His Baby Surprise

Kathie DeNosky

The Miracle Of Birth.

No matter how many times he witnessed it, Tyler was filled with a humbling sense of wonder, as well as a twinge of regret. Since he didn’t intend to have children, he’d never have a moment like this to call his own.

This baby boy’s father was one hell of a lucky man. And the jerk wasn’t even here to realize it.

A mist clouding his eyes, Tyler examined the squirming infant. Ten fingers. Ten toes. He grinned. An impressive sprinkler system.

But as Tyler looked more closely at the boy, his smile faded and the blood drained from his face. A tiny dimple dented the infant’s chin, and a telltale cowlick at his forehead parted his thick black hair.

Ty thought back to that night in Chicago. The one and only night he and Lexi had—

He stared in awe at the miracle he held, his gut clenching as realization hit him. The resemblance was more than coincidental. It was undeniable.

Tyler Braden had just delivered his own son.

His Baby Surprise

Kathie DeNosky

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

To Wayne Jordan, for answering my endless questions.

KATHIE DENOSKY

lives in deep Southern Illinois and enjoys dining out, factory outlet malls, traveling through the southern and southwestern states and collecting Native American pottery. After reading and enjoying Silhouette Desire for many years, she is ecstatic about being able to share her stories with others as a Silhouette author. She often starts her day at 2:00 a.m. so she can write without interruption, before the rest of the family is up and about. You may write to Kathie at P.O. Box 2064, Herrin, Il 62948-5264.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

One

“What’s wrong now, Martha?” Tyler Braden asked, sighing heavily.

He picked up a patient file from the top of the well-worn counter. In the three days since his arrival in Dixie Ridge, Tennessee, Ty had learned a very important lesson about Nurse Payne. Whatever thoughts she had, she freely shared.

“Are you gonna wear your Sunday-go-to-meetin’ clothes every day of the week, Doc?”

Ty opened his lab coat to look down at his white shirt, striped tie and charcoal dress slacks. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

Martha looked at him over the top of her wire-rimmed glasses as if she thought he might be a bit simpleminded. “Around here, folks don’t get gussied up like that unless they’re gettin’ married or buried.”

Ty arched a brow. “What would you suggest I wear, Martha?”

She patted the thick, gray bun at the base of her neck—a gesture he’d quickly come to recognize as Martha’s preamble to a lecture. When she walked around the counter to stand in front of him, her gaze raking him from head to toe, he had to fight the urge to reach down and make sure his fly was closed. A quick glance south of his belt buckle assured him it was.

“First of all, you need to lose the tie and white shirt. They make you look like you’re about to choke.” Martha looked thoughtful. “Doc Fletcher wears sports shirts, but you ain’t as long in the tooth as Doc, so a T-shirt or sweater would suit you best.” She pointed to his crisply pressed slacks, the creases razor sharp. “And while you’re at it, you might want to buy yourself some jeans and save those for church.” She shrugged. “Course it’s up to you. But I’m warnin’ you. Folks around here don’t care too much for somebody puttin’ on airs.”

“But I’m not—”

“If you don’t want to know, don’t ask.” Having pronounced judgment, Martha walked back around the counter and picked up the ringing phone. “Dixie Ridge Health Clinic.”

Ty bit the inside of his cheek to keep his epithet to himself. When he’d first phoned Dr. Fletcher to discuss temporarily taking over the clinic, the older man had warned him about the crusty nurse.

“Old Martha will be your most valuable asset, but she’ll also be your worst critic. Be sure to stay on her good side.”

But mere words could never have prepared Ty for the