The Housekeeper's Daughter

by Laurie Paige

  “I know Emily is okay. I talked to Rand yesterday.”

  Maya gasped. “Has she been in contact with Rand?”

  Drake didn’t answer right away. Maya felt the hurt of his distrust in sharing information with her and her mother for an instant before he decided to tell them the truth.

  “She called him,” Drake admitted. “Rand asked Austin McGrath to check into things.”

  “Then…then you believe Emily’s story about the two Merediths?” Inez asked, her manner also hesitant.

  “Do you?” he challenged.

  Maya glanced from one to the other, aware that both knew more than she did about the strange events on the ranch during the past few months. She’d been caught up in her own troubles, not to mention the shock of being pregnant.

  Her mother thought carefully before answering. “A person can change over time, I suppose, but…” She didn’t continue, but looked troubled by her musings.

  “But Mother changed too much,” he concluded.

  “Perhaps, but who knows another’s heart?”

  Maya considered the implications of his questions and Emily’s belief she’d seen two Merediths for a brief spell after the car accident years ago. Finally she said, “This person…she would have to be a twin to successfully take another’s place for so long, wouldn’t she? I mean, how could she fool everyone, including her own husband and children, without a close connection?”

  “There was a twin. That’s the news Thaddeus brought us yesterday. Mother admits to having one, but she has a letter that also claims the twin died long ago.”

  The shock of this information reverberated through Maya. Ms. Meredith had actually had a twin? It was mind-boggling, to say the least. “No one knew about her?”

  “No.”

  “That must make things even more confusing,” Inez said, her manner one of sympathy.

  Maya wasn’t sure what she felt. She couldn’t imagine a husband not recognizing his wife or children somehow not knowing their mother wasn’t the true one.

  “It’s damn strange,” Drake conceded. His gaze flicked to her again. “Another mystery to be solved, it seems.”

  Maya bit back a retort about there being no mystery between them. That he could think for a minute the baby might not be his after their time together was an insult beyond forgiving. It spoke to her of his reluctance to accept any part of her and the child. He didn’t want it to be his.

  She breathed carefully, deeply, until the hurt of that fact receded. Laying a hand on her tummy, she assured the baby that she wanted her. Drake laid his hand over hers, startling her.

  His gaze held a haunted quality, as if he asked her forgiveness. She looked away.

  They arrived in town and went in different directions. Maya did her shopping, then met her mother at the grocery to help her carry the ranch staples out. Drake was there, already helping, his manner easy as he chatted with the housekeeper.

  She had to admit he had never acted as if her parents were less than wonderful and an equal to the Coltons in every way. There was some comfort in that. And in the fact that he hadn’t been inebriated the previous night. She would never put up with a man with vile habits.

  Not that she would have to put up with anything from him. It would never come to marriage between them. He would have to go back to his dangerous career soon, then he could forget her and the baby, knowing he’d come home and offered to do the honorable thing.

  Ignoring the dark mood, she sighed and pressed her hands to her back. If she got through this month and the one after, then she would get her life on track and…all would be well.

  She fought the harsh sting of tears that threatened to overcome her. One thing she would be glad to get rid of was this ridiculous urge to cry at the least little thing.

  “Ride with me,” Drake requested, materializing beside her while she stood lost in her thoughts.

  “I have to get back. I’ve got a test coming up.”

  “We’ll go straight to the ranch,” he promised.

  Before she could think of a good excuse, her mother got in the ranch wagon and drove off, leaving them standing in the parking lot. “It seems I have no choice,” she said.

  “Don’t be angry with your mother. I told her I would bring you. I want to talk—”

  “I have nothing to say.” She gathered her ragged composure around her, forming a wall to ward off any softer feelings that would overcome her better judgment.

  “Then you can listen.”

  Looking grim as death, he took her arm and led her to the truck. There, he helped her inside by lifting her with hands at her waist, his touch as gentle as possible. Again the need to weep overcame her. She stared straight ahead while he drove out of town.

  “I talked to your father,” he said after a mile of silence. “I gave him a copy of my will so it will be handy if anything happens to me.”

  The idea caused such a pang in her heart she had to wrap her arms across her chest to contain the hurt. “Nothing will,” she said hoarsely. “You’re careful.”

  He laughed without humor. “I wasn’t very careful with you,” he reminded her.

  She had no retort for that.

  “Maya, I know the baby is mine,” he said quite gently.

  “How? I was dating someone else when you came home last summer. There may have been a whole parade of men through my life, for all you know.”

  “Maybe, but you were a virgin the first time we made love.”

  “You can’t know that for sure.”

  “I know inexperience when I see it. You hadn’t the foggiest notion of how to proceed.”

  Her face flamed at the knowing look in the glance he gave her before turning his eyes back to the road. She had put that knowledge there and nothing she could do would dispel it.

  He turned in at the ranch drive and slowed almost to a crawl before going off the road and parking among the bay trees and willow shrubs beside the seasonal creek.

  “You were trembling,” he continued, turning to her and laying an arm on the back of the seat. “So was I.”

  She flashed him a quelling look which did nothing to shut him up. She hated remembering how gullible she’d been.

  “I’d never made love before—”

  “Oh, right,” she scoffed, ignoring the note of wonder and longing in his tone that jarred right to the center of her being. She wouldn’t be so foolish as to fall under his spell again.

  “I’d had sex,” he said in a harsher tone, “but not…not what we shared.”

  Maya clenched her hands together. “Don’t. You don’t have to say that.”

  “I think I do,” he murmured. “I hurt you when I asked about the baby. I knew it was mine. I just needed to hear you say it. Men sometimes need assurance, you know.”

  She shook her head.

  He ignored it. “I’m not surprised we produced a child. What we shared was too strong not to have lasting results. I’m not sorry, either, except for the shame—”

  She rounded on him in fury. “Getting pregnant by the son of the house may be one of the oldest clichés in the book, but I’m not ashamed! I may be the housekeeper’s daughter, but what I did, I did for—”

  “For love,” he finished when she stopped abruptly, appalled at nearly giving herself away so completely.

  “It was madness,” she said stubbornly. “Moonlight and madness. That was all.”

  His gaze told her he knew better. “I seem to be saying this all wrong, but I wanted you to know I plan to take care of my own. This baby is mine. I intend to see that she never needs for anything.”

  The fierce pain that had taken up residence inside her since reading his note of farewell eased somewhat. She nodded stiffly.

  “And don’t ever bring up the fact that your mother is the housekeeper again,” he added with a warning frown. “It has never played a part in our relationship. As far as I’m concerned, it never will.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I said that. It was hateful.”

/>   He grinned, surprising her. His fingers touched her shoulders and rested there. “Well, we’re making progress, it seems. Perhaps we should stop while we’re ahead.” Still smiling he started the truck and turned around.

  At the house, Maya left Drake and hurried to her room where she flipped on the computer. She felt the weight of her studies and responsibilities as she edited a paper and sent it via the Internet to her teacher at the university in San Francisco. Taking her textbook with her, she went out to the vacant sunroom and read the assigned chapter, then made notes and laid the book down.

  Moving the chair to the recliner position, she closed her eyes and fell into a light slumber.

  That was where Drake found Maya when he came inside shortly before three. He took a seat in a comfortable padded chair and sipped the fresh coffee Inez had made, his gaze ever drawn to the woman who slept with a slight frown on her face, as if her dreams troubled her.

  He knew about dreams. Of late, his were all mixed up with babies and cars that came careening around curves, running over women and children without pause. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had prompted them.

  Coward. He grimly acknowledged this fact. It took less courage to face an enemy’s gun than it took to face this woman and her demand that he find his soul, then share his heart. The dark place hammered inside him like a demon demanding its due as he admitted this fact.

  Stretching out on the sofa, he wondered what marriage would be like. Coming home to Maya every night. Holding her. Making love. Sharing the tenderness and TLC she bestowed on his younger brothers…

  Maya woke with a start and glanced wildly around the room. Drake opened his eyes and sat up. She realized he’d been asleep on the sofa while she slept in the recliner.

  “Maya!” Teddy yelled again.

  “In here,” she called in a softer voice, rising.

  The two boys rushed into the sunroom. “Hi, Drake. Say, can we try roping again?” Joe Junior asked.

  “Not today,” Maya cut in before Drake could answer. “I think you have something for me.”

  Teddy handed over his report card willingly, but the older boy had a hard time finding his in his book bag. When Maya saw it, she understood why.

  “Oh, Joe,” she said.

  He hung his head. “I sort of didn’t do so good on the math exam. I, uh, got mixed up on percents.”

  Maya’s stomach went through the falling-elevator syndrome. Ms. Meredith was going to be furious when she saw the C minus on Joe’s report card for the six-week period. Nothing but As were acceptable, a B at the very least.

  “We’ll go over the test questions,” she said to her young charge. “Did you bring the paper home?”

  “Yes. Uh, I guess we’d better go change clothes and do some studying now.”

  “I think that would be an excellent idea.”

  “Can I stay with Drake?” Teddy asked.

  “You’d better go with your brother,” Drake said. “I have other things to do now. We’ll work on your roping this weekend. If that’s okay with Maya.”

  Before she could answer, Maya heard footsteps in the hall. Her heart did its falling act again. “Are the boys home?” Ms. Meredith said, coming into the room.

  Her eyes lit up on seeing her youngest sons. She held out her arms. “Come give me a kiss, or are you too big to be kind to your mother?”

  Maya stayed silent while the boys dutifully kissed their mother on each cheek, then reported on their day.

  “Isn’t this report card day?” Meredith asked.

  Joe and Teddy edged toward the hallway, hoping for the sanctuary of their rooms before the revealing of grades.

  “You boys go change while I speak to your nanny,” their mother said, taking a seat and holding out her hand.

  With relieved looks, they raced off while Maya handed over the teachers’ reports. She steeled herself while her employer studied the grades.

  “What is that?” Meredith demanded. “What is this grade in math?”

  “Joe says he got mixed up on the percentage problems. We’ll go over them this weekend—”

  Meredith slapped the reports on the coffee table.

  “I pay you to see that they do their lessons and understand them properly.”

  “I’m sorry,” Maya answered carefully, keeping her tone neutral. “We’ll go over the problems—”

  “I told Joe hiring someone without any training or skills was a mistake, but he insisted on it because you needed the money, as if we don’t pay your parents enough—”

  “Mother,” Drake broke into the tirade, “I’m sure each person on the ranch earns his or her own salary. Maya has helped with the boys since she was hardly more than a girl herself. Overall, I’d say she’s done an excellent job.”

  Meredith rounded on her second son, her demeanor icily forbidding. “Are you an expert in child care? I didn’t know the SEALs taught that as well as other abilities.”

  Her gaze went disdainfully to Maya’s rounded figure. Embarrassment spread through Maya at the obvious reference. She glanced at Drake, who studied his mother with frigid intensity, the small scar on his chin white with fury.

  Startled, she realized how much alike the two were. Both had light brown hair with golden highlights, Meredith’s enhanced by an artful hair stylist. Their eyes were an identical brown, both with flecks that gleamed like molten gold when the light hit them just right.

  And now, in their anger, they both displayed the same fury, the same icy control. Chills ran along Maya’s scalp.

  “Once I learned kindness,” he said softly, “from a woman I admired a great deal. Once.”

  Hatred seemed to blaze from his mother’s eyes, then it was gone before Maya was certain she saw it.

  “The world would be a better place if there was more kindness, wouldn’t it?” she said, her voice filled with mockery, then she left the room, the click of her heels sounding smartly on the marble tiles in the foyer as she left the house.

  “I’d better see about the boys,” Maya said and rushed for the hall to the north wing of the sprawling house.

  Drake took two steps and caught her arm. “I’m sorry,” he said, his manner gentle.

  “For what?” His touch soothed the insult of his mother’s words. She wanted to lean against him and let him comfort her. Only she was pretty sure where that would lead. More and more, she wanted to accept the passion that bloomed between them. It was madness.

  His smile was sad, sort of ironic. “I’m not sure. For Mother, I suppose, and her attitude.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m used to it. I mean…I don’t think she means to be unkind. She’s just concerned about the boys.”

  He dropped his hand, leaving a cold place on her arm. “I won’t stand by and see our child hurt by careless words, no matter who they come from.”

  “You shouldn’t quarrel with your family because of me,” she said, filled with concern. “Family is important.”

  “Marissa is my family now.”

  The solid declaration threw her off balance. Staring into his eyes, she saw the darkness, but there was also a tender element—his care for their unborn child.

  Quickly, before she lost her head completely, she rushed from the room and down the hall to check on her two young charges…and to give her heart a chance to settle down before she did something incredibly stupid, like fling herself into Drake’s arms and beg to stay there. At that moment, she would have agreed to marriage and anything else he suggested.

  However, one of them had to be practical, she reminded herself later that night after the boys were asleep and she did her usual pacing until her back eased enough for sleep. But it was hard, so hard, when all she wanted was his arms, holding her safe in a world she no longer trusted.

  In Mississippi, the woman who now called herself Louise Smith but apparently had been known as Patsy Portman in the past, woke with a start. Overhead, the thunder rolled again. She flung herself out of bed and pulled on a warm robe as the
chill of the February night and the storm roiled around her. Going to the door, she opened it and stared into the dark.

  She realized it had all been a dream, the recurring nightmare in which she heard a child cry out for help.

  Shaken at the realness of the dream, she locked the door and sank into a nearby chair.

  Who are you?

  She’d asked the question before and as usual, she never found an answer in the swirling fog of her mind. She only knew there was a child somewhere, one she’d let down in some way she couldn’t remember, just as there was a dark man in her past and a fountain and an indescribable joy.

  Burying her face in her hands, she wept, her heart in pieces. “I can’t take it anymore,” she whispered. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

  She repeated the words the next day to Martha Wilkes, who had become her friend as well as her psychologist while trying to help her regain her memory. Martha was a lovely black woman who had worked her way out of poverty and whose quiet perseverance was an inspiration to Louise.

  “Then let it go,” Martha advised.

  Louise frowned at the other woman. “Just like that?”

  “Yes. Sometimes the mind needs a rest. I think you’ve reached that point. I’ve found patients sometimes remember everything after they’ve given themselves permission to ease up. It might work for you.”

  “It bothers me that someone might be in trouble, that they might need me,” Louise said. “Last night, the dream was different. The girl was older, a woman now, but still afraid of something. Or somebody.”

  Martha nodded. “Your mind could be adjusting for the years that have passed since the last time you saw her.”

  “I think the girl is mine. Sometimes I can see her so clearly. She has red hair, blue eyes and dimples. I think she called me ‘mommy’ in one of the dreams.”

  “And the dark man?”

  Louise shook her head sadly. “I don’t know, but there’s this great peace and joy when he appears. And there’s this wonderful place with a fountain and sunshine and the most beautiful garden. My own version of paradise, I suppose,” she finished with a laugh that echoed the sadness in her heart.

  “Give it a rest,” Martha reiterated.