Syntel looked at Clayton as if he had forgotten he was there. His shoulders slumped. “So no one knew I was her father?”
With a sigh of resignation, Senator Lansing stood, knowing he had to tell his friend the rest of the story. During the flight from D.C. to Austin, Clayton had told him everything, including his investigator’s personal interview with Clara Boyd. It had been a case of downright deceit and betrayal by Syntel’s father.
“That’s not true, Syntel. There were two others who knew you were the child’s father. When Jan knew she was dying, she told someone she thought she could trust to contact you. In fact, she died believing you were contacted and were coming for your child. She even told your daughter you would be coming for her.”
He wiped a film of perspiration from his forehead before continuing. “However, instead of getting you, the person who’d made the call for Jan spoke to your father instead. And…”
“And what?”
“Your father made the decision not to pass the information on to you and to make sure your name was never connected to Jan’s child. Clayton hired an investigator who has located the woman. She admits receiving money from your father in payment for not revealing your identity to the Children’s Services Department.”
Syntel raked his fingers through his tousled hair. The expression on his face was pained, disbelieving, enraged. “That can’t be true,” he said in a strained voice choked with deep emotion. “My father would not have been that cruel, that heartless, that hateful. He would not have turned his back on his own grandchild, my child, my own flesh and blood,” he said, as if trying to convince himself. But looking at the sympathy in his best friend’s eyes and Clayton’s, he knew deep down his father had done just that.
“Where is she? Oh, God, please tell me you know where she is now.”
Clayton stood and faced the man. He had to swallow in an attempt to remove the lump in his throat. “She lives in New York.”
“New York?”
“Yes.” Pulling his wallet from his pants pocket Clayton took out a picture he’d had taken of Syneda when they had visited Atlanta. As she smiled for the camera, her sea-green eyes shone brightly, her golden-bronze hair flowed about her shoulders and highlighted her light brown complexion.
“This is your daughter, Syntel, the woman I love and plan to marry in June.”
A wry smile touched Clayton’s lips as he realized something. “I often wondered about the origin of her name since it’s unusual. Now I know where it came from. Janeda was thinking of you when she named your daughter. It’s a combination of both your names. However, her middle name is all yours. The woman in this picture is Syneda Tremain Walters.” He handed the picture to Syntel.
Syntel nervously accepted the photograph Clayton handed to him. There was complete silence in the room as he looked at it. His eyes began filling with tears. Suddenly the only sounds in the room were the sounds of Syntel Remington’s heartwrenching sobs.
After Nedwyn and Clayton had left, Syntel Remington sat slumped down in a chair. A spasm of pain flitted across his face when he thought of what his father had done.
Janeda had given him a daughter, and in the end she had believed in their love enough to want him to know about their child, to want him to take care of her, even when they had not seen each other in ten years.
But she had known that his love for her would have survived the test of time and that he would want their child, and that he would take care of her. Janeda had died believing in him.
He couldn’t help but remember the last night he and Janeda had spent together. He was to report to the Air Force Academy the day after graduation. The Vietnam War was on everyone’s mind, and it had been the main thing on his that night. Maybe if it hadn’t been, he would have paid more attention to her mood and the words she had spoken to him. And maybe he would have sensed some sort of a change in her, and noted that something was bothering her.
She had been the joy of his life, his true love. To him the color of their skin had never made a difference. But to her it had. She’d always been afraid of what others would think about it. Interracial relationships had not been accepted during that time, and that was the reason Ned had been used as their go-between and their cover.
Syntel hadn’t cared what others thought, and he had told her that countless times. His love for her was the only thing that mattered to him. But because she had cared, he had respected her wishes.
He closed his eyes remembering that night, their last one together, the night before graduation. They had just made love and he’d been holding her in his arms, never wanting to let her go…
Janeda snuggled closer to him. “We’re so different,” she said, looking deep into his eyes.
He smiled down at her. “No, we aren’t. You just got a better tan than I do,” he said jokingly.
She smiled back at him, then suddenly her expression became serious. “I’m afraid.”
He pulled her closer. “Don’t be. Everything’s going to work out all right. I’ll have six weeks at the academy and then I’ll come back for you. It’s not certain that I’ll be sent overseas, but if I do, we’ll get married before I go. You’re the most important person in my life. I want to tell my parents about us so that if you need anything while I’m gone you can contact them.”
“No. Please don’t tell them anything, at least not yet. I’ll be all right. Just be careful, and always know that I love you. No matter where you go or what you do, just believe that I love you, and will love you forever.”
He pulled her closer into his arms. “And I love you. I always will. I will make you my wife one day, and I don’t care who may not like it as long as I have you….”
Syntel opened his eyes. He had been at the academy only a couple of days when Ned had contacted him that Janeda had moved out of her apartment and hadn’t told anyone where she’d headed. He had almost gone out of his mind with worry, and when days passed with no word from her, he’d almost gone crazy. The only thing that had gotten him through his days at the academy was the belief that sooner or later she would contact him.
She never did.
He was sent to Vietnam directly from the academy. His father had tried to stop the order but had soon discovered that the Remington name hadn’t meant a thing to Uncle Sam.
Janeda never contacted him and when he returned to the States nearly twenty-four months later, he had tried finding her but couldn’t. He’d tried forgetting her but had been unsuccessful in that attempt, too. Years later, he’d hired an investigator who had concluded his report within weeks. Janeda had died of a bad case of acute pneumonia at the age of thirty while living in Dallas, Texas. The report had not mentioned anything about the fact that she had been survived by a child. His child.
The lump in his throat seemed to grow larger. He stood and walked to the window and looked out into the darkness. He had a daughter. A twenty-eight-year-old daughter that he hadn’t known about until tonight.
His child…Janeda’s child…their child.
Syneda Tremain Walters.
Syneda recognized the smell of spaghetti the moment she entered her apartment. A broad smile covered her face.
Clayton was here!
She called out to him and moments later he walked out of the kitchen and swept her into his arms, kissing her with a need that she returned. Finally she lifted her head after he had placed her back on her feet. “What are you doing here?”
He leaned down and kissed her moist lips. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Yes, but it’s Wednesday. I wasn’t expecting you until the weekend.”
“I missed you,” he responded huskily, cupping her chin and leaning down and kissing her once more. It was a deep kiss, long and warm. His lips left hers then moved to her ear, her temple, and her nose before retracing the path back to her mouth. The sensual force about to explode between them was acute. He pulled her closer to him. “Do we eat first or make love?”
Syneda looked up and studi
ed the face of the man she loved, the man she was going to marry. Desire-filled eyes stared down at her. She had missed him, too, and wanted nothing more than to lose herself in his arms, to lose her body in his.
Her hands slowly slid up his chest and around his neck. “Make love to me, Clayton. Now.”
He kissed her again as he swept her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
“I’m hungry.”
Clayton smiled at Syneda’s words. He lowered his head and placed a kiss on her lips. “You could have eaten first. I did give you a choice.”
“I know, but I preferred doing this first,” she said, smiling against his lips. She eased up on her elbow and looked down at him. “At this moment I’m happier than anyone deserves to be.”
He reached up and captured her face in the palm of his hand. “If there’s anyone who deserves to be happy, you’re that person.”
Clayton kissed her, knowing he had to discuss the reason he had come to see her during the middle of the week. He would never forget how Syntel had taken the news of Syneda’s existence. He had been filled with joy, sorrow and anger. Joy that Janeda had given him a daughter, sorrow that he had been cheated out of twenty-eight years of her life, and anger in knowing his father had been the cause of it.
A deep sigh escaped Clayton’s lips. He had had to explain to Syntel why it was so important how they handled revealing his identity to Syneda. As best he could, he had told him about Syneda’s rejection-and-abandonment complex, and how at first she would not accept a serious relationship between them because she had associated loving a man with abandonment and rejection. He had seen fresh tears cloud the older man’s eyes when he had told him how confident Janeda Walters had been when she’d been told upon her death bed that he would be coming for his daughter and how Syneda had waited patiently for him to come for her.
“Clayton, I’m hungry.”
Syneda’s words cut into Clayton’s thoughts. He smiled at her. “Then I guess I’d better feed you. But first I need to tell you something.”
She looked up at him curiously. “What?”
“We’ve been invited somewhere this weekend.”
“Oh? Where?”
Clayton reached up and traced his knuckle across her smooth skin. “To S. T. Remington’s ranch.”
Syneda’s eyes widened. “Really? Why?”
“He wants to meet you.”
She laughed. “Why would S. T. Remington want to meet me?”
He smiled, a slow, lazy smile. “He’s eaten up with curiosity about the woman who nabbed me from the throes of bachelorhood. Trust me, he’s dying to meet you.” Dying to meet her was an understatement, Clayton thought. Syntel had been ready to fly to New York and claim his daughter.
“Well, what about it, baby?”
Syneda leaned up and kissed him. “I had relished the idea of spending this weekend here alone with you. But if you want us to go, I will. Is anyone else going to be there?”
“Yes. Senator Lansing will be there, too. They’ve been best friends since college.”
Syneda nodded. “Then I’ll finally get the opportunity to meet the senator. I never did meet him at Whispering Pines.”
“Now you’ll have your chance.”
Syneda snuggled closer to Clayton. “Hmm, sounds like it will be a rather interesting weekend.”
Clayton pulled her to him. “Yeah, I have a feeling that it will be.”
“How did things go with S. T. Remington?” Braxter asked as he entered the senator’s office.
Senator Lansing sighed raggedly, pushing his chair back from his desk. “No different than I expected. Syntel loved Jan very much and to discover he had a child he didn’t know anything about because of the deceit of his father was a lot for him to take in.”
Braxter nodded. “I’m sure it was. Has Ms. Walters been told anything yet?”
“No. Clayton strongly suggested we wait until the weekend. He’s taking her to Syntel’s ranch then.”
“I hope things turn out all right. In their own way, both of them have suffered enough.”
“I fully agree.”
“Have you decided what you’re going to do about Senator Harris?”
“Yes. I’m not going to do anything. He didn’t get the report, and nothing has happened.”
“But he tried to ruin you.”
“And no doubt he’ll probably try again. I can’t go around worrying about people like him, Braxter. All I can do is continue to do the job I was sent here to do. I don’t have time to play games like Senator Harris is inclined to do.”
“So you’re going to let him get away with it?”
“Thanks to Celeste Rogers, he didn’t get away with anything.”
“Yes, thanks to Celeste Rogers,” Braxter said bitterly.
“Have you seen her since that night she brought the report here?”
“No, and I don’t intend to, either.”
“She apologized for what she’d done.”
“How can you forgive someone who has betrayed you? Someone who deliberately used you?”
A few seconds followed before the senator answered. “It can be done, Braxter, but you have to want to do it. None of us are perfect. All of us have flaws, and we all make mistakes. We don’t know why she did what she did initially. The only thing we do know is that in the end, because of you, she couldn’t go through with it. Forgiving someone is never easy. It takes a big person to say I’m sorry, but it takes an even bigger person to say I accept your apology and you’re forgiven.”
Braxter didn’t respond for the longest moment, then nodding his head, he turned and walked out of the office.
The snow was coming down in light flakes, the first for D.C. this winter. It took all of Braxter’s concentration to operate the car and not think about Celeste. He had not gotten a lot of work done today for thinking about her.
Suddenly his mind became filled with what the senator had said to him earlier that day…“It takes a big person to say I’m sorry, but it takes an even bigger person to say I accept your apology and you’re forgiven.”
He took a long, deep breath. For so long he had not allowed himself the time to get interested in anyone. He had been too busy to include a woman in his life, at least not seriously.
Not until he’d met Celeste.
When the car came to a stop at a traffic light, he shifted his weight in the seat and massaged the tightness at the base of his neck. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking of her. And no matter how much he tried he couldn’t stop loving her.
When the light signaled it was time to go, he found himself heading in the direction of Celeste’s apartment.
Celeste answered the knock at her door and was surprised to find Braxter’s tall figure filling the doorway.
“May I come in?”
Numb, she simply nodded and stepped aside.
For the longest time Braxter didn’t say anything to her, he just stood looking at her.
“Braxter, why are you here?”
He shook his head as if to clear it. “I asked myself a similar question while driving over here. I wasn’t completely sure until you opened the door. Now I know.”
He took her hand in his and led her over to the sofa where they sat down. “There’s a lot of things I don’t understand, but I want you to talk to me. Let’s get things out in the open. I want you to help me to understand your connection with Senator Harris, and why you did what you did.”
Celeste met his gaze, not believing he had actually come and was giving her an opportunity to explain things to him. She really couldn’t ask for any more than that.
At least it was a start.
Chapter 25
“You’re pretty good at flying this thing,” Syneda said, watching Clayton at the controls of the Cessna 310. She glanced around the cockpit of the small plane before returning her eyes to him. Although she disliked small planes, she couldn’t help admiring his abilities as a pilot. He handled the controls with
both ease and competency. They had been in the air fifteen minutes, and she had not experienced even the tiniest bit of queasiness.
“Thanks,” Clayton replied, casting her a smile. “And thanks again for taking this trip with me.”
“I didn’t mind. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.” Her lips twitched in amusement. “You evidently made a darn good impression on S. T. Remington when representing Caitlin in that land deal for the two of you to have gotten so chummy. I’m sure not too many people get invited to his ranch for the weekend. Anyone who keeps up with the lives of the rich and famous knows S. T. Remington is a very private person. I understand he’s very selective when choosing his friends and associates.”
Clayton grinned. “Remington and I aren’t chummy. I told you, you’re the reason for the invitation. He wanted to meet you.”
Syneda rolled her eyes upward. “Yeah, right.”
He smiled. He knew Syneda didn’t believe him. She thought he was getting together with Syntel Remington on business and had merely invited her along.
Syntel had contacted him yesterday to make sure they were still coming. He had also advised Clayton that after making a few phone calls, he’d been able to track down the investigator who had handled his search for Janeda years ago. Now retired, the man had remembered the assignment well, and what he’d told Syntel was no longer hard for him to believe. He had been paid a hefty sum by Syntel’s father to omit certain information in his report. Specifically, any information regarding Janeda’s child.
“Tighten up. It’s time to take this baby down,” Clayton said to Syneda moments later.
Clayton smoothly landed the small aircraft. “Syntel has sent someone to get us,” he told Syneda as he motioned to the vehicle parked near the runway. “We’ll be on our way to the ranch as soon as I check in.”
Not long afterward, they were on their way to the home of one of Texas’s richest oilmen. Syneda was not disappointed when the vehicle came to a stop in front of the big sprawling Spanish-style ranch house moments later. She had always thought the ranch house at Whispering Pines was huge but this one took the icing off the cake. It was surrounded by numerous flowering trees, plants and shrubs. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered to Clayton. “I can’t believe he lives here alone.”
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