by Jeanne Allan
Allie gave Zane a startled look. “I think I heard a buzzer go off in the kitchen. I’d better check the baked beans.”
Worth and Norton hooted at the notion of Zane being sexy.
He ignored them, watching Allie bolt into the house. He’d thought she’d gotten over her habit of changing the subject or running away rather than tell a lie. She certainly hadn’t had any trouble looking him in the eye while she uttered one falsehood after another.
“Really, I don’t need help cooking,” Allie said.
Greeley herded Allie out to the back porch. “We didn’t come out to the kitchen to help you cook.”
Cheyenne shut the screen door behind them. “What’s wrong?”
Well acquainted with the look on Cheyenne’s face, Allie had no hope she’d be allowed to escape. Putting off the inevitable, she said, “Nothing’s wrong. I need to stir the beans.”
“You just stirred them.” Cheyenne blocked the door. “Why the frantic summons to a party?”
“There wasn’t anything frantic about it. Hannah and I decided to give a party.”
“You know once Cheyenne gets the bit in her teeth she won’t let go, so you may as well ’fess up, Allie. Zane looks like a trainload of dynamite about to blow up, and you’re skittering around like grease on a hot skillet. What’s going on?”
Allie looked at her sisters in mingled exasperation and affection. “We’ve never given a party together, that’s all.”
The looks on her sisters’ faces told her they had no intention of letting her brush them off.
She capitulated. In a roundabout way. She desperately needed a second opinion. If she’d been wrong... “Greeley, do you remember that time when you were about ten or eleven and you came home crying because someone said you didn’t look like Cheyenne and me? You said they meant you weren’t a member of our family.”
Greeley nodded. “I remember. Worth said I should count my blessings I didn’t look like a couple of tall, skinny, blond bimbos. Cheyenne wanted to make the person apologize. You said you liked how I looked, and Mom said how I looked inside was what counted.”
“And Grandpa said we were like cattle.” The three sisters said the words in unison and laughed.
Cheyenne shook her head. “Grandpa always knew which calf went with which cow. He said it was a matter of knowing what to look for.”
“Mom brought out the family pictures and we studied them,” Allie said. “We figured out all four of us have Beau’s mouth and cheekbones, that Greeley has Beau’s hair and eyebrows, and the rest of us have Mom’s height and coloring.”
Greeley grinned. “Remember how mad Worth was when he realized his mouth looked like his sisters’?”
Cheyenne gave Alhe a curious look. “Why are you bringing that up now?”
“Studying other people until we could pick out in a crowd who was related to whom became a game with us. The ability came in handy when I taught. These days kids have so many stepmothers and stepdads and half siblings and stepwhatevers... Knowing what to look for kept me from making some major goofs.”
“Allie,” Cheyenne prodded.
Allie pulled on the pot holder she held in her hand. “Zane thinks Hannah isn’t his child.”
“Get serious,” Greeley said. “With those eyebrows? Does she have the crooked fingers?”
At Allie’s nod, Cheyenne said, “Where did Zane get such a crazy idea?”
“Kim Taylor.” Allie explained the whole convoluted mess.
“Once the test results come back, Zane will agree that taking them was the smart thing to do,” her younger sister said.
Cheyenne gave Allie a sharp look. “What’s the part you’re not telling us?”
Allie shrugged. “That’s pretty much it. Of course Zane is furious about Sean coming this afternoon, and it’s perfectly obvious he thinks I invited Sean even though I told him I didn’t.” Words she hadn’t intended to say rushed out. “Zane thinks I’m trying to make him lose Hannah to pay him back for marrying Kim instead of me five years ago. I admitted to him that initially I wanted revenge, but how can he think I’m capable of something so unconscionable? He says he wants me to get out, then he says he wants us to start over, then he says it’s too late to start over. I never should have married him.”
“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have invited him to my wedding,” Cheyenne said.
“We can’t worry about what everyone should or shouldn’t have done,” Greeley said. “Allie’s problem now is what to do about Zane.”
“That’s easy.” Mary Lassiter’s voice came from the other side of the screen. “Just shoot him.”
Allie jumped. “Mom. How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know if Zane were a horse, you’d tell his owner to put him down.”
“I have never ever told an owner to put down a horse. If a horse has behavior problems, it’s usually because some person caused those problems.” Allie didn’t like what her mother was implying. “It’s not my fault Zane doesn’t trust me. He dumped me. I didn’t dump him. And what is so reprehensible about marrying him for his daughter’s sake?”
“Allie,” her mother chided gently, “I heard what you said. You married Zane to exact revenge.”
“I changed my mmd,” Allie said defensively.
Her mother gave her a look of maternal reproach. “You’re the one who says if there’s a problem with a horse, a person needs to look at the problem from the horse’s point of view.”
Cheyenne opened the screen door and ushered her mother into the screened room with a sweeping arm gesture and a deep bow. “The Queen of Wisdom has arrived with her usual keen perception.”
“Color me stupid,” Allie said, “because I have no clue what you are talking about. Zane’s point of view is that I’m so despicable I’d plot to make him lose his daughter.”
“We’ll hold off the hungry hordes,” Greeley said.
Allie’s sisters went into the kitchen, softly closing the screen door and the solid door behind them.
Mary sat on a battered sofa and patted the space beside her. “Why would Zane think you want him to lose Hannah?”
Allie sat with poor grace. “How should I know? I told him Hannah is his daughter. I researched the information on DNA testing for him so the matter could be settled before it became a real mess. I persuaded Sean Doyle to take the test. I did everything I could to prove to Zane that Hannah is his daughter.”
“Love gets pretty complicated, doesn’t it?”
“I’m not talking about love. I’m talking about trust, and the bottom line is, Zane doesn’t trust me. I started the wheels in motion about the paternity tests because I thought that was best for Zane and Hannah. Why doesn’t he see that?”
Mary Lassiter put an arm around Allie’s shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. “You need to be patient with Zane. Kim was unfaithful and untrustworthy. She convinced him he wasn’t the father of her child. The child he’d not only accepted full responsibility for, at great personal sacrifice, but deeply loves.”
“I’m not Kim Taylor.”
“I know that, Allie, but look at your behavior from Zane’s point of view. Greeley told me what you said at the hospital when Hannah broke her arm. She said Zane heard you. You told Zane you’d marry him, but the day of the wedding, you said you wouldn’t marry him, and then you changed your mind again. How can he know what to expect from you? You admitted to him you married him for revenge. Of course he’s confused and distrustful. He doesn’t know what you want from him.” Mary looked her middle daughter in the eye. “Do you?”
When Allie didn’t answer, Mary said, “I think I’ll join the others on the porch. I haven’t had an opportunity to ask Kristy how she’s feeling with her pregnancy.”
Allie followed her mother into the house. While Mary continued down the hallway, Allie checked the beans in the oven, her mother’s question echoing in her head. She didn’t want anything from Zane Peters.
She certainly didn’t w
ant to be pregnant like Kristy Norton. Kristy and Jake had been trying for years to start a family. Allie had heard their hopes, their dreams.
When she and Zane had been engaged, they’d spent hours discussing the children they expected to have. How many of each sex, the names, who to pick for godparents, books they intended to read to them...
When Zane had a real wife, would he eventually want more children?
Idle curiosity prompted the question. Nothing more.
What would it be like to hold an infant version of Hannah to her breast?
She’d never know.
Favorable results of the DNA tests would change nothing. Zane was doing an excellent job of raising Hannah. Allie didn’t know why he’d married her in the first place. Then the answer practically hit her in the face. Kim had convinced him he wasn’t Hannah’s biological father, so Zane had hoped being married would help him gain custody of Hannah if what he believed to be the truth came out.
But she was sure he was Hannah’s father, so he wouldn’t need Allie to stay.
Which was fine with her. She didn’t want to stay.
Pinning a smile on her face, Allie went in search of Zane to ask if he was ready to cook the steaks.
He’d left the porch. Looking around she spotted him fiddling with the barbecue grill. Sean Doyle stood beside him. Not liking the tension visible between the two men, Allie hurried off the porch to join them. Deep in conversation, neither man noticed her approach.
“I’m not leaving Hannah with you.” Sean said in a stubborn voice. “A jealous reporter could dig that up and twist the facts around until I looked like one of those deadbeat dads everybody fusses about. I’d lose half my female fans.”
“Being Hannah’s father isn’t about your career,” Zane said tightly. “She needs me.” He paused, then added softly, “I need her.”
“Look, I’m sorry, Peters, I really am. I know this mess isn’t your fault, and it’s too bad you got caught in the middle, but it’s not like it’s the end of the world for you. I can’t have more kids. I had a vasectomy a couple years ago. Allie can give you all the kids you want. You won’t even miss Hannah.”
Zane’s face darkened with fury. “You just proved you’re not fit to be Hannah’s father. Allie can’t make up for losing Hannah.”
She must have made a sound because Zane abruptly turned and saw her. Sean Doyle mumbled something and walked away. He left behind a silence which stretched endlessly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ZANE couldn’t identify the emotion on Allie’s face. He’d almost think she looked stricken. Which spoke volumes about his inability to read people. Allie hated him. She didn’t want to bear his children. She wanted to rob him of the only child he had. He wouldn’t let her. “If you’d ever had a child, you’d know they aren’t replaceable like cans of peas,” he said harshly.
Her face paled. “I came to tell you everything is ready. You can put the steaks on whenever you want.”
Zane watched her walk away. His cruelty disgusted him. Striking out at Allie solved nothing. He knew he’d hurt her. Sorrow weighed him down. Their love, once so beautiful and full of promise, had degenerated to this ugly need to wound each other. He should call her back. To apologize. To lie to her. To tell her she’d misunderstood what he’d said to Doyle. To tell her she and her children could replace Hannah.
Resisting the urge to smash his fist into the barbecue grill, he stood silent. He’d never lied to Allie in the past, and he wasn’t about to start now. Allie and he didn’t have much between them. They ought to have the truth.
No one could replace Hannah.
With Beau Lassiter for a father, Allie couldn’t possibly understand the love a man had for his child.
A horse whinnied in the pasture. Further away Zane’s elderly stallion answered. A younger stallion covered the mares now, but Boreas retained a place in Zane’s heart. The black quarter horse had given Zane and his parents years of companionship, not to mention fathering a long line of strong-boned, intelligent sons and daughters.
Zane wanted a son, but not to replace Hannah. He’d love any child of his as much as he loved Hannah. Loving one child didn’t mean a man couldn’t love another. And loving Hannah as he did, didn’t mean a man couldn’t love a woman.
Not that he’d ever love a woman again. He’d only loved one woman in his life, and she’d betrayed him.
Maybe one day he’d appreciate the irony of Allie hating Hannah. Knowing Allie would never bear a daughter of his, he’d named Hannah after his grandmother because Allie had loved the name. The choice of name had been both a pathetic, sloppy, sentimental way of keeping Allie in his heart and a lucky talisman for Hannah. A damned curse was more like it.
“Daddy, when we gonna get hot dogs?”
“Hot dogs!” Worth roared. “I drove all this way for hot dogs?”
Hannah’s giggle constricted Zane’s throat.
“Hot dogs for me and Davy, silly,” she said.
“Call me silly, will you?”
Hannah dissolved into laughter as Worth swooped her up into his arms. “Silly, silly, silly!”
“He’s your uncle,” Greeley admonished. “You can’t call him silly. You have to call him Uncle Silly.”
“Uncle Silly. Uncle Silly.”
Davy joined in, chanting along with Hannah. “Uncle Silly. Uncle Silly.”
Davy was a good kid. He treated Hannah with a mixture of toleration and condescension, as if she were truly his younger cousin. Hannah adored the attention from Allie’s family.
Hannah’s maternal grandparents had refused to come to the barbecue. The only bright spot in Zane’s day.
Firming his spine, Zane joined the group on the porch. He wouldn’t ruin Hannah’s party. For today he’d pretend life was the way he wished it were.
“I’m stuffed. Think I need to walk some of that food off.” Worth hauled himself off the top step of the porch. “How ’bout you, Greeley?”
“Sure.” She jumped to her feet.
“That’s a good idea,” Allie said, starting to rise.
“Where you going?” Worth scowled at her. “We don’t want her, do we, Greeley?”
Allie’s youngest sister shook her head. “We vant to be alone,” she said in an exaggerated throaty voice.
Their response dumbfounded Zane. The four Lassiters were about as close as siblings could get.
He turned to Allie for enlightenment. She’d sunk back in her chair. A frown wrinkled her brow, then her eyes widened in sudden comprehension, and she became extremely interested in the porch floor.
Everyone began talking at once, in loud, stilted voices, the kind people use to get past an awkward moment. They laughed at stupid jokes, and followed with stupider jokes. Allie attempted to join in their hilarity, but Zane could tell her heart wasn’t in it.
Worth and Greeley had definitely snubbed Allie. Had they heard what Allie had done and disapproved? Who the hell were they to disapprove? Zane was madder than hell at Allie siding with Doyle, but he was honest enough to admit he deserved whatever Allie threw at him.
If only she hadn’t included Hannah in her revengeful plans.
“Shut your eyes,” Cheyenne commanded.
Zane swung around to look at her. “What?”
“Close your eyes. You and Allie.”
He looked back at Allie. She gave him a fleeting, apologetic smile, then squeezed her eyelids tight.
Zane understood neither the smile nor the embarrassed flush on her cheeks. Whatever her family had planned, Allie had guessed and she was not happy about it. She clearly expected him to be less happy. Worth and Mary Lassiter wouldn’t be a party to Allie’s plans for revenge, therefore whatever was going on had nothing to do with Hannah.
“Zane! Close your eyes!”
Cooperating seemed the fastest way to get answers. Zane closed his eyes. “Do you carry a whip and a chair on your tours?” he asked Cheyenne.
Thomas laughed. “You don’t know the half of it. If
she wasn’t trying to drown me, she was trying to get me killed riding a bucking bronco. I married her in self-defense.”
Everyone laughed as Cheyenne gave an unladylike snort.
“Ready?” Worth bellowed from across the yard.
A clanking and a thud followed a loud metallic rumble, and something heavy rolled toward the house.
“Okay,” Worth called, “bring ’em down.”
Someone took Zane’s arm. “Keep your eyes closed,” Cheyenne said. “Steps.” She guided him across the yard. He heard Thomas guiding Allie.
“Wait for me,” Hannah called.
Zane halted.
Allie ran into his back. “Oops. Sorry. I forgot she had to put on her boots.”
A small hand slipped into his. “Okay,” Hannah said.
He felt the tug on his hand as she skipped beside him. No one was taking his daughter from him. He’d fight for her, no matter what it took. Hannah belonged with him.
“Open your eyes,” everyone chorused.
Zane blinked at the massive heap of rusty scraps of metal welded together. A huge white bow sat jauntily on top.
“For the bride and groom,” Greeley said diffidently.
“Oh, Greeley,” Allie said as she walked around the thing. “It’s wonderful.”
Zane took a second look at the twisted hunks of metal. He’d read an article in the paper about Greeley welding rusty scraps of metal together and calling it art. Allie’s younger sister had been taking apart machinery and welding it back together ever since he could remember. Apparently going from fixing tractors to making stuff had been a natural step for her.
He sensed everyone waiting for him to say something. He joined Allie in walking around the heap of scrap metal while he frantically searched for an innocuous comment he could safely make. As he stared at the mass, the metal pieces seemed to take on form, and he stepped back for greater perspective. Suddenly he saw it. “It’s a horse.”
Everyone gave him the kind of look people reserved for idiots. He looked harder. Not one horse. Three. Two large horses and one small one. The smaller of the two large horses hovered protectively over the littlest horse. What might have been. The thought ripped painfully through Zane’s mind. And caught in his throat. He plastered a big smile on his face and looked at Greeley. “I saw that article about you in the paper calling you a new talent on the art scene. This is nice.”