by C. B. Clark
She nodded, still not meeting his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She didn’t answer.
The silence deepened, growing and stretching until it was a living entity, rearing over them.
Finally, she looked up.
Their gazes met.
Her eyes were deep bruises in her pale face. “I guess I didn’t know what to say.”
“It doesn’t matter, you know. Your having a child doesn’t change anything between us.”
Her bitter smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“What is it?” He couldn’t figure it out. “What’s wrong? Surely you don’t think I care you have a daughter?”
She regarded him with those hollow, dead eyes. “You need to leave.”
“What?”
“I said, leave.” Her voice was dismissive, her eyes flat. She headed down the hall.
“Carrie Ann,” he called after her. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
She stopped and turned to face him. “I’m leaving for Seattle this afternoon like you wanted. Don’t try and contact me.”
“What?”
“I hope you find Skye’s murderer and clear your name, but this…us…it’s over. I don’t want to see you ever again.” She turned her back on him and continued walking down the hall until she disappeared into the room at the end.
He stood frozen, his mind blank.
“I’m glad she finally told you.” Vivian stood above him on the hall stairs.
“Told me what?” His brow furrowed.
“You met Bonnie?”
He nodded.
“What do you think?”
He shrugged. “She’s a cute kid.”
“And you’re okay with the situation?”
“What situation?” he snapped and rubbed his aching head. He couldn’t deal with Vivian now.
Childish giggles erupted from down the hall.
“Carrie Ann’s daughter, of course.” Her eyes narrowed. “She did tell you, didn’t she?”
“Look, Vivian. Now’s not a good time.” His headache worsened.
Her mouth compressed in a thin, tight line. “Come with me.” She took his arm, and hauled him behind her down the hall and into a spacious room where sunshine streamed through two large, French doors and danced across gleaming, hardwood floors. A fire crackled in a massive, brick and tile fireplace.
Carrie Ann and her daughter sat on a burgundy, leather couch. Bonnie was showing her mother something on a small, laptop computer. Carrie Ann laughed at something the child said, the sound brittle and forced.
The clink of ice cubes in a glass drew his attention, and he glanced across the room.
Leland sat on a matching, burgundy leather chair. The old man’s brow was furrowed, his body bristling. “What are you doing here, McAllister?”
Carrie Ann stiffened. “Declan.” She sounded desperate. “I told you to leave.”
“And I invited him to stay.” Vivian tightened her hold on his arm, and propelled him into the room. She walked him over to the chair beside the one Leland was in, and with surprising strength, shoved him into it.
He sat, too shocked at the events of the past half hour to protest.
Vivian took a seat on the couch beside Bonnie and Carrie Ann.
They sat like a frozen tableau.
Carrie Ann stared at him as if he were her worst nightmare.
Leland scrutinized him as if Declan were a bug he’d like to squash.
Even Bonnie watched him, her brown eyes wide in her freckled face.
Tension thickened the air.
Vivian broke the icy silence. “Carrie Ann, don’t you have something to say to Declan?”
Carrie Ann’s face grew even paler, her eyes deep hollows in her delicate face.
The hairs on the back of Declan’s neck prickled. He had a bad feeling about where this was going, a real bad feeling.
“Carrie Ann?” Vivian prompted.
Carrie Ann chewed on her bottom lip.
He’d had enough. Standing, he scowled at Leland, then Vivian, and finally, Carrie Ann. “Would someone tell me what’s going on?”
Carrie Ann whimpered and huddled into the couch cushions.
“Mom?” Bonnie’s voice was a thin wail.
Carrie Ann held her daughter close as if protecting her from something or someone.
Him?
Leland’s deep baritone cut through the silence. “You should leave, McAllister.” He looked pointedly at Bonnie. “Now’s not the time to get into this.”
“I don’t agree.” Vivian spoke before he could respond. “It’s time you told Declan the truth, Carrie Ann.”
The pounding in his head beat a fierce tattoo. “Tell me what?” His frustration made his voice sharp.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “Not now, not with Bonnie here.”
“She’s old enough to hear the truth.” Vivian rested her hand on Bonnie’s coltish leg. “Go ahead, Carrie Ann.”
“I don’t want her to find out like this.” Carrie Ann took Bonnie’s hand in hers. “You know I love you, honey, right?”
The girl nodded, her lower lip trembling, tears glistening in her dark eyes.
“You trust me.” Carrie Ann’s voice was thick with emotion. “Right?”
“Mom, are you okay?”
Carrie Ann ran a hand over the child’s golden curls. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. Go with Uncle Leland and eat your cookies. I’ll be with you soon.”
“I’m scared, Mom.” Bonnie hurled herself into Carrie Ann’s arms. “What’s going on?”
“It’s okay, kiddo. Everything’s fine.”
Leland put down his glass, stood, walked over to Bonnie, and held out his hand. “Come on, Bonnie, let’s go dig into those cookies. I hear they’re delicious.”
Bonnie sat up and wiped a hand over her tear-streaked face. “Are you sure, Mom?”
Carrie Ann nodded. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Go on.”
“Okay, but don’t be long, or we might eat all the cookies before you get there.” Bonnie leaped off the couch, took Leland’s hand, and skipped out of the room.
Silence echoed in the spacious living room. Vivian perched on the couch watching Carrie Ann like a bird of prey.
Wiping a hand across her eyes, Carrie Ann took a deep breath, brushed her hair off her forehead, and met his gaze.
He flinched at the raw pain in her eyes turning the amber a deep, burnished gold. “What is it? What do you have to tell me that’s so awful? What are you afraid of?”
“There’s something you need to know, something I should have told you years ago.”
Once again there was the prickling sensation on the back of his neck, but he kept his mouth shut and nodded.
Her gaze met his, and then skittered away. She inhaled a deep breath. “Bonnie is your daughter.”
The air rushed out of his chest in a whoosh. “What? Impossible.” His voice cracked.
“She’s yours.”
“Mine?” He couldn’t think. “But…” He rubbed his forehead. “How could she be? I mean, you weren’t pregnant. I would have known. You would have told me. Wouldn’t you?”
“I couldn’t.”
“You couldn’t tell me you were pregnant with my child?” A thought occurred to him and he glared at her. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth? You’ve lied to me all these years, how do I know what you’re telling me now is the truth?”
“It is.”
He searched her face.
For the first time since they’d arrived at the house, her gaze met his, open and honest.
He struggled to swallow over the thick lump in his throat. “How old is Bonnie?”
“Eleven.”
His chest tightened as he did a quick calculation. They’d last been together almost twelve years ago. Was it possible? He visualized the child’s blonde curls and dark eyes, eyes the same color and shape as his. He remembered the matching dimples
in her cheeks when she smiled, dimples like his. He sank back on the chair as the truth hit him. “Bonnie’s my daughter,” he croaked.
Carrie Ann nodded.
His mind whirled. He had a daughter. He had an eleven-year-old daughter. Even more incredible, he was a father. A father. Him. He ran his fingers through his hair, a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to. I was going to, but we had that big fight and broke up.” She shrugged as if those few words explained the situation.
“You still could have told me. I would have helped you. Surely you knew I would.”
She stared, her eyes wide, her face ashen. “I told you what happened. Remember? I went to your house, but your mother said you’d spent the night in your bedroom with Skye. I was too upset to tell you then.”
He frowned. They’d discussed all this the other day when they were sitting in their spot by the river. He’d told her he hadn’t slept with Skye, and how he’d beaten the crap out of Skye’s father for hurting her. He opened his mouth to reassure her once again, but then he remembered what this was all about, and his anger returned with a vengeance. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” Surely she knew he would have looked after her, helped raise the baby. He jumped to his feet. “Answer me, damn it! Why did you keep your pregnancy a secret from me?”
She shook her head and wiped at tears leaking from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks. “I couldn’t tell you.”
“You couldn’t?” he snarled. “You thought it better to keep your pregnancy a secret; to never tell me I had a daughter? You thought lying to me all these years was right?” He took a step toward her, his hands clenched at his sides. “You lied to me. Worse, you took something precious from me. Something I can never get back.” He fought to hold his fury at bay, but it was a losing battle. He wanted to hit something, anything.
Vivian’s voice cut through his outrage. “She didn’t tell you because I told her not to.”
He spun toward the old woman. “You? You told her to keep my baby from me?”
“Of course I did. You were accused of murder.” She lifted her chin. “I couldn’t let my niece give birth to a murderer’s child. What would people have thought?”
He turned back to Carrie Ann. Tears streamed down her face and dripped off her chin onto her blouse. For a heartbeat, he felt sorry for her, but he hardened his heart to her misery. “You took my daughter from me.” Each word was a sliver of ice.
“I’m sorry, so sorry.”
“It was for the best, given the circumstances, believe me,” Vivian said.
He glared at her. “Stay out of this, old woman.” He glanced back at Carrie Ann. “You agreed with her?”
“I was young, I—”
“Were you ever going to tell me? I mean, if I hadn’t seen Bonnie today, would you have told me?” He waited, but he knew the answer. Guilt was written all over her face. She’d planned to keep his daughter a secret forever. A red haze covered his eyes, dimming his vision. “I’ve had enough of this bullshit.” He turned and stormed out of the room.
She called after him, but he didn’t stop. He had to get away from her before he did something he’d regret. He heard footsteps running after him down the hall, but he didn’t slow. He flung open the door and burst outside, sucking in great gulps of cool, fresh air.
“Declan.”
He didn’t want to, knew it was a mistake, but he couldn’t stop himself; he turned and faced her.
She stood in the open doorway, tears staining her ravaged face. “Please, don’t do this. We need to talk.”
He hardened his heart against the raw pain in her voice. “We’ve already talked.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Get in touch with my lawyer.” He turned and stalked away, trying to block out the sound of her sobs.
Chapter 23
Carrie Ann cupped her hands under the tap and splashed cold water on her face. Grabbing a towel, she dried her skin and scanned the mirror above the bathroom sink. Her hair, a tangled mass, framed her pale face. Swollen, red eyes looked back at her.
Her secret was out. An image of Declan’s outraged face rose before her, and she closed her eyes trying to block the memory. He’d been shocked, disillusioned, hurt, and furious. Who could blame him? He’d been blindsided.
Bonnie and Leland were talking in the kitchen. He was doing his best to distract her, but she was a bright child. She knew something was going on. How do you tell an eleven-year-old her life was a lie?
Declan’s parting words terrified her. Was he really going to talk to a lawyer? And what then? Would he ask for full custody of his daughter? A judge would probably grant him custody after the way she’d lied to him all these years. A sob tore at her throat. Bonnie was her life. She couldn’t live without her.
“Are you going to hide in here all day?” Vivian’s gaunt face reflected in the mirror.
“Thanks to you, I have to break Bonnie’s heart.”
Vivian’s eyes blazed. “Someone had to make you tell Declan the truth. It was time.”
“Truth?” She snorted. “What do you know about truth?”
“I know what’s right. Bonnie deserves to know who her father is.”
“This is all your fault. How did you convince Janine to let you take Bonnie?”
Vivian shrugged. “Leland called in a favor and had a family court judge friend of his draw up some custody papers. They stated Bonnie was our ward, and we had the legal right to have her visit us.” Her mouth creased. “Janine’s a good friend. She didn’t want to release Bonnie to us. It took a fair bit of convincing before she finally agreed.”
Carrie Ann turned and faced her. “I can imagine the type of convincing you used.” Her stomach churned with years of built-up anger and guilt. “Who do you think you are? Who made you judge and jury? Who gave you control over other people’s lives?”
Vivian sagged, clutching the bathroom door handle as if she needed the support. “Everything I’ve done is because I love you, Carrie Ann.”
“What do you know of love? Your idea of love is to dominate people, to make them do what you want. And if they don’t, you shut them out.”
Vivian shrank under the bitter onslaught, shoulders drooping, her body caving in on itself.
Outrage spewed out of Carrie Ann. “You never loved me. Don’t you think I know how you felt?” She glared at Vivian. “Can you even imagine what it was like for me? I was five years old, for God’s sakes. My parents had been killed in a fire. I had no one.”
Tears streamed down Vivian’s shrunken face. “I took you in. I cared for you.”
“You call what you did, caring? I was devastated by the loss of my parents. I needed love and understanding. And what did you give me?” Carrie Ann couldn’t stop the venomous stream of accusations. “Rules. You gave me a list of rules.” Her eyes burned, and her throat clogged with tears, making it hard to speak. “All I wanted was to be loved. I needed to be loved I…” The words faded and she sank, spent, onto the toilet seat.
The only sound in the small bathroom was the steady drip of water in the sink.
Vivian removed a tissue from the pocket of her slacks and wiped her eyes. “I gave you the best clothes, the latest toys, healthy food, everything you could possibly want.”
“But not love.”
“Do you really believe I didn’t love you?”
Carrie Ann nodded.
“I loved you so much,” Vivian said. “I’d have done anything for you. I still would.”
“How come you never told me?”
Vivian heaved a sigh. “I tried to, but it was hard for me.”
“Why? Why was telling me you loved me so damn hard?”
Vivian shook her head.
“Don’t do this, Vivian. Not anymore. Tell me why you were so cold, why you never told me you loved me.”
The drip, drip, drip of the tap filled the room.
“Vivian?”
&
nbsp; Vivian drew herself up to her full height. She released her hold on the door handle. “I have always found expressing my emotions challenging.” She shrugged. “Maybe I was afraid of letting others get too close, afraid of being hurt. I don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” Carrie Ann spat. “I don’t believe you. I was a child, and you treated me like one of your employees.”
Vivian swallowed, her thin throat working as if something blocked it. “Have you examined your mother’s effects?”
Carrie Ann blinked at the sudden shift. The small box was in her old bedroom in the closet beside her suitcase. She wanted to wait until she was home in Seattle before going through her mother’s things. “I haven’t yet. Why?”
“Look at your mother’s things today. Right now.”
Carrie Ann stared at her.
Lines of strain marred Vivian’s pale face. Each breath was tortured, but her gaze was fervid. “Please.”
“First I need to talk to Bonnie.”
“Look in your mother’s box, and then talk to her.”
“But—”
“She’ll be fine. I’ll look after her. She’s waited eleven years to hear the truth, an hour or two more won’t make any difference.”
The sheen of tears in her aunt’s pale eyes made a lump rise in her own throat, and Carrie Ann nodded, unable to speak.
Vivian shuffled out of the bathroom.
“Vivian,” she called after her.
The old woman turned to face her, her brows arched in question.
“How did you really convince Janine to let you take Bonnie?”
“I told you, Leland arranged for court documents attesting to our custody rights as Bonnie’s guardians. But even then, I don’t think Janine would have let us take Bonnie if I hadn’t told her you’d asked me to pick up Bonnie and bring her to Cooper’s Ridge so you could introduce her to her father.”
“In other words, you lied.”
“Not really.” Their gazes met again. “You’d already decided to tell Bonnie about her father, hadn’t you? I mean, after spending last night with him.”
Carrie Ann stiffened. “How did you—”
“I may be old, Carrie Ann, but I’m not blind. I see how things are between you two.” The corners of her mouth twitched, and she left the room.