Page 50 of Saving Jared

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"Her what?"

Willa’s gaze flicked to Jared’s staggered one over Russ’s shoulder, her fingers twisting the fabric of the man’s—her father’s—shirt. He couldn’t be.

Could he?

"You need to explain yourself," Jared growled low. His gaze slid to hers, their gray, stormy depths filling with worry as he stepped around Russ. "It’s okay, baby. Just breathe."

Breathing wasn’t the easiest thing to do at the moment. All the air had been sucked from her lungs—or at least it felt that way. Then Russ was turning toward her, so she quickly let go of his shirt and stepped back, while shrugging away from the arm Jared attempted to put around her.

He didn’t get to touch her right now. Maybe never again. The way he backed away with his hands up in surrender told her he’d probably gotten that point. Because while she appreciated the fact he wanted to comfort her, after what he’d just accused her of, well…

Softening, liquid, dark brown eyes met hers. She cleared her throat. "You’re…" Russ's face blurred and she blinked hard.

"I’m sorry," Russ whispered. "I never meant for you to know, or to find out like this. But you are my daughter."

A gasp cut through the barn, and she quickly scrubbed over her face and whirled toward the entrance. Laurel Fremont stood there, swaying slightly as Hart and Kinsley came up behind her. The older woman’s hand lifted to her mouth as her already fair complexion paled even more and her widened eyes darted between her and Russ.

Hart took hold of her arms from behind, steadying her. "What’s going on, sis?" Then his questioning gaze lifted to Willa’s before going toward Russ—recognition filling their green depths. "I remember you," he murmured. His eyes widened as his own gaze bounced from Russ to the back of his sister’s head. "Well, I’ll be damned."

"You should be," Kinsley groused, before rushing around the Fremonts. Willa needed the support of someone who loved her at the moment. And regardless of his apparent concern, it certainly wasn’t Jared who had moved several feet away. He hadn’t attempted to physically touch her again, but she’d felt his eyes on her, nonetheless.

"What have we just walked into?" Kinsley asked while wrapping her arms around her.

Willa let out a shuddering breath as she shook her head, whispering, "I don’t even know where to start." She hazarded a glance at Jared—the man who had just destroyed her. How had he gotten it into his head she’d cheated on him with someone at the firehouse? No one…

Cord.

But how? She’d seen Cord at the rodeo but had steered clear of him. Jared’s somber stare held hers—a stare tinged with regret. Good. He should be sorry. He had a lot to answer for.

"R-R-R-R-Russell?" Willa’s gaze darted to where Laurel took several tentative steps, bringing her further into the barn, her eyes welling with tears.

"Laurel." Russ said her name on a strangled, low breath. Then before Willa could blink, he rushed past her to Laurel, who met him halfway. The other woman jumped up and wrapped herself around Russ as if her life depended on him as a look of pure joy filled her face. And then her features were eclipsed when Russ took her mouth in a kiss so scorching—so intimate—Willa had to look away. But she whipped her head back to the couple when Laurel’s breathless words reached her.

"Willa’s our daughter?"

"Your daughter?" Jared broke in, moving closer to her.

"Wait a minute," Kinsley piped up as she let go of Willa and put her fisted hands on her hips. "Can someone please explain what the hell is going on here?"

Willa couldn’t help but stare at the couple clinging to each other as they both looked at her, an expression of awe on their faces.

"I’m your daughter too?" It was too much. Without thought, she reached her hand out to Jared who immediately took it, then pulled her tight against his body. Neither of them said anything to acknowledge what she’d silently asked of him but having his solid warmth surrounding her was exactly what she needed. "How?"

"We were in love," Laurel said, gazing up at Russ.

"I still am," he whispered.

Laurel frowned—hurt and disappointment written on her face. "Then why did you leave?"

"Father," Hart’s near expletive provided when Russ hesitated. "I was outside his office that day."

"You were?" Russ shook his head. "I don’t remember seeing you."

Hart grinned. "I was a kid. Who notices them?" His expression hardened. "King certainly never did."

"What did he do?" Her mother looked between her brother and Willa’s father. Even saying it to herself wasn’t helping it to sink in.

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