by Jeanne Allan
“Nice! It’s fabulous!” Allie said. “You shouldn’t have.”
The reason for the statue belatedly hit him. It was a wedding gift for him and Allie. His gaze flashed to Allie. She gave him a barely perceptible shrug of embarrassment, which told him the gift had taken her by surprise. They’d have to graciously accept and decide later what to do about the gift. “Well, thanks, Greeley.” The overly enthusiastic thank-you sounded fake.
Allie slid her hand over the smallest horse. “It’s beautiful.”
Zane wondered if anyone else heard the tiny catch in her voice. Or saw the moist shimmer in her eyes.
“A horse doesn’t look like that, Daddy.”
Everyone laughed at Hannah’s objection. Zane heard relief in their laughter.
“Greeley didn’t copy real horses. She made what it feels like to be a horse.” Allie took Hannah’s hand and led her a few feet from the statue. “Close your eyes a little bit. Squint. Now pretend you’re a little filly and you’re running with your mama and your daddy. See that them?” Allie pointed. “That’s your tail flying behind you as you run.”
Hannah tipped her head one way and then the other, staring at the sculpture, her face screwed up. Suddenly her eyes widened and she said excitedly, “I see me, I mean, I see the little filly. I like her. Is she mine?”
Greeley leaned down and kissed Hannah’s cheek. “The statue is a present for all of you.” Turning her head, Greeley, looked directly at Zane. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I call it?”
He didn’t want to ask. “What?” His voice came out a croak.
“Hannah’s Family.” Challenge filled her voice.
Greeley must not know. Now wasn’t the time to tell her. They’d find out soon enough. Doyle would probably call a press conference. If Zane thought about that now, he’d ruin Hannah’s party.
He dragged his gaze from the statue and collided with a hard stare from Cheyenne. It didn’t take much imagination to sense hostility from Allie’s sisters. Zane wondered what Allie had told them. He glanced around the rest of the group. Allie and Hannah, joined by Davy and the Nortons, discussed the statue. Doyle stared at the statue with a puzzled expression. Steele looked sympathetically in Zane’s direction while Mary gave Zane an encouraging smile. Worth winked.
What the hell was going on? Before Zane could ask, Cheyenne said, “We’re next.” She handed Allie a flat package wrapped in silver and white. Allie wore a fixed smile. Zane could almost see her gritting her teeth to get through this ordeal. She ripped off the paper, disclosing a large manila envelope. Her smile barely faltered as she opened it and looked inside before handing the envelope to Zane.
He pulled out glossy hotel brochures.
“For your honeymoon,” Cheyenne said. “First-class suites at as many of the Steele hotels as you like, when you like, and for how long you like. Let me know, and I’ll make all the arrangements. We’ll keep Hannah.”
Zane couldn’t look at Allie. “Great.”
Everyone ignored the newlyweds’ obvious lack of enthusiasm.
“It’s hard to top those,” Kristy said, “so we didn’t even try.” An elaborately wrapped package magically appeared from behind Jake’s back. He must have gone to their car while Zane had his eyes shut. “Zane’s turn,” Kristy said.
Zane took the package Jake handed him. He’d never considered wedding gifts. There had been a few when he married Kim. From relatives and her friends. Awkwardly he tugged at the bow with stiff, clumsy fingers.
“Hurry up, Daddy,” Hannah urged impatiently.
“Why don’t you help me?” He squatted on his haunches.
Hannah eagerly ripped the ribbon and paper from the box as Zane held it. She lifted the lid and breathed, “Ooooh, they’re beautiful balls. Look, Daddy.” She pointed. “One, two, three.”
Kristy laughed. “Special balls. Hand-blown glass Christmas ones for your Christmas tree.”
Pain rolled over Zane. Allie would be long gone by Christmas. And if he lost Hannah... She could pick out her favorite and take it with her. If Doyle would let her. Allie could do what she wanted with the others. Without Allie or Hannah, Zane would never celebrate Christmas again. Or any other holiday.
“Last, but hopefully not least,” Worth said in a jovial voice. He pulled a slim, narrow white packet from his shirt pocket. “From Mom and me with love.”
“You open it,” Zane said to Allie.
She quickly shook her head.
“I can do it,” Davy said hopefully.
Everyone laughed. Cheyenne opened her mouth, but before she could explain why he couldn’t, Zane handed the boy the packet. “It’s your turn. Hannah opened the last.”
Davy ripped off the paper. “It’s a picture of a horse.”
Zane’s gaze flashed to Worth. Allie’s brother gave him a broad grin. Slowly Zane reached for the color photograph. A well-muscled, bay quarter horse stared arrogantly at the viewer.
“Jackpot,” said Worth. “Five-year-old stallion sired by Bullion. His dam is Poker Chip, who was sired by Bonanza. He’s yours and Allie’s. Let me know when you want him delivered.”
It took all Zane’s strength not to crumple the photograph. He and Worth used to talk about combining their ranches’ bloodlines. They’d planned to breed one of Zane’s mares to a Lassiter stallion after Zane and Allie married. In celebration of their wedding. There had been no wedding to celebrate back then. There was still nothing to celebrate.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. A quick-moving storm had passed, more sound than fury, although rain had lashed at the windows and thunder rocked the house. Moonie had been restless, whining as he paced between bedrooms, but Hannah slept through the squall.
Despite the space of cool mattress separating them, Allie knew Zane lay awake on his side of the bed. “I told them no wedding presents.” She’d made the same statement within seconds of their guests’ departure. Zane hadn’t answered then, and apparently had no intention of answering now.
If Allie hadn’t been dumbfounded to see Scan Doyle and worried about Zane’s reaction, she would have guessed what was coming as soon as she saw Worth in the pickup with Greeley and her mother as passengers and the horse trailer hitched behind.
“I should have suspected when I saw the trailer, but I thought Worth had been too lazy to unhitch it.” Zane’s silence spoke as eloquently as words. Worth was never too lazy.
If he’d yell at her, she could yell back. This silent condemnation got on her nerves. “Are you going to sulk forever?”
No answer.
“We won’t have to stay married because of a few paltry gifts.”
Zane shifted. “More than paltry.”
Was there was a dollar limit that determined if a couple had to stay married? “Whatever. Greeley will have no trouble selling the sculpture. The gallery is always begging her for more. Kristy will want Hannah to have the Christmas ornaments, and we haven’t actually received anything from Thomas and Cheyenne.” She had to mention the final gift. Knowing about Zane’s and Worth’s long-ago plans, she knew what owning the stallion would mean to Zane. “There’s no reason you and Worth can’t work out some kind of deal with Jackpot.”
“Why didn’t you tell them about Hannah?”
Unable to decipher his tone of voice, Allie hesitated before saying cautiously, “I did.”
“Greeley named the statue ‘Hannah’s Family’,” he said flatly. “She wouldn’t have done that if she knew Doyle was the man who got Kim pregnant.”
“No, she wouldn’t. She knows about Sean’s claim. Cheyenne knows it, and I’m sure she told Thomas. Mom knows it. And they all agree with me that you are Hannah’s father. In fact,” Allie said, building up steam, “the entire Western world can see how much Hannah looks like you, except for four blind, very stupid people. You, Sean and the Taylors.”
Turning his back to her, Zane pretended to sleep. Allie wasn’t fooled. She wished the darned test results would get here. So she could leave. Get on with t
he rest of her life. Possibilities abounded. She loathed them all.
Neither of them slept a wink. Allie could almost hear Zane greet the dawn with a sigh of relief as he practically leaped out of bed and grabbed his clothes.
He didn’t bother being quiet. So he knew she lay awake.
Allie made herself stay in bed. Giving him time to eat and escape the house.
The front door closed. Throwing back the covers, she left the bed and stole over to the window. Zane stood in front off the metal sculpture, so still he might have been a statue himself.
Hannah loved the sculpture. She wouldn’t understand why it had to go away. Maybe Greeley could cut the statue apart. Remove the mare. Weld the two remaining horses back together. Father and daughter. A closed unit.
Ruth or Allie had picked up the mail and dropped it on his desk. Slumped in his chair, Zane had no idea how long he’d been staring at the unopened envelope on top of the stack. He couldn’t make himself reach for it.
The sounds of a horse trotting came through the open office window. Allie must be putting the paint through her paces.
He got up and headed outdoors. If he stayed in the office another second, his whole body would explode through his skin. The envelope could wait.
Until now he’d made a point of being elsewhere when Allie worked with the filly so she couldn’t accuse him of checking on her. He hoped she’d take offense at his appearance. A furious, no-holds-barred argument might take his mind off the envelope. Pain ripped his insides. An out-of-control, ten-ton truck speeding toward him couldn’t take his mind off the envelope.
Copper stood outside the round pen, her reins loosely tied to a post. Hannah sat in Allie’s saddle on the large mare, her attention riveted to the action in the pen.
Allie flapped a saddle blanket on and around the filly. The paint watched, her eyes interested. Zane could hardly believe she was the same wild-eyed horse he’d trailered home kicking and screaming. The filly’s ears flicked in his direction, but she didn’t move.
Allie looked over at him. “She’s going to be a sweetheart, Zane. She’s eager to please and smart.”
Hannah turned her head. “Daddy, look! I’m riding Copper.”
“I see.” Hannah had been riding his gentlest horse for over a year. Zane knew Allie’s elderly horse from the many hours he used to spend on the Lassiter ranch, and while Copper might be large, the mare was as reliable as a favorite nanny.
Resting his arm on the mare’s hindquarters, Zane clutched the back of the mare’s saddle. Once he opened that envelope, it would be official. He wouldn’t be entitled to call Hannah his daughter. The loving, the caring, the raising—they’d count for nothing. Nothing would count but biology. The hell with that!
Allie watched Zane out of the corner of her eye as she worked with the filly. His hat shaded his eyes, but she could see the taut lines drawn around his mouth, and the rigid set to his jaw. The way he held his body as if warding off blows. Something terrible had happened.
The filly gave her a curious look, sensing Allie’s tension. Another time Allie might have smiled at the horse’s discernment. The filly was too young for Hannah now, but as they matured, they’d make wonderful companions. She thought once again that Zane had always had a good eye for picking a horse.
Zane. She couldn’t work with the horse with her attention centered on Zane. Every cell in her body screamed to know what was wrong.
Allie opened the gate and the filly trotted into the pasture. After a few yards, the paint turned and blew air through her nose in Allie’s direction, then wheeled and cantered toward the small herd on the far side of the pasture. The filly had started the little ritual about a week ago. It reminded Allie how her students used to call goodbye to her as they climbed in the school bus. “Goodbye,” she called to the paint. “See you tomorrow.”
“Was Honey good today?” Hannah asked anxiously.
Allie let herself out of the pen. “Very good. She knew you were watching.”
“I touched her, Daddy,” Hannah said proudly. “Me and Allie rode Copper by Honey and I petted her. She liked it.”
Allie frowned as she saw Zane’s white-knuckled grip on the saddle. “I wouldn’t let Hannah do anything I didn’t think perfectly safe.”
Zane gave her a blank look. “What?”
Obviously this wasn’t about Hannah riding Copper or touching Honey. Allie lifted Hannah down from the mare. “Go wash up. I’ll be in as soon as I take care of Copper.”
“Don’t wanna go in and wash.”
“Ruth made spaghetti. After you wash your hands thoroughly, you may put some of those pretty paper napkins on the table.”
Hannah ran toward the house.
Allie undid Copper’s reins and looked at Zane. Seeing the bleak glaze in his eyes, she reached over and touched his hand glued to her saddle. “I want to put Copper with the other horses,” she said gently. “You need to let go of her.”
He stared at Allie, then at his hand. Abruptly he released his grip on the saddle and jammed his hands into his pockets as he stared down at the ground.
Unbuckling Copper’s saddle, Allie flung it and the mare’s saddle blanket over the top rung of the pen before she turned Copper loose in the pasture.
Zane slugged a fence post.
Allie’s heart literally stopped. She’d brought in the mail. She’d seen the envelope. Zane’s reaction could mean only one thing. She had trouble breathing. No. It couldn’t be right. She wasn’t wrong. Not about this. “We’ll do the tests again,” she said quickly. “Somewhere else. They’re wrong. They made a mistake. They had to have.”
“I don’t remember much about sleeping with Kim that night. I’d had more than a few drinks and the next thing I remember is waking up naked beside Kim in her bed. I had one hell of a headache. It was all a blur to me. Guess I didn’t want to remember the details. Later, she laughed about that night. Said she was looking for a sucker because Doyle wouldn’t marry her even though she was pregnant with his child. She said I never touched her, that I’d passed out before I could.”
“You touched her. Hannah’s proof of that. I don’t care what Kim said. Or what that stupid company’s stupid test said.”
“Cut it out, Allie. I could lose Hannah. Isn’t that revenge enough for you? Does teasing me with false hope increase your pleasure or some damn sick thing like that?”
“It’s not false hope. You are Hannah’s father. Physical evidence doesn’t lie. Okay, so DNA is physical, but they messed up the test. Accidentally switched the names or something. We’ll do it again. And if we get the same stupid answer, we’ll do something else. I don’t care what you say. The courts won’t take Hannah away from you.”
He didn’t look at her, just shook his head.
“What exactly did the letter say?” She may as well have asked her question of the fence post. Whirling around, Allie whipped across the yard and into the house.
The envelope sat on Zane’s desk.
Unopened. The idiot!
Snatching the envelope from the desk, Allie ripped it open. If Zane didn’t like her opening his mail, that was too darned bad. Taking only a second to read the contents, she stormed back outside to the corral. Zane hadn’t moved.
Allie thrust the information in his face. “Read this.”
Pushing her hand aside, he said tonelessly, “I don’t need to. I know what it says.”
“When did you develop the ability to read through sealed envelopes?”
“Go away, Allie. You’ve had your fun.”
“Fun?” Allie yelled. “My fun hasn’t even begun. First I’m going to kick you in the behind because you’re so darned stupid and stubborn. That’ll be fun. In fact, it will be so much fun, I think I’ll kick you more than once. Maybe I’ll hog-tie you and throw you on the ground and jump up and down on your entire backside until you scream for mercy. That will really be fun. And when Hannah comes out to see what’s going on, I’ll tell her I’m having fun trying to kick some sense
into her stupid, stubborn mule of a father.”
“Let it go. I—” He spun around. “What did you say?”
“I said stupid, stubborn mule.”
“You said, ‘her father.’ Give me that.”
“Why? You already know what it says. Remember?”
“Allie,” he said in a warning voice.
“Zane,” she mimicked, holding the letter behind her and backing away. “You told me to go away. I’m going.” Turning, she ran for the house. She deserved her pound of flesh after the way Zane had scared the living daylights out of her. Leading her to believe the DNA test proved he wasn’t Hannah’s father when he hadn’t even opened the darned envelope. If he wasn’t bigger than her, she’d turn around and slug him. Well, the heck with that. Skidding to a stop, Allie whirled around and threw a punch.
Dodging her swing, Zane gave her a disgusted look and hauled her against his hard body, in the process grabbing the paper.
Allie tried to squirm away from the hammerlock grip around her waist. “I’m going to make you sorry.”
“Go ahead,” he said absently, his gaze devouring the piece of paper.
She relaxed against him. A person couldn’t have a decent fight with another person until she had his complete attention.
“I’m Hannah’s father,” Zane said softly, his voice filled with stunned disbelief. “I really am her father. Kim was lying when she said I wasn’t Hannah’s father. I am her father.”
Allie blinked moisture from her eyes. “I told you so.” Trying to sound smug, she failed utterly.
“Hannah’s my daughter.” He laughed. “She’s been my daughter all along.” Releasing Allie, Zane took off his hat and tossed it high in the air. “My daughter!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. Dancing like a maniac across the yard, he kept yelling, “Mine, mine, mine!” Blindly colliding with the corral, Zane turned his back to Allie and wrapped his hands around the nearest post. His shoulders shook silently.
