by Diana Palmer
“Put him down, Worth,” she said with a quiver in her voice.
Worth did as he was told.
Pointing at her son, Molly added, “You go straight to your room and wash up. I’ll be there shortly.”
Trent hung his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Go. I’ll be watching until you get inside.”
As if glad to be away from his mother’s wrath for a few minutes at least, Trent took off in a dead run.
Once he disappeared into the house, a heavy silence fell over the barn.
Worth was the first to break it. “You’re pissed, and I don’t blame you.”
“Pissed is too mild for what I am.” Her voice dripped with icicles.
“He’s okay, Molly. Besides, he’s a kid, a boy. They try daring things like that.”
“Don’t you dare tell me about kids. Especially mine.”
“Well, excuse me.” His hands clenched. “I told you I was sorry. What more do you want?”
“I don’t want anything. Your behavior just proves that your word is as worthless now as it was when you asked me to marry you five years ago.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I think we’re past the pretend stage, don’t you?”
“If you have something to say, then spit it out, ‘cause I still don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Your parents.”
“What about my parents?”
“Are you saying you didn’t send them to me to try and buy me off?”
Worth rocked back on his heels as though she’d sucker punched him in the gut. “I didn’t send them anywhere, and certainly not to talk to you.”
“You told me you loved me and wanted to marry me, only to then back out.”
“I did no such thing. You’re the one who lost your nerve and ran off like a scalded dog.”
“Only because of your parents. After they came to me and expressed your feelings, telling me that you didn’t love me, but didn’t want to tell me for fear of hurting me worse.”
Worth’s expression turned dark as a thunder cloud.
“Oh, and to further insult me,” Molly drilled, “your parents offered me money, lots of money, to get lost.”
“That’s a lie. You’re making all this up to appease your conscience. My parents wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” Molly retorted hotly.
“For God’s sake, Molly—”
“Ask them.” Her gaze, filled with disdain, wandered over him. “If you’ve got the guts, that is.”
Eighteen
“Son, what a delight,” Ted said, opening the door wide enough for Worth to stride through. “You’re just in time. Supper will be ready in a few minutes.”
“I don’t—” Worth never got the rest of the words out, as his mother came around the corner into the living room, a smile on her face.
“What a nice surprise, darling.” Eva gestured toward the plush leather sofa near the gas-burning fireplace. “Have a seat,” she added with a wink. “I have a feeling you’ve come to tell us something that will call for a celebration. What can I get you to drink?”
“Nothing, Mother. Please, just sit down and stop talking.”
Eva put a hand to her throat. “Why, that’s not a very nice way to talk to your mother.”
Worth cut his eyes to his father who no longer had that warm look on his face. In fact, his features appeared rather grim, as if he sensed something was terribly wrong. “You, too, Dad. Sit.”
Eva’s eyes widened. “What on earth is wrong with you? You’re acting so unlike yourself.” Her frustration and anger seemed to be gaining speed. “You can’t just come in here and order us around. This is our house.”
“Mother,” Worth hissed, “be quiet.”
Eva sounded as though she might strangle trying to get further words out of her mouth. Then Ted glanced at her and shook his head, frowning.
Worth watched his mother toss him a go-to-hell look, but she didn’t say anything else, thank God. Though she was his mother, he was as close to choking her as he’d ever been in his life.
That was not good, but his fury factor was off the charts, although he was trying his best to keep his emotions under wraps. After all, Molly could be lying to cover her own skin, but his gut told him that wasn’t so. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have demanded he face his parents.
Besides, he’d reached the end of his rope, and there was nowhere else to go, or anyone else to rescue him—except himself.
“I guess you’re not running for office, son,” Ted finally said into the uncomfortable silence.
“The election’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here,” Eva demanded in a cold voice, “especially with that mean attitude?” She grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her eyes.
Worth rolled his. “Spare me, Mother, you’re mad not sad.”
“Stop talking to me like that, Worth Cavanaugh. I’ve taught you to have respect for your elders, especially your parents. What on earth have we done to make you look at us like you despise us?”
“Does the word Molly give you a clue?”
“What about her, son?” Ted asked in a guarded voice.
“Oh, please,” Eva put in with added dramatics. “Do we have to talk about her?”
Worth didn’t mince any words. “As a matter of fact we do.”
“What then?” Eva demanded in a resigned, but sharp tone.
“Did you two have a conversation with her before she left that summer?”
The room got funeral-home quiet.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eva finally said in her lofty tone. “We had several conversations with that girl.”
Worth’s ire rose, but when he spoke he still held onto his cool. “That girl, as you call her, was my fiancée.”
“Oh, Worth, for crying out loud.” Eva flapped a hand with perfectly manicured nails. “She was just your play toy and we knew it.”
Worth clenched his teeth, reminding himself that she was his mother, though at the moment he wished he’d never been born to these two selfish snobs.
He couldn’t change that, of course. What he could change was the here and now. And the future. No more messing around with his life.
“Did you talk to her?” Worth asked again, his gaze including both of them. “And don’t lie to me, either.”
Eva whipped her head around to Ted who actually looked like all the blood had drained from his face. Worth watched him nod to his wife.
She in turn, faced Worth, her lips stretched in an unbecoming tight line at the same time her eyes sparked. “Yes, we talked to her.”
“What did you tell her?” Worth stood and loomed over them. “The exact words.”
“Will you please sit down?” Eva asked, clasping her hands together in her lap. “You look like a panther about to pounce, and frankly, that makes me nervous.”
“Mother!”
“All right.” She raised her eyes to Worth. “We told her you didn’t really love her, and that you didn’t want to marry her.”
An expletive shot out of Worth’s mouth.
Eva’s head flared back, and she glared at him. However, she seemed to know better than to reprimand him.
“Go on.” Worth could hardly get the words through his lips; they were so stiff and his mouth so dry.
“Well, we told her she wasn’t good enough for you, but that you didn’t want to tell her yourself, so you asked us to do it.”
Another string of expletives followed.
Both Eva and Ted sucked in their breaths and held them, staring at him as though their son had suddenly turned into some kind of monster they didn’t recognize.
“We … we thought we were doing what was best for you,” Eva said in a tearful voice. “We didn’t think she was good enough—”
“Your mother’s right,” Ted chimed in. “We thought we had your best interest—”
“Shut up!
Both of you.”
Eva’s and Ted’s mouths dropped open, but they shut up.
Worth leaned in further and spoke in a low, harsh tone. “I loved Molly and intended to marry her. As a result of what you did, you’ve cost us five miserable years, and the two of you ought to be horsewhipped.”
“My God, Worth,” Eva cried. “Listen to what you’re saying.”
He paid her plaintive cry and words no mind. “But because you’re my parents, I hope I can find it in my heart to forgive you. Only not now. I don’t want to see either of you, so stay away from me, you hear?”
He turned, strode to the door and slammed it behind him with such force, he figured he shattered the expensive glass. So what? He’d never felt better in his life. Yet he still had a major task in front of him.
Molly.
Despite the chill in the air, sweat broke out on his forehead and his knees threatened to buckle. He had to find Molly and make things right.
“Mama?”
Maxine smiled and patted Molly’s hand. “You haven’t called me that in a long time. Usually it means you’re upset about something.”
Molly pulled at the sheet on her mother’s bed and finally looked her in the eye. “It’s time I left.”
Maxine frowned. “That’s fine, honey. I’m so much better. In fact, I was thinking about—”
“No. The deal is this. Only if you let me hire a private nurse will I leave.”
“I don’t need one. I already have a therapist.”
“With me gone, you need both. And Worth needs to hire another temporary housekeeper. You have to tell him that. He’ll do it for you.”
Maxine blew out a frustrated breath. “I sure reared a stubborn child.”
“That you did. Those shots in your back, combined with physical therapy, have done wonders. You’ve made tremendous progress. It’s just a matter of time until you’ll be your old self.”
“Only I’m not quite there yet, right?” Maxine asked with raised brows.
“Not quite.”
“While I can hardly bear the thought of you and Trent leaving, you know I understand. On second thought, maybe I don’t.”
“I just need to get back to the office.”
“I think there’s more to it than that,” Maxine said, then paused. “It’s Worth, isn’t it?”
Molly could only nod; her throat was too full to speak.
“If he hurt you again, I’ll strangle him myself.”
“It’s okay. It’s just time for Trent and me to leave. You love it here. Worth loves you, and I don’t want to mess that up.”
“I still say you two should’ve married.”
“Well, it’s too late for that now,” Molly said bitterly.
“It’s never too late for happiness, my dear. If it’s pride we’re talking about here, then let it go. It can bring down the biggest and strongest.”
“Mama.”
Maxine held up her hand. “I’ll say no more. When you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen. Nothing you’ve ever done, or could ever do, is unforgivable in my sight. Remember that. I love you more than life itself.”
“Oh, Mama,” Molly sobbed, leaning over and holding her mother close. “You’re my rock and always have been. Maybe it’s time I shared my heart.”
Maxine reached up and trapped a tear running down her daughter’s cheek. “I’m listening, my sweet.”
Holding tightly to her mother’s hand, Molly began to talk.
She was all packed and ready to go.
Yet she hadn’t called Trent. She hadn’t had the heart to do so yet as he and Tammy were somewhere on the grounds, running and playing.
She had just walked out on the porch, searching for fresh air that would hopefully calm her nerves, when she heard a knock on the door. She didn’t bother to turn around.
“It’s open.”
When no one said anything, she made her way back inside. Worth stood leaning against the door frame. Her stomach did its usual thing, and the saliva in her mouth dried up.
“I know I’m the last person you want to see,” Worth exclaimed, his gaze zeroing in on the bags on the floor.
“That’s right,” she said, feeling goose bumps dance up and down her skin.
“I spoke with my parents.”
She merely shrugged.
“You were right.”
His face seemed to have sunk so that its bones took on new prominence and his voice had a crack in it. That was when she met his tormented gaze head-on.
It was in that moment that Molly knew she still loved him, that she had never stopped and that she would love him until the day she died.
“I’m so sorry they interfered,” Worth said, tilting his head as though to keep it above water. “You’ve got to believe I had no idea any of that garbage had gone on behind my back.”
Suddenly a ray of hope burst through the dead spot in Molly’s heart, and she saw the possibility of swallowing her pride, like her mother said, and starting anew. If he were willing, that is.
“But that doesn’t excuse what you did, Molly.”
In one instant, Worth brutally dashed that ray of hope. “And just what did I do?”
“When you left me, you obviously married the first guy you met and screwed his brains out.”
For the longest time Molly couldn’t speak. The pain and humiliation were so severe, it put a vise on her throat. Finally, though, she rallied and spat, “How dare you say a thing like that to me? Have you no shame?”
“Tell me it isn’t true.” Worth’s tone remained unrelenting. “And I’ll take it back.”
“Of course, it’s not true.”
His features contorted. “Then, dammit, what is the truth?”
Almost choking on her words, Molly lashed back, “I never married. I made up that story for my and Trent’s protection.”
“Okay, so you never married. You just screwed his brains out!”
“No, I didn’t!” Molly cried out in fury.
“Well, you obviously let someone have your body,” Worth said with a sneer.
Molly felt her fury rise to a new level. How could the man she loved say such awful things to her? She felt her face heat as words came screaming from her mouth. “No man has ever touched me but you!”
God, how could she have said that? She clasped her hands over her mouth to stop a wail from escaping. Molly knew the answer, and it made her sick at heart and sick to her stomach. She had been goaded into revealing the one secret she had sworn to take to her grave. But words, like arrows, once released, could never be recalled. The damage had been done.
Standing stonelike, she watched Worth’s face as her words sank in. A myriad of emotions crossed it, none of which she could read. Was he already planning how he was going to rip Trent out of her arms and claim him as his own? With his money and power, Worth certainly had the means and power to do so.
Molly grasped her stomach, giving in to the fear that stampeded through her.
Worth, meanwhile, crossed the room with lighting speed, grabbed her arm and demanded in a raspy voice, “Did you say what I think you said?”
She could only stare at him, searching frantically for the words to right a wrong. She could deny what she’d said, or she could remain mute and let her words speak for themselves.
“God, Molly, please tell me. Is Trent my son?” Worth moaned softly. “But even if he isn’t, it doesn’t matter. I don’t think I can live a moment longer without you.”
Without thought, Molly’s hands came up, encased his face and delved deeply into his eyes. “We—Trent and I come as a package deal,” she murmured around the tears clogging her throat.
“So, he is my son,” Worth said, his voice husky with emotion.
“Yes,” Molly whispered. “Trent’s your son.”
He rocked back on his heels, his breath coming in heaves.
Molly instinctively reached out a hand. “Worth?”
Worth clasped her hand and said, “Trent’s really mine?�
�� This time awe filled his voice and tears filled his eyes.
She pulled back and peered into his contorted features. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Oh, God, Molly, I can’t believe that.”
“Do you hate me for not telling you?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I could never hate you for anything,” he said fiercely. “I love you too much. In fact, you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
“And you’re the only man I’ve ever loved,” she replied breathlessly.
“Molly …” He pulled her into his arms and simply held her for the longest, sweetest time. Then peering down at her, he said, “I want you. I need you. But most of all I love you, and I’ll never let you go again.”
He kissed her, then, so hard, so long, and so deep and held her so tightly, she couldn’t tell whose heartbeat was whose. It didn’t matter; in that moment they became one.
One Year Later
“Oh, yes, Molly, don’t stop.”
“As if I would,” she whispered, atop Worth, continuing to ride him, slowly, then faster, until they climaxed simultaneously.
Exhausted, she fell onto his chest, hearing their hearts beat as one.
Moments later, Worth maneuvered so that he could get to her lips, giving her a long, tender kiss. Only he didn’t stop there; he lifted her a little more and put those lips to one breast, then the other, and sucked.
“Ohh,” Molly whispered. “You’re about to get something started again.”
Worth chuckled at the same time he rolled her over so that she was now under him. “That’s my intention.”
“But it’s so soon,” Molly pointed out with an answering chuckle. “You … we just came.”
“I know, but don’t you feel him growing, even as I’m speaking?”
Molly merely sighed and placed her arms around him. For the longest time thereafter, the room was quiet except for their moans.
A short time later, they faced each other satisfied, but worn out from their marathon evening of lovemaking.
“So, Mrs. Cavanaugh, how was your day?” Worth asked in a husky tone, his eyes still a bit glazed over with passion.
“Good, Mr. Cavanaugh. How was yours?”
“Busy as hell.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”