“Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting the past,” Garrett retorted. “You’re supposed to learn from your mistakes. That’s what I did, I learned.”
His voice was knotted with stress and bitterness, and in his eyes she saw pure misery. It sliced through to her marrow. She yearned to reach out to him, heal him, but she knew now she’d been wrong to ever think she could.
The only person who could heal Garrett was Garrett. It had been wrong for her to think she could heal another person, wrong for her to even try.
“You learned that putting your love and trust into someone else’s hands is a risk,” she said softly. “So now you keep all your love and trust locked up inside, just like Walter. Do you really want to end up like him, old and alone?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped.
She stared at him, unable to resist one last appeal. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t have any business telling you what you need. But I know what I need, what I want.”
Moisture stung at her eyes. She bit down on her lip, determined not to cry. Not yet, anyway.
“I want love,” she told him. “And I want trust. I want all those feelings you think belong in fairy tales, and I won’t settle for less. I don’t think you can give me any of that—ever. I won’t stand in the way of your seeing Dalton, but I don’t think there’s any point in our continuing to explore a relationship between the two of us. Is there?”
Silence crackled between them. Garrett gazed at her in astonishment. From the time he’d first met Lanie, he’d longed to understand what she wanted. But now that he did, he realized it was too much.
She wanted all those deep, frightening emotions inside his heart—and she wanted them exposed, laid out like an open book.
He would walk away before he gave anyone that kind of power again.
“I guess not,” he answered her grimly. He used a fresh burst of frustration to propel him as he whipped around and marched back to his car. He turned the key in the ignition and the car roared to life. The tires screeched as he peeled away from the curb.
Lanie was taking a lunch break from house painting when the phone rang. She was watching a soap opera in the den while she ate her sandwich. Dalton lay on a blanket at her feet, gurgling and stretching his arms and legs. She switched off the sound on the TV with the remote control, her heartbeat doing an immediate nervous skitter at the sound of Garrett’s voice on the line. Hurt coiled around her stomach.
She’d been telling herself that everything had turned out for the best, that if Garrett wasn’t truly ready to move on, it was just as well she found out now. And she’d been telling herself that time would fade the pain.
But though she was still certain the first pronouncement was true, she knew now that the second one wasn’t. His voice brought the pain back at full power despite the two weeks that had elapsed since their confrontation.
He didn’t take time for pleasantries, went straight to the point.
“Walter’s in the hospital.”
Lanie gasped. “What happened?”
“He had a heart attack.” Garrett’s words were cold, clipped.
“I’m sorry,” she said automatically but sincerely. Walter was Dalton’s grandfather, no matter what She’d never wished the old man ill.
There was a part of her that still hoped she could find a way to bring Dalton and Walter together, a way that wouldn’t feel so threatening. She realized with a shock that she’d always assumed there would be plenty of time for that.
Maybe she’d been wrong.
“How is he?” she asked quickly. “Is he going to be all right?”
“He needs surgery. But he’s insisting on one thing first. He wants to see Dalton.”
Lanie drew in another gasp, conflicted emotions rushing through her. She felt terrible that Walter was ill. But at the same time it seemed as if he was using the crisis to make yet another of his demands, and it made her angry—because this demand she couldn’t refuse.
And that was what Walter was counting on. He finally had her cornered. She’d wanted to bring Dalton and his grandfather together eventually, but she’d wanted it to be on her own terms.
“How serious is the surgery?” she asked with a tentative voice.
“It’s surgery, Lanie. It’s serious. It’s a bypass operation.”
She was silent for a long stretch of time.
“All right,” she said at last. “I’ll bring Dalton. Tell me what hospital, what floor to meet you on, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Garrett gave her the information and abruptly hung up the phone.
Lanie set the phone down and stared at it for several chilling seconds, dread washing over her. Whether she liked it or not, she was about to let Walter Blakemore into her son’s life.
And whether her heart could stand it or not, she was about to see Garrett again. The thought made her feel weak all the way to her knees.
But what choice did she have?
She took Dalton upstairs. She dressed him in one of his Sunday-best outfits and changed her own clothes. Grabbing Dalton’s diaper bag, she went out to the car and headed toward the city, her heart in her throat all the way.
Chapter Thirteen
Garrett walked away from the pay phone on the wall inside the waiting room of the intensive care unit. He sat, picked up a newsmagazine, then put it back down, too restless to read.
He was worried about Walter, but it was more than that. Hearing Lanie’s voice hurt terribly, more than he’d expected. He’d thought he was ready, steeled. Then she’d picked up the phone, and he’d felt such a heartsick craving, it had made his whole chest ache.
He didn’t want to crave her anymore. He didn’t want to dream about her, need her. But he did, and it all seemed to get worse every day instead of better.
She’d sounded as unhappy as he felt. There had been a sadness in her voice he hadn’t heard before. Hearing his voice hurt her, too—but there was no satisfaction in that for him. Only a deep regret he didn’t know how to resolve.
And he’d done nothing but rack his mind for some way to resolve it, ever since the day he’d walked away from her. She wanted him to tell her he loved her, trusted her. And before Vanessa, he could have done that. But how did he know that what he was feeling for Lanie was even real? He’d thought it was real once before, and it had turned out to be a painful fraud.
Lanie wanted such a gigantic leap of faith from him. He’d made that leap before and had suffered the consequences. It made him agitated just thinking about doing it again, making himself that vulnerable to another person. He’d been working fifteen- and twenty-hour days trying to ease the pain of it. He’d buried himself in the comfortable world of his work.
But it didn’t seem as comfortable anymore. It seemed incomplete. He’d been driving in to work, only the day before, his mind trained on the intricacies of a business deal he was working on, when a commercial on the radio had speared into his consciousness. It had been a commercial for the fair, and his immediate thought had been that he would have liked to take Lanie and Dalton.
He closed his eyes, rubbing at his forehead as if he could banish her from his mind that way. But he couldn’t, and a minute later he rose, started pacing, because he didn’t know how else to work off the restless energy roiling inside his heart.
The downtown Austin hospital was huge and busy. Lanie pushed Dalton’s stroller through a set of double glass doors and entered a large atrium-style lobby. She was sure the atmosphere had been created to soothe, with sunshine pouring down from skylights and the overgrowth of plants to absorb the murmur of voices.
But she wasn’t soothed. Nerves skittered up her spine as she crossed the lobby to one of the banks of elevators. Inside, she pressed the button for the fourth floor, where Garrett had told her to meet him. The elevator car whisked noiselessly upward. She was concerned about the meeting with Walter—and Garrett.
She saw him as soon as the elevator doors opened.
He was standing at the end of the hall, deep in conversation with a doctor. Her heart contracted as she stepped out of the elevator, soaking in the sight of him. He was wearing a dark suit with a white shirt and red tie. He looked perfect, as always, but even from this distance she could see the tension on his face. She wanted to go to him, but she was afraid to.
She walked up to the nurses’ station instead.
“Can you tell me how Walter Blakemore is doing?” she asked the nurse on the other side of the counter. She was an older woman, with a cheerful expression and curious eyes.
“Mr. Blakemore? He’s awaiting surgery. Are you a relative?” The nurse lifted her brows.
“Uh, yes. Well, I’m the mother of his grandson.”
The nurse’s eyes narrowed. “Aha.” She stood and leaned over the counter. “So that’s the grandson. We’ve heard about him. Isn’t he a cutie?”
Lanie wondered if Walter had really put it that way, referred to Dalton as his grandson.
She looked down the hall and saw Garrett heading toward her. The doctor accompanied him.
The pit of stress in her stomach swelled. “Thank you for coming,” Garrett said when he reached her, his dark irises revealing nothing of his thoughts.
He made the necessary introductions. Dr. Johnston was a tall, lean man with a kind face and an efficient air.
“And this is the fellow all the fuss is about, eh?” Dr. Johnston said, bending to tap the baby on the nose.
“How is Walter?” Lanie asked. She directed her question at the doctor, but she could feel Garrett’s hard gaze on her, feel the tension. It was horrible, standing so close to him and trying so hard not to love him. She wanted to offer him her support, her concern, but she didn’t know if he’d accept it.
Dr. Johnston straightened as he answered her. “Fortunately his general health is good,” he said.
“There’s risk with all surgery, of course. Especially surgery of this kind. But if all goes well, he should sail through this and look forward to a complete recovery.”
“Good.” Lanie felt some measure of relief. “All right. Should I take Dalton in to see him now?”
The doctor nodded. “Yes. He’s been quite insistent about seeing this boy. We’ve got him scheduled for surgery this afternoon, so if you’ll come this way.” He led Lanie down the hall, toward double doors leading into the intensive care unit.
The doctor pushed open the door and stood there.
She looked at Garrett.
“Let’s go,” he said quietly. “Walter’s waiting for you.”
And for just a second she thought she saw something in his eyes, a flash of feeling, but then it was gone and she wasn’t sure if it was anything to do with her at all, or simply something to do with Walter.
She took a deep breath. Dr. Johnston pushed the doors open, and with Garrett at her side she stepped inside the ICU.
Dr. Johnston left them outside Walter’s room. She leaned down to unstrap Dalton from his stroller and pick him up. The delay gave her one last chance to gather her courage. She straightened and stared at the door, Dalton in her arms.
It was silly to be this scared, she told herself finally. Walter was just a man, a human being. She’d made him into something huge in her mind, something powerful and monstrous.
“Lanie?” Garrett prompted.
She took a deep breath, looked up at him and nodded. He pushed open the door to the private room and ushered her inside.
Walter was sitting up in the bed, surrounded by a confusing array of machinery. He looked ill, pale. Still, he exuded a strong presence through his dark, cold eyes that pinned her as she walked into the room. He was an older version of Ben and Garrett, his features hard and lined. He had thick, white hair and it was as well-groomed as if he were in a boardroom. She almost expected to look down and find him wearing a suit instead of the light-colored hospital gown.
“Hi,” she said softly, very uncertain of what to say or do. She held Dalton close instinctively, knowing she was about to share him with his grandfather and still uncomfortable with what that was going to mean to all their lives.
Walter watched her, his eyes set deep in his ashen face. “This is the boy?” He shifted his attention to Dalton.
Lanie swallowed tightly, nodded. She forced herself to step closer.
“Yes, this is Dalton.” She felt herself sweating, intimidated despite Walter’s obvious physical incapacity. She looked back and saw Garrett still standing near the door, his arms crossed, watching her.
“I want you to bring the boy over here,” Walter ordered gruffly. “I can’t get a good look at him from across the room.”
Lanie walked to his bedside. She watched Walter’s face, the way he examined Dalton.
“He doesn’t look like Ben,” he announced finally, his tone implying some huge fault.
“He looks a lot like my brother,” Lanie told him, her back stiffening.
She stood there, feeling awkward and afraid—and then suddenly angry at Walter for making her feel that way. Angry for the critical way he was regarding her baby. Angry for everything he’d held back from Ben—and was now holding back from Dalton.
And angry because of whatever emotional influence the old man had had on Garrett, for the love he hadn’t given to him, either.
She let the fury carry her. “Why did you ask me to bring Dalton here?”
Walter’s hard gaze zeroed in on her again. He didn’t answer her, posed his own question instead.
“Why won’t you have the testing done to prove this boy is Ben’s?” he demanded.
“Is that why you asked me to come, to badger me about the testing?”
“There’s a lot at stake here, young lady,” he said, his cheeks flushing with spots of color. “If this boy is proven to be Ben’s child, he’s the heir to a fortune. You have no idea—”
“I don’t want to have any idea.” She faced Walter squarely, unblinkingly. “I don’t want to know anything about your fortune, Neither did Ben.”
“Ben didn’t know what he wanted.”
“Yes, he did,” she said, keeping her voice low, controlled. “He wanted his father to love him and accept him.”
A muscle ticked in Walter’s jaw. His mouth tightened and his eyes hollowed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled.
“I know exactly what I’m talking about. You think you can use your money to control everyone around you. Well, it didn’t work with Ben. And it’s not going to work with me—or my baby.”
And she realized that she’d been right, that he was just a man, just a human being—and a sad shell of a human being at that. He could try to run Dalton’s life, but she wouldn’t let him. She was stronger than he was.
A sense of calm washed over her.
“You’ll have those tests or Dalton won’t see a dime of my money,” Walter snapped at her. “Are you going to take that away from him?”
“I’m not taking anything away from Dalton. You are. And I’m not talking about money, either. You’re taking away from him the same thing you took away from Ben. Ben is dead now.”
She saw him flinch, but that didn’t stop her. She kept on going—for Ben and for Dalton. “Now you’re afraid you’re going to die. Are you ever going to figure out what matters?”
Tension crackled between them. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.
“You wanted to see Dalton, I brought him. And I’m glad I came. I was scared of you before—and now I’m not. All I feel for you is pity.”
She turned away. Garrett was staring at her, his face strained with a shuttered emotion she couldn’t decode. She wasn’t sure if it was anger...or pain.
“Wait,” Walter ordered harshly from behind her.
She froze, something in his voice, something painful, forcing her to turn. He looked small, dwarfed by the high-tech machinery all around him.
“What?”
He stared at her for a long time. His eyes looked bright suddenly, very bright.
His words were demanding, but there was a pleading in his tone, in his eyes.
Her first instinct was to refuse, to keep right on walking out of the room. He didn’t deserve to hold Dalton. But she couldn’t walk away.
She took Dalton back to him and held him out to his grandfather wordlessly. Walter took the baby into his arms. He didn’t say anything, just held Dalton for a long moment, touching his face, his hands. She noticed that his fingers shook, and she noticed how closely and tenderly he held the baby.
Then he handed Dalton back. Lanie took him, and as she did, she saw the moisture that welled up in his grandfather’s eyes. She remembered what Garrett had said about Walter having a heart despite how harsh and cold he seemed on the outside.
Her throat felt thick suddenly, sorrow overwhelming her.
“I know that you love him,” she said softly, desperately controlling the shake in her voice. “You know he’s your grandson, and you love him. You loved Ben, too, I know you did.”
Walter didn’t answer, looked away, his mouth tight but trembling. He crossed his arms and she noticed that they were thin and pale, and she wanted so desperately to reach out and touch his hand that she had to clench her fist at her side to stop from doing it She wasn’t sure how he’d react if she touched him.
“You have a grandson now,” she whispered. “You can’t do anything about the past, but you can change the future—if you want to.” As she ended, she turned, her gaze locking with Garrett’s.
And she reminded herself that she couldn’t heal Walter any more than she could heal Garrett. She’d said what was in her heart. She was finished.
The old man didn’t respond to her comments. He was still staring at the wall when she left.
Garrett followed her into the hall. He closed Walter’s door softly behind them.
Lanie tucked Dalton back into his stroller, then straightened and looked Garrett in the eye. She’d made a decision, and it seemed appropriate that he should be the first to hear.
The Billionaire and the Bassinet Page 12