.”
She had one. Werner Stewart. He’d been little help in trying to save her ranch and she suspected he’d be even less help dealing with the custody of a child.
Kayla moved behind the desk and perched herself in front of the computer. “What’s this lawyer’s name?” she asked.
“Tyler