by Laurie Paige
In the car, driving toward the Kincaid ranch, she felt no freedom, only a sense of loss so profound, it reached all the way to her soul. It was hard to leave a child’s love and faith behind, but she had to.
When she stopped at the horse rail on the Kincaid spread, she wondered if Collin was there. She didn’t think she could bear it if he wasn’t. She needed him desperately.
She turned off the engine and climbed out. A tall male walked out of the house. He had dark hair, but the sun was so bright in her face while his was in shadow that she couldn’t tell who it was.
“Collin?”
“I’m coming,” he said.
Tears blinded her. She opened her arms. In three seconds she was safe in his. “I’ve come…I’ve come…” That was all she could get out.
“Shh,” he murmured. “It’s enough that you’re here. We can talk later.” He held her tenderly. “My heart,” he whispered into her hair. “My soul.”
Thirteen
“Time to rise and shine,” a soft baritone whispered. “I know you’re awake.”
Hope opened her eyes as Collin slid his hands under her and lifted her into his arms. “Mmm,” she said, not wanting to stir. Last night she’d been exhausted when they went to bed, considering her sleepless previous night and the morning’s confrontation with her father.
Collin had taken her to his room, although he’d offered her one of her own. “I want to be with you,” she’d told him.
In his bed, he had simply held her. She’d gone to sleep, her arms around him, his warmth, his sweet tenderness easing the tears that filled her heart.
Yesterday they had strolled hand in hand around the ranch, sometimes talking but mostly just being together. The Kincaid brothers and their wives had left them alone. She’d been grateful.
Collin had been sympathetic to her loss of faith in her father. It was only after she had talked out her grief to him that she realized he’d gone through the same loss with his father, but at a much earlier age. Her heart had ached anew, this time for the boy.
“I had my grandfather,” he’d told her. “He was my salvation, the North Star that guided me.”
Once her father had been that for her. She pressed her face against his throat as the tears, which refused to fall, burned against her eyes.
“It’ll work out,” he promised again, the light of the new day effecting a halo around his head. “Do you think you can eat some breakfast? I’ve got it ready.”
“Yes. Let me up so I can shower and dress.”
He chuckled and hugged her close for a second. “I like you best this way.”
“Men,” she retorted, forcing the cheer.
She pulled his T-shirt over her head and rushed to the shower. In less than fifteen minutes she was ready, dressed in the slacks and white blouse she’d worn the previous day.
Collin had waited. Together they walked to the dining room. His grandfather was there.
“Good morning,” he said, kindness in his eyes. “I found breakfast ready and helped myself. I hope that was okay.”
Collin greeted the older man. “I made enough for everyone.”
Hope ate the scrambled eggs, bacon and English muffins Collin had prepared. As the two men talked ranching business, she was glad just to listen and not be expected to take part.
Studying Collin and Garrett, she realized they had the same muscular build, the same smile with the crinkles at the corners of their eyes and the same way of slightly tilting their heads as they considered a question.
When he was Garrett’s age, Collin would look very much like his relative. He would probably have his grandfather’s temper, but he would also have his gentleness and his concern for his children’s and grandchildren’s welfare.
Through the darkness of worry and sadness inside her came a single guiding ray of light. This man was her future. Her love. And she was his. She had been right to come to him.
Unable to contain herself, Hope touched his arm, once, quickly, but with feeling.
Collin paused in what he was saying and looked at the woman who had come to him so unexpectedly. Manna from heaven, he’d thought, observing her exhausted sleep before waking her this morning. He’d hated to disturb her, feeling that sleep might help heal her spirit, but he’d wanted this time alone with her and his grandfather.
His heart lurched at what he saw in her eyes. “Shall we tell Granddad we’re going to be married as soon as possible?” he asked softly.
She nodded. No protest. No postponement. No hesitation. Just a simple nod of agreement. Relief poured through him like sunshine on water, sending long warming rays down to the rock bottom of his soul. He realized that some part of him had thought they would never be together, that Jordan in his hatred of his family would somehow keep Hope from him.
When he glanced at his grandfather, his heart lurched again. The old man had tears in his eyes. Collin felt choked up himself.
“Congratulations, son,” Garrett said in a husky tone. “You’ve got yourself a keeper in this little lawyer gal.”
“I agree.” He lifted Hope’s hand and planted a kiss on the back. “We’ll have to shop for a ring today.” He paused. “Your father will hear of it.”
“We should call Lily Mae and let her get the word out before we go to town,” Hope suggested wryly. “That way, maybe no one will faint at the sight of a Baxter and a Kincaid together.”
He loved her for many reasons, but right now he loved her most for her spunk. She had courage, this woman. He tempered his happiness at having her to himself, respectful of the grief she tried so hard to conceal.
“You’ll never be sorry that you came to me,” he murmured. “We’ll have a good life.”
“I know.”
She smiled at him, her gaze sweet and lambent and adoring. His heart grew too large for his chest.
“Good morning,” Gina said, coming in and heading straight for the coffeepot. “Mmm, this is good and just what I need. I’ve been up since five.”
“Why so early?” Garrett asked.
She grinned, kissed him on the cheek and took her place at the table. “I’ve found your other grandson.”
There was an electrified silence.
“Who? Where? Are you sure?” Garrett asked in rapid succession, excitement adding color to his lean cheeks.
“Yes. I narrowed it down to two births on the same day. One was a girl. The other was a boy. From your son’s notes, the baby he believed was his was a boy.”
Garrett nodded. “According to his datebook/journal, Larry found out a former flame had given birth to a baby boy and he suspected the child was his because of the timing. Who is it? Do you have a name?” Garrett demanded, displaying the family trait of controlled impatience.
Gina glanced at Hope, then back at Garrett. “Meg Reilly. Her son Gabe is Larry Kincaid’s last child.”
“No,” Hope said, shocked. “It can’t be Meg. She…”
Hope let the rest of the thought fade. It could be Meg. She’d admitted she’d wanted only a baby from the man, nothing else. Larry Kincaid had apparently taken his pleasure wherever it was offered with no thought of tomorrow or the possible consequences, let alone that he might have been used.
“Seven sons,” Garrett said. “Eight,” he corrected, looking apologetically at Collin, who was the only legitimate one.
Collin shrugged. “Mom divorced him because of his womanizing. It was no secret to me. Although seven brothers was a bit of a surprise.”
“What are you going to do about Meg and Gabe?” Hope asked, concern for her friend overcoming her own problems as she waited for Garrett to answer.
“I want the boy to have his rightful inheritance,” Garrett told them, “the same as his brothers. And I want to have a place in all my grandsons’s lives.” His expression softened. “I would never try to take the child from his mother. That would be wrong.”
Hope laid her fork down. “Would you mind if I go to her and ask if it’s true?” She glanced apologeti
cally at Gina. “Only Meg can really tell us. Unless you plan to demand DNA testing?”
“I’d rather not go that far,” Garrett said.
Hope was relieved.
Gina was thoughtful. “I’ve met Meg. She’s an honest person. She’ll tell the truth when asked.”
“We’ll go to town as soon as we finish,” Collin promised. He gave her a worried glance. “I wonder how your father is going to take this news.”
Hope gasped. “Gabe! He’s—he’s a Kincaid!”
“Right.”
“My father will have a stroke,” she declared grimly, her concern for Meg increasing.
Garrett broke the stark silence with a chuckle. “It’s the final irony—or outrage, however one might want to view it.”
Gina hid a smile behind her hand, then joined in the laughter. Hope couldn’t help it; she laughed, too, a bit hysterically, but it was funny. Larry Kincaid had gotten the last laugh on all of them.
Collin added his deep chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” Trent asked, entering the dining room with his son in his arms.
The other four laughed all that much harder.
“Oh, no,” Hope said when Collin parked in Meg’s driveway. Her earlier laughter at the situation was gone. Worry had taken its place. “That’s my father’s car.”
“Do you want to come back another time?”
She quelled the tremor that pulsed through her. “No. The news is going to come out. He may as well hear it before anyone else.”
“Maybe you’d better let Meg tell him.”
“I will. I’ll talk to her privately. Do you think—”
“Your father and I can stay in the same room without coming to blows?” he finished for her. “I’ll make a point of being on my best behavior. After all, I got you out of the deal.” He kissed her gently.
Feeling buoyed by his support, Hope led the way to the cottage door. She rang the bell. It opened almost at once.
“Why, hello,” Meg said, surprise darting across her face as she stared at her two visitors.
“May we come in?” Hope asked.
“Your father is here,” Meg warned.
“I know, but I have to talk to you.”
Meg’s green eyes darkened. Hope thought she saw fear flicker in them for a second, then Meg nodded.
“I think I know what this is about. Jordan may as well hear it, too.”
Hope touched her friend’s arm briefly in sympathy. “Are you sure?”
Meg’s smile was resigned to the fate she knew was coming. Hope realized her friend had been expecting this.
“Hope and Collin are here,” Meg said.
Jordan was seated at the pine table. Gabe was in his high chair, stuffing cereal into his mouth. “Hop,” he crowed in delight upon seeing her.
Hope gave him a kiss and a tickle, then directed the child back to his breakfast. She finally looked at her father. “Hello,” she said.
His face reddened with anger, but he nodded.
“This is about Gabe,” Hope told Meg, wanting to make sure the other woman understood her secret was out.
“I was sure it was. Sit down, you two,” Meg invited. She poured them each a cup of coffee. “This may be a long discussion.” She turned to Jordan. “You are to listen. I don’t want any first-reaction comments.”
Puzzled, he hesitated, then nodded.
“Promise,” Meg insisted.
“All right. I promise,” Jordan added when she continued to look sternly at him.
She took a breath. “Larry Kincaid fathered Gabe.” She looked across the table and smiled slightly at Hope. “That was your news, wasn’t it?”
In the silence that followed, Hope felt Collin take her hand and squeeze it. “Yes. Gina discovered the birth records and told us this morning.”
Meg sighed. “I knew it was a matter of time. I’ve been worrying about it, wondering what I should do…what would be best for Gabe. I don’t want him hurt or confused by a custody battle. If it comes to that. I won’t give my son up. You can tell your grandfather—”
“I have enough money,” Jordan said, giving Collin a challenging glare. “We can fight him on equal terms.”
“There won’t be a custody battle,” Collin said, speaking to Meg and ignoring Jordan. “My grandfather would never try to take your child from you. He would like a place in Gabe’s life, though. Also, Gabe will be included in the inheritance my grandfather is providing for his other grandsons. Whatever it turns out to be,” he added with a challenging glare of his own directed at Jordan.
“That’s generous,” Meg said slowly. “I’ll have to talk to him and find out his expectations. I knew in my heart, if I stayed here in Whitehorn, I would have to face this. It’s probably best it came out now.”
Jordan snorted. “Don’t be taken in by the Kincaid charm,” he warned. “They smile out of one side of their mouths and lie out of the others. They’ll turn your own son against you if you don’t watch out.”
Meg rounded on him. “That’s enough,” she said firmly.
Gabe quit eating and glanced at the adults in his young life. Hope smiled reassuringly and patted his shoulder. He gave her a milky grin. It disappeared when he looked at his mother then Jordan.
“The Kincaids—Garrett and Collin—have been fair with you,” Meg said to her lover, her gaze locked on his. “You have to let go of this obsession you have for revenge.”
Jordan’s face might have been comical with shock had the situation not been so serious. Hope couldn’t bear to look at her father, to witness his humiliation as Meg turned on him.
“So you’re going over to their side, too?” he said on a quieter note.
“The way your daughter did?” Meg shot back at him. “You’ve lost her. Are you going to lose me and Gabe, too? The Kincaids don’t have to destroy you. You’re doing a damn good job on your own.”
Jordan’s eyes went as cold and flat as steel rivets. Hope had seen the expression many times. Collin squeezed her hand again, warning her to not interfere.
Meg pushed a hand into her hair. Her fingers were trembling. “When you came to me last night and said Hope had gone to Collin, I prayed that you would stop this senseless revenge. I thought her leaving would make you see reason. This morning, when you said you were disowning your own flesh and blood, I realized it was hopeless.”
“Please don’t worry about me,” Hope told her friend. “If your happiness lies with my father, don’t throw it away.”
“I had already decided to tell him not to come back,” Meg said sadly. She turned to Jordan. “I can’t take a chance on your hurting Gabe because he was sired by a Kincaid.”
“Hope is an adult. She chose to go to our enemy. Gabe is a baby. His parentage is hardly his fault,” Jordan said stiffly.
“But it’s mine. I didn’t know Larry’s real name at the time, but it wouldn’t have mattered if I had. I discovered who he was when he was killed and his picture appeared on television and in all the papers.”
“He deceived you and yet you defend the Kincaids?” Jordan asked incredulously.
She shrugged. “It was mutual opportunism. He wanted a night’s fling without complications. I wanted a child. Simple. Only life never is, is it?”
She touched Jordan’s cheek in a tender caress that smote Hope’s heart at the hopelessness in it.
“If we married,” Meg said, “then someday, when we’re having a quarrel as all couples do at some point, you’ll bring Larry Kincaid up. You’ll say cruel things about me and my son’s father and about Gabe’s conception. Words like that can never be erased once they’re spoken. I won’t allow Gabe to be hurt by your obsession for revenge the way you’ve hurt your daughter.”
“So you’re cutting me out of your life, just like that.” Jordan snapped his fingers.
“No, with a lot of heartache and anguish,” she corrected softly. “I love you. In many ways, you’re a wonderful person…” She sighed and shook her head. “But you won’t be a
whole person until you give up your hatred. It’s hard to give up a boyhood dream, Jordan, but you’re a man. Let it go,” she pleaded softly.
Hope watched her father and her best friend as they sat immobile, staring at each other. Please, she prayed, please let it be all right. Make him see, please make him see.
But it wasn’t to be.
Jordan stood. “You’ve made your choice,” he told Meg. Without another glance at any of them, he walked out.
The silence stretched for several seconds. “Well,” Meg said shakily. “Well.”
Tears filled her eyes. Seeing them, Gabe clouded up and let out a wail, not understanding what was wrong but knowing his world was terribly off balance at the moment.
Hope took the toddler into her arms. “I’m so sorry, Meg,” she said. “I’m so very sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault. I knew the situation. I took the risk. Win some, lose some,” she said. “When should I call your grandfather?” she asked Collin.
“He’s at the ranch. He’ll be delighted to hear from you at any time.”
She made the call and was smiling when she hung up. “Your grandfather is a gentle man,” she said. “I’m glad Gabe is going to have him.”
“There’s none better,” Collin assured her. He looked at Hope. “Do you want to pick up some clothes at your place?”
She nodded. “All of them. I want to sell the condo. It was never a home.”
“Don’t grieve too much,” Meg whispered when they hugged each other upon saying farewell. “He made his choice. Let him live with it.”
“I know. I will,” she promised. “There’s nothing else to do. But he’s going to be terribly lonely.”
“Yes,” Meg agreed. “Maybe some good will come of it.”
They tried to smile and ended comforting each other while they dried their tears. If nothing else, Hope knew she and Meg had come through this the best of friends.
In the pickup driving back to the ranch, Collin gave her a sympathetic perusal. “Grandchildren often bridge the distance between the parents and grandparents,” he told her.