Expecting His Secret Heir

by Dani Wade

  Because the core of her mission was the opposite of everything he held dear.

  Only she couldn’t turn away from these few weeks of pure bliss. That had been selfish on her part—indecisive, too. But she couldn’t change it—not her choices, nor what had pushed her into those choices.

  But she wasn’t making excuses or asking forgiveness. She didn’t deserve it.

  “I’m sorry, Zach.” It was as far as she could let herself go. Anything more and she’d fall to her knees right here, begging for the one thing he would never give her now: his love.

  She expected him to let loose that rage on her. To rant or throw things or scream. His father would have. His half brother certainly would have.

  Zach did none of that.

  Instead he turned and stalked to the door. He was probably done with her. But despite her resolutions, she found she couldn’t keep one thing inside. The one thing he deserved to know.

  “But I do have one last thing to say, Zach. And I mean it with everything in me. That you are a good man.”

  He paused before the door but didn’t turn around, didn’t grant her one last glimpse of a face carved in stone. Instead he said, “Pardon me if that offers very little consolation.”

  She was sure it didn’t.

  * * *

  Somehow, some way, Zach managed to get through what he absolutely had to that afternoon without exploding, and then he ditched the rest of his appointments. His car ate up the miles to the airport. His only thought was of running, fast and far, but where—he didn’t know.

  The cabin wasn’t an option right now. The memories were too fresh, would be too painful. Only now did he regret taking Sadie there, because even a complete makeover would never erase her presence in what had once been his sanctuary.

  Anger had him pressing on the gas that much harder. He was anxious for speed even though it wouldn’t really help anything. That’s when his phone dinged to signal an incoming text.

  Sadie. He knew it before he even looked. His instinct was to hurl the phone out the window, but that would be giving in too easily, so he forced himself to pull over and read the text instead.

  I’ve gone home. The room at the B&B is paid thru end of week. Left some of ur things on table and some important papers for you. I’m so sorry. S

  Zach let his eyes slide closed. He didn’t want to see the screen, didn’t want to read about how sorry she was. If she’d been sorry, she never would have lied to him. Hell, she never would have come here. Why would she do something so incredibly dishonest?

  No, he didn’t want to know. Motive didn’t matter, because he refused to feel sorry for someone who would go to so much trouble to integrate herself into his life, his bed, just to find out if he was a bad person.

  And who was his dad to judge? That man had never done anything good in his entire life. He’d abandoned Zach’s mother when he was little, simply vanished, never paying a lick of child support or sending so much as a single birthday present or Christmas gift. They’d been okay. They’d made it without the old SOB. But that seemed to make the terms of his will even more ironic.

  There had to be more to the story than what Sadie had told him.

  Some important papers for you.

  Dammit. He spun the car into a U-turn and headed back into town. No matter what he told himself, he really did want to know what was going on.

  He flashed a strained smile at Gladys when she glanced out at him from the dining area as he made his way through, but didn’t speak. Neither did she. Did she realize Sadie was gone? Or had Sadie simply left without saying anything so Zach would have a chance to come by and collect his stuff without Gladys’s interference? He didn’t know what to think anymore.

  He let himself into the room, noticing Sadie’s absence at once. The low table no longer held her laptop, just a pile of odds and ends. Her robe wasn’t thrown over the high back of the winged chair near the dresser. Her extra fluffy blanket no longer graced her side of the queen-size bed.

  But her vanilla-caramel scent still lingered in the air. Tantalizing, but also a reminder of how deceptive that sweetness truly was.

  Zach dropped onto the couch in front of his stuff. A T-shirt he’d left here. A toiletry bag with an extra toothbrush and deodorant and things for his overnight stays. His black leather belt. He wished now that there hadn’t been so many nights, that she hadn’t made it so easy.

  Next to the pile was a manila envelope. Zach stared for a long time before he made himself reach out and open it. The quality of the fax wasn’t the best, but it was still readable. The time stamp along the top showed she’d had this sent not long after their talk this afternoon.

  The letterhead was from a lawyer’s office in Dallas. The text below explained that this lawyer was in the process of executing Zach’s father’s last will and testament. Based on his father’s unusual requests, adequate time had been given to search every avenue necessary. If Zach had any questions, he was welcome to call them for explanations.

  Should he wish to refuse his inheritance, there were instructions on how to do that and what that would mean for him in terms of future claims. The exact sum wasn’t mentioned, but Zach was guessing it was significant for a lawyer to have been hired to set up something this elaborate.

  The lawyer seemed like a man who knew what he was doing. Zach planned to reserve judgment until he had experience with the guy himself.

  The envelope also contained what looked like legal papers that Zach would look over in more depth later. There was a photograph of a man Zach assumed to be his father. It was blurred with age. But Zach wasn’t that interested in the picture; he’d put his father out of his mind long ago. After all, his father hadn’t been willing to think about Zach or his mother when he’d left them. Zach had been four at the time.

  There was a professional bio. From what Zach read, his father had hit oil when he’d traveled to Texas a couple of years after abandoning them. Of course, he hadn’t looked back to the family he’d left behind. Zach’s mother had worked her fingers to the bone to provide for him, and later KC. She’d deserved better than that.

  As if she’d known he would be curious, Sadie had printed an article about his father’s stroke and how it had affected his company. Apparently he was well-known in the Dallas area. Zach scanned it and moved on to the next piece. It was another photo, this one of a younger man with distinct features matching his father’s. This one was labeled Victor Beddingfield.

  Zach couldn’t help it—he studied the picture for any resemblance to his half brother. There were a few. Zach certainly hoped he didn’t share the petulant expression and self-indulgent softness that didn’t sit well on an adult male.

  All in all, the envelope contained straightforward information that Zach could take or leave. It all depended on his plans. He put the papers back. He could find out pretty much everything he needed to know about the players in this game at his office, now that he knew where to start.

  This time, he wasn’t about to hesitate to dig hard and deep.

  Standing, he loaded his arms with everything that belonged to him. He had no intention of leaving anything of himself in this place. As he moved toward the door, he remembered another time, the first time, when he’d faced the same choice. He’d had the chance to exit and never look back, but the lure of Sadie had been too strong.

  He glanced toward the bed. The same one that had tempted him that first night here. Memories of nights wrapped around Sadie under those covers made him ache with a mixture of desire, sadness and anger. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get over that. Maybe one day he would. Maybe one day he wouldn’t think of her at all, and he could live the rest of his life without thinking her name or remembering her face.

  Maybe one day.

  As he turned toward the door, a glimpse of something that didn’t belong flashed in hi
s periphery. Something neglected on the floor between the antique nightstand and the bed. Zach should leave it. After all, the odds of it being his were slim.

  Still, his feet carried him forward, and he cursed himself the entire way for caring that she might have left something of herself behind.

  He shifted his load into one arm then bent low and patted around for whatever it was. Finally his fingers brushed against something hard. Long and rounded, it fit easily in his hand as he picked it up.

  Zach glanced down as he stood, then totally wished he hadn’t.

  His mind flashed back to another day. One when he found his sister crying all alone at the bar, late at night after everyone had left. In her hand was an identical white plastic stick with a plastic cap on the end. There were two solid pink lines in the little window in the middle. He dropped onto the bed, and wondered if this day could get any worse.

  Sixteen

  Sadie quietly let herself into her apartment early the next morning, her body beyond tired. Sitting at the airport on standby was hellish on a good day. Yesterday had been almost unbearable.

  She set down her luggage and made her way down the hall into the living area. Maybe she could catch a few winks before her mother woke up to get ready to go to the treatment center to see her sister. How in the world Sadie would explain to either of them what had happened was beyond her at the moment.

  Zach hadn’t been the only person she’d lied to. Despite their desperate need, Sadie had known her mother and sister would have never condoned her cooperation with Victor’s diabolical plan to disqualify Zach from his inheritance. So she’d told them the same story: that their former employer had gifted her with the trip of her dreams to explore her photography.

  Now she had to find a way to tell them the truth.

  As she came into the spacious room, she saw her mother sleeping on the overstuffed couch. Sadie frowned, worried for a moment that something had happened. Or maybe her mother had fallen asleep waiting for her to arrive. But a soft sound drew her gaze in the other direction, where she found her sister propped in the recliner Sadie kept angled toward the line of windows along the front of the room.

  But her sister wasn’t watching the early-morning sun as it lit up the rolling lawns of the Beddingfield estate. Instead her gaze met Sadie’s. Tears stung Sadie’s nose and eyes as her sister gifted her with a weak smile of welcome.

  Quickly crossing the room, she bent over and carefully pulled Amber close. She still had an IV attached to keep her from dehydrating. But otherwise she was awake, and the staff must have thought her well enough to come home for a while.

  Bending down, she met her sister’s eyes, green like her own, and whispered, “When did you get here?”

  Amber grinned, though she didn’t lift her head from where it rested on the chair. “Just yesterday. We were gonna Skype you last night, but when you called to say you were coming home we decided to surprise you.”

  “Well, I definitely am.”

  Her sister’s thin hair had been cropped close, leaving a pale auburn halo of curls that highlighted the too-prominent cheekbones in her pale face. Sadie brushed her fingers over the softness. “How are you, kiddo?”

  “My white blood count is closer to normal, for now. Electrolytes are good. And I tolerated this latest round of treatments better than they expected, so I got to come home a few days early.”

  “That’s great.”

  “She’s getting stronger,” their mother said. Sadie glanced over at her; she hadn’t moved but had opened her eyes to watch her daughters. “The doctors are quite pleased.”

  “I bet.”

  Any improvement in Amber’s condition was considered wonderful at this stage. Their goal now was to halt the deterioration from the disease and keep her as pain-free as possible, without the disorientation and fatigue that could come from the wrong drug combinations.

  “I’m so glad you’re home,” Amber said, reaching out to squeeze Sadie’s hand.

  The chill from her sister’s skin always startled Sadie. She reached up with her other hand, creating a little sandwich pocket in an effort to warm the cold fingers with her own. It never seemed to help, but Amber told her it felt good, so Sadie had formed the habit over time.

  “And just why are you home?” her mother asked.

  Her tone said she knew something was up. Not that Sadie was very good at hiding things. Or maybe she was too good, since she’d been able to deceive Zach for so long. “It was time,” she said simply.

  It was more than time to cut the ties. Maybe Zach seeing that text was for the best, even though her breaking heart didn’t think so. If it had been up to her, she inevitably would have delayed. And then where would she be?

  She pressed her sister’s hand a little more tightly. “You rest a bit. I’ll fix you some tea,” she said.

  “That would be good.” But Amber didn’t close her eyes. Instead she turned back to gaze out the window. She’d often told Sadie that she slept enough at the treatment center, pumped up on pain meds and other drugs. When she was home, she wanted to experience life, even if it was only through the window of their apartment.

  Trying hard not to let a new wave of tears overwhelm her, Sadie retraced her steps down the hall to the kitchen. As expected, Sadie’s mother joined her.

  “For someone who has just been on the trip of their dreams, you do not look like you had a very restful time,” her mother said quietly.

  Sadie appreciated her mother’s attempt to keep Amber from hearing her.

  “That’s because I lied,” she said, figuring the straightforward approach was probably best.

  There was no shock from her mother, only an understanding nod. “I see.”

  Why did life have to be so hard? “I did a very bad thing, Mom.”

  “I’m sure you did.”

  Sadie glanced over in surprise, spilling a bit of water over the edge of the electric kettle. “What? Why would you think that?”

  “Sadie,” she said with a sad shake of her head, “when was Mr. Beddingfield ever involved in anything good? Yes, he might have changed his perspective somewhat on his deathbed, but that man never did something only from goodness. There was always an ulterior motive.”

  Ulterior motive indeed. “Mr. Beddingfield didn’t send me on this trip. Victor did.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened. “Yes, I can see why you didn’t share that with me. There is nothing benevolent in that man. I was surprised to even come home to find our stuff still here yesterday. I couldn’t figure out why he hasn’t made us leave the estate yet.”

  “It was part of our agreement,” Sadie confessed.

  Then she went on to tell her mother the how and why of her trip back to Black Hills, South Carolina. About halfway through she looked away, unable to bear what was sure to be her mother’s disappointment in her. She managed to keep the tears at bay until she mentioned the baby she was now sure she carried.

  The silence of several minutes was only broken by the release of steam from the kettle. Sadie couldn’t bring herself to steep her sister’s tea. Instead she remained with her arms braced against the counter, praying that the pain in her heart would ease enough to let her breathe again.

  “So this man, Zach, will we be seeing him again?” her mother asked.

  Sadie nodded. “I’ll have to tell him about the baby, but it was so new, I just...couldn’t.” A deep breath braced her for her latest decision. “I will contact him soon enough, but I want to be established in a new job, a new place to live. I just couldn’t bear to give him the impression that I told him about the baby to get some of his money.”

  “But Sadie, how will we afford—”

  “I don’t know. We just will. Somehow.” But she knew beyond a doubt she couldn’t face asking Zach for money. She wasn’t even sure she would be
able to take it if he offered. So much of this whole situation had been motivated by her struggles to simply keep their heads above water.

  But other people would only see it as greed.

  “We will figure something out,” she assured her mother with a false smile. “I’ll start looking for another job today. One thing—the only good thing—Mr. Beddingfield did was to safeguard me against any attempt Victor made to discredit me. I have a certified reference from him, with his lawyer’s signature as witness. That will at least give me a place to start.”

  Some of the strain on her mother’s face eased. “Yes, it will help. I could look for something—”

  “Absolutely not.” They’d had this discussion time and again. “Amber needs you with her. We both know that. I’ll fix this, somehow.”

  Even if the solution was a complete and total mystery to her right now.

  * * *

  Zach took a seat in the substantial waiting area at the offices of Beddingfield’s lawyer, Timberlake. Apparently, Beddingfield Senior had been a big man in town, and he’d paid for the best in everything. Including lawyers.

  Zach couldn’t bring himself to think of the man as his father. He’d contributed DNA, but that was about it.

  Except now, after his death, he was about to gift Zach with a fortune that still boggled his mind, according to his phone conversations with the lawyer. Beddingfield hadn’t just hit it big in the oil business after coming to Texas, he’d then diversified, which had protected his assets from market fluctuations and downturns. Zach would be in a tax bracket far removed from the one he’d moved into after opening his own business. The thought was so far outside reality that he’d stopped trying to comprehend it.

  But in terms of the man who’d sired him—it was a case of too little, too late.

  Zach had chosen to make an impromptu trip to Dallas before telling his family all that had transpired. He preferred to have all the facts at hand first.

  Besides, his sister had become increasingly curious about Sadie, not buying Zach’s excuse that she’d returned home for a family emergency. Of course, after his investigation into her history, that excuse might not have been as far from reality as he’d thought when he made it up.