“Mrs. Bridgemont—” Claire began hotly.
“Nevertheless, I think I should tell you something. It was because of Turner’s neglect of my daughter that she was at that bar the night she was killed. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his work and had been home where he belonged with his wife and child, she would certainly be alive today.”
Horrified that the woman should say such things in front of Harrie, Claire glanced anxiously at the child. Harrie appeared not to be listening. She had her nose pressed to the window and was seemingly absorbed with a brightly colored paddle steamer sailing majestically down the river.
“Mrs. Bridgemont,” Claire said, making a magnificent effort to control her voice, “I really don’t think this is the time or place for such a discussion. As you can see, Harrie is well fed and healthy, and while she might not be dressed to your standards, she is clean and tidy. Her father is doing a remarkable job, all things considered. And I have not moved in with the Mitchells. I am there while Turner is at work, and that is all.”
“And for dinner,” Harrie added, apparently unaware of the effect of her contribution.
Claire’s spirits sank further at the triumph on Mrs. Bridgemont’s face.
“I see my party has arrived,” the older woman announced as she rose to her feet. “Be sure to tell Turner hello. And tell him that no matter what games he might play, he will not escape the inevitable. I intend to sue for custody of my granddaughter. And I will most certainly get it, rest assured of that. The sooner she is out of that kind of environment, the better.”
Claire had no doubt that the environment to which she referred had nothing to do with the landscape. She watched Harrie’s grandmother smack a loud kiss on Harrie’s cheek.
“Bye-bye, my darling,” Mrs. Bridgemont murmured. “I’ll be seeing you again very soon.” With a last, icy glare at Claire, she strode off to join the two women being seated in the corner of the room.
Claire groaned and covered her eyes with her hand.
“Do you have a headache?” Harrie said, sounding sympathetic.
Lowering her hand, Claire managed a smile. “No, honey, I’m fine. Finish up your juice and we’ll go visit the zoo. We could both do with some fresh air.”
She steered Harrie out the door, conscious of Mrs. Bridgemont’s hard glare on her back. Turner would have convulsions when he heard this latest piece of news. She wasn’t looking forward to being the one to tell him, Claire thought as she unlocked her car in the parking lot. It would probably be another case of kill the messenger.
* * *
The trip to the zoo was a great success, and a tired Harrie struggled to keep her eyes open on the way home in the car. After an afternoon of tramping around the enclosures, talking to the bears, watching the elephants, riding the zoo train, eating ice cream and laughing at the monkeys, Claire felt pretty exhausted, too.
They both looked as if they’d romped with the animals, she thought ruefully as she noted Harrie’s rumpled and soiled clothes. Her own white slacks had a black streak across one knee, and melted ice cream had left a stain on her blue shirt. She’d tried to wash it out in the ladies’ room, with little success. It would just have to wait until she got home now.
Her stomach quivered a little at the thought of telling Turner about her encounter with Mrs. Bridgemont. She would have liked to leave it until the next morning, when she’d feel more like tackling the sensitive issue.
But Harrie was bound to say she’d seen her grandmother, and Claire could hardly ask the little girl to keep quiet about it until the next day.
No, Claire decided as she headed the car once more toward Coopers Landing. She would have to tell him tonight, just as soon as they got back. Then she would leave and go straight home to a shower, a light meal and bed.
That prospect seemed very inviting. She was more tired than she thought. Her gaze blurred now and again as she peered ahead in the dusk that thickened rapidly as she approached the edge of the woods and parked the car.
She had to wake up Harrie, who was sound asleep. Holding the sleepy little girl by the hand, she led her down the path to the cabin. Turner was home, she could see the lights in the windows as she approached.
She felt a tug at her heart as she thought how cozy and inviting the cabin looked. It wouldn’t be difficult to get used to this way of living. She chased the thought away almost at once. Wishful thinking, that’s all it was. And the sooner she forgot it the better.
Turner opened the door to her knock, smiling down at his yawning daughter. “Well, you two look as if you had a good time. I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you.” He reached down and picked up the little girl, who immediately snuggled her head into his shoulder.
Claire’s heart ached with tenderness. There was something about a man and his child together like that. Catching herself once more, she followed Turner into the living room. “Sorry,” she said, “I know we’re late, but it took longer than I’d figured to get around the zoo. And Harrie wouldn’t leave until she’d exchanged confidences with every living creature in the place.”
Turner grinned, his warm gaze lighting little fires all over her body. “She always did have a thing with animals. Have you had dinner?”
“Not exactly.” With a weary sigh, Claire dropped into an armchair. “But we had a huge lunch and snacked all afternoon. I for one am not hungry, but I don’t know about Harrie.”
Harrie mumbled something and shook her head against her father’s shoulder.
“I think a glass of milk, a quick wash down and bed are in order,” Turner said, smoothing his daughter’s hair back from her eyes.
Claire climbed to her feet, but he held up a hand. “I’ll do it. You look exhausted.”
“I am. I think I’ll go on home. But first there’s—”
“We saw Gran’ma today,” Harrie said clearly, blinking sleepy eyes up at her father. “At the restaurant where we had lunch. It was high up on a hill, you could see the whole—” she yawned and finished on a mumble “—city.”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you,” Claire began, then paused as Turner sent her a paralyzing look.
“And just when did you plan to tell me?” he said, his voice tight with anger.
Shocked, she stared at him for several seconds, then realization dawned. “No, wait, Turner. It wasn’t planned—”
“Really? Quite a coincidence, then, wasn’t it?”
Her heart started bumping as she looked into his stormy gaze. “Turner, she just happened to walk in there. I had no idea she was going to be there. I wouldn’t have—”
“And I trusted you,” he said bitterly. “I thought you were different.”
Fueled by her exhaustion, her anger spurted as she stared back at him. “And I thought you were too mature to jump to hasty conclusions. Apparently I was wrong.”
Harrie mumbled a protest and lifted her head.
“I think we should discuss this in the morning,” Turner said, his curt tone turning her heart to ice.
“Fine, if I decide to come back here in the morning.” Grabbing up her purse, she marched to the door. “Good night, Harrie,” she said as she pulled it open. “Sleep well, and thanks for a wonderful day.”
Harrie muttered an answer, and without looking at Turner, Claire stepped through the door and pulled it firmly behind her. As she walked rapidly down the path, she stopped to pick up a long, slender stick and let out her frustration and anger by whipping at the undergrowth with it.
How could he think for one moment that she would deliberately ignore his wishes and concerns about Harrie visiting her grandparents? While she might not agree with his views, she certainly respected them. He should know that. And to condemn her without giving her a chance to explain was unforgivable.
Flinging herself into her car a few moments later, she fought with her raging thoughts. She felt like telling him to find himself another housekeeper, since he couldn’t trust the one he had.
But that would be pu
nishing Harrie, and she couldn’t do that. She just hoped she was in a better mood when she got back there the next morning. If not, she was likely to tell him exactly what she thought of him. As it was, she couldn’t wait to set him straight on a few things.
She drove much too fast along the highway with the windows down and felt a little better by the time she arrived back at her apartment. Though by now her anger had turned into a deep ache of regret that he thought so little of her he would suspect her of betraying his wishes.
Her shower did little to ease her turmoil later, and she slept fitfully, waking up now and again throughout the night in spite of her weariness. By the morning she felt as if she’d had no sleep at all. Instead of getting up at the first sound of the alarm, she turned on her side and dozed.
She heard the telephone ringing in the living room through a haze of sleep. Realizing the recorder had not kicked on, she made an effort to rouse herself. She must have forgotten to turn it on last night, she thought. Opening one eye, she looked at the clock.
She came fully awake with a shock. It was ten minutes past eight. She should be on her way to Coopers Landing by now. Another shock winged through her when she realized it wasn’t the phone ringing, after all, but her front doorbell.
Stumbling out of bed, she reached for her satin robe, which had slipped off the bed during the night and lay in a heap on the carpet. She couldn’t imagine who was at her door at this hour, but whoever it was it sounded urgent, since the bell rang repeatedly.
She thrust her arms into the sleeves of the robe and tied it loosely about her. She couldn’t find her scuffs—they had to be under the bed somewhere—and the visitor at her door couldn’t wait for her to find them.
Barefoot, she padded down the hallway and across the living room to the door. She wished she had one of those peepholes that allowed her to see who was standing outside. But then, surely no one with any malicious intent would stand at her door in broad daylight and ring the bell for everyone to hear. Curiosity overcame anxiety, and she dragged the door open.
Turner stood on the doorstep, and his expression was enough to set her pulse racing madly in apprehension. He looked impatient, grim and very determined.
Dismayed that he would come all the way into town just to finish an argument, Claire thought about refusing to let him in. She wasn’t given a choice.
With a muttered “Good morning,” he stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him.
Shaken by his arrogance, she said the first thing that came to mind. “Where’s Harrie?”
“I dropped her off at her old day-care center. She’s helping the teachers take care of the little ones.”
Claire wanted to grin, thinking about Harrie bossing the little kids around. She’d love it. But the glint in Turner’s eyes wiped out all inclination to be amused.
“I’m not dressed,” she said quite unnecessarily, since Turner’s gaze was traveling over her flimsy robe.
Although she was covered from neck to toe, Claire felt a hot rush of embarrassment. The robe and the satin nightgown underneath clung to her figure, leaving little to the imagination. She had the urge to cross her arms over her breasts, but resisted the gesture, unwilling to draw attention to her discomfort.
If it was any consolation, Turner appeared every bit as uncomfortable as she felt. He moved away from her and sat down on her couch, looking out of place on the narrow cushions.
“Don’t mind me. I’m not staying long.”
“Why are you here? Did you feel you had to come and get me, is that it? You were afraid I wouldn’t be there to take care of Harrie today?”
She tightened the belt on her robe with a jerk. “It would serve you right if I didn’t come, after accusing me of going behind your back.”
“Claire—” He stood up. “That’s why I’m here—”
She looked at him, her eyes widening. “You don’t want me to come back? Is that it? You think you can’t trust me with Harrie anymore.”
“Wait a minute, damn it—”
“No, you wait a minute. I didn’t plan that meeting with Mrs. Bridgemont yesterday. Not that I expect you to believe that. You’re so busy jumping to conclusions you wouldn’t see the truth if it hit you on the nose.”
“Claire—”
“Look, Turner, I sympathize with your problems. You know I do. But if you can’t trust me then maybe you should find someone else.”
“Will you listen a minute—”
She was too close to tears to listen to anything. She wanted him out of there before she made a complete fool of herself. Reaching the door, she dragged it open, then spun around to face him. “So why don’t you just leave, right now, and let me get dressed.”
For a moment their gazes clashed, then with a muttered oath he strode toward her.
She expected him to charge through the door. Instead he slammed it shut again with one hand and grabbed her arm with the other. Before she could make a sound he hauled her hard against his chest and fastened his mouth over hers.
Shock held her frozen for a few seconds, while she fought against her response to the hot pressure of his kiss. Then he moved against her, and she was lost. Abandoning all her defenses, she gave herself up to the excitement of his passion and let him sweep her away to another planet.
When he finally let her go she was breathing hard and thoroughly unnerved. The little thrills of pleasure still chased up and down her spine, and her mouth tingled with the memory of his mouth on hers.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice sounding husky. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what got into me.”
She drew a trembling breath and did her best to sound composed. “It’s all right. But maybe it would be a good idea if you left now.”
“I will. But not before I tell you what I came here to say.” He paused, and she waited, wondering what was coming next.
“I know the meeting wasn’t planned, Claire. Harrie told me her gran’ma was furious with you for not telling her you were in town. I came to apologize.”
All the breath rushed out of Claire’s lungs. “Oh,” she said weakly.
“I’m sorry,” Turner muttered. “I should have listened to you last night. But then, I’m not the only one who jumps to conclusions.”
She held her hands up in appeal. “I’m sorry, too. I thought—” She broke off with a breathless laugh. “I guess we both should listen.”
“Yeah.” He frowned at her a moment longer, then his face softened, sending another stream of hot thrills chasing down her spine. “I think I’d better leave. I hope we’ll see you later at the cabin?”
She nodded, her blood still racing hot at the memory of his kiss. “As soon as I shower and get dressed. I overslept. I’m sorry.” She could hardly look at him. A pulse in her neck beat frantically against her skin. Ripples of unbridled desire came in waves, making her feel hot and cold both at once.
“I’m glad I woke you up, then.”
The words were casual enough, but the burning heat in his gaze sent an unmistakable message. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
“No problem. It’s not as if they’ll be lining up at the door. But it would help if you could pick up Harrie at the day care on your way out.”
“Of course. Where is it?”
He fished in the pocket of his shirt and came up with a business card. Handing it to her, he said, “It’s on the way out to the highway. Real easy to spot.”
Forcing herself to concentrate, she glanced at the card, disturbed to see it shaking in her fingers. “I’ll find it.” She wondered if she’d ever find anything again.
“Claire.”
She looked up, to discover his warm gaze resting on her face. “I hope you didn’t mind too much.”
She knew what he meant. Looking deep into his eyes, she said quietly, “No, I didn’t mind too much.”
“Good. I’m glad.” His gaze lingered for a few more seconds, then he turned and went quickly out the door.
&nb
sp; She stood for a long moment after he’d gone, staring dreamily at the wall. As she relived every second of that kiss, her pulse quickened again. She could still feel the impact of his hard chest crushing her breasts through the flimsy fabric of her robe.
Warmth surged low in her stomach and she drew a shaky breath. This had to stop. She couldn’t feel this way about him. About any man. If she let this go on, she knew very well where it would lead.
It couldn’t go anywhere. She would only end up hurting him and herself. He had been fully aroused when he’d pulled her close to him. He’d wanted her and must have known that she wanted him just as much.
Being in such close quarters with him in that isolated cabin was not going to help matters. And she had no wish to reach the point where she’d have to tell him she could never bear children.
She had never told anyone. It made her feel flawed, only half a woman. She couldn’t bear the thought of telling him and watching his face change, couldn’t stomach seeing the pity, the dawning understanding of what it meant.
Especially a man like Turner. It was obvious he adored his daughter. He needed to find someone who could give him more children, for Harrie’s sake as well as his own.
Regret, swift and bitter, burned in her stomach. With a determined shrug, she fought off the depression. She’d promised herself she would never give in to that again.
Even so, it was with a nagging ache in her heart that she headed out once more for Coopers Landing, longing to see him again, yet dreading it at the same time.
Somehow she would have to find a way to cool things. It wouldn’t be easy. She was very much afraid she was falling in love with Turner Mitchell. And that could only lead to disaster.
* * *
Chet Warren chose that morning to pay a second visit to the cabin. Claire had just finished putting away the lunch dishes, when she heard his friendly voice from the living room.
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