Cassie was back.
Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and as Jake adjusted to the shock of finding her on his front steps, he finally noticed what she was holding.
A baby.
Wrapped toe to neck in some kind of zip-up covering, all Jake could see of the child were big blue eyesâjust like his own.
A jolt of emotions shot through him so hard he gripped the doorknob tight to keep from falling over in shock.
âWhat the hell?â
âJake,â Cassie said, âmeet your son. Luke.â
âMy son?â Silently, Jake congratulated himself on the control keeping his voice from raging with the fury erupting inside him.
He couldnât believe this. For a year and a half, this woman had haunted him, waking and sleeping. Hell, heâd hardly known her and shouldnât have given her another thought once she was gone. But he had.
Heâd even fantasized a couple times about seeing her here again.
He just had never imagined her carrying his child along with her.
His child. He had a son.
* * *
The Cowboyâs Pride and Joy is part of the No.1 bestselling miniseries from Mills & Boon>® Desire>â¢âBillionaires & Babies: Powerful men ⦠wrapped around their babiesâ little fingers.
MAUREEN CHILD writes for the Mills & Boon>® Desire>⢠line and canât imagine a better job. Being able to indulge your love for romance, as well as being able to spin stories just the way you want them told, isâin a wordâperfect.
A seven-time finalist for the prestigious Romance Writers of America RITA>® Award, Maureen is the author of more than one hundred romance novels. Her books regularly appear on the bestseller lists and have won several awards, including a Prism, a National Readersâ Choice Award, a Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence and a Golden Quill.
One of her books, The Soul Collector, was made into a CBS TV movie starring Melissa Gilbert, Bruce Greenwood and Ossie Davis. If you look closely, in the last five minutes of the movie, youâll spot Maureen, who was an extra in the last scene.
Maureen believes that laughter goes hand in hand with love, so her stories are always filled with humor. The many letters she receives assure her that her readers love to laugh as much as she does.
Maureen Child is a native Californian, but has recently moved to the mountains of Utah. She loves a new adventure, though the thought of having to deal with snow for the first time is a little intimidating.
This book is dedicated to my grand-dog, Bristow.
Funny, sweet, loyal, Bristow loves with his whole heart and weâre so glad to have him in our family.
One
âWhen Boston comes to Montana, itâs never a good thing.â Jake Hunter frowned into the distance.
âYou always were too hard on your mother.â
Jake turned his head to look at the older man standing beside him. At seventy-five years old, Ben Hawkins didnât stand as straight and tall as he once had. But he still had a full head of snow-white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a face weathered and tanned from years of working in the sun.
âAnd you were always too soft on her.â
Ben shrugged that away with a half smile. âSheâs my daughter.â
âThere is that.â Jake nodded. âAnyway, if it all goes as promised, this will be the last time Boston comes calling for anything but a family visit.â
âIâve got to ask. Are you sure about this?â Ben pulled the collar of his coat up higher around his neck against the cold autumn wind. âI mean, what youâre planning canât be changed. Youâre signing away your rights to the business your family built.â
âOh,â Jake assured him, âIâm sure. This has been a long time coming, Pop.â Jake shook his head. âHunter Media has nothing I want. Never has.â
And he knew how much that fact irritated his mother. She had always planned on Jake taking over the day-to-day running of the company built by her husbandâs family. The fact that Jake had never been interested really hadnât bothered her any. Elise Hawkins Hunter was nothing if not determined.
Ben snorted a laugh. âYou always were more stubborn than anything else.â
âNot stubborn.â Jake took a deep breath, relishing the sharp, cold sting that hit his lungs. âI just know what I want. Always have.â
Now he glanced around at the ranch he loved. The place that had been his solace and comfort when heâd come here during the summer as a kidâand when heâd returned here after leaving the military.
October in the mountains of Montana was spectacular. As though God was putting on a show just before the winter cold settled in. The trees were turning brilliant shades of gold, orange and red. Dark clouds scudded across a sky so wide and blue it almost hurt your eyes to look at it. From the corral and barn came the sounds of horses and the men working with them. And spilling out in front of and below the huge ranch house heâd built was Whitefish Lake, sapphire water surrounded by tall pines that dipped and swayed with the wind.