Lies of the Heart (Heart Romance #3)

by Laurie LeClair

  “I have to do this.” The firmness of her own voice propelled her onward. With a shaky hand and her breaths coming out fast and shallow, she shoved open the door the rest of the way. It banged against the wall, making her cringe.

  In the back of her mind, she sensed the difference in the room from the last time she’d been here. Someone had cleaned it thoroughly. Frowning slightly, she wondered who since it hadn’t been her. Her gaze landed on her target: Granny’s chest of drawers. The bottom left hand drawer held secrets Tessa knew; when she’d been much younger and more foolish she’d pried it open to discover more about her parents.

  Fear formed a ball in her chest. Finding the newspaper clippings on the murder-suicide had haunted her ever since.

  She’d dug no further after that, thrusting the demanding evidence away from her and slamming the drawer shut. Granny had known, of course, and had grilled her mercilessly until she confessed and spilled out everything she’d discovered.

  Now, Tessa centered all her attention on that big drawer, knowing there were more secrets buried in there. Maybe she could find out all her answers to why her grandmother had married Chance’s grandfather.

  Since the discovery, some things had fallen into place. The feud obviously started with them and their divorce. The hatred had spilled into the next generation, and then into hers and Chance’s. Although, outwardly, they’d honored the public appearance of the ongoing battle, privately they’d been drawn to each other growing up. And now Gabe’s will made perfect sense. He wanted to end it all with Chance and her marriage, hoping they could patch up the years-old rift after his death.

  She stepped closer, taking baby steps. Swallowing the lump that formed in her throat, she wondered what she’d find in there. On trembling legs, she bent down, and then dropped to her knees. Rubbing her sweaty palms on her jeans, she blew out a long, heavy breath.

  “This is it,” she muttered, her voice not nearly as confident as a few moments ago.

  Pulling out the nail file she’d brought along for this sole purpose, she slipped the narrow end into the lock, twisting it. Nothing happened. “Damn.” She tried again and again, finally after her fifth try she heard the distinctive click.

  With icy fingers, she tugged the heavy drawer open, wood squealing against wood. She grimaced at the awful noise. Nearly gagging at the heavy stench of mothball fumes escaping, Tessa reared her head back until most of the strong odor dissipated into the room.

  Wafts still could be detected, but she forced herself to carry on. Manila envelopes and cream-colored files sat on top. She glanced at them, digging deeper, thinking the older the secrets, the further down they’d be. On the bottom, she found a wedding picture. Yanking it out, she trembled uncontrollably. There, before her eyes, was something she thought she’d never see on her granny’s face. Love. The young Theresa stared adoringly up at a man who could be the spitting image of Chance. “Gabe Deveraux,” she whispered, and then turned the photo over to read their names on the back.

  So much made sense now. “Granny sees Gabe every time she looks at Chance. Why didn’t we ever consider that? No wonder why she hates Chance.”

  In that moment of clarity, Tessa knew granny would never accept Chance. Her bitterness ran too deep and had lasted too long. Something hard and heavy sat in the pit of Tessa’s stomach. Placing her hand on her flat belly, she protected what she thought grew inside of her. Her baby.

  “And she’s never going to accept our baby, either.” She shook all over at that realization. Tessa knew, from years of experience, she’d have to choose between her granny and her baby. A dagger-like pain stabbed her in the heart. A well of grief bubbled up; she knew she’d lose her granny for certain. The innocent baby would always come first.

  Blinking back tears, Tessa buried the wedding picture again. Pulling away, something caught on her sweater sleeve. Her middle dipped. “The newspaper clippings.”

  Her mother’s grainy image smiled out to her. The wild, untamed hair, just like her own, and sparkling eyes seemed to reach out to Tessa. “Oh, Momma,” she said, choking back tears. Staring at the photo for several long minutes, Tessa saw past the outer woman. With stunning realization, she found the strength underneath it all, a strength she finally understood she possessed, also. She was so much more like her mother than her father. Hadn’t granny always said that.

  “Yes,” Tessa whispered. “I am.” Years of mentally chastising herself for being too wild, too quirky, too everything seeped out of her in one fell swoop. A great burden to please also rushed out of her. Granny had seen her like that and had tried to pound it into her over and over again how wrong it was. “It’s not wrong to be who you are,” she said, smiling widely. “Hasn’t Chance been telling me that in his own way all along?”

  With a lighter spirit, she tucked the clipping back where it had come from. Going to close the drawer, Tessa spied something from the corner of her eye. The edge of a black print of some kind poked out of a cream-colored file. Curious, she investigated further, unveiling a baby’s foot print. “Oh, this must be mine.” She yanked out the folder and flipped through it, hoping to see some baby things of herself. The mother in her yearned to make a connection with the baby she thought she was carrying. “A picture, maybe…”

  The more legal papers she glanced at the more dread filled her. She came upon adoption papers, shocking her to her core. “Granny adopted me?”

  The tears from earlier had blurred her vision, so she rubbed the moisture away, and then reread the official document. “No.” Horror filled her voice. Her heart leapt to her throat. “He lived!”

  The cold, hard facts lay before her in bold, black ink. Numbness suffused her body. Shaking her head in denial, she read the whole thing slowly and with great care, trying to absorb the enormity of it all. “Baby boy,” she said softly. “Born May first.” When she got down to the parental part she gasped aloud at the fake signature. “Mother, Tessa Warfield.” Swallowing hard, she dropped her gaze one line, shock reverberating through her body like an electrical charge. “Father, Chance Deveraux.”

  Clamping her eyes shut, she choked back the deep, guttural scream. “She knew all along. She knew all along.” Sucking in a sharp breath, she cried out as her whole body ached with the loss. “The baby didn’t die after all. The baby didn’t die. She sold my baby. She sold my baby.”

  ***

  She lost all track of time sitting there clutching the file folder to her chest, weeping uncontrollably for her son, for herself. Great wails erupted from the center of her being where she’d stored her grief for all these years. Waves of pain washed over her, crashing down on her.

  Finally, when she was spent of all her tears, she sucked in great gulps of cleansing air. The sharp breaths hurt, but nothing matched the searing brand of betrayal from her granny stamped into her soul. That cut was the deepest one of all; without her interference Tessa would have raised her son.

  She leaned back against the bed, still cradling the folder. Her thoughts whirled. Granny had demanded loyalty to the family above all else. Tessa had given it without question.

  Now, she knew that loyalty had only gone one way; granny never was loyal to Tessa and what she needed or wanted. She’d signed away the baby for her own purposes, never considering the overwhelming injustice she’d heaped on both Tessa and her son.

  “Selfish,” she said, “so selfish. Just like always. And pig-headed, too. Because she couldn’t put aside her hatred for Chance’s granddad, her ex-husband, she tried to instill that in me. Poison, nothing but passing on poison.”

  Years of snatches of conversations blared in her head. Granny’s voice echoed with the continuous negative comments. Putting all of it together, Tessa grimaced inwardly. “Why didn’t I see through her before now?” Shaking her head, she tried to silence the noise, but it refused to quiet and forced her to view it.

  Letting the stream of thought go on, she realized the sacrifices had been mostly on her part. She’d given up friends, activities,
and a promising dance career all for granny’s benefit. Each time granny had given her what seemed like good reasons, but, now she knew it was because of a little old lady’s fears of being left alone. The guilt that she’d piled upon Tessa each and every time had done the trick.

  “And the baby,” she whispered, “was the worst of all.” She’d stood her ground when she kept the baby. The strength and courage that that had taken jolted her into believing she could do anything. “Perhaps that’s what scared her, my independence.”

  All had gone smoothly until she began to show. Granny had arranged behind her back for a trip to an unwed mother’s home. “Just to see how you like it, my dear,” Granny had said. Then, once there, she’d been signed in and whisked away. “It’s for your own good. We wouldn’t want people in town to talk, now, would we?”

  A chill went down Tessa’s spine at that memory and the next one. “My God, she’d planned everything with such precision.” Granny’s last visit had been timed perfectly; Tessa went into labor at only six and half months. Drugged to combat the excruciating pain, she’d gone in and out of consciousness the whole time, delivering the premature baby boy. Only much later, granny had told her the baby was stillborn, dying in her womb.

  “Lies, all lies,” she said numbly.

  Heaving a breath, she stared blankly at the dresser drawer still yawning open. A hollow ache radiated through her. Nothing would ever be the same again for her. “Who can you trust if you can’t even trust your own flesh and blood?” she wondered aloud. The silent answer echoed in her heart. Chance.

  She bit back a cry. All this time she’d kept the truth from him and now she expected him to forgive her if she told him. Of course, now she would tell him, but she couldn’t predict the outcome. She guessed he’d be as angry and feel as betrayed by her as she was by her granny.

  “What a mess,” she muttered. Closing her eyes briefly, she sucked in a shaky breath, realizing what she had to do was almost too much to bear. But she had to. There was no doubt about it. Her heart clutched in her chest as she came to the wrenching conclusion. Her life was never going to be the same ever again.

  In the back of her mind, she heard the car door slam outside, and then the front door open and close. Still she sat there, too weary to move.

  “Tessa? Where are you, girl? I know you’re here; your car’s in the driveway.” Granny’s voice rose higher with each sentence. Tessa didn’t move a muscle.

  At the sound of her granny climbing the stairs, accompanied by nasty mutterings, she took a deep breath, praying for strength and guidance.

  “Land’s sake, what are you doing?” Granny stood in the doorway.

  Rolling her head to the left, Tessa opened her eyes. She had thought the anger would boil once again at the sight of her grandmother, but it didn’t. Only pity resounded through her. “I’m finally finding out the truth,” Tessa said, her voice coming out far stronger than she felt inside.

  The gray-haired, elderly woman seemed to shrink right before her eyes. The color drained from her face as she grabbed at her chest. “No!”

  With leaden limbs, Tessa slowly stood, still clinging to the folder. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some things I need to take care of.” She brushed past her granny and walked out.

  “Don’t you dare turn your back on me, young lady.”

  Tessa stilled, and then twisted around. Looking the older woman in the eyes, she said, “I’m not the one who did, granny. You did years ago.”

  Chapter 24

  The crunching of gravel beneath her tires grated along her nerves. Chance’s truck was nowhere in sight, allowing her to let out a sigh of relief. “Buying time,” she said her thoughts aloud.

  A few minutes later, she entered the rear door of the bar. The slash of light in the dark supply room revealed only piles of boxes and no humans in sight. With trepidation, she went into the nearly empty bar. Her gaze landed on a small round table in the back of the room. She made her way to her destination, sinking down into the chair once she arrived. Carefully, she set the folder down on the table top, smoothing the cream-colored surface absently.

  “Hey, you awake in there?” Walter asked, waving a hand in front of her face.

  Snapped out of her reverie, she looked up into his scowling features. Worry soon replaced his normal grimace. “Ah…you need a beer or something?”

  “Water,” she choked out.

  “Sure thing.” He turned away.

  “And Gil Lambert, please.”

  He twirled back around, his eyebrows raised and his jaw slack. His eyes went from hers, dropped to the manila folder, and then back to hers. He swallowed hard. “Coming right up.” As he left, he called out for Max. “Here, boy, you stay with her, all right.”

  The dog lumbered over to Tessa, lying down on her feet. His heavy weight should have been a burden, but it turned out to be a welcome presence of devotion.

  She barely noticed Walter return. The water glass stayed untouched for quite some time before she took several sips. By the time she’d put it down Gil stood before her.

  Gazing up at the tall, disheveled lawyer, Tessa smiled inwardly. Even though he always appeared wrinkled and out of sorts no one, but no one, could fault his keen mind.

  “Tessa, are you all right?” he asked, pulling out the chair opposite hers.

  “No.” She gulped hard, nearly strangled on that one word.

  His large, warm hand covered her cold, clasped ones. “Do you need Chance?”

  Clamping her eyes shut, she said to herself, oh and how. Looking at him again, she took a deep breath and shook her head. “Not for this part.” Slowly, she explained her dilemma and how she’d just discovered the betrayal. With shaking hands, she opened the file and pulled out the forged adoption papers. “Legally, is there anything I can do?”

  His dark, tight-lipped serious features told her more than any words could say. He hated what granny had done to her. For long, drawn-out moments he surveyed the document. “This isn’t your signature?”

  “No.”

  “And Chance’s?”

  “He doesn’t even know about it,” she whispered hoarsely.

  He went to say something, but stopped himself.

  Something in his demeanor had her confessing. “He doesn’t remember that one time we were together as teenagers. He was drunk. But,” she drew in a long, unsteady breath, “I intend to tell him tonight.”

  He nodded. “Good.”

  “Well? About the papers?”

  He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, making it stand on end even more. “I guess I don’t have to tell you that this is a sticky situation. On one hand, we have a crime against you and you can press charges. On the other, it’s your granny.”

  Shock raced through her. “Oh, I won’t prosecute, no matter how terrible a thing she did. No, I meant about the baby, could…I find out about him?”

  “Custody?” It was his turn to show his surprise.

  Confused, she shrugged. “I really don’t know. I’ve read about cases like this in the news where the birth parents get the kids back and how wrenching it is for the child and the adoptive parents. They’re the only family my son knows. How could I do that to him?” Tears smarted the backs of her eyes.

  “Yet, you’d like to find out how he is, if he’s happy, if he’s healthy?” The softly spoken words nearly were her undoing.

  “Yes. Is that terrible of me?”

  “No, Tessa, it’s a mother’s love.”

  The tears came then, slow and silently running down her cheeks. She swiped at that. “I guess that’s my answer then. I don’t want to be selfish and hurt him by taking him away from his family,” she choked on the last word. “Not like I’ve been hurt by granny’s selfishness.”

  He patted her hand. “There may be a way to make your name and address available to him, so when he comes of age if he wants to contact you he’ll be able to.”

  Hope filled her heart. “Really? I’d like that.”

&nb
sp; Staring at her, Gil said, “You’re a good woman, Tessa Warfield Deveraux. And he’s very lucky that you’re his birth mother.”

  Warmth spread to her cheeks. Brushing aside his compliments, she said, “About that Deveraux part… ah…I want to know if Gabe’s will only stated marriage for six months and didn’t go into further details.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Can Chance and I just be married for that time and live apart?”

  ***

  Tessa sat on the hardwood floor of her dance studio. The joyful memories were now a double-edge sword; she’d never have this space to dance in again. Her heart ached at the loss of not having that time again with the kids and with Chance.

  The late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the windows, the rays stretching across the wood, warming it under its touch. With Max beside her, she waited for Chance to come home. Staring at the door, half of her willed it to open and Chance to walk through. The other half however, wanted nothing more than to pick up the suitcases stacked beside the entrance and rush right out so she didn’t have to face him. But, she knew he deserved the truth from her and no one else.

  She dropped her gaze to the folder lying in front of her, drawn to it almost like a magnet. Her secret hid amongst the papers. Now she realized keeping it had done nothing more than to postpone the inevitable. Only now telling Chance would be much more devastating because of the years of lies. She was just one more person in his life he couldn’t trust.

  From down below, she heard footsteps. Her heart leapt into her throat as they ascended the stairs. Max barked once and she patted him. The sound of the turning doorknob seemed to scream through her head, her pulse hammering away. She gulped hard when Chance filled the doorframe.

  “Sunshine, you around?” he asked as he shut the door. He stilled when he spotted the luggage. Whipping around, he found her huddled on the floor, now hugging her knees.