“Right,” she said awkwardly, before nodding to herself. “I’ll be out for the morning. Do you have everything you need?”
Sam’s gaze remained fixed on her lips for several full seconds before he raised it to meet her eyes. “For now,” he said. “Thanks.”
He rose from his seat and took his plates to the sink.
“Oh, don’t. Seriously, you don’t need to do that,” Erin protested.
“I’m quite capable of rinsing a couple of dishes.”
“Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind,” she said, catching her lower lip between her teeth.
“Hey, if I minded I wouldn’t be doing it, okay?”
She gave that little nod again. “I’m heading into town with Riley but I’ll be back by lunchtime.”
“Whatever. I can see to myself if you’re not back on time.”
“But—”
She looked as if she was about to protest again but Sam raised a hand. “One of your promises on your website is that you create a home away from home here at Connell Lodge. At home, I pretty much look after myself so I’m comfortable doing the same here, within limits,” he finished with a smile.
“All right, I believe you.” She smiled in return, but he noticed it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Erin started to leave the room but he called her name, stopping her in her tracks. When she turned to face him he raised a hand to her face, touching her cheek ever so softly with the knuckle of his index finger.
“Take care on the road, okay?”
“I will,” she murmured. “I definitely will.”
* * *
It had been a week since their kiss. A week loaded with confusing yet exhilarating thoughts and feelings. Seven days punctuated with accidental touches and, Erin suspected, some not-so-accidental touches that had left her nerves strung deliciously taut in a way she’d never experienced before.
They hadn’t kissed again, and Erin found herself reliving that encounter at odd moments of the day. Reliving it and wanting to repeat it.
Even the other night, when they’d both been on the floor in the library with Riley lying between them. The lights had been low and the fire blazing from behind a protective screen—creating an ambiance that had locked the three of them together in a contented cocoon. They’d been laughing indulgently together when they’d realized Riley had drifted off to sleep, and their eyes had met. Anticipation had thrilled through her as their gazes locked, as Sam had leaned forward just that much that she’d instinctively copied his motion until their bodies had formed an arch over the slumbering child between them. She’d parted her lips ever so slightly, watched as his eyes had dropped to her mouth. Her heartbeat had kicked up a notch. But then Sam had pulled away and made some excuse about attending to work.
His rather rapid departure had done nothing to cool her blood or what she openly acknowledged now as a fast-growing desire for him. A desire that ensured Sam Thornton occupied the better part of her waking thoughts—and her sleeping ones, if truth be told. She felt as giddy as a teenager embarking on a first love.
And was it her first love? She’d spent a lot of time soul-searching in the quieter moments of the past few days, asking herself over and over again if that was true. The painful facts had been a sobering realization. One that made her not like herself terribly much.
She knew she hadn’t loved James the way she ought to have. In retrospect, she could see how he’d appealed to her. He was older, very stable, very sure of himself in his world. His interest in her had grown during the time she’d worked here, after she’d escaped from the mess she’d made of her life in Sacramento. By the time he’d asked her to marry him she’d convinced herself she must love him. In reality, she’d loved what he represented more. She’d clung to his interest in her—to his offer of marriage and a respectable, stable, secure life—with both hands and held on fast.
So fast, she’d eventually strangled the life out of any chance of a true marriage together. Fixated on creating the perfect home, the perfect marriage, the perfect family, Erin had eventually driven away the man who could have made that all possible. Driven him straight into the arms of a woman who had offered him the kind of uncomplicated and loving relationship he’d had every right to expect from his wife.
Erin had one chance now, to make good to James the promise she’d made as he’d struggled for his final breaths—that she’d bring Riley up here at Connell Lodge. That she’d infuse in him the love for the place his father had always had and his forefathers before him.
The special delivery envelope that had arrived this morning burned in the back pocket of her jeans where she’d shoved it, unwilling to open the missive until she knew she’d be on her own with no chance of being interrupted. Sam was locked upstairs in his office, Riley was down for a nap.
Erin poured herself a mug of coffee from the carafe she constantly refreshed during the day and took the letter outside to the lawn furniture. It wouldn’t be long now before she’d have to put everything in storage for the coming cooler months. She also made a mental note to look into dry-stack storage for the launch. Another expense she wasn’t looking forward to.
She tugged the envelope that’d been sent from the laboratory from her pocket, and set it on the table in front of her before sitting down in a chair. A light breeze tickled the back of her neck.
Taking a deep breath, Erin smoothed out the envelope and slid the tip of her finger under the seal. She pulled out the lab report, reading each word carefully, barely understanding the scientific jargon. But one thing she did understand, and her hand was shaking as she neatly refolded the results and slid them back into the envelope.
James Connell was not Riley’s father.
Seven
Erin rose on unsteady legs to go back inside. She grabbed the cordless phone from its stand in the kitchen, shut herself in her bedroom and dialed Morin and Morin’s number.
“Erin, I’m glad you called. I was going to call you today. How are you?” Janet’s warm and friendly voice filled her ear.
“Not so good,” Erin admitted.
“You have your results?” Janet’s voice was all business.
“I do, and…” She choked back a sob. “And they’re not good. James wasn’t Riley’s father.”
“I see,” Janet said after a short silence. “Well, that brings me to what I needed to talk to you about. I’ve received a court order requesting that you and Riley provide DNA samples per Party A’s request to establish paternity.”
“I can’t fight it now, can I?” Erin’s voice shook.
“Not with the court order. Plus the swabs will need to be done under supervision with legal representatives there from both sides. I can suggest they be done here at my office if that would make you more comfortable.”
Nothing right now would make her comfortable. Erin shook her head in mute denial, even though she knew she’d have to comply. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “When?”
“In the next few days would be best. How about I work things out with the other lawyers and get back to you, hmm? Any time in particular that’s not suitable?”
“The rest of forever?” Erin suggested brokenly.
Janet didn’t laugh. “I’m sorry, Erin. But we have to do it. If this guy is Riley’s dad he has rights—you can’t deny him those. Nor can you deny Riley’s rights to know his real father.”
“I know,” Erin said softly on a sigh.
She ended the call asking
Janet to let her know when the meeting was arranged then sat, numb, on the bed. How could James not be Riley’s father? It was the final, cruelest blow in a series of them. How could such a mistake have been made? She wrapped her arms around her stomach and rocked gently on the bed, fighting back the urge to let go of her fear and scream out loud.
She had to somehow keep this all in, keep it to herself, at least until the results of the next test came through. She started to grab at straws as her mind scattered on a myriad of possibilities. Maybe this Party A wasn’t Riley’s father either. Maybe some other man was, some stranger who had no wish to establish paternity and turn their lives completely upside down. Not to mention turn them both out of their home. If the clinic had made a mistake between two families, surely the mistake could easily extend beyond that?
Hard on that thought came another. What if James’s sperm had been used to fertilize another couple’s egg? What if he had a direct descendant somewhere out there? Someone who had a legitimate claim on Connell Lodge? A legitimate claim on her and her baby’s home that she no longer had?
The snowball of terror just kept growing bigger and bigger in Erin’s mind. She pushed herself up off the bed and forced herself into activity. She had to keep busy, so busy she wouldn’t have time to think or time to ponder the reality she now faced. She could only hope that the next round of tests would prove Party A was not Riley’s birth father. That way, she could continue the charade that James was Riley’s dad and she and Riley could stay in the only true home she’d ever known. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if the trustees who oversaw the Connell affairs discovered the truth.
She’d been homeless before and she’d sworn she’d never slide that low ever, ever again. Now, because of Riley, it was even more important that she hold on to the roof over her head. He didn’t deserve to lose what should have been his birthright just because of some stupid mistake.
Anger slowly began to replace the fear that had threatened to consume her. Anger and determination. She would protect what they had, for Riley’s sake. No matter what came her way.
* * *
Erin was still antsy later that night and Riley had picked up on her mood, testing her patience to its outer limits. It was all she could do not to cry in sympathy when she put him, protesting loudly, down for the night. She resolutely clipped the baby monitor to her belt and gathered her cleaning supplies. He’d settle, he had to. And then she could lose herself in the rhythms of keeping Connell Lodge fit for habitation. Okay, so maybe that was a slight exaggeration. She kept the old house in excellent order, but she did miss the additional help that a full complement of staff had brought.
Before James’s illness, they’d had two live-in staff as well as a roster of part-timers who came to assist with the outdoor work and the cleaning inside. Now, she just had to grab time wherever and whenever she could. It wasn’t ideal, Erin thought as she went into the library and flicked her duster along the shelves, but it would have to do. At least until she could get some cash flow going again and hire a part-timer to help around the place.
She found a peaceful rhythm in the housework, in the scent of the polish she used on the wooden furniture and the leather treatment she used on the chairs. It got her thinking about the past.
When she’d found work here at the lodge she thought she’d landed in heaven. It was a long way from the rundown trailer park where she’d grown up on the outskirts of Sacramento, and even further from the abandoned building where she’d lived with a group of itinerants after years of running away from her mother’s abuse.
That had ended badly. Very badly. The taste of bile rose in Erin’s throat and her hand settled on the monitor at her hip, turning up the volume. Riley had settled, but just thinking about the past, about what had happened, sent her flying back down the hall to their rooms to check on him. She pushed open his bedroom door and peeked into his crib. He lay there like an angel—his beautiful lashes spread in tiny twin fans on cheeks still flushed from his earlier crying.
Erin reached down to straighten his covers—resting her hand on his little tummy, feeling the rapid draw in and out of his breaths. He was okay. She breathed deeply, settling the old jangle of nerves that had spooked her as she’d thought of the past. Of someone else’s baby who hadn’t been as loved as her little boy. A baby they’d all failed. Yes, Riley was okay. She was doing everything right. This time around.
A sound in the kitchen filtered down the hallway. She gave Riley a gentle loving pat and left his room, pulling his door closed behind her. She was surprised to see Sam in the kitchen. He’d had dinner on a tray in his study tonight, saying he was finally on a roll with his book and didn’t want to take a break. She fought back a smile as she took in his unusually disheveled appearance.
“Tough day?” she asked, entering the room.
“You have no idea. You’d think I knew better. That I’d have backed up.”
“You didn’t?”
He shoved a hand through his short-cropped hair, making it stand in all directions. “I’m an idiot. I saved over my file. All that work today, gone.”
“Hey, we all make mistakes. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Besides, aren’t you the software guru? You must be able to retrieve something, surely?”
He barked an ironic laugh. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But no such luck.”
“Maybe you just need a break. You’ve been working hard all day. Why not come into my sitting room, have a coffee or something and we can just talk.”
In the back of her mind, Erin thought about all the things she still had to do this evening, but right now it seemed more important to give Sam the comfort he so obviously needed. Besides, she could do with some company herself after revisiting—however briefly—the memories of her past.
“Sure, I’d like that,” Sam said.
“Coffee then?” Erin asked, moving toward the machine.
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind a glass of something stronger.”
“No problem. Wine or spirits?”
“I’d kill for a whiskey about now.” Sam smiled.
Erin laughed. “You go and take a seat.” She gestured to the doorway to her sitting room. “I’ll pour your drink.”
She reached up to the top shelf of the glass-fronted hutch for a cut-crystal tumbler, then took a bottle of aged single malt from the cupboard beneath and poured a generous measure. She started to walk toward the sitting room but hesitated for a moment by the wine fridge. She hadn’t had an alcoholic drink since the IVF procedures had begun—even before then she’d almost completely stopped drinking alcohol. It had gotten her into enough trouble in the past, but tonight was different.
Making a decision, she put Sam’s drink down and quickly poured herself a small glass of a chilled Napa Valley Pinot Gris. She’d nursed Riley before bed and she was certain he would sleep through until early morning. She’d been assured by her doctor that one glass of wine now and then would be okay, provided she didn’t drink within four hours or so of nursing.
Erin took the two drinks through to her sitting room and found Sam studying a montage of baby photos on the wall that she’d accumulated of Riley—starting with his first ultrasound.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” she said, handing him his drink.
“Life never fails to amaze me.” He took the glass and raised it to her in a small toast. “To a job well done.”
“So far,” she concurred, taking a small sip of her wine.
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing a great job with Riley. It can’t be easy on your own.”
“No, it’s not. But it is worth every second.”
“Hear, hear,” he said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Ah, that’s good.”
Erin gestured for him to sit down and took a seat on the couch opposite.
“Have you ever thought of marrying ag—” Sam shut himself off and took a deep breath before continuing. “Look, I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. I hate it when people say the same to me about my future. I have no plans to ever marry again so I don’t know why I thought it was all right for me to suggest you should.”
“No need to apologize, Sam. It’s okay. Besides, I have no plans to marry again until Riley is at least old enough to take over the lodge. It’s his legacy. Handed down generation to generation of Connells. And it’s my job to make sure he has something worth inheriting.”
Somehow she had to continue to believe she could carry it off.
“That’s quite a commitment. Putting your whole life on hold for your son? What if he doesn’t want to work the lodge?”
Erin shrugged. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. In the meantime, it’s our home and our income. I’m duty bound to protect that.”
“Is it what you want to do?”
“It’s what I have to do. Management of the property has been handed over from father to son since the original James Connell. Riley’s father was the last and Riley will be next. It’s his legacy.”
She said the last words emphatically, as if by saying them aloud it could make them true.
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