Her Secret, His Child

by Paula Detmer Riggs

  "The bath is through there," she said, glancing toward the door, which was open far enough to offer a glimpse of peach tile and chrome fixtures. "I'm sure Tilly's left plenty of towels. She's very efficient."

  "Must be nice having a housekeeper," he offered.

  "With a house this size, it's a necessity. Besides, Tilly has been with us since I was a child. She's more family than employee. I suspect we'd be lost without her, and she without us."

  "Anybody home?" Coach came through the door toting a well-traveled leather suitcase in one hand and an armload of notebooks in the other. He dropped both to the floor and handed over Mitch's keys.

  "All set?" he asked, glancing around curiously.

  "Looks like." Mitch tossed the keys on the nearest table.

  "See you tomorrow, then. Come to the stadium about nine and I'll show you around."

  "You're on."

  After saying good night to Carly, Gianfracco left the room and closed the door to the hall behind him. Carly glanced around, satisfied that she hadn't neglected anything. It was becoming difficult to concentrate. She was so tired that her head was buzzing.

  "If there's nothing more—"

  "But there is." He came toward her, the muted click of those cruel braces already familiar enough to seem a part of him. "Have we met? All evening, I've been working on this hunch we've met before."

  Carly felt a cold hand seize her heart. "Not to my knowledge," she bluffed with a skill that she'd worked long and hard to master.

  "You like football, so I figured maybe you'd come to one of the Raiders' games."

  "Actually, I've never been to a professional game at all."

  "UCLA, then?"

  "Sorry. I'm an Oregon native. The only other place I've lived is Providence, Rhode Island."

  "Never been there." He'd been a great scrambler because he'd read body language better than most quarterbacks, but hers wasn't easy to read, especially when he kept getting distracted by the nagging feeling he'd seen those eyes before.

  "Caroline Alderson. Pretty name. Not easy to forget," he said slowly, narrowing his gaze while he ran the face and name through his admittedly flawed memory. He came up blank, but the feeling of having known her before just dug in harder. Oh well, he thought. If it was important, it would come to him sooner or later.

  "Will I see you tomorrow, Caroline?"

  Mitch watched wariness take over her eyes and tried to put a name to the shade of her irises. Part green, part gray. If there was a name for that particular color, he didn't know what it was.

  "Of course. This is my house, remember?" Forcing a smile, she murmured a polite "Good night" and left the room.

  Chapter 3

  « ^ »

  It was close to eleven when Carly removed her earrings and tossed them into the velvet-lined jewelry box on her dresser in the walk-in closet adjoining her bedroom.

  "Of course I'm annoyed, Mother," she said, returning to the bedroom to face Felicity, who was seated sedately on Carly's bed. "You should have consulted me before you invited Coach's guest to stay here."

  Felicity didn't look the least bit chastened, but then, her mother had always possessed a supreme confidence in everything she did. It was one of the traits Carly had always admired in her. The other was her ability to ignore anything she didn't want to deal with.

  "But, darling, I did it for you. Peter explained how important it is that Mr. Scanlon be impressed by all that Bradenton has to offer. And you have to admit, this house is the nicest one in the area."

  "Since when have you taken orders from Pete Gianfracco instead of me?"

  Felicity's gaze sharpened. "I don't take orders from either of you, Caroline. I was simply trying to do my part in this plan you've concocted, even though I've told you repeatedly I don't think it will work."

  Carly sighed. "I'm sorry, Mother, I didn't mean to snap. I know you meant well."

  Felicity glanced down at her hands. "I don't know if I've ever told you how grateful your father was when you agreed to return to Bradenton. I think he knew he didn't have too many years left, and he so desperately wanted you to succeed him."

  Carly stared at her mother, astounded by her confession. "I feel as though I've let him down," Caroline said softly. "He was always so cautious about instituting changes. I'm beginning to think I was too impulsive."

  Felicity drew a breath. "Perhaps, though these troubled times seem somehow to beg for changes."

  Carly let her gaze trail around the room that had been hers from the age of two. Pale peach and gray now, it had once been bright yellow, with dotted Swiss curtains and an imported dollhouse in one corner. And then, in her high school years, she'd talked her mother into letting her paint the walls a psychedelic blue.

  Other, far more fundamental, changes had taken place in this room, as well. A rowdy tomboy had grown into a young woman so eager to please she'd suppressed her natural zest for living. And, most significant of all, that same insecure young woman had prepared to become a mother, knowing that the rest of her life would be centered around the child she'd first felt move inside her womb while lying in this same bed.

  The weight of those decisions had never felt heavier, she thought as she walked to the window and looked out. The security lights bathed the mansion grounds in blue-white light. The daffodils that had just popped their heads from the still-barren soil shone an eerie gray-green next to the brick walk.

  "I'll never forgive myself if Tracy isn't able to graduate from here because of my determination to remake Bradenton into my personal ideal," she said softly.

  "You did your best, which is all your father or I ever asked of you," her mother said, surprising Carly into glancing back at her.

  "You expected perfection," Carly murmured with a resigned smile. "And I did try."

  Sadness flitted over Felicity's face. "I know you did, dear. At the time we didn't realize just how excessive the demands we made on you were. Or how they might eventually push you into the very kind of behavior we were trying to prevent."

  "You were afraid I would tarnish the Alderson name, and I did exactly that. I'll always regret that."

  "Just as I'll always regret not supporting wholeheartedly the decisions you made then," Felicity said softly before drawing a long breath. "I offered you blame when you needed acceptance and understanding, and for that I am very sorry."

  Too astounded to speak, Carly simply stared at her mother's pale face. "Don't look at me like I've suddenly stripped naked and climbed on the table," Felicity chided in a half amused, half teary voice. "I have been known to apologize to you before, you know."

  Carly started to answer, then found that her voice still eluded her. After clearing her throat, she tried again. "Forgive me, Mother, but I can't seem to recall your ever having apologized to anyone for anything before."

  Felicity frowned, then rose and joined Carly at the window. "Then perhaps it's time I started," she said, touching her daughter's hand. "And while I'm trying new things, I might as well add that I'm very proud of you."

  Carly blinked, feeling totally at a loss. "Mother, have you… I mean, are you ill?"

  Felicity seemed taken aback for a long moment before she broke into soft laughter. "No, dear, though it must seem that way to you." Her laughter faded, replaced by an air of sadness. "I've been doing a great deal of thinking since your father passed away, and perhaps I've grown up a bit, as well."

  "I don't understand," Carly admitted.

  "It occurred to me that I've been very fortunate in my life. My parents raised me with every indulgence, and your father did his best to grant my every wish. He was always ready to protect me from disappointment or hurt. When you became pregnant, it was I he comforted, not you. And yet, when he needed help, it was you he turned to, just as I turned to you for comfort when he died." Tears sparkled in Felicity's gray eyes, and her subtly glossed lips trembled before she found the strength to firm them. "It was then that I realized you've had no one to support you all these years, no
one to comfort you in times of pain or disappointment."

  "Oh, Mother," Carly murmured, deeply touched, yet not quite able to fully trust her mother's abrupt change of heart.

  "I know how desperately hard you're working to keep Bradenton going, which was why I was so hoping that this little dinner party tonight might have been of some help to you." Felicity glanced at the vista beyond the window and sighed. "Try not to be too discouraged, darling, though I know it's difficult not to feel terribly disappointed that Mr. Scanlon isn't the right man."

  Carly allowed her confusion to show. "He isn't?"

  "Because of his unfortunate circumstances," Felicity amplified, then smiled. "I saw your face freeze when you shook his hand, and I realized then that you had come to the same conclusion as I. That a man as severely handicapped as he couldn't possibly manage the job."

  "No, I suppose not." Carly realized that it hadn't occurred to her that he couldn't handle the job, just that she didn't want him to have the opportunity.

  Felicity's expression turned pensive. "He really is an impressive-looking man in many ways, especially when he smiles. And an enormously proud man, I would guess, from the determined way he has of putting everyone at ease around him. Still and all, it must be very difficult for him to accept the kinds of restrictions and frustrations his handicap must impose on him."

  Felicity drew herself taller and, patting her hair in a way Carly recognized, offered Carly a serene smile. "But then, that is what we were talking about, wasn't it? Changes?"

  Carly laughed softly. "Yes, Mother, we were. And I appreciate your sharing your feelings with me. I love you, you know? Even if it is taboo for an Alderson to actually say those words."

  A slow flush rose to Felicity's cheeks, and the tears that she'd somehow kept from falling reappeared in her eyes. "I love you, too," she murmured. "I always have."

  Carly leaned forward to kiss her mother's cheek, and Felicity held her daughter close for a long moment before they separated. Looking somewhat embarrassed, yet relieved, Felicity cleared her throat, thai murmured, "It's been a long day. I'll say good-night now."

  "Good night, Mother," Carly said in a husky voice. "Sleep well."

  "You, too, dear. And try not to worry. Maybe Mr. Scanlon will surprise us both and turn out to be the perfect man for the job."

  Carly smiled, but remained silent as Felicity glided from the room. Then, letting out the air she'd been holding, she left her bedroom and headed down the hall. Tracy's door was ajar. Carly rapped once and entered on her daughter's muttered response.

  Tracy glanced up from the sentence she had just typed into her word processor. Model tall, with a willowy figure and an athletic grace, Tracy was blossoming into an exceptionally lovely young woman, with masses of thick honey-toned hair and a ready smile that lit her eyes from within. Even though it was barely fifty degrees outside, she was dressed in shorts and a Bradenton T-shirt.

  "Hi, Mom. You look tired."

  "It's been a long day," Carly murmured as they hugged. "Sorry I missed seeing you before dinner, but I tried. Blame the weather gods for keeping my plane on the ground in Chicago."

  Tracy giggled, then caught herself. At sixteen, she had become enormously conscious of her dignity. "Did you have a good time with all those other bigwigs?"

  "Yes, but I missed you."

  Carly passed a hand over the golden hair fluffing around Tracy's face. It seemed like yesterday when she'd held her daughter for the first time and saw Scanlon's imprint on the tiny face. For an instant she'd been overcome with fear that she would never be able to love his child, and then Tracy had screwed up her face and let out a hungry bellow.

  Carly had laughed and cried at the same time, and from that moment on, Tracy had been the fulcrum upon which her life had balanced. Not once since that moment had she ever regretted her decision to have her baby.

  "Looks like you're putting in a long day of your own," she commented with a nod toward the glowing computer screen.

  Tracy exhaled loudly. "I'll say, but it'll be worth it if I get the AI need for a 4.0."

  "Even if you don't, I want you to know I'm proud of you."

  Tracy looked pleased. "You're my mother. You have to say that."

  "No way, toots," Carly protested around the lump in her throat. "I'm as objective as they come. Ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you I never brag about you without an absolutely authentic reason."

  Tracy slanted her an impish grin, and Carly's heart did a slow tumble. Her little girl was still there, hiding behind a newborn maturity.

  "So how was the dinner party for the visiting VIP?"

  Carly felt her stomach tighten. The thought of Scanlon sleeping one floor below had all of her protective instincts humming, even though, years ago, she'd consulted an attorney about custody issues. According to the law, Scanlon had zero claim on his daughter. None.

  "It was like any other business dinner, boring."

  Tracy grimaced. "I figured it would be, which is why I begged off. Grandmother was not happy with me."

  "Grandmother means well, honey, honestly she does. But I agree that sometimes she seems a bit out of touch with modern times."

  Tracy snorted. "I'll say. Last week she about took my head off because I asked her if she and Grandfather used condoms when they had sex."

  Carly nearly choked. "Oh, my," she muttered. "I can just imagine Grandmother's reaction to that little gem."

  "She freaked but good. Turned about six shades of red, and then proceeded to lecture me about what were proper topics of discussion for young ladies and what were not."

  "Aha. That would be Lecture Number One, usually followed a day or two later by Lecture Number Two."

  Curiosity deepened the amber cast of Tracy's eyes. "Which is?"

  "Which is the proper behavior for young ladies in a social setting."

  "Oh, I got that one years ago when Grandmother found me wrestling with Randy Small in the backyard one summer when I was visiting."

  "Yes, I heard about that. Grandmother was afraid you were going to grow up wild, like your mother."

  "You? Wild? Come on! You're about the most conservative person I know."

  Carly angled one hip on the desk and folded her arms. "You might as well know, Trace. I was a big disappointment to your grandmother—mostly, I think, because she had to cancel my coming out party."

  "Because you were pregnant with me?"

  Carly laughed softly. "Can't you just see it, me in my very expensive white dress with a belly out to here, marching into the Debutantes' Ball on my father's arm?" She shook her head. "Poor Mother. And after she'd invited the governor, too."

  Tracy's eyes were suddenly pensive. "Mom, if you had it do over, would you keep me?"

  Carly had already anticipated the question. According to the books she'd read on adopted and out-of-wedlock children, it was a common one for them to ask. Also according to the experts, the best way to handle it was calmly and with total honesty.

  "Of course! You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I'm a much better person because of you."

  Relief flickered in her daughter's eyes for a moment, only to be replaced once more by questions. "Grandmother is worried that you'll be lonely when I move out."

  Carly drew a careful breath. She'd done her share of grieving at the thought of Tracy all grown up and on her own. Chances were good she would have to leave Bradenton Falls in order to build her own career, whatever that might be.

  "I'll miss you, sure, but it's time you tried your wings. And it's not as though I'll never see you."

  Tracy's smile was shaky. "Just don't rent out my room, okay?"

  Carly heard a note of anxiety in Tracy's voice and made herself smile. "Are you sure Bradenton is what you want?" she asked, flavoring her tone with a heartfelt urgency. "It's not too late to apply someplace else, you know, especially with your grade point average."

  Tracy made a face, the same face Carly used to make at her mother in her teenage years.
"Are you kidding? I love this place almost as much as you do." Her eyes suddenly glinted with mischief. "Besides, I already know a lot of guys on this campus, and there's this one, Ian Cummings III, who is the sexiest, most gorgeous male on the planet."

  Carly hid the sudden sharp jab to the heart behind a mother's look of warning. "Don't even think about accepting a date with him or any of those other 'guys' until you officially start classes in September."

  Tracy drew her eyebrows together and pouted, but they both knew it was just for show. Other than the normal mother-daughter scuffling, they were extremely close, closer than Carly and her own mother had ever been.

  "Okay, but I can still look, right?"

  Carly laughed. "You can still look." Carly bent to hug the almost grown-up young lady who would always be her baby. "And now, kiddo, I think you should call it a night. You need your sleep."

  "As soon as I finish this biology report." Tracy hesitated, then added, "It's on genetics. We're supposed to trace our eye color and hair color and special traits that run in our families, like diabetes or left-handedness. Things like that. Grandmother helped me with your side of the family, but I don't know what to put down for my father. Grandmother said to ask you, but it's no big deal if you don't want to tell me about him. I mean, I can just explain to Mrs. Zacharias about … well, you know, him not being a part of my life." Tracy shrugged one shoulder, giving her an uncharacteristically uncertain look that nearly broke Carly's heart. "Some of the other kids are adopted, so they got excused."

  As a child, Tracy had asked a lot of questions about her father, questions Carly had answered with generalities. Now she realized that she herself knew very little about the details of Scanlon's family.

  According to the last story she'd seen written about him, he'd never married. It was possible he'd fathered another child, perhaps more than one, but there had been no public mention of a paternity suit. And now, disabled as he was, he might not even be able to sire a child.