by Rita Herron
With the Langworthy name, his son would not suffer that fate.
He would be educated, enjoy all the advantages the Centennial family could offer, be able to go anywhere and do anything he wanted, with any woman he chose. But if Schyler were torn between two worlds, what would happen to him
“Here, take this for your troubles.” Langworthy placed a folded check in his hand, watching Night assessingly. “You did a fine job of rescuing my daughter. Now, do the right thing, Walker, and let her get on her with her life.”
Night set the drink down with a bang, his chest churning. Anger bolted through him at Langworthy’s arrogance. Did he really think Night would accept money in exchange for his fatherly rights?
Still, part of him knew Langworthy was right about some things, that his son would have a more advantaged life with the Centennial family. Besides, Holly had never said she loved him. She hadn’t spoken up and claimed him as her baby’s father, not in the past seven months or today when she’d been given the opportunity. She probably never would.
And she hadn’t bothered to invite him back to the house or to see if he had arrived. She’d treated him just as her father had, like he was simply the hired hand. He’d gotten them home safely, now his job was done. He could fade back into the woodwork.
“I don’t want your money.” He tossed the check on the desk, and pivoted, moving on autopilot toward the door, his mind racing with uncertainty and the memory of the argument they’d had the night Langworthy had found him with Holly.
Langworthy caught him at the door and shoved the check in his pocket. “Take it as a bonus for bringing my daughter and grandson home safely.” Before Night could react, Samuel had ushered him through the foyer to the front door. Night reached in his pocket for the check to throw it back.
But the door closed behind him and he found himself standing on the front stoop before he could even reply. The bitter wind tore at him as did his decision. He loved his son desperately, wanted the best for him.
Would the best be walking away?
His heart hammering, he crushed the check in his fist and dropped it into the flower pot beside the front door, then strode toward the driver still parked out front, and climbed inside the limo. He needed to think. To have some space from Langworthy and from Holly.
“Denver airport,” he said.
The name bead necklace felt cold on his chest as he told his son a silent goodbye.
HOLLY STARED in shock as her father shut the door behind him, the realization that she’d just seen Samuel give Night a check slamming into her. Surely, he had paid for Night’s detective services. Her father wouldn’t try to bribe him to stay out of her life, would he? And Night wouldn’t accept….
“Daddy?”
He swung around from the front door, his expression startled. “What is it, honey?”
“Where did Night go?”
He scratched a hand over his face. “I believe he’s on his way to the airport.”
“Without even saying goodbye?”
He nodded, taking her arm and walking her toward the den. “He came to my office, said he wanted his money, and then left
“Money for what?”
He hesitated a fraction too long. “Now, Holly, don’t worry yourself with these things. You and the baby are back safe and sound, with us, that’s all that matters.”
Holly’s heart shattered into a million pieces. What about the evening she and Night had made love in the cave? And the night of passion they’d shared at the lodge? He’d held her as if she might break, had been so tender, protective, loving.
And before that, when they’d been running for their lives, when they’d joined hands and he’d told her to trust him seconds before they’d taken the leap off that ledge just as his grandparents had done?
Didn’t any of those moments mean anything to Night?
How could he just walk out on his baby after all they’d been through?
She jerked to a stop, and faced her father. “Daddy, what did you do?”
His eyes glinted with warning. “Don’t speak to me like that, Holly Langworthy. Not after what this family’s been through.”
“It was my baby who was missing, my life that has been turned upside down. And I wanted to talk to Night, to try and make it work between us.”
“Holly…” Samuel fisted his hands on his hips. “Walker understands that what the two of you had was a fling, sex, nothing more. He doesn’t want to be saddled down with a child when his life is in another place.”
Disbelief surged through her. “He told you that?”
He averted his gaze. “He agreed that Schyler is better off being raised a Langworthy than a Cheyenne. He can’t give the baby the things we can.”
“But, Daddy, I don’t care about those material things.”
Her father pounded on, relentless. “Did your hero speak up and claim that child when he had the chance? At any time during the past four months? When the reporter specifically asked about the father?”
Holly staggered backward. No, he hadn’t. But when he’d first learned he had a son, he claimed he wanted to be a part of his son’s life. And although they’d discussed teaching Sky the Cheyenne ways, he’d never spoken of love.
So, what had changed his mind? And how could he have deserted her and their baby without saying good-bye to either of them?
Chapter Fourteen
One week later
Night stared across the light blanket of white covering the six-thousand acres he called home, the Royal Flush. An emptiness gnawed at him that had started the minute he’d left the Langworthy mansion and his family behind. An emptiness that had grown on a daily basis.
Yes, Holly and Schyler were his family.
The name bead necklace tingled.
The first day he’d returned to the ranch, the Colorado Confidential agents had met to tie up loose ends on the investigation. The government had a handle on Grace’s research and were making headway in deciphering the various germ concoctions he’d created. Langworthy had reported that Holly had been tested and that there were no residual effects from whatever Mary had given her. Blood tests were pending, but so far the virus appeared to be a flu strain similar to the one that had infected Silver Rapids. They still had no word on the extra shooter, but believed he’d probably gone into hiding.
Things had temporarily settled down at Colorado Confidential headquarters, although there would be more cases to come. More crimes to solve, more horses to tame, one job that bled into another.
None of it seemed to have any meaning anymore.
Because he had lost the only thing that really mattered in his life.
He climbed off the black and white paint he’d spent the morning training and led her to the corral, deciding to reward the horse for her hard work with some free time. She had been so skittish when she’d first arrived that he hadn’t been able to go near her. She had made significant strides in the past few months.
Evan, the ranch foreman Dex’s nephew, sidled up next to him, hanging over the fence to watch. “Man, I wish I had your knack,” Evan said. “That horse was wild as the dickens when you first brought her here. I never thought I’d see the day when she’d eat out of your hand.”
“It just takes patience and a good ear,” Night said. “Let yourself relax enough to tune in to the animal’s fear. Speak to it.”
“I’ve tried,” Evan said. “But I just don’t get it. I think it’s a gift you’re born with, just like your heritage.”
“You think my heritage is a gift?”
Evan shrugged. “Sure. It makes you special.”
Night jerked his head toward Evan. The young man always tagged along after Night when he worked with the horses. The kid was honest, hardworking and thought his uncle Dex a hero.
Just as a son might.
He imagined Schyler growing up here, hanging on to the fence to watch him work, tagging along behind him as Evan did. He saw Holly riding across the field, the three of them p
icnicking out by the stream. Holly round with another child. Schyler asking a million questions, learning to ride…
How would his own son see him? As a hero for giving him up, for letting him be raised a Langworthy? Or would Schyler resent him, believe Night had deserted him because he hadn’t cared? Just as he’d felt his father had deserted him when he’d died… But his father hadn’t had a choice. Night did.
And what about Holly?
He’d seen pictures of her in the Denver paper this last week. The Langworthys had staged a big celebratory party to show off her and Sky. The governor and all the powerhouses in Colorado had been in attendance, along with all the society crowd Celia circulated with. Night would never have fit in at the party. His son looked part Cheyenne though, how had he fit in? Had anyone noticed his native heritage yet?
In the pictures, Holly had looked amazing, her chestnut hair flowing over the shoulders of an emerald green evening gown that accentuated those luminous eyes. But she’d also seemed sad. Her green eyes hadn’t been laughing. Was she grateful he’d made things easier for her by walking away, or had she wanted to see him half as much as he wanted her?
If she had, why hadn’t she spoken up or tried to reach him?
Memories of his mother trying to explain his father’s absence nearly choked him. He had blamed her. Would his son blame Holly?
No, but he would hate Night…
Unless he adopted another man as his father.
Night’s stomach tightened at the thought, Carlton Sanders’s face materializing. Sanders hadn’t been in the news pictures though. Night had been surprised but relieved.
Still, something about the photo nagged at him, just like it had the day he’d left the Langworthys after the reunion home. Some detail about Schyler’s kidnapping that bothered him early on.
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he kept feeling there was something all the agents had missed.
HOLLY ROCKED Schyler in the rocking chair, mesmerized by the way her son grew and changed each day. She should be satisfied with her life now that she had her son back in her arms, but a part of her ached for more. For a while, in that cave, she’d allowed herself to imagine raising Schyler in her own little family.
But Night was gone.
She’d thought each day without him would get easier, but the pain of his loss had spread through her and mounted in intensity each day. Sky seemed to miss him, too, sometimes looking around the room as if he was searching for him.
But Night still hadn’t called. Not even to ask about his son.
She’d told herself her father was wrong, that Night really cared for her and Sky, that the passionate way he’d made love to her, the way he’d protected them on the ledge, the story of Lillian’s Leap, that it had all meant something. So, why had he deserted them?
Because he didn’t want to be tied to her?
“Da-da.”
“Yes, I’m thinking about your daddy,” Holly whispered. “You miss him, too, don’t you, son?”
Memories of the past week taunted her. Once she had enjoyed all the parties at the mansion, her parents’ doting attention, the idea of working for her father, handling his investments and serving on her mother’s charities, but now…now those things seemed trivial. In the evening, when she lay alone in the dark, she actually imagined herself back in that cave with her son and Night, just the three of them. Safe. Alone. Together.
A real family.
She stood and lay Schyler in his crib for his afternoon nap, then went downstairs to the computer. She’d thought a lot about the Native reservations and had researched their needs. She had an idea sitch to her father, but she was determined to present a well-thought-out proposal, one that he couldn’t refuse, especially when she planned to implement her idea as a tribute to her son’s heritage.
Even if Night didn’t intend to acknowledge his son, she would learn as much as she could about the Cheyenne people and pass it on to Schyler.
As she approached her father’s office, she heard arguing from the inside. Her parents rarely fought, but Celia’s voice rang through the partially opened door.
“You shouldn’t have interfered, Samuel. You went too far this time.”
“A man has to protect his family.”
“Is that what you did? Or are you so afraid of losing your youngest daughter that you offered the man a bribe just to get rid of him?”
Holly pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. Her father had made it sound like Night had asked for the money.
“Of course, I was trying to protect Holly. Do you know how many men would pursue her for her money? She’s too trusting and innocent.”
“I don’t believe Night Walker is interested in the Langworthy fortune.”
Langworthy’s voice rose, “He didn’t have to take the check I wrote, but he did.”
“No, he didn’t,” Celia said, furious. “The gardener found your check crumpled up in the flower pot beside the front door.” Celia paced across the room. “Good Lord, Samuel, what were you thinking?”
Holly clutched the doorway and pushed her way inside.
“Is that true, Father?”
Samuel turned from the fireplace and stared at her, shaking his head. “I had to see what he really wanted from you, Holly. You’ve got to understand, Baby, I did it for you.”
“You ran him off.” Anger hardened Holly’s words. “For God’s sake, Daddy, he’s my baby’s father, the only man I’ve ever loved!” She did love him, she realized, more than she’d ever thought she could love a person. Their first night of passion hadn’t been simply sex, or hormones out of control, or rebellious behavior against the restraints of being a Langworthy, she loved everything about Night, with all her heart. Maybe her love would be enough for both of them.
“You may think you love him,” her father said, “but he left, didn’t he? Without even saying goodbye.”
“He must have been upset—”
“Don’t make excuses for him, Holly. The man knows Schyler is better off being raised as a Langworthy.”
Holly glared at her father, stunned he could be so arrogant. She had to leave. She couldn’t stay here any longer. She turned toward the door, but her father caught her arm.
“Please listen, sweetheart. You’re hurt now, but you know I’m right. Walker did the noble thing by walking away. It’s best for Sky this way, he’ll have a better life.”
“Noble?” Holly ouldn’t stomach any more of his controlling attitude. “How can my son have a better life if he grows up thinking his father didn’t love him? That his own grandfather is ashamed that he’s part Cheyenne?”
Her father blanched. “You’re twisting my words—”
“Samuel,” Celia warned. “This is between Holly and Night.”
“I’m just trying to protect you,” her father said.
“You’ve protected me all my life.” Holly jerked free of her father’s arm. “But I don’t need you hovering over me anymore. I have to get out of here.”
“Are you going to see him?” Celia asked softly.
Holly hesitated. Could she shed her pride and throw herself at Night again? Even though she was furious at her father, he was right—Night had left without saying goodbye. He hadn’t declared his love, hadn’t even phoned… “I don’t know. I’m going to take Schyler to the cabin so I can think for a few days. I can’t deal with anything else right now.”
She bolted through the door, then headed upstairs to pack. She had to escape her father’s suffocating house. Work on her plan. Figure out what she was going to do with her life.
And what she could do about Night.
HE SAT in the dark sedan in the shadows down the street from the Langworthy mansion, biding his time. The pictures of the Langworthy family that were plastered all over the front pages of the newspapers made his skin crawl.
The party should have included him. His face should have been in those photographs, his name in the paper, the people admiring him instead of Josh
ua.
Joshua, the new governor, the poster boy for the great American family, the Goody Two-shoes who smiled at the camera and kissed his nephew. A Kennedy in the making.
Joshua had robbed him of his position.
And there was Samuel Langworthy, the one who’d pushed his son to run for office.
Then, Holly, the little Miss Innocent of the bunch, the one who’d spread her legs for the detective and spawned the illegitimate baby. The illegitimate baby who had stolen the hearts of the public because of the kidnapping.
It was time. He had just been waiting for his opening. For the moment he could get her alone, without all that damn security.
Holly Langworthy suddenly appeared, driving like a bat out of hell away from the mansion. Excitement pinged through him. This was it.
His patience had finally paid off.
He shifted into gear and coasted along behind, making sure he didn’t get too close but keeping her in his sight. Where was she going? To Walker? No, he couldn’t let her get that far.
Then she turned. Headed out of town, toward Aspen. It hit him—the Langworthy cabin. The princess liked to hide out there sometimes.
He threw his head back and laughed. Perfect. Where better to enordeal than the secluded cabin that belonged to his enemy?
OFF AND ON, all day, Night had sensed trouble. The beads around his neck tingled again for the dozenth time. He couldn’t ignore his instincts.
His anxiety had something to do with those pictures and the case. Remembering that shooter was on the run in the mountains, and his concern that Grace had hired help, he once again checked the transcripts of Grace’s statement. He’d finally talked, but he’d denied hiring anyone but Bertram and Mary.
Night’s heart pounded. That could only mean one thing. Someone besides Grace had wanted them dead.
He had to speak to Holly just to make certain she and his son were safe.
Not wanting to panic her, he reviewed the picture again, then studied the transcripts of all the interviews he and the other Confidential operatives had conducted during the investigation to see if he could figure out who the person might be.