The Cowboy's Secret Baby: BWWM Cowboy Pregnancy Romance (Young Adult First Time Billionaire Steamy African American) Read Online Free PDF Page A

office.”
    “Thanks, Stinson.” Farris sat up.  “Take a sample of Bolivia’s milk, too, if the doctor didn’t get one earlier.”  He looked over at Clarice, who was looking angelically beautiful in the dim light with Courier’s muzzle resting on her breast.  “I’m sorry to conk out on you like that. – I didn’t know you liked poetry.”
    Clarice smiled at his frowsy black hair and the little suggestion of five-o’clock shadow.  “It’s great for comforting animals – but that’s the only poem I know.  I always have to fall back on song lyrics.  All you need is a soft, soothing sound to help them psychologically.”
    “Yes, even animals heal better when they know they’re cared about.”  Farris looked up, startled.  “You know, I never thought I’d meet a woman who realized that.”  By now, Stinson had left on his errand, and his employer was ready for confidences.  “Do you know how our family came to own this breeding operation?”
    “No, is there a story behind it?” Clarice asked.  Family stories were the currency of gossip in her area, and she had rather missed them.
    “Well, it’s an old tale,” Farris replied with feigned off-handedness, “which is rather fortunate, considering all the trouble it caused. – You see, it was like this.  My Grandpa was originally the business manager of this farm; my Dad was raised in that little house over beside my private hangar.  Two Flags was owned by the Bonner family back then.  They were good folks, but Damian Bonner took a city wife.”
    “She didn’t like living out here on a large estate,” Clarice guessed.  “Transportation was kind of clunky in those days.”
    “Oh, Miss Lauren always had the latest model Packard to drive,” Farris continued.  “It just turned out that she didn’t like Mr. Damian to spend money on anything except her.  She was always carrying on at my Grandpa to find her a little more money for this or that.”
    Clarice didn’t like the way this story was heading; her mother had always been like that.  “What a damned headache,” she muttered sympathetically.  “What finally happened?”
    “I said she interfered in Grandpa’s management,” Farris’ voice was grim, “but that wasn’t the worst of the problem.  Once when Mr. Damien was out of town, Hubert’s Fortune got sick; he was one of their prize stallions, still drawing hefty covering fees.  Miss Lauren was in the business office when the stable hand reported to Grandpa. She grabbed the scissors off his desk and cut the phone cord then she ran to the house and cut her own.  Those were the only two phone lines within 20 miles in those days. Of course, Grandpa got his own old Ford and drove to the vet, but by that time it was too late.  Veterinary medicine has advanced a heap in the last 40 years.”
    “What happened when they finally contacted Mr. Bonner?”  Clarice was horrified. If Farris had grown up with this story floating around in his head, no wonder he’d always been skittish around women.
    “Grandpa made the call from the vet’s phone,” Farris explained.  “The Bonner account was good for it.  Anyway, Grandpa broke the news, and Mr. Damien was all quiet and cool about it.  He thanked Grandpa and said he’d be home in a couple of days; he was in Washington DC at the time.  The vet iced the body for burial in the animal graveyard; you’ve seen the place.  Most people thought that was the end of the matter – until Mr. Damien got home.”  Now Farris looked down at his town shoes he’d gotten all dusty in the stable.  “When Miss Lauren opened the front door, Mr. Damien shot her until he’d emptied his pistol.  Then he sat down on the porch swing and reloaded.  Then he killed himself.”
    Clarice winced.  “So how did your grandpa wind up with the estate?”             
    “Mr. Damian hadn’t wasted his time in Washington.”  Farris looked up with weary, grey eyes.  “He’d made an