Living With Lies Trilogy (Books 1, 2, and 3 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series)

by Watters, Patricia

  Brad took her face between his hands, and said, "You got in bed with me and gave me what I needed, not what you needed or wanted. What you did was selfless. There was nothing in it for you. And now I'm going to kiss you because I've been wanting to do it since I first saw you, and I don't want you to knee me in the balls. Just kiss me back."

  "Is this a test?" Justine asked, wondering what Brad's motive was.

  "No, this is me wanting to kiss you."

  "Why? What's your reason?" Justine asked. "Men just don't kiss Justine Page without an ulterior motive."

  "I have a motive," Brad said, as he moved toward her.

  "What is it?" Justine asked, while feeling the whisper of his breath against her lips.

  "To tell you you're a special woman." He kissed her then, a warm tender kiss that was as unexpected as it was welcome. Justine curved her arms around his neck and kissed him back, but when he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, a loud rapping on the door startled them, sending Brad releasing her abruptly and falling back against the table, toppling a chair.

  "That's what I mean," he said, returning the chair to the table. "Loud noises shatter my nerves."

  Justine was still feeling the effect of Brad's kiss, but when he opened the door, and a blast of cold air hit her in the face, it brought her to her senses. She looked over to see who it was, halfway expecting Grace, and saw instead, a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, with a little girl, about five, clinging to her. "Brad Meecham?" the woman asked.

  Brad nodded, and waited to see what the woman wanted.

  "I'm Elsa Moroz," the woman said, "Yvette Patel's sister. And this is your daughter, Sophie..."

  CHAPTER 4

  Justine stared at the wide-eyed, frightened child of Brad and the woman whose name he'd spoken during the throes of the hook episode, then she looked at Brad, whose eyes were fixed on the child, no doubt a small clone of her mother—a woman Brad would be reminded of every time he looked at his daughter. It was also clear, from the shocked look on Brad's face, that the existence of the child was a surprise.

  "May we come in?" Elsa Moroz asked. "It's very cold out here."

  "Sorry," Brad replied. "Yeah, come on in." He stepped back for them to enter.

  Elsa stomped the snow from her boots just outside the door, then walked in and sat on the couch, settling the child in her lap. The child leaned her pale blond head against the woman's chest, all the while continuing to stare at Brad with the same cobalt blue of Brad's eyes, and with the same intensity.

  "She looks like Yvette," Brad said.

  Elsa nodded and placed her hand on the child's forehead, smoothing her hair from her face. "Except she has your blue eyes."

  Justine saw Brad studying the child. He was not questioning the validity of this woman's claim. He knew this was his daughter. She was a striking child, whose mother was no doubt a striking woman, a woman Brad once loved and could love again if he went back to find her. Brad was considering it, Justine was certain. He had a child with the woman and that connected them. But Elsa Moroz was there for a reason. Maybe Yvette was in trouble. Maybe she was going through hard times and needed Brad to take their child.

  The woman looked at Brad, whose gaze was still fixed on the child, who stared back at Brad. "You did get my letter, didn't you?" Elsa asked. "I sent it well over a week ago. They said at the lodge you were staying here."

  Brad tapped a cigarette from the pack resting on a low table by the couch and shoved it between his lips and held a match to it. After taking a long draw, he let it out slowly, and said to the woman, "Where is Yvette?"

  "She's dead," Elsa said. "I took emergency leave from the military to stay with Sophie. I'm scheduled to be deployed and there's no one to take care of her."

  For a few moments Brad said nothing, and Justine knew he was trying to digest the news. Then his eyes sharpened, and he said, "I'm not in a position to take a child. There must be someone else."

  Elsa shook her head. "No one." But there was an odd look on her face, like maybe there was someone and she wasn't saying.

  Brad, who'd been silently staring at the child, turned away from them and stood at the window looking out, fists clenched, and Justine knew he was trying to adjust to the reality that the woman who'd been there for him for four days and conceived a child by him was dead and he was a single parent. He took another long draw, exhaled, and said, while continuing to stare out the window, "How did she die?"

  "She was killed by a hit-and-run driver a little over a week ago," Elsa said. "She was riding her bike. It was instant."

  "I never knew she was pregnant," Brad said. "Why didn't she contact me?"

  The woman ran her hand over the little girl's hair again, more to have something to do with a nervous hand rather than to soothe the child, Justine thought. Then the woman said, "Did you try to contact Yvette after you returned from Macedonia?"

  A question to deflect a question, Justine realized… maybe because the woman didn't want to tell Brad why Yvette never tried to contact him when she learned she was pregnant? Maybe because there was more to the story than what the woman was telling?

  "No," Brad said, his back still to them, "but there was still no reason for Yvette to keep her pregnancy from me. We'd had unprotected sex for four days and we both knew the risk and talked about it. She said it was okay, that she wouldn't get pregnant because it was the wrong time of the month, but if she did she'd let me know." He turned and looked at the woman. "She was your sister. You must know why she didn't contact me."

  The woman didn't answer right away, but during the lull, she batted her eyes nervously, and Justine felt again that she was hiding something. Then the woman shrugged and said, "You were very disturbed during the time you were with her."

  "So that's why she didn't contact me," Brad asked, "because she was afraid?"

  "I don't know," Elsa replied. "I wasn't always around my sister. I'm in the military and we led separate lives, but Sophie's your responsibility now so you'll have to figure out what to do. She's your daughter, and she needs a home."

  After another long draw on the cigarette, Brad said, "How did you find me?"

  "Your agent," Elsa replied. "Yvette had some of your books. You gave credit to your agent in your last one so I contacted him. He knew about Yvette and didn't doubt Sophie was your daughter. He told me where you were, so I wrote. I guess the mail's been lost or delayed because of Christmas."

  Justine eyed the woman with mounting misgiving. The ranch had a phone, and the woman knew how to find the place, and although a letter getting lost in the Christmas rush was possible, maybe it had been conveniently delayed or lost because the woman wanted to arrive without prior notice and leave Brad's daughter with him before he had a chance to tell her not to come.

  "We've had a long trip and we need a place to sleep," Elsa said, "and Sophie will need clothes. I only brought one small bag with her things. She's also in denial and doesn't understand that her mother's not coming back. She keeps asking for her. You'll have to figure out what to do. I can't stay beyond morning because I have to get back to the base."

  "I can't keep her here," Brad said.

  "You have no choice," Elsa replied. "Sophie has nowhere to go and you're her father. She needs to be assured that you love her and will take care of her." She smoothed her hand over the little girl's hair again and kissed her on the temple. The child closed her eyes tight, as if trying to make the world go away. "Sophie," she said, looking down at the child, "this is your father and he'll be taking care of you now. Everything will be okay. You'll see." When Elsa went to lift Sophie off her lap, Sophie pressed her little body closer to her and refused to get down.

  Elsa looked up at Brad. "She likes Kraft macaroni and cheese, strawberry yogurt, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and bananas. And she'll need some books. I packed a few of her favorites. Start with the Dr. Seuss books. And her blanket and stuffed bear are in her bag at the lodge. She keeps those with her most of the time so be sure you
don't misplace them."

  "Look, sometimes I have flashbacks that start a chain of reactions I can't stop," Brad said, becoming unsettled. "I could unintentionally hurt her. There must be someone else." He looked at Justine for support.

  "She can stay with me for a while," Justine said, realizing she was committing to something she had no intention of carrying through. Tomorrow she'd turn the child over to Grace, who'd look after her until Brad found a permanent home for her.

  Brad ground out the stub of his cigarette and reached for the pack, tapping out another one, but as he held a match to it, Elsa said, "You shouldn't smoke around Sophie. It's not good for children. They can get asthma."

  Brad peered down at Sophie, a troubled look on his face, then blew out the match. "I'm on book tour a lot," he said, shoving the cigarette back in the pack.

  "Then you'll have to make arrangements to either take Sophie with you or have someone look after her when you're gone," Elsa said. "It's something single parents do all the time. Now you're a single father. You have to work these things out. Sophie will also need to be registered in kindergarten." When Brad offered nothing, Elsa said, "Yvette was a good mother. She loved Sophie and took good care of her. I think it would be helpful if you'd come interact with Sophie. She's scared and confused, and tomorrow I'll be gone."

  Brad studied his daughter, who continued to stare at him with wide, intense eyes and her head pressed to Elsa's chest. After an extended period, he walked up to them and crouched on his heels in front of Sophie, then reached out and touched her hand, which Sophie quickly retracted. "You'll be okay," he said to her. But the child closed her eyes tight and refused to look at him. He shrugged and stood. "Hell, I don't know what to do."

  "Then you'd better figure it out," Elsa said. "Now, we're tired and need a place to stay for tonight. They said at the lodge there were no rooms available."

  "You can stay in my room," Justine said. "It has twin beds and I'll have my brother-in-law bring in a foldaway for Sophie. There's activity in the lodge. It'll help take her mind off things."

  "I suppose that's all we can do for tonight," Elsa said with resolve. She looked at Brad again, and added, "Sophie's your responsibility now so you'd better start working out the details. I'll be leaving at seven in the morning." She stood, and with Sophie wrapped around her like an infant monkey clinging to its mother, left the cabin.

  Brad stepped to the window and stood watching them cross the snowy drive toward the lodge. "Yvette thought she couldn't get pregnant and I figured she'd know," he said, continuing to stare out the window, "but after four days of sex I should have contacted her when my assignment was over, just to make sure." He thrust a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. After taking a long draw, he said, "I'm not fit to take care of a kid. The way my mind's messed up I'd screw up her life, and I haven't a clue what to do with a little girl."

  "I suppose you try to love her," Justine replied.

  "Yeah, well first I have to get the kid to look at me," Brad said, flicking ashes into an ashtray filled with cigarette butts.

  "She's frightened, she's lost her mother, she's about to lose her aunt, and she'll be here with strangers," Justine said. "I don't know what to do either because I've never been around kids. Do you have any family who could look after her?"

  Brad shook his head. "My brother's forty-four and divorced, my sister's a flake, and my parents are touring the country in an RV, but she's my daughter, and Yvette helped me through a difficult time and got pregnant while doing it, so I owe it to her to take care of Sophie." He looked at his cigarette and became thoughtful...

  You shouldn't smoke around Sophie... it's not good for children...

  Then ground it out.

  And Justine got the feeling that Brad had taken his first wobbly baby step toward becoming Sophie's father, which she found troubling. She couldn't even relate to children. She'd never had to and didn't miss it. The thought of keeping Sophie for a few days while Brad tried to figure out what to do with her was disturbing. The fact was, she didn't want a child in Brad's life. Just before the woman arrived Brad kissed her in a way that meant something, the way Jack might kiss Grace… the way a man kissed a woman because he cared. "I'll talk to Grace and Jack," she said. "Maybe they could adopt her. Grace loves children and she's good with them, and Jack's a wonderful father." She was convinced she'd found a solution to the entire problem. Sophie would have a good home, and Brad would have his life back, and ultimately she might have Brad.

  "You don't need to. I'll work it out," Brad replied.

  "How can you even consider it?" Justine said in an agitated voice. "You don't know anything about taking care of a child. She'd have a good home with Grace and Jack. It's not like you'd be abandoning her. You could visit her here. And what about your flashbacks? What if you had one while she was alone with you?"

  Brad looked at Justine, long and hard, and said," At least I know where you stand."

  "That's not what I meant," Justine tried to explain. But it was pointless because Brad already knew exactly where she stood.

  Justine Page doesn't want a child in Brad Meecham's life. Period.

  "I'm going to help get them settled," Brad said, then opened the door and left.

  "Wait!" Justine called after him. "I'll come with you."

  As they entered the lodge through the back door and stepped into the great room, Grace intercepted them and said to Brad, "The woman told me the child was your daughter. She can stay in the cabin with you. The bed in the second bedroom is made up."

  "She'll be staying with me," Justine said, in a voice she hoped sounded more accepting of Sophie as part of her life, but when she looked at Brad, she knew he saw right through it. Again, she wished she was more like Grace. If a love child had been dumped on Jack, Grace would have brought the child into the family and given it the love and affection it needed, and Jack would love Grace all the more. But the fact was, Justine Page couldn't bring herself to do that with Brad Meecham's child.

  Grace eyed Brad guardedly, and said, "Where is your daughter's mother?"

  "She died recently," Justine answered for Brad, who looked about ready to explode with Grace's questions. "The little girl and Brad only just learned about each other."

  "You didn't know you had a daughter?" Grace asked Brad, dubiously.

  Justine took Grace's arm and led her away from Brad, and said with irritation, "Brad doesn't need a cross-examination from you right now, and no, he didn't know about Sophie. It was a complete surprise, since the mother never contacted him."

  "This is exactly what I mean," Grace said. "You get involved with men who use women and move on when the woman no longer serves their needs. If the child's mother never contacted Brad it's because it was either a short fling or the woman knew the relationship wouldn't lead to marriage." Grace delivered the dressing-down in the disciplinary tone she used when reprimanding her older sister, which she did a lot, Justine noticed. Most of the time it was warranted, but this time Grace was wrong, at least partly wrong. It had been a short fling, and neither Brad nor Yvette entered the sexual relationship with marriage in mind, but the emergence of troubling memories changed everything. Brad needed the woman to help him get through it, and Sophie was the result...

  "And after the aunt leaves?" Grace started in again. "What do you intend to do with the child? You can't just feed and water her like she's a cat or dog, not that you've had any experience with pets either."

  "I don't know," Justine said. "This is new to me too."

  "Everything's new to you," Grace said. "You've known the child's father less than a week and you've already crawled into his bed to comfort him, as you call it, and you got naked with him in the hot springs, and now you think you can play mother to his daughter. You know nothing about the man beyond what you got from him in bed."

  "I know everything about him," Justine argued. "I got into his head in his book."

  Grace sucked in an exasperated breath, and said, "Well, while you're delving in
to his mind he'll have you in his bed getting you pregnant too. You're not too old, and I doubt you arrived here with something to prevent it."

  Justine shrugged. "I'm never without it."

  Grace stared at Justine and said nothing, because there was nothing more to say. After years of denying it, the truth was out, and the truth was, Justine Page was always prepared because she used sex to get where she wanted to go, and a child would keep her from going there. It was a sobering thought, even to Justine, seeing the disillusionment in Grace's eyes.

  Until this visit, Grace thought her big sister just made poor choices in men, then allowed them to use her. Now she knew it went both ways. A tit for a tat. Justine's tit, for any man's tat, if it got her where she wanted to go. But the truth of it was, she didn't want to go back to where she'd been. She was tired of the Sean Elliots in her life. Tired of it all. But she had nowhere else to go but back to the corporate carnage and back stabbing.

  But it bothered her that Grace was disheartened with her. "Honey, I know you're disappointed in me," she said to Grace. "I'm trying to change, and Brad's helping me, and we haven't had sex, and even though we were naked in the hot springs pool, nothing happened. It could have but Brad wouldn't let it. He's trying to help me change. He even gets after me to stop wearing thongs and start wearing a bra."

  "You should have done that years ago," Grace said. "No decent man wants a woman who has no sense of modesty, at least until they're married. I've wondered why you don't wear a bra but never asked because it wasn't my place, but why don't you?"

  "They're uncomfortable and I don't need one," Justine said. "Like I told Brad, I'm all angles and a couple of tits and not much else."

  "But you have a beautiful figure," Grace said. "I've been jealous of it for years. You can put on anything and look like you just stepped out of Vogue, but look at me. All rounded hips, and not such a trim waist anymore, and huge breasts."