by Helen Lacey
“And you’re right,” Wyatt said quietly and tried to ignore the pain of Fiona’s expression and the confusion on his niece’s face. “But it wasn’t about you. It wasn’t anything to do with you. So nothing has changed for you, Cecily. Fiona and I are both here for you. That’s all that matters.”
“You were talking about my folks,” Cecily said. “I heard. And I know what Dad did.”
Did she? Wyatt wondered if she knew everything. If she knew the role he’d played in the whole sordid mess. Karen had blamed him often enough. When Wyatt had suggested that she and her husband take some time out to get their relationship back on track and see if they could make their marriage work, he hadn’t imagined it would be the last time they’d speak.
“They loved you. Your dad loved you. Don’t worry about anything else.”
His niece shrugged and stepped back, away from Fiona, away from him. “I thought things would work out,” Cecily said shakily. “This morning you guys were... Well, I thought we’d all be together and happy.”
“Cecily,” he said gently, “Fiona and I are friends and we’ll do our best to remain friends. But relationships can be complex.”
“I’ve already had the adult-relationships-are-complicated speech from her,” she said and pointed a finger in Fiona’s direction. “If it’s so complicated, why did you sleep together in the first place?”
Wyatt saw Fiona turn pale and fought the urge to go to her. And Cecily looked as if she needed comfort, too. By chance and circumstance, they had become the most important people in his life. If Karen and Jim were alive, they would be doing this. They would be standing guard over the reunion between birth mother and daughter. And he’d be living his own life, perhaps only involved peripherally. But his sister was gone. It was his job to protect Cecily. And because he and Fiona were lovers, because they’d crossed the line from acquaintance into friendship and then into something way more intimate than he’d bargained for, he experienced a deep-rooted need to protect Fiona, as well. And knowing how important the moment was to both of the women standing in front of him, Wyatt quickly shouldered the responsibility.
“Because when you’re falling for someone that’s what people do. And sometimes guys can act like jerks when it comes to a beautiful woman.”
Cecily’s mouth opened in a rounded O.
Of all things Fiona might have expected Wyatt to say, that wasn’t one of them. She stared at him and then glanced at her daughter. Cecily’s face creased in a tiny smile.
“So, you guys are cool?”
“Yes,” he replied quietly.
Fiona was so angry with him she hurt all over. But she wouldn’t say another word in front of Cecily. She’d done enough damage to their relationship for one day.
“We’re fine,” she said flatly. “And friends, just as your uncle said.”
“Good. Fighting sucks. What if you fight and then something happens and you never see that person again?”
So young and so smart. Her daughter was a remarkable young woman. She had some serious ground to make up after allowing her personal feelings for Wyatt to blur what was really important.
Fiona looked toward Wyatt for a bare second. Because when you’re falling for someone that’s what people do. Did he mean it? Was he really falling for her? Had he guessed she’d fallen completely and hopelessly in love with him? No. Impossible. He wasn’t falling. She was nothing to him. He’d only said that to appease Cecily. More lies.
“How about you and I go and check out what Callie and Lily are doing?” She linked her arm through her daughter’s and hoped Cecily would accept her embrace.
She did, thankfully. “Great idea. Are you coming, Uncle Wyatt?”
“No, you go ahead. I want to finish talking with Lily’s dad about the school canteen project.”
Fiona managed to look at him again. “He’s going to help?”
“Looks that way,” Wyatt replied.
“He has three kids at the school, so I’m not surprised.”
Wyatt shrugged in a vague kind of way, which belied the tension radiating from him. They needed to talk and they both knew it. But now wasn’t the time or place.
“Noah has contacts in the local building industry and can assist with organizing contract labor from this end,” Wyatt said. “Your funds from Harper’s should be cleared within thirty days, so once the plans are submitted and approved through council, the project can go ahead.”
“Ooh,” Cecily said with a burst of sudden excitement. “You’ll have to come to the big Harper’s charity ball next month. Won’t she, Uncle Wyatt?”
His eyes regarded her with burning intensity. “Of course,” he replied. “In fact, it’s customary for a representative of the beneficiaries of the charity fund to attend. You could represent the school and accept your check on the night.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly—”
“It would be perfect,” Cecily said excitedly. “You could stay at Waradoon and meet Nan and Pop and my aunts and everyone else. And don’t forget Banjo. I really want you to see my horse. Please say you’ll come and stay. We can go shopping for our dresses together. It’s really fancy and so much fun.” She turned her attention to her uncle. “Make her say yes, Uncle Wyatt.”
He nodded. “You’d be welcome to attend.”
It wasn’t exactly the invitation from him she secretly craved. I really want you to come with me would have been better. Perhaps he already had a date? That thought made Fiona hurt all over. She cursed herself for being so foolish. They were finished. She was nothing to him.
“I’ll think about it,” she said, stiffer than she would have liked, and the disappointment on her daughter’s face plunged into her heart like a knife. “I promise,” she added. “Now, let’s go and see Lily.”
She steered Cecily from the room. There would be time later for recriminations. All she wanted was to enjoy the day with her daughter. And later, much later, she would think about how she would face Wyatt alone, knowing how little she meant to him and knowing he’d only said what he’d said to appease Cecily’s concerns.
And it hurt more than she’d believed possible.
* * *
Fiona hadn’t expected Cecily to want to stay the night at the Prestons’. But she and Lily had forged such a strong friendship, and Fiona didn’t have the heart to deny her daughter’s request. Wyatt didn’t look happy about it but gave in when Cecily promised to be back at the B and B early the following morning.
The drive back to her house later that evening was thick with tension. She managed to avoid him for most of the afternoon and didn’t say anything until Wyatt pulled the car into her driveway.
She grabbed her handbag and moved to open the door. “Well, thank you for the lift. Can you tell Cecily that I’ll call her—”
“Fiona?”
She stopped moving when he spoke her name. “What?”
He expelled a sharp breath. “We need to talk, either now or later. I’d prefer now. I’d like an opportunity to explain my reasons for keeping my family’s business private.”
She knew why. She didn’t need to hear it again. Because I’m nothing to you.
“Okay,” she said as she opened the door. “Let’s talk.”
Minutes later they were inside. Fiona gave Muffin a moment’s attention when the little dog bounded toward her, then she dropped her bags on the hall stand and headed for the living room. She heard Wyatt close the front door, and she was seated on the sofa by the time he’d traced her steps.
He remained standing, his shoulders tight and expression unreadable. “I didn’t lie to you,” he said quietly. “The fact is I didn’t tell you about Karen and Jim’s marriage problems because I didn’t think it had any bearing on your relationship with Cecily.”
Fiona drew in a breath. “You know, I’m not so naiv
e I’d actually believe that hogwash.”
He made an irritated sound. “So you’re determined to think I did it deliberately?”
She nodded. “I think you did it because it was easier to keep me in the dark. It was easier to let me believe they were perfect.”
“No one’s perfect.”
She shot up. “No? Well, you never gave me a chance, did you? Right from the beginning, from the moment we met and you told me about Cecily, I’ve been busting my behind trying to prove that I’m good enough...that I deserve to be a part of Cecily’s life.”
“I’ve never once asked you to aim for some perfect standard. In fact, I recall saying that Karen and Jim were not perfect.”
“You didn’t have to say anything either way,” she snapped back. “It’s been made clear to me that they were the faultless parents who loved Cecily. You made me believe they were flawless and as though I didn’t have a hope of competing with that. So I tried to be myself...my very obviously flawed self and hoped that was enough.”
“It is enough. Cecily is already attached to you.”
“Because her perfect parents are gone. Don’t you think I get that? If Karen were here, my relationship with Cecily would be very different.”
Wyatt’s gaze sharpened instantly. “What do you expect? She lost her mother. She’s looking for that connection again.”
“I know that. I know what she wants and I’m trying so hard to give it to her. But if I’d known I might have been doing this on an even playing field, I could have, I don’t know, worked out a way to not seem so desperate to make it work out. But I haven’t. I’m the screwup who gave her away, and I’ll always be that person.”
“You’re not a screwup, Fiona.”
“I am,” she shot back. “I gave her up. I handed her over to strangers. I abandoned her. And I know, in her heart, a part of Cecily is always going to think that. She’s always going to know they wanted her and I didn’t.”
“You can’t change the past. Believe me, I know that. And I know my niece. She’s grateful to have you in her life. You want to hear than Karen and Jim weren’t perfect, that their marriage was busted and they were on the verge of splitting? Sure, I can tell you that. I can tell you Jim slept with another woman and it broke my sister’s heart. So, now you know, does it change anything about your relationship with Cecily? I don’t think so. Unless you want to keep using it as an excuse to hide behind.”
Fiona’s skin prickled. “What?”
“An excuse,” he said again. “In case you mess up with Cecily. It’s an easy out for you, isn’t it?”
“That’s not fair. I’ve never—”
“Oh, come on, Fiona, you’ve got that blueprint down pat. I’ve read the report, remember? The moves from one town to the next, short stints as a contract teacher, a few brief relationships with men you never see again once the relationship fizzles out. You can’t hide from the truth when it’s written in black-and-white.”
Anger and humiliation crept over her skin. “Black-and-white?” she echoed, incredulous and so fired up she almost lunged at him and smacked his face. “You knew? I mean, you know about—”
“The accountant? The truck driver? The real-estate salesman?”
Put that way, it sounded like a long list, and shame filled her blood. “I was in a committed relationship with each of...” She paused, regrouped, tried to say the words without making herself feel cheap and indiscriminate. “What I meant is that I knew each of those men for well over six months before we moved our relationship to the next level. I’ve only once ever jumped into an intimate relationship without really knowing the person.”
“You mean with Cecily’s father?”
“I mean with you.” Fiona pushed back her shoulders as the truth tumbled from her lips and she didn’t care that he looked annoyed by her admission. “Actually, I didn’t have a relationship with him at all.”
Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “Then what was it? A one-night stand?”
Fiona’s skin burned, and she felt as though her body were suddenly moving in exaggerated slow motion. If only it had been a one-night stand. As the color drained from her face, Fiona knew Wyatt was intensely aware of her altering demeanor. He was a smart guy. The truth teetered on her lips and she swallowed hard. “It was...it was...”
His expression changed quickly. She watched, both fascinated and mortified, as he worked out that something wasn’t quite right. A familiar deep-rooted shame washed across her skin.
“Fiona?”
She turned away from the soft sound of his voice. After a few deep breaths, she found her voice. “Jamie Corbett.”
“What?”
“That’s what you wanted to know, isn’t it?” she said and wrapped her arms across her chest. “You wanted his name. Now you have it.”
“Corbett?” She heard the query in his voice. “Why does that sound so—”
“Familiar?” Fiona said on a shaky breath. “It would be if you read the report on my mother’s death.”
“I did,” Wyatt replied steadily. “She was killed in a train-crossing accident alongside her twenty-two-year-old...” He stopped and took a few seconds. “Jamie Corbett was your mother’s lover?”
Fiona shuddered. An image, like a speedy camera in reverse, flashed through her mind, and the memories leached into her skull. Shayne had gone out looking to score. Fiona was left alone in the grimy motel room they occupied with the young cowboy her mother had picked up in a bar a month earlier. He’d seemed friendly at first. So she’d smiled and crossed her legs as she sat propped up on the single bed she occupied. He’d joined her on the bed to play cards and they’d laughed together. She’d liked the attention, liked how he told her she was pretty and would grow up to be a real heartbreaker one day. He’d touched her ankle at first. Then her leg. When she’d pulled away, he’d grabbed her harder. Although still a virgin, Fiona had known enough about sex to realize what was about to happen.
“Fiona?” Wyatt’s voice pulled her back into the present. “Are you saying that Corbett is Cecily’s father?”
Emotion clutched her throat. “Yes.”
He said her name softly. “Would you turn around?”
She did as he asked slowly, still holding her arms tightly around her chest. She could barely hold contact with his eyes. She focused on the tiny pulse in his cheek beating rapidly. She knew he was thinking, imagining and probably working her out.
But he didn’t speak straightaway. When she did meet his gaze, there was a somber realization in his blue eyes. “Fiona, what did he do to you?”
Fiona closed her eyes for a moment and sucked in a breath. She hadn’t said the words out loud since telling her mother she was pregnant a couple of months later. And Shayne hadn’t believed her. Instead, Fiona had been accused of trying to run interference in her mother’s relationship with Jamie Corbett and she’d been quickly shipped off to her uncle.
The words clawed at her throat and she swallowed hard. “He took... He was...”
As her admission trailed off, silence stretched between them like brittle elastic. Finally, Wyatt spoke again. “Fiona, did he rape you?”
She shook her head and then nodded. “It was... Yes...I suppose...”
“Suppose?”
“Well,” she managed to reply despite the hard lump in her throat, “I said no.”
“And?”
Fiona didn’t miss his quiet control and took a few moments before she replied. “And he said I’d asked for it. Said I wanted it. He said a lot of things.” She dropped her arms and sat on the sofa. “Maybe in a way I did ask for it. I don’t know what to think anymore. Shayne had left us alone in the motel room. I guess I was flattered at first... He paid me some attention, and with my mother the way she was, I was starved for it, if that makes sense.”
It did make s
ense. But Wyatt could barely think straight as he absorbed what she was telling him. He pushed the building rage back down and tried to concentrate. “What did you do...after?”
She shrugged and looked so small and vulnerable, so alone, Wyatt had to force himself to remain where he was and not take her in his arms and offer her the comfort he suspected she desperately needed.
“My mother didn’t believe me,” she said softly. “When I found out I was pregnant, she accused me of trying to come between them. The next day I was sent to my uncle.”
Wyatt clenched his fists. “You didn’t press charges? You didn’t make him—”
“I was fifteen,” she said and drew in a heavy breath. “And afraid.”
Rationally, and in that part of him that was civilized and logical, Wyatt understood. But that other part, the one that was fuelled by a powerful and instinctive urge to protect her, wanted to grind Corbett into the ground.
“And you’ve never told anyone what happened?”
She shook her head. “No. They were killed three weeks after I went to live with my uncle. Telling wouldn’t have changed what happened. Once Cecily was born, I didn’t have a chance to think about anything other than how I had to give my baby away.”
Wyatt’s insides tightened into knots and he experienced a deep-rooted pain behind his ribs. There were so many people who should have been held accountable for what had happened to her—certainly the lowlife who had brutalized her and the mother who hadn’t given a damn. There was the great-uncle, too...and even Karen, who had insisted on a closed adoption, knowing full well that Cecily’s birth mother was only fifteen.
“You were let down badly by your family,” he said, more statement than question.
She shrugged. “I guess I’ve never really had a family. Now, because of Cecily, for the first time in my life I feel like I have a chance to have one. And I don’t want to do anything to ruin that chance. We jumped into bed together after only a week. We gave in to the attraction, but at the end of the day it’s just sex. And sex isn’t enough to sustain a relationship, not even great sex.” She sighed heavily. “Let’s face it, if it was something more, you would have trusted me enough to tell me about your sister’s marriage being in trouble, right?”
