The Cowboy's Secret Baby: BWWM Cowboy Pregnancy Romance (Young Adult First Time Billionaire Steamy African American) by Christin Jensen Read Free Book Online Page B

where Clarice was shivering in a front-opening hospital gown.
    “Well,” Dr. Burtis sat down on a leather-covered, wheeled stool, “you are definitely going to be a mother next May, but I don’t see that you will have any physical difficulties.  Since your insurance is in order, I can recommend you to a first-rate obstetrician who can explain all your birthing options.  Physically, you’re in excellent shape for motherhood. – Now I want to broach another matter.”
    “I’m not going to name the baby’s father,” Clarice intervened quickly.  “I’ll get a name for the birth certificate out of the obituary columns, like Mother did.”
    Amused by this outburst, Dr. Burtis quirked an eyebrow and continued.  “Would you like to know the truth behind her little bit of chicanery?  Your father is my patient; I have blood samples from both of you and his permission to tell you.”
    Clarice nearly jumped out of her skin.  “You know who my father is?  He’s a real person and respectable?”
    Dr. Burtis smiled.  “He’s out in my waiting room right now.  After all these years, he’s finally been able to trace you through Professor Santana’s banking needs.  He’s a Trust Officer at one of our larger banks.”
    “That makes sense; Mother once worked at a bank in Nashville.”  Clarice worked hard to think when she really wanted to run screaming into the waiting room and meet her long-lost father.  “Please show me the proof that we’re related.”
    Dr. Burtis rose and drew some computer printouts from the pocket of his white lab coat.  Standing beside her, he carefully explained all the DNA points of similarity.  “We do it all with mouth swabs now,” he explained.  “I can collect that kind of information in the course of a complete physical.”  Seeing the shock of joy in her eyes, he added, “Just dress and come along to my office.  I’ll have him meet you there.”
    Later, Clarice went to lunch with her newly-discovered father in a restaurant near the doctors’ complex.  Once she met John Pirtle, the truth of her paternity was not hard to accept.  It was her own eyes that stared back at her from his face, and the long hand that had shaken hers was definitely like her own.
    John Pirtle just looked at her while they were waiting to order.  “As soon as we’ve got the ordering taken care of, I’ll show you the only letter your mother ever sent me.  You understand things well enough now that this will be an adequate explanation.”
    “I always thought there must be a letter somewhere,” Clarice responded.  “Mother’s never been discreet when she’s angry.”  She quirked a corner of her lips in rueful amusement.  “That’s how I came to learn the she had taken the name ‘Maurice Saxe’ from the obituary column. – I found the name in a history book and called her on it.”
    “Oh, lord, you would come across Maurice de Saxe in art history.”  Pirtle winced, but then grinned companionably. “I myself came across that truth when the bank had me checking some artwork provenance.”
    Once they had been served bread and beverages, Pirtle handed across a folded, yellow paper.  “You’d better read that now before you decide what to order.”
    Clarice had grown accustomed to Marion’s outrageous tantrums, but she had never seen one in writing before – especially a screed so venomous.  She looked up at her new-found father.  “Mother blackmailed you, right from the beginning.”
    “Yes, and I’ve kept paying, even after my wife Josephine died two years ago.  There were still my business reputation and my legitimate children to consider,” he replied almost meekly.  “It wasn’t until I learned from various sources that you were trying to pull loose from Marion that I said to hell with the consequences.”
    “Then you’re the one who financed the loan that let Lea Santana fix up her chicken house,” Clarice stated. “Look, I’m not my mother.  I’m not