A Father's Secret

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A Father's Secret Page 12

by Yvonne Lindsay


  He accepted the call and headed back out the door, standing just outside in the porch.

  “Sam Thornton,” he answered.

  “Mr. Thornton, I’m glad I could get hold of you. I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time.”

  Sam fielded a strange look from a couple who were walking into the clinic, the woman staring pointedly at the diaper bag still in his hand, the man with her clutching an ice pack to his wrist.

  “It’s fine,” Sam said, stepping out of the porch and into the car park. “Go ahead.”

  “I’ve been able to gather some more information about Erin Connell. Information that I think might come in useful for you should you prove to be the baby’s father and wish to apply for part or full custody.”

  Full custody? He hadn’t even considered that as an option. Yet. “What sort of information,” he demanded, his voice cold. Right now he doubted anything he heard about Erin would surprise him.

  “It seems she has a bit of a checkered past. She was a runaway. Her mother reported her as a missing person when Erin was about sixteen. Social Services found her and took her home, but she kept running away. When her mother died in a domestic violence incident Erin slipped through the cracks. No one to keep looking for her, I guess.”

  Was that why she was so determined to create a perfect home now, Sam wondered privately. “Carry on, there’s obviously more,” he instructed the investigator.

  “Oh, yeah, there’s certainly more. There are several records of her being arrested for petty crime—shop-lifting, vagrancy and some willful damage.”

  Sam felt a chill grow in his chest. Who was this person the investigator was talking about? She sounded nothing like the Erin Connell he’d thought he’d come to know. The woman he’d actually, stupidly it now seemed, begun to develop feelings for. He’d been prepared to have it out with her. To confront her about the DNA findings and to share the findings of the latest tests. But now he wasn’t so sure. What kind of agenda had she had? Could he even trust her with the truth?

  He was reminded of the reason he was here at the clinic in the first place and had the sudden urge to be there with Riley, to ensure that he was getting the best care possible, whatever the cost.

  “Look, can I call you back tomorrow?” Sam asked.

  “Sure, but there are a couple more things. Did you know the property she’s living in now is held in trust?”

  “In trust?” She hadn’t said anything about that.

  “Yeah. Her husband’s great-grand-something set it up so that the property can only be used by a direct descendant, by blood. Basically, it means she won’t have a roof over her head if you’re proven to be the baby’s father.”

  “It’s been proven,” he answered succinctly, his mind turning over this new piece of information carefully. He’d struggled to understand Erin’s reasons for not wanting the DNA tests to be done, but now they were eminently clear. She stood to lose everything and was possibly even prepared to indulge in fraud to ensure that didn’t happen. At his expense. Given what he’d learned about her just now, it all began to fit—and the anger he’d been fighting to keep under control flared to scorching life again.

  “I guess congratulations are in order then, Mr. Thornton.”

  “Thanks,” Sam said curtly, now more than ever needing to get inside the medical center to see Riley and Erin.

  “Before you hang up—” the investigator interjected “—there’s more you ought to know.”

  “Carry on,” Sam said, impatience making his words brisk.

  “Erin Connell, or rather, Johnson, as she was known then, was once held for questioning in relation to an infant death.”

  Twelve

  All the blood rushed out of Sam’s head and went straight to his feet. He dropped the diaper bag and leaned against a nearby signpost.

  “She what?” he finally managed to grind out.

  “Seems she was living in a squat house. A child died and everyone there closed ranks. Wouldn’t divulge any information about the baby’s death, which made everyone a suspect. The death wasn’t an accident, but no charges were brought, and as far as I’m aware the case is still open.”

  “When exactly did this happen?” Sam managed to ask even as other questions swirled around in his mind.

  “About ten years ago, just before she headed out to Lake Tahoe.”

  Where she’d subsequently inveigled her way into the heart and the bed of the owner of Connell Lodge, Sam realized. Had she been as cold-blooded as all that? It was possible, especially if she was the kind of woman who could stand by when a child was murdered and agree not see the perpetrator brought to justice. Who did that? And, more important, where did that leave Riley in terms of safety?

  Even as he thought that, his mind argued back in kind. He’d seen Erin with Riley, seen how distressed she’d become when he was ill. She was a good mother—fiercely protective and nurturing. He couldn’t deny that. But as a person? As a woman who had willfully withheld the truth about all manner of things, she left a great deal to be desired.

  “Can you email your findings to me in a report by morning?”

  “It’s on its way already,” the investigator confirmed.

  “Great, and thanks.”

  “It’s what you pay me to do, Mr. Thornton.”

  Sam severed the connection and thought that yeah, that was exactly what he’d paid the investigator to do. He’d had no idea of the scope of what the man would uncover, though. He shook his head slightly. He’d come so close to admitting his feelings to Erin today. What a damned lucky escape that he hadn’t. What he knew about her now changed everything as far as he was concerned.

  Maybe she’d changed from the runaway who’d turned to petty crime to survive, and maybe she hadn’t. Sam really couldn’t know for sure. But nothing could excuse what she’d done as recently as two weeks ago in hiding the DNA test results proving her late husband wasn’t Riley’s father. As far as Sam was concerned, some things were not negotiable and being truthful was one of them. Especially over something as vitally important as the paternity of her son.

  He slid his phone back into his pocket and returned to the reception area of the clinic, just in time it seemed. Erin and a far more subdued Riley were coming through from the treatment rooms.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, stepping forward and running a hand over Riley’s head. He was cooler at least.

  “Yeah, he has an ear and throat infection, poor baby. Must have picked something up when we were in town the other day. They’ve managed to get him to take something to bring his temperature down a little and I need to fill a prescription for a round of antibiotics.” She looked over to the receptionist. “I understand I need to complete some more paperwork before we can go?”

  The woman smiled back at her. “Oh, no, your husband completed everything for us. If you can just settle the account you’ll be good to go.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Sam said, whipping out his wallet and sliding a credit card across the counter.

  “Thank you,” Erin whispered. “But where did she get the idea that you’re my husband?”

  “Later,” he said succinctly. “Let’s get that prescription then get Riley home and settled first.”

  He swiped up the receipt from the counter and guided Erin back to the car. While she settled Riley in his car seat, Sam went to the pharmacy attached to the clinic and had the prescription filled. As he walked back to the car Erin straightened from whe
re she’d been leaning in through the back door. She looked directly into Sam’s eyes as he approached. Could she see in them that he knew the truth about her, he wondered. He’d never been a particularly adept poker player, bluffing just wasn’t a part of who he was.

  “Would you like me to drive us back?” Erin asked as she accepted the pharmacy bag from Sam.

  “Will Riley be okay without you next to him?”

  “Good point. The descent on the hill might set him off again. Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?”

  “I’ll take it easy. If there’s a problem I’ll let you know.”

  Without waiting for her response he sat at the wheel and waited for her to get in back and buckle her seat belt. The old tension caught in his gut as he started the car and backed out of the parking space, then headed out onto the road. He fought against it. He had overcome this already once today. He could beat this thing, the fear, the sense that he and he alone was responsible for the safe carriage of the one he loved.

  When they pulled in at the lodge he was shattered. The concentration it had required to keep his cool while driving back had been monumental, but on top of the weariness he was aware of a sense of achievement. He’d conquered one beast, now all he needed to do was gear up for his next battle.

  Riley was grumbling again when Erin pulled him from his car seat and carried him inside.

  “I’ll get him settled and then I’ll get a meal sorted for us,” she said, going through to her rooms.

  “Sure,” Sam said, welcoming the opportunity to get his thoughts together and to decide on the best way to approach this thing.

  He went upstairs and stripped off his clothes. It was as if they reeked of the fear that had gripped him when Erin had expected him to drive. He took a quick shower and dressed in a clean pair of jeans and sweater, then made his way back downstairs.

  Erin looked up from the casserole she’d obviously retrieved from the freezer.

  “Some day, huh?” She put the dish in the microwave, closing the door and punching the necessary buttons.

  “Indeed. Is Riley all settled?”

  The words felt like cotton wool in his mouth—bulky, difficult to talk around, yet totally lacking in substance.

  “Yeah, I slipped his dose of antibiotics into his mouth while nursing him. With that and the painkiller they gave him at the clinic I think he should be much better by morning. At least I hope so.”

  “Good.”

  He felt awkward, not an emotion he was used to experiencing. He took a deep breath and searched for the way he wanted to lead the next few minutes. He was forestalled, however, by Erin coming across the kitchen and sliding her hands around his waist to nuzzle against his chest. He raised one hand uncomfortably to her back. Despite all they’d shared earlier today, right now she felt completely foreign to him.

  “Thank you for everything today. Especially for driving to the clinic and home again. I know how much that must have cost you, how difficult it must have been for you to drive.”

  He must have made some sound of assent because she hugged him tight before continuing.

  “I hope it wasn’t illegal for you to do what you did at the clinic, though. You really shouldn’t have signed those papers.”

  Icy cold water trickled through his veins and Sam slowly and deliberately pulled her arms away from holding him. He took a step back. This was it. This was where he told her the truth. The truth they could have all known sooner if she hadn’t been so busy dodging her responsibilities by hedging around the requests for Riley’s DNA. The anger that flooded him now was chilling, rather than hot. It seeped through him, penetrating his heart and hardening him against the look of confusion in her eyes as he dropped her arms and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

  “I broke no laws.”

  “Are you sure? You’re not Riley’s parent or guardian.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said determinedly. “I am Riley’s father. I am Party A.”

  * * *

  Erin felt the air rush out of her lungs as his words slowly penetrated. Sam was Party A? She reached for the back of a kitchen chair, desperate to steady herself and to fight back the swimming black spots that suddenly clouded her vision.

  “N-no, that can’t be true,” she cried, slowly sinking to her knees.

  Sam watched her with eyes totally devoid of expression. Devoid of every ounce of the care or compassion or, she’d dared to hope, love, that she’d seen in them earlier today.

  “Believe it. I found out this morning. I was going to tell you when we were out on the boat today. I—” His voice broke off and he made a sound of disgust deep in his throat. “I was stupid enough to think we could possibly work toward a future together. The three of us. But that was before I found out that you’ve known for weeks that James Connell wasn’t Riley’s father. Why didn’t you tell the truth? You had no right to withhold that information.”

  He was furious, she could see it now in every line of his body, in the tight way he held his mouth, in the lines that had reappeared on his face. She dragged herself back up to her feet.

  “I don’t believe you! You’re lying to me. Where’s your proof?” she protested. “Riley is my son. Mine! I have a duty to protect him, to protect what’s his.”

  “But this,” Sam spread his arms out wide, “isn’t his, is it? If James Connell wasn’t Riley’s father, which we both know he wasn’t, then you’re also defrauding the trustees of the Connell Estate by continuing to let them think he was.”

  “How did you—” She stopped herself and took in a shuddering breath. “That’s none of your business. I want you to get out of here. I don’t want you here anymore!”

  Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. Hot angry tears born out of a terror that threatened to grip her tight and never let her go.

  “You know you’re living here illegally, living here on borrowed time. How could you not want to give him a chance to know his real father?” Sam pressed on, each word a blow to her fragile stability.

  She bit down on her lip. She wouldn’t answer him. She couldn’t. He would never understand that this was her home, her sanctuary. It was the one place in her life she’d known stability and safety—where she’d belonged. But she’d been found out—she didn’t belong here, and neither did Riley. She knew she didn’t have a leg to stand on. She’d been futilely grabbing at straws, hoping that the truth wouldn’t come out.

  “What? No answers? Why doesn’t that surprise me?” His voice dripped with loathing, a far cry from the man with whom she’d made such exquisite love only hours ago. “I’ll go in the morning but you can expect to hear from me through my lawyers later tomorrow.”

  He turned to leave the room, hesitating a moment in the doorway before turning back to face her. Erin pulled herself up straight, bracing herself for the next blow that she instinctively knew would come.

  “You know, I’d been prepared all along to consider joint custody of our son—something you seemed determined to deny me the right to. But you can forget that now. All bets are off.”

  “How dare you say that,” she cried at his retreating back. “No court in the world would give you full custody of a child. You killed your wife, didn’t you? You admit yourself your work habits led to your accident. How can you consider yourself a fit parent for sole guardianship when you couldn’t be there for your wife? Do you expect a court to believe you’ll be there for a baby?”

  Sam turned to face her
again. This time the expression on his face showed the emotion he’d evidently been holding back. She flinched as he started to speak, his words like spears flying straight toward her.

  “Be very careful before casting stones in my direction, Erin Connell. I know about your past—the running away, the shoplifting—everything.”

  In that split second she knew he had somehow become privy to her worst secret and her worst nightmare.

  “H-how?”

  “How doesn’t matter. And I won’t stop there, Erin. Before I’m finished I will have unearthed every single last thing there is to know about you, now and from the past. Things that will show you in a very bad light when it comes to considering your fitness to be a parent. I think—” he gave her a grim smile “—that by comparison, my work ethic will be the least of my problems.”

  Thirteen

  The microwave let out a long beep, signaling it had completed its task but Erin was oblivious. She sank into one of the kitchen chairs, her whole body shaking with the enormity of what had just happened.

  Sam’s threats shook her to the core, but as she sat shivering in the chair, her mind was filled with painful images of her life before she came to Lake Tahoe. Her past was dark and murky. She thought she’d put all that behind her, that by being a good employee, a solid citizen and then subsequently a good wife and mother, that she’d paid her dues. But now the memories of the horror and shame of her past filled her again.

  The death of the baby in the house she’d lived in had been horrifying on its own. Being publicly vilified when she was accused of conspiring to conceal information about the death had been her worst nightmare.

 

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