Protecting His Cameron Baby, page 1
“I don’t want anything from you. I can provide for this baby, take care of her by myself. You needn’t feel beholden to me on that account,” Isla said.
Evan dipped his chin, acknowledging her pronouncement. “Be that as it may, I refuse to be a negligent father. I had one, but I will not be one. I intend to be a part of this child’s life. As much as possible.”
The dismay that crossed her face clearly said this was not the response she’d been hoping for. Other men might like to be let off the hook, but Evan stayed. Evan cared. Evan wanted this child and wanted this child to know he wanted this child.
“Evan...”
“I mean it, Isla,” he said, hoping his tone struck the right balance. “I won’t let you shut me out. I have rights.”
“I know. It’s just...after what you did...” She shot him a wounded look. “You deceived me and my family and tried to—”
“I was wrong to do that. I said I was sorry.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “I’d be a fool to trust you again.”
Dear Reader,
I have loved introducing you to the Cameron family in the Cameron Glen series, and this month the youngest sister, Isla, gets her turn for happily-ever-after! Of course, trouble lurks on the path to that happy ending. This time, trouble for the Camerons comes in the form of a corrupt and vicious businessman who has his sights set on taking possession of the Camerons’ family legacy, Cameron Glen.
You met bad guy Gene Gibbs in the first book in the Cameron Glen series, Mountain Retreat Murder, and he lingered in the back of my mind through the other stories like a cloud of doom. He needed to be brought to justice! But how and by whom? Surely not Isla, the gentlest and most tenderhearted of the Cameron children. Oh, yes. Isla indeed!
Isla, a woman who loves openly and trusts indiscriminately, finds her world turned upside down when her destiny arrives in town in the form of Evan Murray, a tall, dark and handsome stranger...with a secret agenda. I hope you’ll love Isla and Evan and their roller-coaster relationship. Meanwhile, I’m cooking up more stories about the Camerons and their extended family, so stay tuned for more adventures in Cameron Glen!
Happy reading,
Beth Cornelison
PROTECTING HIS CAMERON BABY
Beth Cornelison
Beth Cornelison began working in public relations before pursuing her love of writing romance. She has won numerous honors for her work, including a nomination for the RWA RITA® Award for The Christmas Stranger. She enjoys featuring her cats (or friends’ pets) in her stories and always has another book in the pipeline! She currently lives in Louisiana with her husband, one son and three spoiled cats. Contact her via her website, bethcornelison.com.
Books by Beth Cornelison
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
Cameron Glen
Mountain Retreat Murder
Kidnapping in Cameron Glen
Cameron Mountain Rescue
Protecting His Cameron Baby
The Coltons of New York
Colton’s Undercover Seduction
The McCall Adventure Ranch
Rancher’s Deadly Reunion
Rancher’s High-Stakes Rescue
Rancher’s Covert Christmas
Rancher’s Hostage Rescue
In the Rancher’s Protection
Visit the Author Profile page at
Harlequin.com for more titles.
For Paul—always
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Excerpt from Not Without Her Child by Tara Taylor Quinn
Prologue
Seattle, Washington
The doctor’s expression was grim as he took a seat in the visitor’s chair, a file folder with printouts and X-ray film in his hand.
Seeing the frightened look on his mother’s face, Evan Murray reached for her frail hand and clasped it between his own.
“It’s bad news. Isn’t it?” Tracy Murray asked, her voice hoarse and weak after so many months of fighting this damn disease.
Dr. Pendelton drew a breath, as if for courage. “I’m afraid so. The tumor is still there. It’s grown. And...”
His mother’s hand squeezed his, and Evan could hear his own heartbeat thudding in his ears during the pregnant pause when the doctor hesitated.
“And?” Evan prompted. “Just tell us.”
“Well, we’ve run out of treatment options. As I said from the start, this type of cancer is so difficult to treat. We can do another round of the chemo, but that’s really only to slow the progression.”
Through his grip on his mother’s hand, Evan could feel the shudder that rolled through her at the prospect of enduring another course of the debilitating chemotherapy. Therapy? More like poison. His gut churned knowing the physical toll and misery the months of chemo would cost his mother.
“You don’t have to take the chemo if you don’t want to. We can shift to a pain management strategy with—”
“You mean give up?” his mother asked.
The doctor shifted on his chair. “Well, I wouldn’t call it that. But—”
“But that’s what you mean.” Evan pinned a hard look on the doctor. “By ‘pain management strategy’ what you’re saying is end-of-life care. You’re telling us her choice is another round of poison or throwing in the towel?”
Evan actually felt sorry for Dr. Pendelton. He could see the regret and—yes, grief—in the other man’s eyes. They’d been working with the doctor for so many months, they’d gotten to know the man as a friend. Evan knew this news was difficult for the man to break to them. A miserable part of his job.
“Like I said, we can do another round of chemo, but your mother will be starting from a much weaker state this time. It will be all the harder on her and might even—”
“I don’t care. I’m not a quitter.” Tracy divided a look between her only child and doctor. Determination lit her eyes. “I will do the chemo or anything else as often as necessary. I won’t give up if there’s even a grain of hope that we might find our miracle yet.”
“You’re sure?” Dr. Pendelton asked.
Evan’s throat tightened. He was so damn proud of his mother’s fighting spirit. So devastated to know what lay ahead for her. God, if only he could take the treatments for her, endure the pain, the nausea, the weakness, the hair loss, he would in a second. He had to swallow several times before he could speak. “This is really all that’s left? Clearly she’s willing to try untraditional treatments or experimental medicines or—”
Evan stopped abruptly, narrowing his gaze on the doctor. The change had been subtle and short-lived, but he’d seen something in Dr. Pendelton’s face. “What?”
Dr. Pendelton’s fingers tightened on the file folder. “Excuse me?”
Evan aimed a finger at the older man. “When I mentioned experimental treatments, your expression changed. You thought of something, didn’t you?”
The doctor sat taller and opened his mouth without saying anything. He furrowed his gray eyebrows as if debating what to say.
“Please, Dr. Pendelton, if you know of something that might help, a drug trial I could be part of, tell us. I’ll do it! I’m not afraid to try something new and unproven. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? It might kill me?” His mother laughed at the irony.
The doctor’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, here’s the deal. There is an experimental treatment, but getting approved for the trial at your stage of the disease is only the first battle. Your insurance won’t pay for it. I already had my office check. And the cost of this drug therapy is...well, astronomical. Hundreds of thousands of dollars. I read that one family’s bill was over one million dollars. I know that you’re already strapped, paying for current hospital bills, and I didn’t think you wanted to go further into debt trying something that might not work.”
“Oh,” his mother said, wilting into her pillow. “I understand. Forget it, then.”
Evan blinked, rotating on his seat to face his mother and gripping her hand more tightly. “What? No! Don’t ‘forget it.’ Mom, this might be your miracle!”
She used her free hand to pat his clutching ones. “Darling, I can’t die and leave you with an unsurmountable bill to pay. It would ruin your life!”
“Mom, you let me worry about that,” he said, his tone fierce. “If Doc can get you in the trial, I will get the money to pay for it. Somehow.”
Her expression dimmed. “Honey, thank you, but...no.” She gave a soft, wry chuckle. “My God. Where would you even get that kind of money? I won’t have you robbing a bank!”
“You let me worry about th
The doctor hesitated. “You’re certain you want to go this route? There are no guarantees it will work.”
“Evan...”
He met his mother’s eyes. “If I get the money to pay for this treatment, will you fight? Will you follow the treatment plan and stay optimistic?”
“You know I will. I’m not ready to die. I will always fight for you, my dearest boy, but the cost—”
“Then it’s settled.” Evan nodded to the doctor. “We want in that trial. Whatever it takes.”
Dr. Pendelton’s jaw tightened, and he exhaled heavily. As he stood, he said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Evan, honey, I appreciate the spirit behind your offer, but I have to reiterate my concern for you taking on so much debt. Where do you even think you’ll get that much money?” The dark circles beneath his mother’s eyes seemed all the more sunken and ominous as she held his gaze. “As much as I want to fight this illness, I don’t want to do it at your expense. Your future.”
A rock of dread settled in his gut. What had he set himself up for? Where was he going to find the kind of money he’d need to pay for the medical trial?
“I don’t know. But I’ll figure something out.”
A little voice whispered in his ear, You know who has that kind of wealth.
He chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced away. “Maybe if I told Gene about your—”
“No!” His mother’s tone was as hard and firm as he’d ever heard it.
He shifted his gaze to hers, and fire lit her blue eyes. “No, Evan. Promise me you won’t tell him anything about this. Promise me you’ll stay far away from him and his money. I swear to you, son, that man is nothing but trouble.”
Evan sighed and gritted his back teeth. “Mom, he owes you this. At a minimum. If I promise not to tell him why I need the cash, maybe—”
“Evan!” she said, cutting him off. “No! I want nothing from him. Ever. I want nothing to do with him. Ever. And I beg you to stay far away from him! He is dangerous, Evan. Dangerous! Do you hear me?”
His mother’s pleading expression and impassioned tone bore deep inside him, gutting him. His desire to appease her battled with his determination to find the funds to help heal her. She was the only parent he’d ever known and had been so instrumental in his life. She’d sacrificed so much for so many years to feed, clothe and educate him. Since the earliest days of his life, when his father walked out on them, they’d been a team, struggling and taking on life’s challenges together.
When she’d been diagnosed with cancer and needed difficult treatments, he’d taken extended personal leave from his position as a mechanical engineer in Portland and moved back to Seattle in a heartbeat to be at her side, to encourage and take care of her. The idea of losing her to this damned disease wrenched inside him, hollowed him, scared him.
He stared at their clasped hands and felt moisture fill his eyes, lead fill his gut and grief fill his heart. He couldn’t pass up any chance he had to get her the medicine, the treatment, the miracle she needed. Gene Gibbs had money, and damn it, the man owed them!
His mother jiggled his hand to draw his attention. “Evan? I mean it. Promise me you won’t go to Gene about this or anything else.”
Evan sat back in his chair, tugging his hands free from his mother’s to drag them both down over his face. His palms scraped against his three-day beard as he groaned. He hadn’t left the hospital, hadn’t shaved or showered or left his mother’s side in the three days since she’d collapsed in her kitchen and been rushed to the ER. His shoulders sagged, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Crossed his fingers.
“I promise.”
Chapter 1
Valley Haven, North Carolina
“That stuff will kill you, ya know,” Isla Cameron told her adopted brother with a grin as he filled a gigantic cup with soda at the fast-food restaurant drink station.
Sixteen-year-old Daryl raised one black eyebrow, the rest of his face stoic as he let the foam settle, then stuck the cup against the fountain lever again to top up his cup. “The sprouts you like are a breeding ground for E. coli and salmonella.”
Isla laughed. “Touché, mon frère.”
Daryl slurped his drink and headed back to their table, and she collected packets of ketchup for her French fries. Talk about something that’ll kill ya! She’d long ago sworn off most fried foods but still indulged in French fries now and then.
“Everything in moderation,” she said under her breath, quoting her favorite professor.
Turning, she reached for the napkin dispenser just as the man beside her reached for the bin of artificial sweetener packets. Their hands bumped, and Isla snatched hers back, gushing, “Oops. So sorry!”
“No. My fault. Go ahead, please,” the guy returned, gesturing for her to get what she needed.
She raised her gaze to meet his eyes with a smile, but when she saw his face, she gasped, and her stomach swooped. Before she could stop her tongue, she blurted, “It’s you!”
He gave her a puzzled look. “Um, yeah. It’s me. But who do you think I am?”
Her body hummed with surprise...and recognition. The satisfaction and confidence of knowing her instincts, her premonition, her...whatever this sixth sense of hers was...had been right again. She’d known she’d meet him today, and now...here he was. But what did she do about it?
At the moment, he was still staring at her with his soul-awakening dark eyes, waiting for an answer. With a wince, she waved him off. “If I told you, you’d think I was nuts.”
“Well,” he said and smiled as he took several pink packets and dumped them on his tray, “unless you think I’m a road-weary visitor from out of state, then you’ve got me confused with someone else.”
He had a dimple in his cheek, an adorable dimple that softened the rugged cut of his square jaw and angular cheekbones.
“Mmm, right.”
His dark hair was cut in a neat style of a businessman, and although his smile put a certain twinkle in his chocolate gaze, the stress lines around his mouth and eyes spoke of a recent heartache more than simple travel fatigue. In her chest, a twang of sympathy twisted. She longed to offer him some comfort, but again had to bite back the impulse. As far as he knew, she was just a random stranger who’d bumped into him at the local burger joint. “Out of state, huh? Where are you from?”
“Seattle. Well, Portland really, but...long story.” He stirred his drink with his straw and turned as if to leave. Then hesitated. “If you’re local, maybe you could recommend a place where I could stay for a couple nights while I’m in the area?”
“You don’t have a reservation?” Isla asked in dismay. When he shook his head, she cringed. “Oh. That’s unfortunate. Being the peak of the fall colors, this is just about the busiest tourist time of the year around here. You’ll be lucky to score a room anywhere, short of a last-minute cancellation. My family’s cabins have been sold out since this time last year.”
He twisted his mouth in consternation. “I was afraid of that.”
She thought of the bedroom in her own house that had been vacant since her sister Cait married and moved out. You can’t invite him to stay with you. He’s a complete stranger, her worldly voice said.
But he couldn’t be dangerous if he was the man she was meant to be with. And, of that, she was certain. The dream, the hum in her veins as she looked in his eyes, the peace that filled her spirit as she stood here with him. Why not help him out?
Because women in today’s world simply didn’t invite men they’ve just met to move into their homes.
Patience, Isla. You’ve met him. Now fate will take care of the rest.
“But...” she said, stopping him as he nodded his thanks and started to move away, “you could try the Valley Hideaway Motel. I know it doesn’t look like much from the outside, and the rooms are pretty spartan, but the beds are clean and rent is cheap. I know the owner, and she runs a tight ship.”
“Valley Hideaway. Good to know. Thanks.” Again he turned away, and after glancing out the restaurant’s large window toward the street, faced her once more.
