He was about to change stations on his radio when his cell phone rang. He hoped it wasn’t Stern again. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw it was his cousin Bailey, the youngest of the Westmoreland siblings and cousins living in Denver. Growing up, Bailey had been nearly as bad as Bane when it came to getting into trouble.
He clicked the phone on. “What’s up, Bay?”
“Zane’s back. He got in today.”
Canyon nodded. His cousin Zane had left town a good three weeks ago on what Canyon had assumed was a business trip, only to discover later that his cousin was running behind a woman he’d once had an affair with by the name of Channing Hastings. Rumor had it that Zane was returning home with a wedding band on his finger.
“He’s married?”
“Not yet. He and Channing are talking about a Christmas wedding.”
A Christmas wedding? It was hard to believe Zane, a die-hard bachelor, was thinking about settling down.
“Didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”
“Well, I’m glad he came to his senses.” Bailey paused and then said, “Don’t forget this is chow-down night.”
Every other Friday night, the Westmorelands got together at his brother Dillon’s place. The women would do the cooking and the men would arrive hungry. Afterward, the men took part in a poker game and the women did whatever they pleased.
“I might be a little late,” he said, since he wasn’t sure how his confrontation with Keisha would go. If she was babysitting somebody’s kid, he would follow her home just to see where she lived and then return at another time and try to talk to her. At some point, he needed to let her know about the person who’d been following her. It might be something she needed to check into, especially if it was related to a case she was working on.
“Why?”
He frowned at Bailey’s question. “Why what?”
“Why will you be late? Dillon mentioned you left work early today.”
For some reason Bailey assumed being the youngest automatically made her privy to everyone’s business. Instead of answering her, he tapped on the phone several times and then said, “Sounds like we have a bad connection, Bay. I’ll talk to you later.”
He clicked the phone off in time to see Keisha walk back out of the building. Studying her face he saw she was still smiling, which was a good sign. She was also chatting with the little boy whose hand she was holding—a boy who was probably around two years old.
Canyon studied the little boy’s features. “WTF,” he muttered under his breath. The kid could be a double for Denver, Dillon’s three-year-old son. In fact, if Canyon didn’t know for certain that Denver was at home with Dillon’s wife, Pam, he would think it was Denver’s hand that Keisha was holding. An uneasy feeling stirred his insides as he continued to study the little boy whose smile was just as big as Keisha’s.
Canyon took in a gasping breath. There was only one reason the little boy looked so much like a Westmoreland. Canyon gripped the steering wheel, certain steam was coming out of his ears and nose.
He didn’t remember easing his seat back, unbuckling his seat belt or opening the car door. Neither did he remember walking toward Keisha. However, he would always remember the look on her face when she stopped walking and glanced in his direction. What he saw in her features was surprise, guilt and remorse.
As he got closer he watched defensiveness followed by fierce protectiveness replace those other emotions. She stopped walking and pulled her son—the child he was certain was their son—closer to her side. “What are you doing here, Canyon?”
He came to a stop in front of her. His body was radiating anger from the inside out. His gaze left her face and looked down at the little boy who was clutching the hem of Keisha’s skirt and staring up at him with distrustful eyes that were almost identical to his mother’s.
Canyon shifted his gaze back up to meet Keisha’s eyes. In a voice shaking with fury, he asked, “Would you like to tell me why I didn’t know I had a son?”
Two
Keisha drew in a deep breath while thinking about what she would say, and from Canyon’s tone of voice she knew it better be good. She’d often wondered how he would react when he found out he had a son. Would he deny her child was his like her own father had done with her?
Instead of answering his question, she countered with one of her own. “Would it have mattered had you known?”
She saw surprise flash in his eyes just seconds before his lips formed a tight line. “Of course it would have mattered,” he said with affront. “Now tell me why I wasn’t told.”
Keisha could tell by the way her son held tight to her skirt that he sensed something was wrong, and she knew how anxious he got around strangers. Although she wished otherwise, the time had come for her and Canyon to talk. But not now and not here.
“I need to get Beau home and—”
“Beau?”
She lifted her chin. “Yes. My son’s name is Beau Ashford.”
The anger that flashed across his face was quick. And although he muttered the words, “Not for long,” under his breath, she heard them.
She slowly pulled in a deep breath and then carefully exhaled it. “Like I said, Canyon. I need to get Beau home to prepare dinner and then—”
“Fine,” he cut in before she finished. “Whatever you have planned for tonight, I’m included.”
Like hell he was. “Now look here, Canyon. I—”
She stopped talking when she saw Pauline Sampson, owner of the day care, approaching them. Pauline had been one of Keisha’s first clients when she’d begun practicing law five years ago. She was also a friend of Mr. Spivey’s wife, Joan. Pauline was smiling but Keisha saw deep concern in every curve of the woman’s lips. There was also a degree of curiosity in her eyes.
“Keisha, I happened to glance out my window and saw you were still here. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” Pauline said smoothly.
If everything wasn’t okay, Keisha had no intention of letting Pauline know. “Yes, everything is fine, Pauline.” She hadn’t planned on making introductions, and she was aware that Canyon knew it. She really wasn’t surprised when he took it upon himself to make the introductions himself.
Extending his hand out to Pauline, he said, “How are you, Pauline? I’m Canyon Westmoreland, Beau’s father.”
Keisha watched Pauline’s brow lift in surprise. “Westmoreland?”
Canyon flashed Pauline what Keisha knew to be his dashing smile, one known to win over jurors in the courtroom. “Yes, Westmoreland.”
She saw interest shine in Pauline’s eyes. “Are you related to Dillon Westmoreland?”
Canyon kept his smile in place. “Yes, Dillon is my oldest brother.”
Pauline’s smile widened. “Small world. I can definitely see the resemblance. Dillon and I went to high school together and serve on the boards of directors of several businesses in town.”
“Yes, it is a small world,” Canyon agreed, glancing at his watch. “If you don’t mind excusing us, Pauline, Keisha and I need to get Beau home for dinner.”
“Oh, not at all,” Pauline said, beaming. “I understand.” She then glanced up at Keisha. “Have a good weekend.”
Keisha doubted that would happen now. “You, too, Pauline.”
She knew not to waste time talking Canyon