The Heir

by Joanne Rock

  Desmond watched her, the muscle in his jaw flexing. She hadn’t made up her mind that Matthew was Zach’s son, but she couldn’t deny the evidence in favor of Zach as the father was strong. She knew for a fact that Lana and Zach had spent time together before she’d started working as a student teacher at his school. The fact that Lana had kept his artwork was telling, as was Zach’s mentor offering anonymous support for the boy after Zach’s death. Add to that the realization that Lana had left town distraught, at the same time Zach had gone on that horseback riding trip, also extremely upset, which strongly hinted at a falling-out between them.

  When Desmond finally spoke, his words were slow. Deliberate. “I promise you, if Matthew is Zach’s son, I will move heaven and earth to be sure he’s well provided for.”

  Everything in Desmond’s voice and his manner echoed his sincerity. But the commitment brought her back to another fear that had never gone away since she’d set foot in Montana. Would the powerful men of Mesa Falls use their influence to somehow supplant her in Matthew’s life?

  “Thank you.” She appreciated his promise, the first and only time anyone had offered her tangible help in her sudden role as a parent. “I’m grateful for that. Just as long as you agree to recognize my rights as his acting parent.”

  The small smile he gave her was a sad one. “Of course. After my childhood, I have no aspirations to fatherhood, believe me.”

  They spoke a little longer about the next steps in potentially proving Matthew was Zach’s child. Nicole would contact the California Department of Social Services to request information about Zach’s relatives in order to obtain a DNA sample that would legally prove paternity. Desmond agreed to retain a lawyer to help her with a claim since Alec’s gaming empire was worth a fortune, an expense Desmond insisted on bearing since Zach was his friend. But by the time she left his house to show the sketchbook to Chiara, the only thing on her mind was Desmond’s assurance that he would never be a father.

  It shouldn’t be any of her business.

  Yet telling herself that didn’t ease the hurt she felt for him and the painful past he’d admitted. She’d be willing to bet he didn’t share that part of himself easily. Or often.

  Having him trust her with that part of himself made her feel closer, more connected to him. Although knowing that he wanted no part of family life put him farther out of her reach than ever.

  Nine

  Nicole met Chiara and Elena at Gage’s house on the Mesa Falls property.

  The women gathered around a table in Elena’s studio, a workspace in progress that Gage had helped design for her new career in fashion design. Dark hardwood floors and neutral walls scaled up to the cathedral ceilings, broken only by tall windows and a huge skylight to increase the natural light. Architectural salvage pieces—old doors and window frames of various sizes—stood against one wall waiting to be incorporated into the room. The only finished section was a reading nook with a faux-fur chaise lounge surrounded by built-in bookshelves.

  While Elena and Chiara flipped through the sketchbook, Nicole admired the aesthetic of the work space, along with the obvious care and thought that went behind it. Her home office amounted to a corner of her living room where she’d stationed a consignment-shop table to hold her laptop and her drawing supplies for when she wanted to create by hand. How much more productive might she be with this kind of inspiration and room to work? She was busy imagining where she’d place an easel to paint when Chiara’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “There’s not a single doubt in my mind that this is Zach’s sketchbook,” the social media star announced after she’d been reviewing the book for about ten minutes. Her long dark hair pooled on the table as she bent over the pages. “And every one of Alec’s trademarked game characters is in here—years before his game came out. So if you prove that Zach is Matthew’s father, you’ll also have legal grounds for suing Alec for stealing intellectual property from Zach’s heir. If you end up needing me to testify that this is Zach’s work, I will do so gladly.”

  That all sounded so far in the future given that she hadn’t even confirmed Zach was her nephew’s father yet. But she was touched that Chiara was willing to go on record about the creator of the sketches. Desmond would be hiring an attorney for her paternity claim, and Nicole had already contacted Social Services in between her stop at Desmond’s place and Gage’s.

  “I appreciate that.” Nicole joined them at the table where a stylized sketch of an owl in flight filled the page. “Do you mind sharing what makes you so certain that this is Zach’s work?”

  In the pocket of her skirt her phone vibrated, but she ignored it to focus on whatever Chiara had discovered.

  “His name on the cover, for one thing.” Chiara flipped to the front of the sketchbook, her black-and-white-striped nail art a contrast with the simple brown cover.

  “But there’s no handwriting anywhere.” Frowning, Nicole scanned the few doodles around the bottom edge, searching for hidden letters.

  “See these dots and dashes?” Chiara ran her index finger along the top edge of a geometric border drawn in shaded triangles.

  “Morse code,” Elena announced, spinning the book so she had a better angle on the pattern of dots and dashes. “My father taught it to me when we were camping in the desert, only we used a flashlight to communicate with it—pulsing the light on and off.”

  “Seriously?” Nicole wondered if she could have missed it in other drawings. The possibility made her want to review all the other sketches more carefully. “How did you know Zach used that?”

  Her phone vibrated again, and she squeezed it to shut off notifications for now.

  “He liked the idea of incorporating letters and symbols into graphic patterns.” Chiara sketched a squiggle on a piece of notebook paper nearby while she spoke. “He showed me some things he wrote with Chinese characters and Sanskrit the summer we took an art class together. And once, he used Morse code in the scales of a snake he painted. Sort of like this.” She twisted her sketch toward Nicole so she could see the lines on the snake’s back were actually a series of dots and dashes.

  While Nicole’s gaze went from the note paper to the sketchbook, Elena brought up the Morse code alphabet on her phone.

  “Look at this.” Elena held it above the cover of Zach’s collected sketches. “Here’s the Z. Two dashes and two dots.”

  Excitement knotted up with apprehension at the chance of confirming the identity of Matthew’s father. The notebook didn’t prove it, of course, but it was one more piece of evidence that underscored the importance of Lana’s relationship with Zach. She’d kept his drawings all her life, and carefully framed one of them to hang in Matthew’s nursery. The picture remained in the boy’s room even now. Proving for certain who fathered her nephew would be a huge worry relieved. And while Nicole regretted that Matthew would never have the chance to get to know his dad, at least his father wouldn’t be a giant question mark in the boy’s mind. Zach’s friends all mourned him deeply. That said a lot about his character.

  After everything Desmond had confided about his friend, Nicole couldn’t imagine Zach had been consumed by despair when he’d jumped into the river that day. His death was an accident. Desmond believed that. And she trusted his instincts.

  About that, at least. She wasn’t so sure about his instincts where she was concerned. Seeing him just now had stirred up the attraction and—if she was being honest—feelings, too. She closed her eyes briefly to block out those thoughts and focus on why she was here. Finding answers about her nephew so she could return home.

  “Mattie will enjoy the puzzle of the Morse code,” Nicole remarked aloud, recalling the way his mind worked. “He’ll think that’s very cool when I show him the sketchbook.” Then, another thought occurred to her as she addressed Chiara. “Did Zach ever mention being on the spectrum?”

  “Not to me. And if Miles or any
of his friends had thought so, I’m sure they would have mentioned it once they knew about your nephew.” Chiara straightened from the table and stretched her arms over her head as if to work out a kink in her back from bending. “But if you can prove paternity, the Department of Social Services will have to share any medical records relevant to Matthew’s health. They might be able to tell you if Zach was ever tested.”

  “At least I know they shared one trait in common.” Nicole withdrew her phone to check her messages. “Matthew is artistic, too. He loves to draw.”

  Glancing down at her device, she saw the calls had been from Desmond.

  “Does he really?” Chiara asked, her gaze as warm and inviting as her tone. “I hope we get to meet him one day. Whatever happens with the paternity case, Nicole, he already feels like Zach’s family to me.”

  The kindness in the sentiment tugged at her, distracting her from whatever reason Desmond had phoned her. She wanted more of a sense of family for Matthew. He’d grown up without a father, and now his mother was gone, too. His grandfather—who’d always been close to him—was still reeling from losing his daughter. How nice would it be to introduce Matthew to someone like Chiara, who’d known the man who was, in all likelihood, his father. To hear stories about his father from someone who’d known him. Like Chiara.

  Also like Desmond, a troublemaking portion of her brain insisted on reminding her. But just because Matthew would like Desmond didn’t mean she should introduce them. Desmond had made it clear he wasn’t interested in children. And even if he might be interested in a boy who wasn’t his child, that didn’t make him a good bet for being around a teen who needed stable, consistent figures in his life.

  But before Nicole could tell Chiara how much her kindness meant to her, a sharp rap sounded on the door to Elena’s workspace.

  “Elena?” Gage stood in the open door, his knock apparently more of a courtesy than a formality as he stepped just over the threshold. “Sorry to interrupt, love, but I thought you should know I just heard from Desmond.” The New Zealander’s gaze shifted to Nicole. “He tried to reach you first, Nicole. He wanted you to know he received a message from Vivian Fraser’s attorney.”

  Chiara drew in a sharp breath. “That’s Alec’s assistant,” she reminded Nicole. “The one who hacked my social media and tried to silence me in my search for answers about Zach.”

  Nicole recalled all too well why Desmond had Alec followed. He didn’t believe Vivian acted alone. “What did she want?”

  Gage walked deeper into the room, looping an arm around Elena’s shoulders as he spoke. “Vivian claims she has new information about both Alec and Zach, but she won’t talk to police unless Matthew Cruz’s guardian is present.”

  Uneasy, Nicole went still, unsure what her next move should be. Could the woman know the relationship between Zach and Matthew when no one else had? Or had Alec known all along and purposely kept it hidden to deny Matthew his rights and potential inheritance as Zach’s heir? “Maybe Vivian isn’t pleased her former lover is leaving the country without her. Perhaps she’s ready to share more about his scheme to deny Matthew the legacy and inheritance that should have belonged to his father.”

  Chiara asked, “Is Vivian still being held in Tahoe?”

  “Yes.” Gage tucked Elena even closer as he spoke, a swirl of dark tattoos around his wrist visible as his shirtsleeve rode higher on his arm. “Nicole, Desmond said he already called our pilot. If you want to meet with Vivian, Desmond dispatched a car to pick you up here and take you to the airport.”

  His words broke through her uncertainty, reminding her of her only objective in Montana—to find Matthew’s father. If that meant leaving Mesa Falls, she would. With or without Desmond. And since Desmond had made no mention of joining her, she couldn’t imagine that he would. Which made sense since it was her quest, not his.

  Although she couldn’t deny a spike of envy for the obvious support a couple like Gage and Elena were able to give to one another. Seeing the comfort they took just from touching triggered a whole host of memories and emotions for what she’d shared with Desmond.

  It hadn’t been the same, of course. Desmond had made it clear that their time together had been an isolated incident. Something they didn’t carry back into their day-to-day lives. In theory, she appreciated that. But since then, she couldn’t deny she’d thought of him often. Wondered about the possibility of being with him that way again.

  Realizing the others stood around her, no doubt waiting for her reaction, Nicole scooped up the sketchbook.

  “I need to find out what she knows,” she murmured, tucking the book under her arm. “Thank you for everything. Your welcome and support mean a lot to me.”

  Elena stepped forward to wrap her in a quick hug. “Good luck, Nicole. Let us know if we can help.”

  Touched, Nicole hugged her back, letting Elena’s lavender fragrance and good wishes surround her. “Thank you.”

  No sooner had Elena stepped back than Chiara followed suit, hugging Nicole. “You’ll be back here soon with Matthew, I hope,” Chiara reminded her. “Or I’ll come to you if that’s easier. I can’t wait to meet him.”

  Nicole thanked her, too, and let Gage accompany her to his front door. Outside, a car was already waiting for her, a uniformed driver standing in the driveway near the rear of the sleek black SUV with heavily tinted windows.

  She would text Desmond once she was inside to let him know she’d received his message and would gladly accept his offer of the flight to Tahoe. Although maybe a little part of her was hurt that he was so efficiently facilitating her speedy exit from Mesa Falls. Was he so eager for her to be out of his life? A tender part of her heart resented that he didn’t want the complications of a child. What use would she have ever had for a man without room for Mattie in his heart?

  Indignant, she greeted the driver with a nod as he opened the rear door of the SUV while a cold wind whipped off the nearby mountains.

  She stepped up into the warm interior, the scent of expensive leather tickling her nose as she took her seat and withdrew her phone to text Desmond. The door shut behind her at the same time the front partition window lowered with an electronic hum.

  Glancing up at the sound, she realized two things simultaneously. First, that the driver was still outside the vehicle swiping snow from the hood.

  Second, that Desmond sat in the passenger seat. The sight of him seemed to flip an invisible switch inside her, lighting up all her nerve endings.

  He held his phone in one hand as he pivoted to look at her over one broad shoulder.

  “I’m finishing up some business before the flight and didn’t want to bother you if you had your own calls to make. Do you want to stop at the main lodge before we take off?” He must have told his caller to hold, as he directed all his attention to Nicole while he waited for her to answer.

  She suppressed a shiver of awareness, resenting the tangible physical reaction she felt around him. Especially when her focus should be on this new development in her quest to find Mattie’s father. But there was no denying Desmond’s attentiveness—from arranging the flight to anticipating her desire to leave as soon as possible—stirred her as much as the thought that he planned to join her.

  “Yes, please. I’d appreciate a stop at the lodge for my things.” She cleared her throat to try and banish the smoky sound of her voice before she continued, “I take it you’re...going to fly to Tahoe with me?”

  “I have every intention of hearing what Vivian has to say. I want answers as much as you do, Nicole.” His gray eyes turned the molten silver shade she remembered from their time together. “Assuming you don’t mind if I join you?”

  She opened her lips to speak, but her mouth had gone dry at the idea of them spending more time together. Alone. She settled for a nod.

  No doubt Desmond read her thoughts, because there was an answering heat in his gaze.
But thankfully, their driver returned to put the SUV in gear and start their trip, allowing Nicole to hide her suddenly warm cheeks as she ducked to look at her phone.

  * * *

  Desmond gave Nicole space on the flight to Tahoe.

  He’d purposely taken a seat on the opposite side of the aisle from her in the private jet. Although they were facing one another, they each had their own worktable to spread out their things during the flight. He’d sensed her confusion—and, yes, her reaction to him—in the car ride on the way to the airport. He didn’t want to press her if she was feeling unsure about their time together. Hell, she wasn’t alone in the confusion or the attraction.

  Ever since the heat had overtaken them in the tree house, Desmond had questioned himself about letting things spiral out of control. But he was also very aware of her every time they were in the same room. And trying to ignore their chemistry was an exercise in futility. If anything, the distance he’d attempted to put between them had only intensified the draw. Or maybe it was intensified because now he knew what it was like to be with her.

  In the seat opposite him, Nicole powered off her tablet and tucked it into its neoprene sleeve. When they’d stopped at the main lodge before the flight, she’d changed into a simple black knit dress with boots and a pale beige tweed blazer for travel. The rich color of her hair seemed all the more vibrant against the neutral colors.

  “How much longer until we land?” she asked, running a finger under her gold watchband to adjust the position on her wrist.

  He glanced at his phone before leaning back in his seat. “Less than thirty minutes.”

  “Do you have any guesses what Vivian could want?” She switched from fiddling with her watch to flipping the oval pendant she wore around her neck on a long gold chain. “Or why she’s suddenly decided to reveal more than when she was first arrested?”