From Megan Maitland’s Diary

Dear Diary,

Where to begin? So much has happened and my heart is so full. I’m finally allowed to proclaim to the world at large that Connor is my son, my own firstborn. Having him here with me is like an incredible Christmas gift to be unwrapped each and every morning!

I don’t blame my father for what he did. An unmarried young girl with a baby was doomed to a terrible life back then. I’m so glad times have changed. And so very glad to discover that not only have I regained a son, but I’ve gained a grandson as well. My heart is filled to bursting! I even forgive the woman who perpetrated the hoax that would have only further separated me from Connor. After all, it didn’t work, thank God.

It’s been a very, very good year. It didn’t seem so at the beginning, but it turned out far better than I could have ever dreamed. Which leads me to speculate about the year to come. Who knows what happiness is waiting just around the corner?

Dear Reader,

There’s never a dull moment at Maitland Maternity! This unique and now world-renowned clinic was founded twenty-five years ago by Megan Maitland, widow of William Maitland, of the prominent Austin, Texas, Maitlands. Megan is also matriarch of an impressive family of seven children, many of whom are active participants in the everyday miracles that bring children into the world.

When our series began, the family was stunned by the unexpected arrival of an unidentified baby at the clinic—unidentified, except for the claim that the child is a Maitland. Who are the parents of this child? Is the claim legitimate? Will the media’s tenacious grip on this news damage the clinic’s reputation? Suddenly, rumors and counterclaims abound. Women claiming to be the child’s mother materialize out of the woodwork! How will Megan get at the truth? And how will the media circus affect the lives and loves of the Maitland children—Abby, the head of gynecology, Ellie, the hospital administrator, her twin sister, Beth, who runs the day care center, Mitchell, the fertility specialist, R.J., the vice president of operations—even Anna, who has nothing to do with the clinic, and Jake, the black sheep of the family?

We’re thrilled to bring you the long-awaited culmination to Connor Maitland’s story and to offer the solution to the mystery of the Maitland baby in A Dad at Last!

Marsha Zinberg,

Senior Editor and Editorial Co-ordinator, Special Projects

A Dad at Last
Marie Ferrarella

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Prolific romance author Marie Ferrarella claims, “I was born writing, which must have made the delivery especially difficult for my mother!” Born in West Germany of Polish parents, she came to America when she was four years of age. For an entire year, Marie and her family explored the eastern half of the country before finally settling in New York. It was there, at the age of fourteen, that she met the man she would marry, her first true love, Charles Ferrarella.

During her days at Queens College, acting started to lose its glamour as Marie spent more and more time writing. After receiving her English degree, specializing in Shakespearean comedy, Marie and her family moved to Southern California, where she still resides today. After an interminable seven weeks apart, Charles decided he couldn’t live without her, and came out to California to marry his childhood sweetheart. Marie, who has written over one hundred novels, wrote both the introduction and conclusion to Connor Maitland’s miraculous reunion with his family and was delighted to participate in the Maitland family saga. She keeps her fingers crossed that her many fans enjoy reading her books as much as she enjoys writing them.

To Marsha Zinberg,

with thanks for a great time.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

THE MOONLIGHT surrounded Connor O’Hara like a cold shroud as he picked his way slowly beside the isolated train tracks.

Funny how things turned out sometimes.

He’d only just found out he had a son, and now that little boy’s life depended on a group of men he hadn’t met until a few months ago. Men who were at this moment laying their own lives on the line, shielded only by the inky cloak of night and their bravery as they crept toward the abandoned sugar factory ahead, where he’d been told to meet Chase’s kidnappers.

It was asking a lot, yet they had volunteered without a single word from him.

The door to the sugar factory opened. A small ball of light, thanks to a lantern, illuminated the players for Connor.

Janelle Davis, the epitome of confidence, sauntered ahead of the man who accompanied her. In her arms was Connor’s son.

Even in the poor light, Connor could see her eyes glinting as they washed over him. She fairly glowed with triumph.

The humor that twisted her mouth was cynical. “So you came. I knew you would.” She glanced at the child in her arms. “For the brat.”

Connor had never felt hatred like this before. It clogged his throat like thick bile, almost choking him. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the woman who’d stolen his child and done heaven only knew what else. She was standing beside the tall, rugged-looking man who’d been impersonating Connor for the past few months. Petey gave no indication of being the puppet she had, with her wiles, forced him to be.

Hatred mingled with fear, fear for the child she held in her arms, the child Connor knew she could, without compunction, kill in an instant. Destroying Chase as if he were nothing more than a rag doll, a prop to further her goal.

He stalled for time. Positions had to be reached. A single word emerged from his lips as his eyes nailed her where she stood.

“Why?”

Janelle shrugged a slim, careless shoulder. Her eyes told him she was enjoying this a great deal. She liked having the upper hand.

“Not all of us are born rich.” The smile turned cruel. “A girl’s gotta look out for herself.”

Her hold on the baby tightened, and her eyes slid to the suitcase Connor held in his hand as Chase whimpered. “You have the money?”

He raised the case. “Right here.”

Her sharp eyes looked around. There were no cars in the area save the one Connor had parked in the distance. Just the way she’d told him. “And you’re alone.”

His expression never changed. Neither did the loathing he knew was in his eyes. “Those were your instructions.”

She laughed shortly, toying with him, ignoring her husband Petey’s growing agitation. “Too bad you couldn’t have stayed back at your ranch, Connor. Would have saved us both a lot of time and grief.” The smile vanished. She was all business. “Take the suitcase, Petey.”

But Connor held the case back as Petey reached for it. “Give me my son.”

“Paternal affection. How touching,” she mocked. “Maybe we should have asked for more than five million, Petey. Looks like the daddy of the year would have been willing to fork it over.”

Connor knew he had to get Chase away from Janelle. The plan couldn’t go forward as long as the baby was in danger.

Tired, anxious, Petey looked at his wife. What was she trying to do? They had what they came for within their reach. Why was she playing games? “Damn it, Janelle, just give him the kid.”

The exasperated look on her face cut him dead. It told him what a fool she thought he was. “Take the case first, you idiot.”

Connor handed the suitcase to Petey.

Eagerness replaced anger. Petey dropped to the ground, placing the suitcase before him. Hands shaking, he opened it. Cross words were forgotten as he looked over his shoulder at Janelle. “It’s here. You were right. It’s all here.”

Janelle stepped forward to see for herself. The suitcase was filled with neat stacks of carefully bound bills, all facing in the same direction. “We won’t know if it’s all there until we count it.”

“It’s all there,” Connor told her through tight lips. “I wouldn’t endanger the life of my son.”

Her expression was smug. “No, you wouldn’t. All right, close the case and get on your feet, Petey.” He did as she ordered. “Aim the gun at his belly. Anything goes wrong, shoot him and then the baby.”

With a mocking smile on her lips, she handed Connor his son.

Taking Chase into his arms, he had no time to wonder at this newfound fatherhood or unwrap and examine any of the emotions that were sweeping over him as he felt the weight of his son in his arms for the very first time.

It was now or never.

Moving swiftly, Connor pushed Janelle out of his way and ducked into the protective shelter of the sugar factory.

In the background, the sound of shouting was followed by a single exchange of gunfire.

CHAPTER ONE

“IF YOU KNOT those fingers together any tighter, we’re going to have to call in one of the doctors from the hospital to surgically untangle them.”

Startled, lost in her thoughts, Lacy Clark looked up to see Megan Maitland standing beside her in the living room, smiling compassionately at her. She hadn’t heard the older woman approach.

Self-consciously, Lacy realized that she’d been knotting and unknotting her hands, an outward sign of the inner turmoil that had been going on for what seemed like half an eternity. Ever since Connor and the others had left to meet the kidnappers.

She’d pleaded to go with them so she could see what was happening firsthand instead of having her imagination run riot. But Connor had insisted that having her there would put them all at risk, so she’d agreed to stay behind, dying a little more with each tick of the grandfather clock in the hall.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

Lacy dropped her hands to her sides. Her fingers might no longer be tangled, but that didn’t relieve the knot in her stomach. She couldn’t stand being in the dark like this anymore. She’d been in the dark for so long now, about so many things, this added uncertainty was almost intolerable.

Where were they? Where was her son?

Pressing her lips together, she looked toward the door. Her whole world was out there somewhere, beyond her reach. Beyond her ability to do anything about it. Somewhere, lost in the night, was the baby who had been missing from her life these past eleven months while she’d wandered through a haze of amnesia, thanks to Janelle. The baby who could very well continue to be missing forever if Connor and the others didn’t succeed with their plan.

What would she do if she never saw Chase again? Her heart felt as if it was twisting around in her chest.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry about.” Megan gave Lacy’s hand a warm squeeze, knowing what the young mother must be going through. “They’ll bring him back to you, I promise.”

They’d set up vigil here in the Maitland house, Megan, her daughter Abby, her daughter-in-law Camille, Shelby Lord and Lacy, to wait for the men who had gone to retrieve that one small, lost child and bring him safely back.

To bring back the grandson Megan hadn’t found a way to acknowledge yet. Not without upsetting life as everyone here knew it. A life that had already suffered so many storms, so many onslaughts these last few months. It seemed almost more than one family could endure.

But they would. That was what made them strong and made them Maitlands.

“And if that scum manages to escape somehow,” Abby said to Lacy as she came up on her other side, “there isn’t a rock in this state big enough for Janelle and Petey to crawl under. We’ll find them, Lacy. I promise.” She added her vow to her mother’s.

Shelby joined the tight group, her indignation at the kidnapping riding another fresh wave. Both her brothers, Michael and Garrett, were with Connor tonight. She laid one hand on Lacy’s shoulder and one on Abby’s. “Hell, with our combined resources and efforts, we could find a red ant in a mile-wide strawberry patch. One bitch, her henchman and a baby shouldn’t be any problem.”

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Camille softly warned them. She looked at Lacy. “There isn’t any reason to believe that Jake, Connor and the others haven’t been successful.”

Lacy knew what they were trying to do and she was grateful to all of them. But it still didn’t quell the uneasiness she felt. The uneasiness that continued to grow.

“If they’ve been successful, why haven’t they called?” She heard herself demanding.

Strong, terse, the voice hardly seemed to belong to her. But she’d been through a great deal these past few months.

This last year and then some, she amended mentally. She’d had Connor’s baby in secret, only to be forced to leave him on the doorstep of Maitland Maternity Clinic for his own good. And she’d lost eleven months out of her life when Janelle had assaulted her in that alley behind the hospital, leaving her for dead. Leaving her to wander through the misty, cottony world of amnesia when she came to, with no knowledge of herself or the child she’d left unguarded.

Lacy looked accusingly at the silent telephone on the coffee table. “Why isn’t the phone ringing right now?” It didn’t seem like an unreasonable request. “There’re five of them. One of them’s got to have a cell phone—or change for a public phone.” She knew the answer to her own question. “They’re not calling because something went wrong.”

Watching Lacy, sharing her agony, Megan felt her heart contract.

She’d been like that once, Megan thought. Forty-six years ago, pregnant, unmarried and deserted by her baby’s father, she’d been just like Lacy. Scared, frightened and not knowing where to turn. So she had turned inward and somehow found the will to go on. Like Lacy, she would have kept her baby once he was born. But unlike Lacy, someone she’d trusted with all her heart had taken her baby from her at the moment of birth and lied to her. A lie that would come back to haunt her.

Her father had told her that the son she’d had as a result of a young, impetuous romantic interlude with Clyde Mitchum had been stillborn. After she’d cried an ocean of tears, she’d pulled herself together and found the strength to continue. Not just continue but eventually win the heart of William Maitland and, with him, forge a dynasty of her own.

Now that wonderful family she and her late husband had created were there to offer their support to her whenever she needed them.

Megan couldn’t help wondering how far that support could be stretched. Once they knew Connor was not her long-estranged nephew but rather her long-lost son, would that support break down? Or would it rally and grow stronger still for the adversity the situation represented?

She could only pray for the latter. One way or another, she would have her answer soon enough.

But right now, it was her grandson she was concerned about. Her grandson who had to be rescued and brought back to the fold. The details and explanations could be handled later. First things first.

She slipped an arm around Lacy’s thin shoulders, feeling as if, in a way, she was somehow stepping into the past and comforting herself.

“There are dozens of reasons they haven’t called, Lacy, and none of them are bad.” A slight smile curved her lips. “And no matter what the television commercials would have us believe, not everyone carries around a cell phone in their hip pocket.”

“And even if they did,” Shelby interjected, “it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s working. Garrett can’t remember to charge the one I gave him to save his life. Says it’s a nuisance.”

Lacy sighed, praying they were right. That it was just a matter of not taking the time or finding the opportunity to call. Maybe they were, even now, on their way home. Home with her son.

But she couldn’t calm down.

The agitation was growing steadily, threatening to consume her. “Well, right now it’s a nuisance I really wish he’d put up with.” She could only hope that didn’t come out as short as it sounded. Lacy knew that Connor didn’t own a cell phone, but that shouldn’t have prevented him from finding a way to call.

She looked at the telephone again, willing it to ring. It remained silent.

He wasn’t calling because something horrible had happened. She just knew it.

Unable to remain still, she began to pace again, her eyes all but riveted to the front door with every step she took. Why weren’t they back yet? The meeting was for midnight. It was past two.

Unable to remain on the sidelines any longer, Shelby checked her pockets for her car keys. “Maybe I’ll just take a ride up to the sugar factory to see if everything went the way it should have.”

Megan instinctively took a step to block her way. “No.” It was an order. “It’s too dangerous.”

Shelby looked at the Maitland family matriarch. Years ago Megan had taken Shelby and her brothers and sister under her wing when their own parents had abandoned them. Though she had arranged for the children to be adopted by friends of hers, Megan had always been like an aunt—or at times a second mother—to the Lord children. Shelby realized there was no point arguing, but she wasn’t happy about doing nothing.

Sensing the struggle she’d created within the younger woman, Megan mitigated her words with logic. “Besides, they might be on their way home already, and you’ll wind up missing them. No sense in driving up there for no reason. Better to stay put.”

“All right.” Shelby relented, slipping her keys into her pocket. “I’ll give them another half an hour, but after that I’m out of here.” As if to back up her position, she took out her cell phone and held it up for inspection. “And I’ve got a fully charged cell phone, so if they do show up while I’m gone, you can reach me the minute they walk in.”

“I’ll go with you,” Lacy told her. Megan opened her mouth to protest, but Lacy wasn’t about to be talked out of it. “I can’t take this waiting any longer, Mrs. Maitland, and if I pace anymore, you’re going to have a path worn through your tile.”

Megan shrugged carelessly. As if that mattered. “I was getting tired of that pattern anyway,” she quipped. “And I know how you feel.” Her eyes held the younger woman’s. She saw doubt. “I really do.”

There was something in the older woman’s eyes that spoke to her, though for the life of her, Lacy didn’t understand how Megan Maitland could have the vaguest idea what it was like to be an unwed mother whose child had been kidnapped. Megan, who together with her husband had founded the prestigious Maitland Maternity Clinic, where the country’s rich and famous came to have their babies, rubbing shoulders with desperate young women who had their backs up against the wall and nowhere to turn—women for whom the clinic had originally been created. But Megan Maitland was far removed from the world Lacy knew. She could easily buy and sell half the people in Austin without blinking an eye. How could she possibly know what it was like to be so destitute that she had nowhere to turn?

But she did have somewhere to turn, Lacy reminded herself. She had a job as a chef at Austin Eats Diner. Shelby Lord had taken her in and given her that job when she had amnesia. After a blow to the head had restored her memory, Shelby said nothing had changed. The job was hers for as long as she wanted it.

So she had a job and friends now, friends who had been eager to help reunite her with her baby. Friends who were willing to risk themselves and the ones they loved to do it. She might not have money like Megan, but she was rich in her own way. Rich in friends.

Lacy smiled. Maybe she had more in common with Megan than she’d thought.

“Wait.” Shelby held up a hand to stop the other women from talking. “Table the talk about driving over to the sugar factory, I think I hear a car. Two cars,” she amended.

Lacy was at the front door before Shelby finished speaking, pulling it open in time to see the two cars that had driven up and turned off their headlights.

“They’re back,” she cried, running out to meet them, her heart hammering wildly.

“Wait, Lacy,” Megan called.

Her back to the house, Lacy didn’t hear her. She didn’t hear or see anything but the tall man coming toward her.

Moonlight outlined his long frame and the tan Stetson he wore. In the dark it was difficult at first to see that he was holding something in his arms. Or what that something was.

Her mother’s heart told her even before her eyes could adjust.

Lacy didn’t remember crossing the last five feet to Connor. Didn’t remember her feet hitting the ground in a dead run. All she was aware of was that her eyes had filled with tears, making it difficult to focus.

She could have made her way to her son’s side blindfolded.

Lacy clutched Connor’s arm, looking into the face of her sleeping son.

“You found him,” she sobbed. “And he’s so big.”

The baby she remembered holding to her breast had been almost a newborn, certainly not this thriving child with his fair hair and rounded face.

As if in response to her voice, Chase opened his eyes, looking at her with wonder. A sweet smile moved the small, rosebud mouth.

Something warm opened up smack in the middle of Connor’s chest. He had trouble dealing with it. “He knows you,” Connor said.

Lacy wanted to say yes, even though she knew it was almost too much to hope for. She and Chase had been apart for so many months. Important months. But for the moment, she told herself that it was true.

“He had a very sweet disposition,” she murmured, taking her son into her arms.

It felt like heaven.

She hadn’t realized until this very second how much her arms had ached for this small weight. How much her heart had ached to feel the baby’s heart beating next to hers.

Happiness threatened to overwhelm her. It was almost more than she could humanly stand.

“Oh, thank you,” she murmured, raising her eyes to Connor and the men who were gathered behind him. “Thank you all for bringing my baby back to me.”

“Can we hold the thanks until we get into the house?” Garrett Lord requested. The month-old wound in his shoulder still ached, and he needed a painkiller.

Belatedly, Connor realized that Lacy had rushed out in her bare feet. Sometimes the woman didn’t have the sense she was born with. She could hurt herself on the stony drive.

“Get inside before we add a sprained ankle to the list of things that’ve gone wrong for you,” he ordered, slipping an arm around her.

Some things might have gone wrong, Lacy thought, but other things had gone very right. She had her baby back, and Connor, however temporarily, was in her life once more. There was no way she felt in the wrong tonight.

“Throw away the list,” Lacy told him. Without being conscious of it, she leaned into Connor as they walked to the house, absorbing the strength that radiated from him. “All that matters is that you found Chase and brought him back to me.”

“Not quite all,” Jake Maitland corrected, coming in behind them. He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the coatrack, snaring a hook. He wrapped one arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her toward him, pausing to kiss Camille before he continued. He noted that the women were all looking at him, waiting for him to continue. “I think equally important is that Janelle is finally behind bars, and if there’s any justice in this world, will never bother you or anyone else in this family—” he looked at his mother “—again.”

“What about Connor?” Abby asked, then immediately realized her mistake. “I mean Petey.”

“Well, he’s not going to be sharing a cell with Janelle, that’s for damn sure,” Michael told her.

Megan turned from Michael and looked at her youngest son’s face for confirmation. Jake grimly nodded. “He had a gun with him. When we showed up, Janelle goaded him into shooting it out with us instead of giving up. Petey didn’t stand a chance.”

“Petey?” Lacy echoed. She looked at Connor. “Was that his name?”

Connor nodded. “That was his name. Seems he was married to Janelle, the poor bastard.” He shrugged. “Maybe he’s better off this way. No telling what she had up her sleeve for him next. That woman had him jumping through flaming hoops and swearing it was his idea.” He saw the quizzical look in Lacy’s eyes. “He talked a little before he died. What he didn’t tell us, Janelle did.”

Once she’d stopped cursing them all to hell, she’d made an about-face and confessed. Proudly. It left Connor mystified how the woman could be so proud of being so evil and spreading that poison into so many lives.

Megan shook her head. It all seemed like such a horrible waste to her. Greed and jealousy were terrible things. She cleared her throat, glad to be done with this chapter.

“The important thing is that it’s all over.” Megan’s eyes swept the young men and women in her home, her gratitude evident. For the first time in days, she felt like eating. “What do you say we all go into the kitchen and I’ll see if I can fix us a celebratory late dinner.” She thought of the time. It was close to dawn. “Or early breakfast, as it were,” she amended. “All this tension has helped me work up an appetite.”

Assenting murmurs went up, but Megan noticed that Connor began to distance himself from the others. Their eyes met, and she raised a silent brow.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon go up to my room and get some sleep right now,” he said. “I’m about ready to drop in my tracks.”

Megan felt a smattering of disappointment. Now that this major hurdle had been resolved to their satisfaction, she would have thought that Connor would want to remain with his son and his son’s mother, at least for a little while.

But she was well versed in reading expressions. One look at him told her not to push. Connor had his reasons for withdrawing. Maybe he needed a little time to assimilate all that had happened. From what she gathered, he hadn’t even known he had a son until just after the kidnapping had come to light and Lacy had regained her memory.

“Of course, Connor,” she agreed. “You must be exhausted.”

Maybe it was better if they all went to bed for what was left of the night. That way, they’d be fresh when she dropped her bombshell—and prayed for the best. Besides, the rest of her children needed to be here. She wasn’t about to go through that emotion-wrenching announcement more than once. It needed to be made to everyone at the same time. She felt bad enough that Ellie had accidentally overheard and had borne the weight of knowing her secret alone.

Megan had made up her mind. From now on, no more secrets of any kind, no matter how innocent.

“You all have to be exhausted,” she acknowledged, looking at the others. “Why don’t we postpone any sort of celebration until I can do this up properly?” Her eyes swept over Connor first, then touched everyone in the room one by one until they came to rest on Lacy. The mother of her grandchild.

“Sounds good to me,” Jake murmured. He slung his arm around Camille, his eyes drooping just a shade. “Care to prop up a hero? Help me up to bed and I’ll give you all the details, bit by bit.”

Before Camille could comment, Abby’s beeper went off, pulsing red numbers. Angling it away from her belt, Abby made out the telephone number. It was only vaguely familiar. She made a guess.

“Probably Mrs. Marlow. She looked ready to pop when I saw her in the office yesterday. Twins this time.” Two cups of coffee should give her a second wind, she estimated, sighing. “Another post-midnight delivery. Perfect ending to a perfect day.” On her way to the den and the telephone, Abby stopped long enough to brush a kiss on Connor’s cheek. “Nice work, cousin. Looks like you found the family just in time.”

He wasn’t sure if she was referring to the fact that, in being reunited with the Maitlands, he was able to get the help he needed to recover his son or if there was something else behind her words. All he did know was that the term she’d applied to him was incorrect.

He wasn’t her cousin, he was her half brother.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say something. But it wasn’t up to him to make the correction, he reminded himself. The words, whatever she ultimately chose them to be, belonged to Megan. He knew the circumstances surrounding his birth and his subsequent secretive adoption. He’d only learned them recently himself. Connor couldn’t even imagine what Megan must have gone through, thinking him dead all these years, only to have him turn up now, not her nephew, as she’d believed, but her son. Had to be a lot to deal with. He owed it to her to be the one to let the others know.

Or keep the secret to herself.

He had a lot to deal with himself, he thought, finding out he had a child of his own he hadn’t known about. He supposed in a way that gave him something in common with his birth mother.

It was going to be hard, making the transition. Thinking of Megan Maitland as his mother instead of Clarise O’Hara, the woman who had raised him. The mother he’d buried almost two years ago.

Reaching the foot of the stairs, Connor glanced toward Lacy. Part of him was tempted to remain with her. To say things to her that had occurred to him both before and after he and the others had rescued Chase. But he didn’t want to be hasty. There was a wealth of feelings churning inside him, feelings that had to be sorted out and examined before he did anything about them.

He had learned a long time ago not to say things in the heat of the moment or when he was too exhausted to think clearly. Anything worth saying would keep until morning, when he was more lucid and had the time to think things through. He didn’t want to say things to Lacy he’d only have to take back later, no matter how much he suddenly wanted to say them. She’d been through enough without having him add to her grief.

“Night,” he murmured, nodding at Shelby and her brothers, who were on their way out the door, then at Lacy and Megan. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Lacy tightened her arms around her son, watching the only man she’d ever cared about, the only man she’d fallen in love with—not once, but twice—disappear up the stairs.

Squaring her shoulders, she turned to Megan. “I guess maybe I’d better be leaving, too.”

Megan shook her head. “You’ll do no such thing. You’re in no condition to drive anywhere tonight. Look at you—you’re flushed and your eyes look like they’re liable to close any minute. All we need now is to have you fall asleep at the wheel and drive into some ditch. You’re staying here tonight. The nursery’s still there for Chase, and you’re welcome to your pick of bedrooms.”

“I wouldn’t argue with her if I were you,” Abby advised Lacy with an affectionate wink. “No one’s ever won.”

Lacy smiled her gratitude. She was exhausted. “Then I guess I’m staying the night.”

Megan patted her arm. “Smart girl. Now let’s go and get you settled in.”

Though she liked the independence she had so recently embraced, it was nice, Lacy thought as she followed Megan up the stairs, being taken care of just this once.

CHAPTER TWO

CONNOR FELT like hell.

He probably looked it, too, he surmised, making his way down the back stairs. It was early, and the others, he assumed, were still asleep. Just as well. He preferred it that way. Fewer people to interact with. He wasn’t exactly at his social best at the moment.

He hadn’t gotten more than a thimbleful of sleep before he’d given up and gotten out of bed. There was so much on his mind, so many emotions running rampant through him, demanding to be addressed, that when his body had finally surrendered to exhaustion, the sleep that had come to him had been fitful, leaving Connor more tired, if possible, when he awoke than when he’d finally fallen asleep.

He was no fresher this morning than he had been hours before. And therefore, he concluded, he was in no better condition to make decisions now than then. Worse, if he were being honest.

So when he stumbled down the stairs, led by instinct to the kitchen and, he hoped, mud-strong coffee set on a timer, and came across Lacy and Chase instead, the reaction that suddenly came over him was not one he fully trusted. Likely, it had more to do with his physical state than his emotional one.

But it was the emotional one that was responding.

A feeling of awe and something Connor couldn’t quite put a name to filled him, pushing its way to every corner of his being like late morning sunshine seeking to chase out the last remnants of the night’s shadows.

Lacy, her back to him, was feeding the baby. Connor leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb and quietly watched this tiny, shining moment of motherhood in action.

He’d always kept his own counsel, playing everything so close to the chest, it was almost completely undetected by the average person who passed through his life. No one could ever have accused Connor of being an emotional man. He had always believed that emotions got in the way of things. To give in to them undermined your stamina, your resolve. The way to face life was stoically, shouldering responsibilities that came along and moving ahead one day at a time. If that sort of philosophy made the road lonely, at least the terrain was negotiable. And, ultimately, that was the most important thing.

But this, whatever “this” was, didn’t fit into his way of life. This feeling didn’t even have a name, at least not one he was willing to affix to it. But it had breadth and texture and substance nonetheless, looming suddenly rather large in his world.

And it had to do not only with the small being who had come into his life less than twelve hours ago, but with Lacy, as well.

Connor straightened, trying desperately to straighten his thinking, as well. This thing he was struggling with was just responsibility under a different guise, nothing more, he told himself. That was what was nagging at him, defying definition. Just an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

After all, he’d never been a father before. Fatherhood brought with it a wealth of obligations. Not the least of which was an obligation to the child’s mother.

Lacy.

He knew he had to do the right thing, by her and by the child. It was wrestling with what exactly the right thing was that was troubling him.

And no wonder. He was forty-five years old, a hell of a time to have his world upended and find himself a father for the first time.

Damn, a revelation like that, especially without warning, would have thrown a bigger man than him off, Connor reasoned.

Lacy didn’t bother looking over her shoulder. Instead, she finally asked, “Are you going to hover by the doorway all morning, or are you going to come in and take a look at your son in the daylight?”

Feeling slightly foolish, like a man caught where he shouldn’t be, Connor cleared his throat as he walked into the kitchen. “You knew I was there?”

Her mouth curved. She’d sensed his presence even before Connor had reached the bottom of the stairs.

Funny how someone who had been such a huge part of her life once had vanished from her mind for those long, lonely months she’d spent groping for her lost memory. Lacy would have sworn that nothing would have been able to erase Connor O’Hara from her thoughts. Maybe he wasn’t as indelibly imprinted there as she’d once believed. She hadn’t even recognized him when he’d first come into the diner.

As she looked back now, that astounded her, amnesia or no amnesia. So much of her heart had been and still was tangled up with Connor.

It always would be, she thought, now that she had Chase.

Spooning some more cereal past her son’s very messy lips, she smiled. This felt so right. She blessed all the books on early child rearing she’d devoured once she knew of her condition. At least there would be no awkwardness with her son the way there was with his father.

She glanced over her shoulder at Connor. He looked as if he hadn’t slept. Was that because of her? Or was it just because of everything that had happened last night?

She told herself not to nurse any false hopes. She’d been that route before and been sorely disappointed. “You’re not exactly invisible, you know. Why didn’t you just come into the kitchen? There’s certainly room enough.”

There was room enough in the kitchen for a minor convention. Megan—his mother, he amended—liked it that way, he’d heard. Enough room for everyone in the family to gather and bring a friend if they felt like it. Megan considered the kitchen the heart of the house. As if such things were possible, he thought, dismissing the notion as foolish.

Connor shrugged. “You seemed busy with Chase, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Letting Chase feed himself a finger of toast, she turned to look at Connor squarely. God, but she did love this man, no matter what. She knew she always would. But that was her problem, not his.

“You’re not,” she told him briskly, then softened. He did look like thirty miles of bad road, but even so, he was as handsome as they came. “He’s yours as well as mine. He wouldn’t be here right now if not for you—twice over,” she added, her mouth curving in a whimsical smile.

Last night had been a team effort. There was no way he could have gotten Chase away safely if not for Jake, Michael and Garrett.

“I didn’t do that much. The others— Oh.” The full impact of her words finally hit him. She meant fathering Chase. “Yes, well…”

His voice trailed off, led away by fragments of memory that drifted in then faded again, incomplete. He paused, grappling with questions, with things that needed clearing up.

The time, he decided, was probably never going to be more right than now. If he didn’t ask, the opportunity would only drift further and further away from him.

He moved so that he was beside her and could see her face when she spoke.

Connor shoved his hands into his jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She raised her eyes to look at him. “About Chase. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant when you found out, and that the baby you were carrying was mine?” Against his will, he remembered the single night they’d shared. How soft, how delicate she’d felt in his arms. Like a dream that had descended to earth for the duration of dusk to dawn.

Her hand tightening on the spoon, Lacy unconsciously raised her chin. She pretended to be completely engrossed in feeding Chase, coaxing another spoonful of food between his lips. “I didn’t want you to think I wanted anything from you.”

“I could have helped you with the bills—”

Her face clouded. Didn’t he understand what she was saying? It wasn’t his money she’d wanted or needed. It was his love. And that she couldn’t have, so the rest never mattered.

“I didn’t want that.”

He pulled a chair around, straddling it so that he faced her. She wasn’t making any sense. “Yet you left the baby on the steps of the hospital because you couldn’t take care of him.”

She flinched at the accusation in his voice. It was something she’d berated herself for a hundred times over.

“I’ll never forgive myself for that.” Her voice was solemn, hollow. “But it was one unpardonable moment of weakness, because Janelle was after me and I was afraid she’d hurt the baby.” She bit her lip. She’d been desperate, with nowhere to turn, her back to the wall. “Still, there was no excuse for doing it that way.”

Frustrated, he dragged his hand through his hair. That wasn’t the point. The torment in her eyes sparked his guilt. Damn it, it wasn’t his intention to make her blame herself. “I didn’t mean—God knows you paid for that.”

“Not enough.” Lacy blinked back tears that had suddenly risen to her eyes. She could have lost Chase forever. She looked at the face of her son. The wide, happy grin was smeared with custard-colored cereal. With the edge of his bib, she wiped the stains away. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to him—if I can.”

Damn it, why wasn’t this coming out right? He wasn’t trying to accuse her of anything, just trying to get to the bottom of her reasoning, or what passed for it. “Aren’t you being a little hard on yourself?”

But she shook her head, refusing to accept absolution. “If something had happened to him, I couldn’t be hard enough to make up for that—”

He sighed. They were veering off track. “Lacy— I had a right to know.”

Her eyes met his for a moment before she began feeding Chase again.

“Yes, you did,” she replied quietly. “I know that now and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I didn’t want to spring a baby on you, not after what you’d told me. If you recall, at the time you said things like we weren’t right for each other and that I deserved someone who could give me a family. Something you made quite clear you weren’t willing to do. That’s why I believed that letter Janelle gave me, claiming you wrote it. The one that gave me the brush-off.”

“This isn’t about Janelle. She duped both of us, not to mention the family and she’s going to be made to pay for everything she’s done. I wouldn’t have left you a note, but in a way…”

“In a way?” She prodded him, feeling the heat of anger rising within her.

This wasn’t coming out right. Talking wasn’t his long suit. He was just thinking of Lacy. “Forty-five’s a little old to start all over again.”

Age was just a number to her. Other factors meant so much more. “Only if you want it to be. Twenty-five’s old if the circumstances arrange themselves that way.”

She was trying not to let her temper get the best of her, but it was becoming very hard not to give in. Connor had deliberately turned his back on something wonderful because of a number.

“The trick is not to let it be. The real trick is to want something so much that age or any other obstacle has nothing to do with it and isn’t allowed to get in your way.” She shrugged, telling herself it didn’t matter. Knowing she was lying. “You didn’t want any of this.”

What he’d professed he’d wanted had no bearing on what was now a reality. “Still, it—he,” Connor amended, annoyed with himself at the slip, “is here and I have a responsibility—”

Responsibility. It took everything she had not to scream. “God, you couldn’t have come up with a colder word if you tried, do you know that?”

Women were creatures Connor knew he just couldn’t begin to fathom. He was better off with horses. At least there were manuals about dealing with horses. “What cold word? What are you talking about? The father of a child has certain responsibilities to that child—”

Lacy fought tears. He didn’t have the vaguest idea what it took to be a father. What hurt was that he didn’t realize it. There was no point in getting angry, she thought. What was involved was beyond his comprehension.

“Not any you’d understand,” she said dully.

She was rambling again. He caught her hand as she was about to give Chase the last bit of the cereal. “What?”

Her eyes on his, she waited him out. He released her hand. “You’re talking money, aren’t you?”

Exasperation threatened to undo the calm exterior he was trying to maintain for the sake of the baby. “Yes, I’m talking money.”

She started to say something, then thought better of it. It was like trying to explain the nuances of a piano keyboard to a man who was utterly tone-deaf. “No, thank you.”

She was a little too quick to turn her back on his offer. It galled him.

“And just how do you intend to pay for his food? His clothing? His education when the time comes?” Connor demanded, his voice rising. “The tooth fairy isn’t going to magically make it happen. Only money takes care of things like that—and I have money.”

And apparently nothing else, Lacy thought. She looked at him, sorrow deep in her eyes.

He didn’t know whether to be insulted or not. He settled for annoyed. “What?”

Lacy pressed her lips together, shaking her head slightly. “Nothing. It’s just that for a little while back there, when I saw you walking from the car with our son in your arms, I thought you had something else to offer.”

More fool she was for thinking so, she upbraided herself. When was she going to learn that she’d had a happier outcome than most? Her baby was alive and well and so was she. That was the most she could hope for. Happy endings only existed in fairy tales, and Connor had made it very clear what he thought of things like that.

He blew out an angry breath. “Can’t barter with ‘something else.’” Connor wanted her to see reason. Was that too much to ask? “Money is what counts in this world.”

An iciness slipped over her heart. Had she been so blind? So wrong about the man Connor O’Hara really was? “Do you really believe that?”

“Yes.” He wasn’t a slave to money and it wasn’t his god, but he knew what the world was like, what happened to people who couldn’t pay. They did without and grew bitter in the end. Look what the desire for money had driven Janelle to do.

If he only knew how much it hurt to hear him say things like that, Lacy thought. She’d been right to leave his ranch when she found out she was pregnant. There was no love in Connor’s heart, no compassion. And those values she wanted passed on to her son.

Very quietly, she slipped the spoon into the bowl, then wiped the last of his breakfast from Chase’s face. “Then I guess there’s not much difference between you and Janelle, is there?”

Now what was she talking about? He swore silently, feeling he couldn’t follow the conversation without a road map. Here he was, trying to make sure that Chase and she were provided for, and she was behaving as if he was trying to have her stoned in the town square as an undesirable. “I wouldn’t try to steal it.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’re much too honorable for that.” And that was just the problem. She didn’t want him being honorable, she wanted him being passionate, being moved that he had living, flesh-and-blood proof that he existed, that he could love.

She supposed she was being naive again. Just like the last time.

Connor resented the way she twisted what he was trying to say and do. “Why do you make honorable sound as if it’s a dirty word?”

Megan picked that moment to sweep into the kitchen, curtailing the conversation.

Drawn by the sound of Connor’s and Lacy’s raised voices, she’d debated turning and leaving, then had decided against it. The two had been through a great deal, both separately and together. By all rights, their emotions probably bore an acute resemblance to Swiss cheese by now. What they needed as they stood there swiping at each other was not a referee, but time out. Time to heal.

She intended to give it to them.

“Hello, I thought I’d find you here,” she said to Lacy. “But not you.” That had been for Connor. Looking from one to the other, she deliberately kept her expression blank. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Connor growled, turning away from them toward the counter. A coffee urn, filled to the brim, stood to the side, all but forgotten in the heat of the moment. “I just came down for coffee.”

“Me, too,” Megan told him cheerfully, determined to keep the peace. She took three cups and saucers out of the cupboard, lining them up on the counter. “Can’t seem to begin my day without at least two cups.” Pressing the spigot, she filled the first cup to the rim. “Used to be one, but the body slows down with age.” Megan sighed appropriately, then smiled at her firstborn. “Although I’m determined to fight it all the way.”

She set down the first cup and filled the second, glancing over her shoulder at Chase as she did so. Even the tiny scrap of a look caused her heart to tighten. She dearly loved the little boy. In a small way, having him with her these past months made up for missing out on Connor’s first year.

“I missed looking in on him during the night.”

There was nothing but everlasting gratitude in Lacy’s heart toward Megan Maitland. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for Chase.”

Megan waved away the words, embarrassed. “No need to thank me, especially since he’s family.” The birthmark crescent on Chase’s tummy had been proof enough for Megan. It was reminiscent of the one that had been in the same area on Connor’s father. Although birthmarks weren’t necessarily inherited, this one was too unique to question.

It was Lacy’s turn to be somewhat embarrassed. No matter what the circumstances, she still owed Megan a great deal. “Yes, but still—”

“Thanks aren’t necessary,” Megan repeated, her eyes kind as they washed over Lacy. “For any of it. So—” she handed Connor a cup and then gave one to Lacy before picking up her own “—any plans yet?”

Taking a sip, Megan kept her eyes on the younger woman. She’d all but made up her mind about Lacy, deciding that she was one of the good ones. A little defensive perhaps, but who could blame her? The girl had had more than her share of bad breaks. But all that was going to change.

Lacy shook her head. So much had happened, she was having trouble assimilating it all. “Catching my breath first.”

Megan smiled, her eyes shifting to her son. Connor didn’t look too happy. His brooding expression reminded her so much of Clyde, the ranch hand who had captured her heart at seventeen, only to desert her when she needed him most. But for all that, there was no denying that he had been exquisite to look at.

“Always a wise thing to do,” she said to Lacy.

Lacy took Chase’s bib off and set it on the table. The high chair’s small tray was far too messy. “And then I guess I’ll be taking him home with me.”

Megan’s heart felt as if it had stopped midbeat, though she tried to give no indication. “And home would be…?”

Lacy picked up a sponge and cleaned off the tray, lifting Chase’s splayed hands one at a time to finish the job. Cereal and the fruit she’d added to the mix were on his fingers, evidence of his enthusiastic attempts at feeding himself. She thought Megan knew where she lived. “Why, the room I have now at the boarding house.”

Megan released the breath she’d been holding. It had already been established that Lacy was Chase’s mother. She’d taken the simple lab test eagerly. Fighting for custody of the baby wasn’t in her, but Megan’s heart would have broken if she drastically lost Chase out of her everyday life. “Thank God, I was afraid you meant someplace else.” She saw that Lacy didn’t follow her. “Where you came from originally.”

Lacy shook her head, deliberately not looking in Connor’s direction. The ranch was gone. “I’ve no reason to go back.”

Even if Connor planned on returning to the area, she added silently. Whatever had brought him to Austin and the Maitlands was probably only temporary, and when it was over, he’d go back. And she would remain here, making a life for herself and her son.

She tried to ignore the sharp prick she felt in her heart.

Megan could feel the tension in the room. There was so much she wanted to say to Lacy. To both of them. But that would be getting ahead of herself. It was all set for this evening. No matter how upside down everything until now had been, this one revelation had to proceed according to the order she’d decided on.

Still, she felt impatience goading her. Trying to distract herself, she looked at Lacy, then nodded at Chase. “May I?”

If I could give my son a grandmother, Lacy thought, the woman would be one exactly like Megan Maitland. “Of course.”

Megan slowly lifted Chase from his high chair. He greeted her efforts with a wide grin. A sweetness pressed against her chest as she held him to her.

Her grandson.

She still could hardly believe it was true.

Turning to Lacy, she placed a hand on the young woman’s arm. “All I ask is that you make no decisions about anything until tonight.”

That sounded very mysterious. Without meaning to, Lacy glanced in Connor’s direction. There was nothing in his expression to enlighten her. “Tonight?”

Megan patted Chase on the back, rubbing in small concentric circles. With so much on her mind, Lacy had obviously forgotten, she thought. “I’m having the family over for an informal dinner. To celebrate Chase’s recovery.” She saw the light dawn on Lacy’s face. “And I have a few things to announce.” Only one of which was important to her, she added silently. But she didn’t want to give away any more than was necessary. “Also, I want to hear all the details that were glossed over last night.” She looked at Connor. “Everything,” she emphasized.

What was she driving at? he wondered. She already knew everything that seemed pertinent. Petey was dead and Janelle was behind bars. What more was there?

“Such as?” His tone was naturally wary.

“Such as there are pieces missing from this puzzle. Important pieces.” Megan saw by the look on his face that he wanted her to be more specific. But she didn’t want to launch into that now. She wanted to wait until they were all together. “But I’ll contain my curiosity until tonight.” She turned to Lacy. Though none of what Lacy had gone through this past year was her fault, she wanted to make things up to the girl. “Right now, I think we need to get this big boy changed and ready to go.”

“Go? Go where?” Lacy asked.

“Shopping,” Megan replied brightly. She held Chase in the air, and the baby gurgled, shoving his fist into his mouth. The drool that followed told Megan another tooth was coming in soon. “I think in honor of his being officially recognized as a Maitland, he needs to get additions to his wardrobe befitting his station in life.” Laughing, she inclined her head toward Lacy. “Humor me, I feel like lavishing money and attention on him—and his mother.”

Lacy wasn’t about to accept charity, not even from someone as nice as Megan. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary. You’ve already bought so much for Chase, I—”

Megan wasn’t about to put up with excuses. “The only thing that’s necessary,” Megan told her, cutting Lacy off, “is for you to pack away your pride and say yes. Pride’s all well and good in its place, but it’s a poor substitute for having things. Take it from a woman who knows.” She saw the skeptical look on Lacy’s face. “There was a time that church mice thought of me as being poorer than they were.”

Lacy couldn’t believe that Megan had experienced anything less than living in the lap of luxury. “You?”

“Me.” A tinge of pride entered Megan’s voice. “When I married William Maitland, his family thought he’d taken leave of his senses and that I would drag him down.” Her smile was sunny, almost transforming her into the young woman who had caught William’s eye and heart. “I turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to him and his stodgy family.” Megan winked at both of them. “Or so he liked to tell me. Now come along, no more excuses or dragging your feet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“There, that’s what I like to hear. Complete compliance.” She glanced over her shoulder at Connor just before she and Lacy left the room with Chase. “You could stand to learn a thing or two from this girl, Connor.”

He already had, he thought, watching them leave. And that was just the problem.

CHAPTER THREE

“WELL, WELL, WELL, aren’t you the little princess?”

Straightening her shoulders, Janelle tossed her hair over her shoulder, its deep chestnut color a sharp contrast to the drab prison-gray dress she was wearing.

Her lips curled in an expression that was half smirk, half sneer as she regarded the visitor the guard had ushered her in to see. If she’d been expecting Connor, she gave no indication of her disappointment. Instead, brassy insolence defined every inch of her countenance.

She dropped into the chair that faced Lacy’s across the visitor’s table, determined to remain in control over the other woman the way she had all along. “I was wondering if you’d get around to coming to see me.”

Alone in the small five-by-nine room with Janelle, Lacy knew there was a policeman right outside the door. All she had to do was call and the man would instantly be in the room, ready to stop anything that was happening. Janelle couldn’t hurt her anymore. Couldn’t steal her baby away the way she had twice already.

But logic didn’t really help quell the uneasiness shimmering through her.

With effort, Lacy drew her courage to her. Cutting the shopping trip short, she had left Chase in Megan’s care with a fabricated excuse, borrowed a car from her and driven to the police precinct where she knew Janelle was being kept until her arraignment. She was determined to get some answers from the woman. Otherwise, the questions would continue to haunt her, creeping in late at night, wrapped up in nightmares.

“Why?” The single word echoed between them. Janelle looked disinterested. Lacy raised her voice. “Why did you do all this?”

Janelle laughed shortly, pretending to regard her nails. The polish had chipped off them, leaving dull spots here and there. “If you can’t figure that out, you’re simpler than I thought.”

Janelle’s contemptuous tone ate at her, but then, she hadn’t come here expecting civility.

“For the money, I know that. I know all about your husband posing as Connor. I can even understand, when it looked as if it was all going to go up in flames, why you stole Chase.” Lacy leaned across the table, her eyes intent on Janelle. “But why did you try to steal him from me in the first place? I was no threat to you.”

Janelle’s lips twisted, deepening the sneer. She ached to rake what was left of her nails across the pale, delicate face, scarring it. “A lot you know. You were a threat from the very first second you decided to make a play for Connor.”

Lacy stood her ground. “I didn’t make a play, that just happened.”

“Yeah, right.” Cynicism dripped from every syllable. Innocence and love in their purest sense had never existed in Janelle’s world. They were myths, fairy tales she’d never witnessed firsthand. “I figured the kid would make a good prop—and I was right. The second she saw him, the old lady melted all over the little bastard—and I use the word correctly,” she added with a malicious laugh, seeing Lacy’s inadvertent wince.

An icy hand passed over her heart. Lacy shivered. She’d never realized how truly evil Janelle was until this moment. “And you were willing to kill me to get him?”

The shrug was careless, dismissive. Lacy was less than dirt to her. “Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. You’d given birth to the brat, you’d served your purpose.” Janelle’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the younger woman. “That made you expendable.”

Anger flooded Lacy. This woman had held her baby captive. Who was to say what she would have done to him if she’d suddenly thought of him as expendable? “And what gives you the right to play with people’s lives like that?”

“The right?” Janelle echoed. A savage hatred came into her eyes. “The right?” She reached across the table and grabbed Lacy’s arm, her fingers digging into her flesh. “I’ll tell you what gives me the right. I’m one of them, damn it.” Incensed, she released her hold as if she were tossing Lacy away from her. “And while they go around getting everything they want, money dripping out of their pockets, I’m supposed to do without? The hell I am.”

Lacy stared at her. “One of them? What are you talking about? How can you be one of them?”

Her anger under control, Janelle laughed coldly. She liked having all the answers. Doling them out. It made her feel powerful.

“Surprises you, does it? Well, Connor’s squeaky-clean family has a few skeletons in their closet. My father was the old lady’s brother-in-law. Robert Maitland.” There was no love in her voice as she said her father’s name, just as there had never been any love in her heart for the man who’d given her life, but little else.

Lacy thought she had her there. “Robert Maitland had two children he abandoned, R.J. and Anna.”

Megan had filled her in on the family history during lunch today. Taking Chase with them, they’d dined in one of Austin’s better restaurants, and Megan had made a point of clearing things up for her. Until then, Lacy had thought that R.J. and Anna were Megan’s oldest children. She’d been surprised to discover that they, like Connor, were nephew and niece. Megan and her late husband had adopted the two after their widowed father, Robert, had disappeared one day. The magnitude of Megan’s heart had impressed Lacy.

Just as the meanness within Janelle’s took her breath away.

Janelle’s lips narrowed into two thin lines. “Surprise—he married my mother and then abandoned four more kids before he finally cashed in his chips. You’ll pardon the expression,” she said sarcastically when she saw the confusion on Lacy’s face. “I’m from Vegas. That’s where Robert Maitland met my mother.” For just a fraction of a second, she looked away and her expression softened. If she had ever felt anything at all, it had been for her mother. “My mother was a showgirl. She was really something in her prime.” And then her face clouded over, malevolent again. “But he had no use for her after her looks started to go.”

Janelle’s gaze shifted back to Lacy. “That’s a Maitland for you—takes the best, leaves the rest.” Anger flashed in her eyes. She wanted revenge on all of them. “They owe me. And when I found that letter from Big Daddy Harland to ‘Uncle’ William in my father’s things after he died, I figured it was time the Maitlands paid up.”

Lacy wasn’t following this. What Janelle was saying was so disjointed, part of her thought the other woman was deranged or making things up. “What letter?”

Because it had been such an integral part of her scam for the past year, Janelle had momentarily forgotten it was still a secret.

“You don’t know, do you? You don’t know who you’ve been drooling over. He’s—” And then she realized that she had another weapon in her hand. Something to hold over Lacy’s head. Her eyes glinted as her thoughts scrambled. “No, never mind. Why should you know? Why should I tell you anything? Unless, of course,” she continued loftily, “you can see your way clear to using your influence with that old bitch and getting the charges against me dropped.”

It was a trick, a ploy. There was no so-called secret, no letter. It was just Janelle’s way of trying to manipulate her again. But she wasn’t the same person she’d been a year ago, Lacy thought. She was her own person now.

It was Lacy’s turn to be contemptuous. And to look at Janelle with pity. “I don’t have any influence, and even if I did, I wouldn’t use it. Not to get you off. You’re evil, Janelle.”

If the words were meant to shame Janelle, they fell far short of their mark. Instead, she laughed, amused. “Damn straight I am—and proud of it. What did being a Goody Two-shoes ever get anyone?”

Lacy rose to her feet and crossed to the door. There was no anger, no hatred any longer. There was only abject pity in her eyes as she looked at Janelle. Instead of trying to make something of herself, she’d destroyed lives and created a wretched future for herself, all because she’d been consumed with envy.

“Peace of mind,” Lacy answered quietly. She rapped on the door, then stepped back as it was opened. “I’m ready to go now.”

“Go ahead, go,” Janelle scoffed, waving her away. “But you’ll be back. You’ll come crawling back, begging me to tell you. Wait and see if you don’t,” Janelle called after her before the door closed, sealing her in a world she’d never foreseen for herself.

AS SHE DROVE away from the jail, her mind in turmoil, Lacy’s first thought was to go to Connor with what she’d just discovered.

But he’d been so distant since last night. Would he think she was making it all up for some purpose of her own? Not that she could entirely blame him. After being exposed to the likes of Janelle, Connor probably held everything suspect. He might not believe what she had to tell him, especially since she hadn’t told him about his son.

But that was exactly why he should believe her, she argued silently. The very fact that she hadn’t told him he had a son should prove that she wasn’t out for anything, certainly not her own personal gain.

She needed proof before she went to Connor.

Lacy realized that the light had turned green and there were cars behind her, waiting to go. The one directly behind her beeped. She pressed down on the gas pedal.

What had Janelle meant when she’d implied that Connor wasn’t who he seemed to be? Was there a germ of truth in that, or was Janelle just trying to mess up her mind?

Probably the latter.

But she couldn’t quite put her mind to rest on the subject.

Lacy blew out a breath. Glancing at the street sign on the corner, she made a decision. At the end of the block, she made a U-turn. Before she let her imagination get the better of her and gave Janelle’s rantings any credence, she wanted to have a few things cleared up. But for that, she was going to need some help.

And she knew just who to go to.

“YOU’RE ASKING ME to give away my secrets?” Chelsea asked, half in jest.

“Not all of them,” Lacy clarified, not sure if she’d offended Chelsea. She hardly knew the woman, and this probably seemed like an imposition. “I just need to know where to find some information. I need to have something substantiated.” Chelsea had, until recently, worked for the tabloid television show “Tattle Today TV.” Lacy was certain that if anyone would know where to find old records, it would be Chelsea.

Chelsea slipped her arm around the other woman’s shoulders, drawing her into the cozy living room of Max Jamison’s house. The TV reporter and private investigator had finally acknowledged their love for each other after a year of being each other’s worst enemies.

“I’m teasing, Lacy,” Chelsea said. “You have to lighten up a little, although Lord knows you’ve had more than your share to deal with lately. Sure, I’ll help. Just what is it you need to know?”

She led Lacy to a room just down the hall. Inside Lacy could see a desk with a laptop computer on it. The screen was turned on. “Is there somewhere on the Internet I can look up marriage licenses and birth records?”

And here she’d thought Lacy was going to ask something difficult. Chelsea almost felt cheated of a challenge. “Provided they’re available, sure.” She led her into the room Max used as an office. “Got a name?”

“Yes,” Lucy said, entering behind her.

“State?” Standing to the side of the desk, Chelsea turned to look at Lacy. “Or better yet, a city?”

“Yes.” But what if Janelle had been lying about where she was from? “At least, I think so.”

“Great, then you’re in business.” Leaning over the computer, Chelsea pressed a few buttons, hooking up to the Internet. A tinny voice announced that she had mail. Chelsea grinned. “You know, in a few years, we’re probably going to be able to walk up to this little box and say, ‘Computer, access birth records from—’” She looked at Lacy.

“Las Vegas.”

Curiosity began to unfurl within her, but Chelsea held it in check. “Las Vegas and, wham, it’ll all be there, right at your fingertips.” She gestured at the screen. “Who would have ever thought that Gene Rodenberry was a visionary?”

Lacy looked at her blankly. “Who?”

Chelsea’s expression was incredulous. “My God, girl, don’t tell me you’ve never seen an episode of Star Trek? That’s almost un-American.”

Concerned with the import of what she might have learned, Lacy knew her mind was a million miles away. She flushed. “Oh, right. The producer. Sorry, I guess I’m a little preoccupied at the moment.”

With what? Chelsea wondered. “No problem, I understand.” She cleared away a few papers, then stepped back, letting Lacy sit down at the desk. “Now, want me to hover around as a consultant, or do you want to do this in private?”

Lacy bit her lower lip, hesitating. This was Chelsea’s laptop. She couldn’t very well tell her to go away. On the other hand, she didn’t want to have to be in a position to deal with questions before she was sure she had the right answers. “I—”

Chelsea had gone far in her field because of her acute ability to read a person’s body language and subtle shifts in mood. She saw her answer in Lacy’s eyes.

“Gotcha.” She smiled. “I’m into privacy a lot more since I’ve left ‘Tattle Today.’” Moving in closer for a second, she typed something on the upper portion of the screen, then stepped aside again. “Okay, there’s the Web address. Have fun.”

Chelsea left and closed the door behind her, consumed with curiosity but bound by her word. Sometimes, she mused, being honorable had its drawbacks.

MEGAN COULDN’T help herself. Having finished dressing for dinner, she stopped by Lacy’s room and rapped lightly before peeking in.

What she saw warmed her heart. The inner loveliness she’d been aware of since the first moment she’d met Lacy was most definitely shining through.

“You certainly are a knockout.” Circling the other woman slowly, Megan nodded. “I knew that dress was perfect for you the second we saw it in the store window.”

Pleased, Lacy ran her hands over the skirt of the sheath she was wearing. The amount on the price tag she’d glimpsed while trying it on in the store was more than her entire wardrobe had cost back when she’d worked as a cook for Connor and his mother on their ranch.

But Megan had insisted on buying it for her, and Lacy couldn’t seem to make herself resist. She had already turned down Megan’s generosity several times. It was one thing for the woman to buy clothes for her grandnephew, but Lacy knew she wasn’t anything to the family. Just a woman caught up in things, nothing more.

Still, the gesture touched her heart, just as the dress had won it.

Beaming, Lacy turned to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The deep green sheath was beautiful. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

“Don’t you dare,” Megan warned sternly. “I’ll be extremely hurt if you do, Lacy. One of the nice things about having money is that I get to spend it the way I want on the people I want. Now stop being difficult and smile, dear. You look positively radiant when you do.” When the shy smile appeared, Megan nodded, pleased. “Easy to see why Connor lost his head over you.”

The misbegotten observation sobered her. “Connor didn’t lose his head,” Lacy corrected Megan quietly. “He was grief-stricken over the loss of his mother and he’d had a little too much to drink that night.”

As she spoke, it all came vividly back to her. The words, the moment, the look in his eyes as he took her into his arms and kissed her. She could almost feel his lips on hers. She’d never felt so happy in her life. Before or since.

“When I tried to comfort him, well, one thing just seemed to lead to another….” She let her voice drift off.

Megan tried to read between the lines and wasn’t sure she liked what she was reading. “He forced himself on you?”

Lacy’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, no, no,” she protested quickly. “He’s never been anything but a complete gentleman.” A sad smile teased the corners of her mouth. “A little too much so. I’ve always had feelings for him, but it was sort of a one-way street.”

Relieved that her grandchild hadn’t been conceived as a result of an assault, Megan smiled at the young woman beside her.

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