Free Native Cowboy by Rita Herron

can at two months after his wife had walked out.
    He raked his hand over his chin. God, he’d never thought about being a father before, but there was no way he would walk out on his own kid.
    He knew the pain that caused. The feeling of betrayal, of shame, of guilt and abandonment. Hadn’t he asked himself a thousand times why his father hadn’t loved him?
    He’d assumed his mixed heritage was the reason, but deep down he’d believed he wasn’t...lovable.
    He’d never let his kid think that.
    Cara turned on to the road leading to the south end cabins, and they bypassed the area where Nellie’s car and body had been found. The image of Nellie’s stomach cut open haunted him.
    Had she been on her way to see Cara? Had the killer known where she was going?
    That thought sent a bolt of fear straight through him.
    What if he was waiting on her now?
    * * *
    C ARA’S NERVES WERE on edge as she parked in front of her cabin. It had been a long day.
    First she’d spent time at the clinic at the ranch, then at the Winchester clinic in town, then that horrible phone call about Nellie. Her back was aching, and she rubbed it as she grabbed her purse and hauled herself from the car.
    Mason’s headlights loomed behind her as he rolled to a stop, and she fought the urge to rush inside and close the door, shutting him out.
    Tonight had been too emotional. Nellie’s death. The clinic had been broken into.
    And she’d finally been forced to tell the father of her child about their baby.
    Fatigue clawed at her, but she gathered the last remnants of her pride and strength and walked up the porch steps. She had to make sure Mason knew she wasn’t trying to trap him into playing father.
    Or husband to her.
    That she would and could stand on her own.
    The sound of Mason’s car door slamming echoed behind her, then his boots crunched gravel and pounded the wood boards as he climbed the steps. She felt his big body behind her, and his ominous presence tempted her to lean into him.
    She was so tired tonight, so shaken by all that had happened, so drawn to him just as she had been when she’d first met him, that she wanted to fall into his arms and have him hold her and assure her everything would be all right.
    But that was a fantasy, not reality, and she lived in the real world. Not only did she have to protect herself, she had to protect her son.
    The keys jangled in her hand as she fumbled to unlock the door. Mason took them, then unlocked it for her.
    “Thanks.” Cara turned to him, determined he leave before he stepped inside her space. Having him in her cabin, leaving his scent, his image in the rooms where she found solace, would only make her miss him more when he left.
    “Cara, I was thinking,” Mason said. “If Nellie was coming to see you, her killer might know where you live.”
    Cara sighed, too weary to contemplate his comment. “It’s been two days since he killed her, Mason. If he was coming after me, he would have done so by now.”
    Mason’s face constricted. “We can’t be sure of that, Cara. He might have come to the clinic looking for you, got angry when you weren’t there and trashed the place in his rage.”
    She shivered at the thought. “Thanks for following me home, Mason, but I’m tired. I just want to go to bed.”
    A tense heartbeat passed between them, riddled with what she’d said. Her mind strayed to images of him following her, climbing into bed with her, holding her all night.
    A second later, reality hit her with the force of another Braxton Hicks contraction. For goodness’ sakes, she was nine months pregnant, not exactly sexy. No man wanted to crawl in bed with a woman when she looked like a whale.
    Besides, they had too much to discuss to even think about getting close and personal again.
    Mason put a hand on the door to keep her from closing it. “Let me at least check out the cabin.”
    Cara knew Mason well enough not to bother arguing. He hadn’t wanted a commitment with her, but