“You think that’s wise?”
He pounds his side. “The ribs are healing. I’m going stir-crazy.”
I shrug. “Sure. I’ll ride with you.”
“Sophie,” he says. “Same deal this Friday night?”
“You don’t have to pay me five hundred dollars every time you want me to stay over with her.”
“I’m only trying to help you out. You won’t have this job much longer.”
“Fine. But just this once, and only because I need to pad my bank account. Who knows how long it will be before I find another family.” She gazes at Josie. “I’m going to miss her. And you’re like the best bosses ever. Is it selfish of me to wish she turns out to be yours?”
I don’t tell her I ask myself that same question every day.
Quinn ignores her comment. He’s gotten good at side-stepping any talk of paternity. And he checks the DHR mailbox obsessively. Lately, I’ve found him quite literally waiting for the mailman to deliver the mail.
We leave for the stables. Maddox storms out of the office entrance. He sees us coming. “Fucking Jon. Already up to his old ways.”
“What’s he done now?” Quinn asks.
“He’s messing with our suppliers again. Does the man have nothing better to do than make my life complicated?”
“Let me take care of it.”
Maddox kicks dirt. “I don’t want anyone confronting him. Could make things worse. I’ll deal with it and hope he gets bored eventually.”
“Why do you think he’s going through the trouble?” I ask. “From what I’ve learned about the Thompsons, with Joel gone, it doesn’t seem like Jon would be in the market to buy the ranch.”
“He doesn’t want to buy it,” Quinn says. “He just wants to fuck with us. Somehow, in his mind, he’s made it everyone’s fault but his that he went to prison.” He pats his ribs. “With these things sidetracking me, I may do a little investigating. See what he’s up to.”
“Don’t get yourself into trouble,” Maddox says.
“Nah. I’ll just follow him and do some digging.” He thumbs to the stable. “Amber and I are going riding. We’ll catch you later.”
Maddox walks off. I cross my arms. “You just can’t stay away from danger, can you? If you’re not flying, you’re breaking your ribs at the rodeo, and now you want to spy on your uncle?”
“Relax. I only want to find out what he’s planning and be one step ahead of him.”
“And you can do that just by watching him?”
He shrugs. “I know some people. Jon has a lot of enemies in this town. Folks who wouldn’t think twice about giving me any dirt.”
“I thought you said most people hate you too. Why would they help you?”
“Because ruining my uncle would end my grandfather’s reign, that’s why.”
“And what would make anyone think you’re not plotting to take over his empire?”
He laughs, then winces. He’s not nearly healed. “You watch too much television.”
We tack up the horses—I know how to do it myself now—then we head out. When he leads his horse toward a difficult trail, I cut him off. “We’re going this way,” I say.
“Amber, I’m fine.”
“If laughing causes you pain, you’re far from fine. We’re taking the easy trail.”
“You think you’re the boss of me?” he says with a smirk.
“I just want my man in one piece, is all. So sue me.”
“Your man, huh? I like the sound of that.” We ride out, taking it slow. “Speaking of me being your man, I was wondering if you’d be up to ditching the rubbers. I mean, we’re only sleeping with each other now.” He shakes his head as if it’s a novel thought. “We could drive into town, get blood tests or whatever.” His heated stare permeates me. “And damn, it sure would be nice to feel every inch of you without a raincoat.”
“I think that can be arranged. Go ahead and set it up.”
He grins. “As soon as we get home.”
Home. It’s strange how a place that doesn’t belong to either of us has taken on such a meaning.
Quinn’s phone rings. “It’s the lawyer. I have to take this.” We bring the horses to a stop. “Hey, Ms. Nessman. I didn’t expect to hear from you.” He listens. “Yes, ma’am, I have a minute. Do you mind if I put you on speaker? My girlfriend is here, and I don’t want to have to repeat everything later.” He taps the speaker button on his phone.
“As I was saying, I wanted to talk to you about something. A few weeks ago, you sent over the legal papers Ms. Minchion gave you. I know we said we’d wait to talk until your results come back, but something caught my eye.”
“Go ahead.”
“If you claim not to be the father, why is your name on the child’s birth certificate?”
“Because Michelle put it there.”
“That’s impossible.”
“How so?”
“In order to have your name listed on the birth certificate, you each have to be there in person and show proper identification. If a parent doesn’t show up in person, they can submit a notarized document, but again, you would have had to appear before a notary and provide identification.”
“What the hell? But I didn’t even know about Josie until last month. I sure as shit didn’t show up in person, and I didn’t sign anything.”
“Then we’re looking at fraud committed by Ms. Minchion. Do you have any reason to believe she’s in possession of your passport, driver’s license, or state ID?”
“No. Why would she be?” His face goes ashen. “Oh, crap.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“My wallet went missing.”
“When?” the lawyer asks.
He looks to the sky and runs a hand through his hair. “About two fucking months ago. Pardon my French. I was at a bar, and I’d been drinking. I thought I lost it. Canceled my credit cards and got a new license.”
“Was Ms. Minchion there?”
“No, she wasn’t there. She would have been super pregnant.”
“Can you remember the exact date?” she asks.
“It was the weekend before Aaron’s wedding, so late April maybe.”
“Josie was born on April twenty-fifth,” I say. “She could have had her and then devised a plan to have someone steal your wallet.”
“I’m going to kill her,” Quinn says.
“When are the paternity results expected?” the lawyer asks.
“Any day now.”
“Then don’t do anything quite yet. Let’s see what we’re up against here. If you’re not the father, we can sue to have your name removed from the birth certificate, and she’ll most likely be brought up on charges for falsifying government documents. If you are the child’s father, fraud or no, it’ll be a moot point, and we’ll have other things to deal with.”
“So you’re saying Josie’s mother isn’t only a deadbeat mom, but also a criminal.”