by Regan Black
“Do you think this is why Russ and Mara did the formal adoption?”
“They adopted your sister, too.” Her heart ached for him. “From what you’ve told me, they loved you both. Imperfectly, sure, but sincerely. They made you all a family for the right reasons. I think Russ considered you one of his sons all along.”
She gave herself points for tact and diplomacy. If only her mother could see her now, the cursed “big thinker” doling out calm rather than instigating debates that led nowhere.
“I... I have to go.” He grabbed the stack of papers and shoved them into his back pocket. “You’ll be okay here with the baby?”
“Absolutely.” Whatever cropped up, she would handle as she’d been hired to do. “Are you going to see Mason?” She suspected he had a different destination in mind.
“No.” He snagged his truck keys from the desktop and stormed out of the office. In the foyer, he paused. “I’m going over to see Russ and Mara. They owe me an explanation.”
If the truth of his paternity had stayed a secret this long, she doubted Russ and Mara would agree with him. Still, she sympathized with his need for answers.
She turned back to the office when he stalked back inside. He exchanged one set of keys for another. “I shouldn’t take the truck with the baby seat. You might need it.”
“We’ll be fine,” she promised. A man who could think of others while swamped by anger and pain was a rare breed. “Unless you’d like us to go with you?” she offered. Anything to help ease his burden.
“No, thank you. They’ll be reluctant to discuss this kind of thing in front of a stranger.”
“I understand.”
He stepped close and gave her a hard, fast kiss. “You’re not a stranger to me.”
Before she had a chance to recover or give him a final boost of encouragement, he was gone.
Chapter 8
At the base of the drive, Fox stared at up at Colton Manor, situated just above the valley and backed by the mountain. A massive and gorgeous testament to the success of the Colton Empire, the house had been built after he left for college. He’d never felt at home here, though the stunning showpiece with all its luxurious features and separate wings offered plenty of space for secrets to float around unnoticed.
All these years it had gnawed away at him that Aunt Mara had never accepted him as easily as she had Sloane. Was it because she’d known the truth Fox had just discovered? There was only one way to find out. Another bolt of white-hot anger flashed through him, as uncomfortable and foreign as the idea that his real father was Russ Colton.
He tried again to organize his thoughts as he stalked to the front door and rang the doorbell. Too many questions and illogical leaps of conjecture weren’t doing him any favors. To his surprise, Russ answered.
“Hi...” Fox didn’t know how to fill in the blank when “Uncle Russ” didn’t come out as it had every other day of his life. A tall man with wide shoulders, he was thicker in the midsection these days. His hair was mostly gray now, but once it had been nearly the same color as Fox’s. Their eyes were different, Fox’s blue and Russ’s a brown that his other sons had inherited.
Which man had had a greater impact on his life—the distracted father or the abusive one?
“You look rough, Fox.” Russ stepped back and welcomed him in. “Is the baby keeping you up at night?”
Of course they’d heard about the baby. That wasn’t a secret. “He sleeps well. Kelsey got him on a schedule that fits into my routine.” Days on the ranch started early, so he didn’t really mind the 4:00 a.m. wake-up calls.
“Those days are long gone around here. Can’t say I miss them,” Russ said, leading the way toward the gathering room off the main kitchen. Mara rose from her seat when they walked in.
Fox’s palms went damp when he saw his aunt. “Aunt Mara.”
He didn’t bother attempting an awkward hug this time. Though she’d done her best as a mother, she’d found her calling in business as director of operations at The Chateau. She looked as polished as ever with her blond hair styled up today and a bold dress in autumn colors with a short black jacket.
“Hello, Fox.” Her deep blue eyes raked him head to toe. “You look tired.”
He shrugged, more comfortable with her criticism than he would’ve been with compliments. “The baby and I had an early start.”
“I can’t believe you’ve taken in that child.”
“He’s family,” Fox replied, suppressing another wave of anger. “You did the same, right? I’m just following your example.”
She sniffed, settled back into her chair as aloof and confident as a queen on her throne. “The difference is I knew who you were.”
“Did you?”
“Of course.” Confusion rippled across her features. “You and Sloane were my sister’s children.” To his shock, her eyes glistened with tears. “You looked so much like Dana when you were younger.”
Fox had a sudden recollection of her saying that shortly after they’d moved in. Not to him, but to her husband.
“Have you found the father?” Russ asked, taking a seat near Mara and urging Fox to do the same on the other side of the conversation area anchored by a stone fireplace.
“I think we have. Agent Roberts put a rush on the samples I collected.” He met the older man’s gaze. “I appreciate you agreeing to submit a cheek swab so we had more data to work with.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mara’s fingers dig into the arms of her chair.
“Did it help?” Russ asked.
“It did.” Fox pulled the results from his back pocket. “The baby isn’t mine. His DNA indicates he’s the son of one of the cousins.”
“Then why did someone drop him on your doorstep?” Mara queried. “You really should have let child services handle this.”
“It may come to that,” Fox agreed. “It will depend on what the father chooses.”
“Fox—” Mara began.
“Are you worried?” he snapped at her. “Worried about what I’ll say next?”
She jerked back as if he’d slapped her and the reaction only made him angrier. “Just like your father. Harrison never could hold his temper,” she said. “I warned Dana before they got married. And we did everything possible to give you a better example when we took you in.”
“Mara,” Russ warned. “There’s no need to go there.”
“He’s an adult now.” She turned to Fox. “We never spoke ill of your father back then, but he couldn’t have been an easy man to live with.”
“You were concerned those tendencies would pass down to me by blood?”
She raised her chin, daring him to contradict her. “You’re the expert on genetics, but I know abuse can run in families, whatever the reason.”
Of all the times and topics to share his aunt’s viewpoint, this was the most awkward. He could leave now and never say a word about what he’d found. He trusted Kelsey to keep the secret. Thinking of her, the way she moved through her yoga exercises and managed to stay calm no matter how the baby fussed, steadied him for what he had to say.
“You know I loved my parents,” he began. “They weren’t perfect, but I loved them. I love you both and I’m grateful for how you raised us.” He met and held Mara’s gaze. “You set a good example for Sloane and for me.” His sister had found happiness and was raising a lively daughter. Fox didn’t want to think how that might be different if Harrison had turned his hard fist to her, too.
“Stop dancing around whatever’s on your mind,” Russ said. “We’re here for you, Fox. Always will be.”
He hoped he wasn’t about to irrevocably change that. “I looked at the DNA and I noticed a correlation across all of the samples that didn’t make sense.” He tapped the papers. “When I compared my DNA to you, Wyatt, Decker and Blaine, the results show I’m a half brother rat
her than a cousin.”
A frown worked its way slowly across Russ’s brow. Mara’s gaze, sharp and accusing, bored into Fox.
“I guess I don’t understand what that means,” Russ said.
“Your sons are your sons,” Fox said. “But it seems I’m your son, too.”
Russ shoved to his feet. “You’re saying Dana and I...we...” He shook his head. “That’s impossible.”
“Stop blustering,” Mara’s voice was as brittle as the first ice over a lake. “I know how you felt about her.”
“I married you!”
“Of course you did. It’s what our parents wanted. And you did your duty by me,” she snapped. “I’m truly the lucky one.”
Russ shifted his attention to Fox. “There’s been a mistake,” he insisted. He pushed a hand though his hair, scrubbed at his chin. “If you were mine, Dana would’ve told me. She wouldn’t—”
“Of course he’s yours!” Mara twisted her wedding band around and around on her finger. “Can’t you see it in his face?”
Fox looked from his uncle—father—to his aunt. He studied her. “You knew.”
“I suspected something from the start.” Mara sniffed delicately. “Dying in that hospital, my sister begged me to take in Fox and Sloane, pleaded with me to keep her secret.” Standing, she crossed the room and drilled a finger into her husband’s chest. “All this time, I’ve been faithful to you, while raising your child without a single complaint. I’ve stayed when I had every right to leave and take everything.”
“Well, let me draft a thank-you note right now,” Russ snarled. “You had no right to keep this from me, or him.”
“I did as my sister asked. Dana told me Harrison had found out about Fox and lost his temper. That was no accident,” she said to Fox. “He meant to punish her and was willing to die in the effort.”
Fox couldn’t move. Dumbstruck, his entire body had gone cold. The accident had been intentional. His heart caught in a brutal vise, his gut twisted. He pressed a hand to his stomach as he clenched his teeth against the sickening upheaval. If he puked on this floor, Mara would never forgive him.
Wait. Shouldn’t she be worried about him forgiving her?
“Mara, stop.” Russ was at Fox’s side and the strong hand on his shoulder was the only thing that felt real.
“I won’t.” Her blue eyes flashed. “Harrison was useless and weak and vindictive. He killed my sister.” Mara paced, her heels clicking on the slate floor. “Was I angry? Yes. But I honored Dana’s last request and raised Fox alongside my sons.” Her gaze lashed Fox. “Every time I looked at you I saw my husband’s betrayal.”
“That’s why,” Fox muttered. Overcoming the shock, he shrugged off Russ’s support, backing away from the two people he’d always counted on. “That’s why nothing I did pleased you.”
“That’s nonsense,” Mara denied. “I loved you as Dana would have done. Your memory is blurred from grief.”
“No, he’s right,” Russ said.
“What do you know about it?” Mara rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. “All those years, your Colton Empire took precedent over our children. This one—” she sneered at Fox “—moves in and suddenly you’re striving for father of the year awards. You’ll never convince me you didn’t know he was yours.”
Fox knew Russ couldn’t fake the pain and shock that mirrored his own. What now?
“I didn’t, I swear it, Fox,” Russ said. “If Dana were alive...” He paused when his voice cracked. “If she were still with us, I would demand some answers.” He glared at his wife. “I gave him more attention because I could see you were content to let him flounder.”
“You doted on him because he was Dana’s!” Mara turned toward the view of the mountains. “You were making up for Harrison’s ill temper.”
“You knew that, too?” Fox whispered. And no one intervened? “My mom was wonderful,” he said. Who was he trying to convince—himself or them? “You, Uncle Russ, were a better dad than the one I started with. I’m grateful for that.”
“I hope you’re happy,” Mara huffed, folding her arms. “Do you feel better for turning our lives upside down?”
Again, he was the problem. That was her stance from day one. “Information and answers are good things, Aunt Mara.”
“What will you do now?” Russ asked wearily.
“What should I do?” he countered. The skeletons had crashed through the closet door. “Does anything change? Legally, I still have six siblings.” And all of them were half siblings now. His real father was alive, not dead. A workaholic instead of an abuser. “We’re still family.” His gaze drifted to the wall where collages of highlights and school pictures were framed, as if all seven children had been one big happy family.
Mara had allowed for that much at least. It had to count for something. Why did he feel so damned alone?
“Are you going to tell them?” Mara demanded.
“Is there a reason not to?” Fox asked quietly.
“You think I want the public to know that my husband had an affair and forced me to raise the by-product?”
Fox shook his head. What was he, a cut of pork? He marveled that Mara’s sharp words could still slice right through him. His home life could have been worse. He’d grown up, completed school and now owned a successful business. There had been girlfriends and friendships along the way, even if he wasn’t yet married.
“I’m going.”
Mara raced after him and grabbed his arm, her perfect manicure digging into the fabric of his shirt. “Who do you intend to tell?”
“Who would care?” Russ’s other kids might look at their father with some disappointment, but it was all water under the bridge at this point. “It wasn’t your mistake,” Fox pointed out. “You’re the wounded party. You’re the hero for taking me in. Don’t you want the world to know?”
She slapped him.
His cheek stinging, Russ compounded the shock and stepped between them. Using only his height advantage, he forced her back. “Apologize, Mara.”
“I’ll do no such thing!”
“I’m the one you’re mad at,” Russ said, his voice cool. “Take a shot at me.” He spread his arms wide.
Fox walked around them and picked up his coat to make his escape.
“He’s an embarrassment,” Mara screeched. “Your old infatuation with Dana will ruin me if this gets out.”
Fox heard Russ’s voice, low and intense, but he couldn’t make out the words. Not his business. He kept going, through the foyer, out the front door and to his truck. He’d come for answers and gotten them. Too bad he didn’t feel any better.
Driving away, he called his aunt every name he could think of. He hated her, hated the burden she’d heaped on his young shoulders during the worst days of his life. Who would he tell? Everyone who needed to know. A little embarrassment was nothing compared to the doubt and insecurity he had to overcome because of her sniping and neglect.
He’d tell whoever he pleased that Russ Colton was in fact his father. Maybe then the world would stop waiting for him to lose his temper and lash out the way his “father” had. On a wave of indescribable sorrow, Fox pulled to the side of the road. He’d been driving without paying any attention and wound up at the accident site.
Murder site.
He had heard his parents say I love you. There had been laughter and cheerful traditions to offset the random bouts of temper. How could a man say those three words to a woman and then kill her?
Fox’s stomach rolled. As angry and hurt as he felt right this minute, he couldn’t comprehend such a reprehensible choice. Mara had slapped him and he hadn’t been remotely inclined to retaliate.
Slowly, like the sun creeping up on the morning, relief seeped through Fox’s system. He didn’t harbor a genetic predisposition to violence.
* * *
/> Lonely in the office, Kelsey took the baby upstairs to the house for his afternoon nap. She’d brought along the stack of articles she was wading through for the breeding research. With everything on Fox’s mind, she thought fleshing out some new ideas would be a positive counterpoint on what had surely been a difficult conversation.
When Baby John awoke, Kelsey changed him and gave him a bottle, then took him out to the backyard for some fresh air and sunshine. The playset Fox had built for his niece had components that could be switched out based on a child’s age. Last week, he’d hooked up the baby swing again, though it was still a little early for this little guy to use it.
Kelsey sat down on a full-size swing, keeping John tucked up close. He kicked his feet, and she used her foot to rock them back and forth. The baby laughed and he kicked again. “You’ll get the hang of this in no time,” she said, kissing the top of his head.
He was the happiest baby she’d ever met, and that was saying quite a bit considering how many little ones she’d cared for before leaving home. Not to mention the babysitting jobs and nanny posts she’d taken to get through school.
When his cheeks were pink from the breeze, she left the swings and carried him around the yard. She pointed out various plants and objects, giving him the names of each though it was too soon for him to either remember or form the words. She was about to walk down to the barn and show the baby the horses, one of his favorite things to do, when she noticed the black sedan parked on the road again.
She should’ve noticed the car sooner even with the back half of the car in the shadows of the trees. Whoever sat in the front seats would have a clear view of Fox’s property. A chill slid down her spine and she shook it off. The car was too far away for her to see anyone inside. The odds of her brothers buying or renting a car that nice were slim to none. At least not before they used her to land the fortune they felt she owed them.