Her Colorado Man by Cheryl St.john

know you.”
    “I’m here to fix that.”
    She stepped closer. “To what end, Mr. Burrows? How do you plan to step into the imaginary role of hisfather and not disappoint him? Someday he’s going to learn the truth.”
    “How?”
    She stared at him.
    “How will he learn the truth? According to you, only three of us in the entire world know. Is that a fact?”
    “It is.”
    “Nobody else?”
    “No one.”
    “Do you think your grandfather will tell him?”
    “Of course not.”
    “I haven’t pried into your business, but now that you’ve brought it up, what is the truth? Is his real father going to show up?”
    She looked away. “No.”
    “Then how will he find out? Do you plan to enlighten him when he’s older?”
    The lantern light picked up the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Why are you really here?” she asked. “What do you want from us?”
    She blinked and turned her back to him, gripping the bedpost so tightly, her knuckles turned white.
    It didn’t matter how much his leg complained, Wes had to get up and go to her. Her feelings were justified. Her fears were real. He stood behind her, close enough to detect the trembling in her body. He reached out to place his hand on her shoulder and reassure her of his intent.
    The moment his fingers touched her wrapper, she flinched and spun to face him, her eyes wide with mistrust.
    “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
    She raised her chin a notch. “I’m not afraid of you.”
    She was a lovely creature, with skin as pale and satiny-looking as fresh cream. Her vivid blue eyes conveyed her wariness, wounding him unexplainably. He didn’t want to hurt her or the boy. How could he make her understand?
    He took a few steps back.
    “You haven’t thought this out,” she said. “You want to be a part of my son’s life, but what about me? What if I don’t want you in my life?”
    “Look, I know there’s a lot to think about, a lot we have to talk about. But be honest. Don’t you think it would be best for him to have a father?”
    Her exasperation was plain in the way she opened her mouth but said nothing, as though she didn’t even have a reply.
    “You’ll leave,” she said finally, and he thought the words must have hurt the way she hesitated over them. “One day you’ll tire of the charade and move on. And what will happen to him then?”
    “I don’t have any intention of leaving.” His voice was soft, but filled with rigid determination. “Not now and not later. I’ve come to stay. For good.”
     
    Mariah wanted to throw something at him. The man was presumptuous and delusional and… oh my goodness, but he smelled incredible. Like a warm night breeze in the mountains.
    There was no escaping the effect he had on her. When he lowered his voice and spoke so intently, goose bumps raised along her skin. He didn’t have to touch her for her to know how disturbingly close he stood. From the beginning, she’d sensed every time he looked at her, knew the moment he moved closer. What was she going to do about him?
    “What are you doing to us?” she asked, hating that a fat tear escaped her rigid composure and slid down her cheek.
    “I understand that you don’t trust me.” He spoke so calmly that it angered her all the more. He was calm, rational…unless one actually listened to the foolish words he spouted. “You haven’t had time to learn I can be trusted,” he added.
    “You’re crazy.” She scrambled away from him to the opposite side of the bed where she folded down the sheet.
    “Do you want me to go somewhere else?”
    She confronted him across the mattress. “Where? Where would you go that my family wouldn’t see you and question why I’d kicked my newly returned husband from my room?”
    “I don’t know. I could—”
    “No, you’ve butted your way in here and made everybody like you. Everyone thinks you’re—you’re—who you say you are.”
    “I am who I said I am. I’m Wes Burrows.”
    “But you’re not my