“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you coming over to talk to him,” Mallory said, her eyes still misty. “It’s not easy relating to a little boy, especially when handling all the day-to-day stuff is still so new to me.”

“Thanks for calling me,” Rick said. “I have to admit, this sort of thing is a little out of my league, but I tried to remember what it was like to be his age.”

“Well, your instincts were spot-on. And everything you said to him was perfect.” She reached out her hand, although he wasn’t sure why.

In appreciation? As a way of extending some sort of parental olive branch?

Or was she hinting that it was time for him to go?

Either way, he took her hand in his. But the moment they touched, a jolt of heat shot right through him.

* * *

Return to Brighton Valley: Who says you can’t go home again?

The Daddy Secret
Judy Duarte

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JUDY DUARTE always knew there was a book inside her, but since English was her least favorite subject in school, she never considered herself a writer. An avid reader who enjoys a happy ending, Judy couldn’t shake the dream of creating a book of her own.

Her dream became a reality in March 2002, when Mills & Boon Cherish released her first book, Cowboy Courage. Since then she has published more than twenty novels. Her stories have touched the hearts of readers around the world. And in July 2005 Judy won a prestigious Readers’ Choice Award for The Rich Man’s Son.

Judy makes her home near the beach in Southern California. When she’s not cooped up in her writing cave, she’s spending time with her somewhat enormous but delightfully close family.

MILLS & BOON

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To my mother, Betty Astleford, who was my biggest fan, even before I uttered a single word, let alone formed them into sentences and put them to paper.

I love you, Mom!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Excerpt

Chapter One

Mallory Dickinson had vowed years ago that she’d never return to Brighton Valley. But here she was, back in town, listening to the empty moving van pull away from the curb of her newly rented home on a quiet, tree-lined street. One nice thing about the neighborhood was that it wasn’t far from the Brighton Valley Medical Center, where her grandfather, a recently retired minister, was hospitalized.

Alice Reilly, who worked part-time at the church, lived across the street. As luck would have it, the kindhearted woman had been the one to find her grandfather unconscious and to call paramedics. She’d also contacted Mallory and let her know how seriously ill he was. And then, last week, when Alice had learned that the house in her neighborhood was available for rent, she’d called both Mallory and the landlord, setting her cross-country move into motion.

As Mallory studied the small living room, thinking of all the unpacking she had to do, a bark sounded behind her, followed by a couple of bumps, a thump and a swoosh.

She turned to the front door, which apparently the movers had failed to shut tightly when they left, just as a big dog with muddy feet rushed into the house and skidded to a stop in front of her.

“Hey!” she said. “You don’t belong in here.”

The goofy mutt looked friendly enough, so she reached for its blue collar in an attempt to take it outside before it could track any more mud across the hardwood floor. But she’d no more than skimmed her fingers along the fur on its neck when the mutt jerked to the left, bumping a table with its rump and knocking over her grandmother’s antique crystal vase filled with the yellow roses Alice had brought over as a welcome gift an hour earlier.

She winced at the shattered glass, the scattered flowers and the puddle of water on the hardwood floor, as well as the smeared muddy paw prints.

The vase, along with several other valuables and breakables, had been packed in a box marked Priority. She’d opened it immediately upon the van’s arrival to make sure the movers hadn’t broken any of the contents.

They hadn’t, of course. And when Alice had brought the flowers...

But she quickly shut out her reason for setting out something so precious, so valuable, so soon, and shifted her focus to the dog that now headed toward the stairway.

Before she could protest or curse the negligent pet owner who’d let the animal run loose, especially after a spring rain had dumped nearly an inch of water overnight, the critter took off upstairs, its dirty feet undoubtedly tracking up the new beige carpet.

“No!” she yelled. “Don’t go up there. You come back here. Now!”

Before she could dash after the darn mutt, a man’s voice sounded behind her. “Excuse me, but did a dog just run in here?”

Mallory spun around, ready to give the dog’s owner a piece of her mind—and to tell him that he owed her the cost of cleaning the carpet—until her gaze met a familiar face.

Rick Martinez?

Her breath caught, and her jaw must have dropped clear to the floor. She wasn’t sure what surprised her more—the fact that the notorious Brighton Valley High School bad boy, a sinfully gorgeous adult version, was standing in her doorway. Or that she still had the same breath-stealing reaction to a pair of dazzling blue eyes she’d never expected to see again.

“Mallory?” he asked, clearly just as astonished to see her.

She had to close her mouth before she could respond, yet even as her lips pressed together, then parted again to allow her to speak, the words only wadded up in her throat.

She finally managed a nod.

He glanced at the broken vase, at the muddy paw prints on the floor. “Oh, no. Did Buddy do that? I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for the damages. Where did he go?”

She pointed upstairs.

Rick whistled, then called, “Buddy!”

A bark sounded, and the dog came bounding down the stairs to its master, its tongue dangling from its mouth.

When it plopped down on its haunches, its muddy tail swooshing across the hardwood floor like a dirty dust mop, Rick slipped his hand under the collar and snapped on the leash. Then he straightened and scanned the cardboard-box-filled room. “Did you just move in?”

At that, she finally found the words to go along with her nod. “Yes.”

“That’s a surprise.”

Wasn’t it, though!

She’d loved Rick once, with all her heart. But things had changed.

He’d changed.

She’d changed.

They stood there for a moment, caught up in some kind of weird time warp, where nothing made sense. The air grew thick, making it hard to breathe.

Rick seemed to gather his wits first, as he took another glance at the mess his dog had made. “I’m really sorry about this, Mallory. Buddy has the heart of a puppy and still has a lot to learn. I’m afraid he jumped the fence and was exploring the neighborhood. I’ll walk him back to my place, then I’ll come back and help you clean up.”

His place? Did that mean Rick Martinez was one of her neighbors?

If she’d known that, she never would have agreed to take this house, no matter how cute it was. In fact, she’d assumed that he’d moved away from here years ago, like the teenage drifter he’d claimed to be when she’d first met him, when he’d had to move from his uncle’s home to foster care.

Well, apparently her assumption had been wrong.

But there was no way she could accept his offer of help. No way at all.

“You don’t need to do that,” Mallory said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I can’t leave you with the mess.”

Why couldn’t he? She’d cleaned up the mess they’d made of their young lives years ago all on her own, hadn’t she?

“So you’re back in town,” he said again, as if finding it difficult to believe. But then again, why wouldn’t he be surprised? After the first few months, she’d never expected to come back, either.

“My grandfather is having some health issues,” she said. “I need to be close to him.”

Rick nodded as if that all made sense. And while his family hadn’t been close, he should understand. Mallory’s grandparents had raised her after her parents had died. Gram was gone now, too, and Grandpa was all she had left.

Grandpa and Lucas.

Oh, no. Lucas.

Please don’t let Alice bring him home now. Not until I’ve had time to think things through, to decide what to say to who—and when.

Things were complicated. And it would be tough to explain, especially when it was sometimes hard for her to believe how it had all come to be.

“Well,” Rick said, “I’d better take Buddy home. But I meant what I said about helping you clean up. I’ll also pay for any damages the dog might have caused you. Like the broken vase and the cost of the carpet cleaning.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” Mallory said, eager to see him go, to begin the cleanup, to put her home and her life back to right again.

As Rick turned and walked his dog outside, Mallory followed him to the porch and waited until he started down the sidewalk. When he finally reached the street, she reentered the house and closed the door. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief.

Of course, she wasn’t foolish enough to think that the relief would last very long. If Rick lived nearby, which he apparently did, eventually they’d run into each other again. And one of these days he’d undoubtedly cross paths with Lucas.

She had no idea what Rick would think, what he’d say, how he’d react when she finally told him about the amazing chain of events that had occurred since she’d left Brighton Valley—if she actually said anything to him about them at all.

She might be older and wiser, but for the second time in ten years, Mallory feared what the future would bring.

* * *

It wasn’t every day that a guy ran into the girl who’d broken his heart as a teenager, so to say that Rick had been surprised to see that Mallory Dickinson was back in Brighton Valley and living just down the street was a no-brainer.

He’d been sucker punched by the sight of her, by the shoulder-length blond hair that was just as glossy as he remembered, by the big green eyes that had grown even more expressive over the years, by the knockout shape that was far more womanly than when she’d been an innocent teenage girl and he’d been an angry, rebellious teenager on a fast track to nowhere.

Back then, he’d had a chip on his shoulder a mile wide—due in large part to all the times he’d had to change schools. He’d just transferred to Brighton Valley High at the end of his junior year, and he’d been tempted to drop out. But when he met Mallory in the high school cafeteria, he’d been slammed with a classic case of puppy love for a real-life good girl who attended church, even when it wasn’t Sunday.

The beautiful college-bound blonde and a full-blown zap of adolescent hormones had done what the teachers, guidance counselors and school psychologist had never been able to do—get him to knuckle down and study. And before he knew it, he was getting his homework done, acing tests and avoiding detention.

He might have complained to his friends about the fact that Mallory had him toeing the line, but he really hadn’t minded. For once in his life, someone really cared about him and what his future held.

But then again, things weren’t always what they seemed. Whatever he’d felt for Mallory had blown up in his face, leaving him hurt beyond measure and once again shut out by someone he’d thought he loved, someone who’d claimed to have loved him.

Buddy tugged at the leash, and Rick held him steady. “What am I going to do with you, boy? You have to stop jumping the fence and digging out of the yard.”

Across the street, coming out of Alice Reilly’s house, a dark-haired boy trotted down the porch steps. Rick hadn’t noticed him in the neighborhood before. But Alice was always taking in strays of one kind or another—just like Rick did, only hers had two legs instead of four.

“Hey,” the boy called out to him. “Nice dog. What’s his name?”

“Buddy.”

“Can I pet him?”

“Sure.” Rick held the dog steady while the boy jogged to the gate, then let himself out of Alice’s picket-fenced yard.

Buddy was one of Rick’s rescue animals. He’d been brought to the veterinary clinic by a couple of college students who’d found him abandoned by the side of the road and knew he would die without medical help. Buddy, who’d been malnourished, dehydrated and septic from an infected leg wound, was barely alive when the kids had dropped him off.

Rick had told them to leave the dog with him, knowing he’d probably never see any payment. He’d never seen the college kids again, either.

In the meantime, after Buddy responded to the antibiotics and treatment, Rick moved him from the clinic to the rescue yard, planning to find him a new home. But it soon became apparent that the rambunctious Buddy would need some obedience training before he was ready to become a real family pet. Otherwise, whoever adopted him might give up on him and abandon him to a shelter because of his rascally ways.

As the boy ruffled the dog’s head, Buddy gave him a sloppy kiss, which caused the kid to laugh. “He likes me.”

“I can see that.”

“I sure wish I had a dog,” the boy said.

“Oh, yeah? Well, it just so happens that Buddy is looking for a home.”

“No kidding?” The boy looked up at him with big, blue eyes, reminding him of one of those trusting expressions Joey, his kid brother, used to flash at him years ago. “You mean Buddy doesn’t live with you?”

“He lives with me, but only until I can find him a home with a real family.”

“Wow. That would be way cool to have a dog of my own. I always wanted one, but when we lived in the city, my dad said it wouldn’t be fair to an animal to keep him cooped up inside all day long. But now I live in a house with a yard.”

A squeaky screen door swung open, and Alice Reilly stepped onto her porch. “Oh, there you are, Lucas. I see you’ve met Dr. Martinez.”

The boy, who’d been looking over his shoulder at Alice, turned back to Rick. “You’re a doctor?”

“Yes. Actually, I’m a veterinarian.”

“Cool. Just like Dr. Doolittle, huh? Buddy’s lucky to have you.”

Rick laughed. “Apparently Buddy isn’t so sure about that. He’s still trying to decide if there’s a better place he’d rather live. Otherwise he’d stay in the yard or on the leash.”

“If I can get permission, I’d like to keep him,” Lucas said. “We might need a need a bigger, better fence, though.”

Rick studied the kid for a moment, noting his short, dark brown hair and the cowlick that grew much like his own. His blue eyes were also a little unusual in those with a darker skin tone. But then again, Rick had Hispanic blood and blue eyes. It happened. He credited his olive complexion to his old man and one of his blue-eyed genes to his Norwegian mother.

Talk about mismatched couples. Rick had given up trying to figure out why his parents had gotten married in the first place, let alone why they’d stuck together long enough to make everyone around them miserable.

He’d always found genetics interesting, but psychology had never been one of his favorite subjects. Maybe because his family had been so screwed up and it would have given the most gifted therapist a headache to try and figure out a way to straighten them out.

Rick glanced across the street at the house where Mallory had just moved in, then back at Lucas.

No, it couldn’t be. Mallory was as honest as the day was long. She wouldn’t have deceived him like that and not said a word about it. Besides, the boy—Lucas—had mentioned having a dad and referred to his parents. And Mallory wasn’t married. At least, she hadn’t been wearing a ring—Rick had checked.

Still, he’d have to find time to talk to her one of these days. There were a few things he’d like to ask her, like why she’d quit taking his calls. And why she hadn’t come back to Brighton Valley when she’d said she would.

If they were going to be neighbors, they’d be running into each other on occasion. And it might be best to address some of that stuff and get it out of the way so they could each move on with their lives and not be uncomfortable around each other.

He’d have to stop by her house another time, when he didn’t have Buddy to worry about.

He’d told her he’d come back and help clean up Buddy’s mess, which would give them an opportunity to talk then. But she’d been pretty adamant about doing it herself. Maybe they both needed to put some time and distance between them until they got used to the idea that they were going to be neighbors.

“Well, I’d better get home,” he told Lucas and Alice. “It’s feeding time at the zoo.”

“You have a zoo?” the boy asked, his eyes growing even wider than before.

Rick laughed. “It feels that way sometimes, but no, it’s not a real zoo. I do have quite a few rescued pets, though. Maybe Alice will bring you to visit someday.”

“Will you, Mrs. Reilly?” Lucas turned to the gray-haired woman, reminding Rick that polite kids didn’t call their elders by their first names. Then again, he’d never had lessons in courtesy when he’d been growing up.

“I’d be happy to,” Alice told Lucas. “That is, as long as our visit is at a convenient time for Dr. Martinez.”

After saying goodbye, Rick took one last glance across the street at Mallory’s new digs before taking Buddy home.

All the while, his thoughts drifted to the baby he and Mallory had conceived, the child they’d given up for adoption. He had no idea if the baby had been a boy or a girl, but he thought about it a lot, especially when he spotted a kid about the age their baby would be now.

He hoped that he or she had ended up with better parents and a much better home than Rick and his brother Joey’d had. The fear that he might not have been able to offer the poor kid much better was the only thing that had forced him to sign the papers and lose all ties to his son or daughter.

Well, that and the fact that Mallory and her grandparents hadn’t left him with any other options.

* * *

That night, after dinner was over and Lucas had bathed, Mallory took her own shower and slipped into her nightgown. Then she grabbed a book from one of the boxes she’d yet to unpack and went to the living room before going to bed.

She hadn’t even read three paragraphs when a knock sounded at the front door.

Who could that be?

A new neighbor, welcoming her to Brighton Valley? It was nearly eight and pretty late for a visit like that. She set aside the novel, got to her feet and headed for the door.

“Yes?” she asked before reaching for the knob.

“Mallory, its Rick Martinez.”

At the familiar sound of his voice, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

She had no idea how long she stood there, wondering what to say, what to do.

“Are you there?” he asked.

Well, there was no getting around it, she supposed. So she took a deep breath, then slowly blew it out before unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door to see what he wanted.

Tonight, standing under the porch light and wearing a pair of worn denim jeans and a black T-shirt, he didn’t appear anywhere near as conservative as he had earlier. In fact, he reminded her of the rebellious teen she’d once known.

His hair was still damp, as though he, too, had just stepped out of the shower.

“I hope it’s not too late.” His gaze moved from her eyes, to her lips, to her throat and lower, before making its way back to her face.

She’d been so caught up in the way he filled out his T-shirt, in the realization that he still resembled a rebel, either with or without a cause, that she’d forgotten the fact that she was only wearing a flimsy, lightweight robe over a thin cotton gown.

“I...uh...” She fiddled with the lapel, tugging at it, hoping her nipples didn’t show through the soft and comfy but well-worn fabric.

“There are a few things I wanted to talk to you about,” he said. “I think it’ll make running into each other a little easier from now on.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Yes, I know. And you’re probably right. But now really isn’t a good time.”

“Why?”

There were plenty of reasons. For one thing, she’d been harboring the pain of their breakup for years and had put it behind her. Why stir things up now?

And if that wasn’t enough, Lucas was upstairs, although he’d been so quiet that he might have fallen asleep.

But mostly she didn’t want to enter any kind of discussion with Rick Martinez while she was dressed in her nightgown, especially since he’d always made her a little uneasy.

He’d also had a way of exciting her, too, and apparently none of that had changed.

Everything else in her life had, though. She’d kicked the dangerous Rick Martinez addiction years ago.

She had a new man in her life now, a stockbroker who cared enough about her to ask his investment firm to transfer him to their Wexler office so they could be together.

Brian Winslow didn’t stir her blood the way Rick once had, but they were mature adults. They were also better suited to each other, with common interests and goals—things that made for an enduring relationship.

Rick’s gaze swept over her again, sending her already thumping heart topsy-turvy. She tried to ignore the power he still held over her, hoping that once he’d said what he came to say that it would all go away. That he’d go away.

But she wasn’t dressed for company, and even if she was, did she want to invite him in and make things more awkward between them than she had to?

She’d never expected Rick to stay in Brighton Valley, especially since she’d known how humiliated he’d been when his uncle had been arrested and convicted for assault after beating his aunt unconscious.

She knew, once he’d turned eighteen, Rick had only stuck around because of her. At least, that’s what he’d told her back then.

“I...uh... It’s not a good time,” she said, using the door as a shield, “but if you’d like to come back tomorrow, that would be okay.”

He didn’t make a move toward leaving, and that same awkward silence stretched before them again.

For a moment, the memories came rolling back, along with the sexual awareness that swarmed around them like lightning bugs in a Mason jar.

What she needed was a diversion.

But the one she got wasn’t the one she wanted.

“Hey, Mom,” Lucas called from the upstairs landing. “Where did you put my Star Wars Lego set? Is it still in one of the boxes? Or did we forget to bring it when we moved?”

His footsteps sounded as he padded downstairs, and her heart belly flopped into the pit of her stomach. Her whole world was going to blow sky high the moment Rick spotted Lucas.

After all, he’d have to be blind not to see what she saw each time she looked at the boy.

Lucas was the spitting image of Rick Martinez.

Chapter Two

The moment Rick heard Mallory’s son call out from the top landing, reality slammed into him like a horse hoof to the chest.

He’d wanted to shove open the door and push past her, but he didn’t need to. The boy had enough curiosity for the two of them. Within several pounding heartbeats, he joined his mother at the door.

There stood Lucas, the kid Rick had met earlier, the boy with blue eyes and a cowlick like Rick’s.

Of course, Rick might be connecting imaginary genetic dots, but how likely was that?

“Hey! Dr. Martinez. Where’s Buddy?”

Rick’s first instinct was to launch into an interrogation of Mallory, but he needed to control his gut reaction. Why take out his anger and frustration on the poor kid?

“I’m afraid I left Buddy at home this evening,” he said.

Mallory, her eyes wary, her cheeks flushed, looked as if she’d just picked up the wrong end of a hot branding iron. She glanced at Rick, then at the boy. Her son. “I didn’t realize you two had met.”

Apparently not. Would she have mentioned anything about even having a son if the boy hadn’t come downstairs?

“We met today,” Lucas said. “While I was at Mrs. Reilly’s house.”

Mallory took a deep breath, then slowly let it out, clearly at a loss and probably trying to buy time in order to gather her thoughts—or maybe to fabricate a lie.

How about that? If there was one thing he could say about Mallory Dickinson, at least the Mallory he’d once known, it was that she was as honest as the day was long.

But it didn’t take a brain surgeon to see the writing on the wall. She’d kept the baby she was supposed to have given up for adoption, and she’d let more than nine years go by without telling him.

Betrayal gnawed at his gut, and anger flared in a swirl of ugly colors. He ought to challenge her right here and now, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it in front of the boy. Apparently, she no longer saw a reason to bar him from entering the house because she stepped away from the door and allowed him in.

“Lucas called you a doctor,” she said, arching a delicate brow.

The fact that she found it surprising that Rick had actually made good ought to set him off further, although that was pretty minor in the scheme of things.

Still, he couldn’t quite mask his annoyance in his response. “I’m a veterinarian. My clinic is just down the street.”

As she mulled that over, Lucas sidled up to Rick wearing a bright-eyed grin. “Did you come to ask my mom about Buddy?”

No, the dog was the last thing he’d come to talk to Mallory about. And while he hadn’t been sure just how the conversation was going to unfold when he arrived, it had just taken a sudden and unexpected turn.

“Why would he come to talk to me about his dog?” Mallory asked her son.

Or rather their son. Who else could the boy be?

Rick’s emotions, which he’d learned to keep in check over the years, spun around like a whirligig, and he was hard pressed to snatch just one on which he could focus.

Lucas, whose smile indicated that he was completely oblivious to the tension building between the adults, approached Mallory. “Because Buddy needs a home. And since we have a yard now, can I have him? Please? I promise to take care of him and walk him and everything. You won’t have to do anything.”

Mallory drew a hand to her chest, just below her throat where her pulse fluttered. “You want a dog? I don’t know about that.”

“Why not?” the boy asked.

She seemed to ponder the question, then said, “We’ll have to talk about it later. However, to answer your question about the Legos, I put them on the shelf in the linen closet just outside your bedroom.”

“Okay. Thanks.” He flashed Rick a smile, then turned and headed toward the stairs.

As Lucas was leaving, Rick’s gaze traveled from the boy to Mallory and back again.

Finally, when he and Mallory were alone, Rick folded his arms across his chest, shifted his weight to one hip and gave her a pointed look.

“Cute kid,” he said.

Mallory flushed brighter still, and she wiped her palms along her hips, tugging at the fabric of her robe.

Nervous, huh? Rick’s internal B.S. detector slipped into overdrive.

Well, she ought to be.

When he’d found out about her pregnancy, he’d only been seventeen, but he’d offered to quit school, get a job and marry her.

However, her grandparents had decided that she was too young and convinced her that giving her child up for adoption was the only way to go. So they’d sent her to Boston to live with her Aunt Carrie until the birth.

Yet in spite of what she’d promised him when she left, she hadn’t come back to Brighton Valley. And within six months’ time, he’d lost all contact with her. She might blame some of that on him, but he didn’t see it that way.

Either way, she’d had a change of heart about the adoption. And about the feelings she’d claimed she’d had for him.

At the thought of Mallory’s deception, something rose up inside of him, something dark and ugly and juvenile, something that reminded him that he might always be prone to bad genetics and a lousy upbringing. But he tamped it down, as he’d learned to do in recent years, and glared at the woman he’d once loved instead.

As a teenager, Mallory had attended church regularly. Now she stood warily in the center of her living room looking as guilty as sin.

“Excuse me for being blunt,” Rick finally said, “but your son looks a lot like my brother Joey did as a kid.”

“It’s not what you think.”

What he thought was that she’d lied to him, that she’d kept their baby. Was she saying that she hadn’t?

“If I’m off base, suppose you set me straight.”

She glanced upstairs. “Not here. Not tonight.”

Rick wasn’t sure if Lucas could hear their conversation or not. But she was right. Any further discussion ought to be done in private.

“All right,” he said. “Another time. Preferably tomorrow. You tell me when.”

“I...” She bit down on her lip, then glanced upstairs again. “I have a job interview at two o’clock and have already lined up Alice Reilly to babysit. I’ll ask her to keep Lucas longer. Would that work for you? We can meet here in the late afternoon.”

He had a pretty full schedule at the clinic tomorrow, as well as a couple of minor surgeries. “That’s fine, as long as it’s after five.”

“Okay.” She started for the door, signaling that it was time for him to leave.

All right. He’d go for now.

Mallory might have shut him out of her life when they were teenagers, deciding she’d rather raise their son on her own, but a lot of things had happened since she’d been gone. A lot had changed.

When Rick stepped out of the house, she closed the door behind him, shutting him out once again, it seemed.

But he was going to get to the bottom of this once and for all. He intended to learn more about the baby they’d conceived.

And about the boy who looked like Rick and who called Mallory Mom.

* * *

“Excuse me, Dr. Martinez. But there’s a lady and a little boy asking to see you. She said her name is Alice Reilly and that you told them to stop by.”

Rick, who’d just placed a plastic cone on a German shepherd’s head so he couldn’t chew at his sutures, glanced up at Kara Dobbins, his receptionist. “They’re here? Now?”

“Should I tell them to come back another time?”

Rick glanced at his wristwatch. It was 2:25. “Is there anyone in the waiting room?”

“Just Mrs. Reilly and the boy. Tom Randall called and cancelled his two-thirty appointment. He said Duke seems to be doing much better today.”

“Tell them I’ll be right there. I need to put Samson back in the kennel until the Hendersons come to pick him up.”

“I can do that for you,” Kara said.

Rick knew he’d told Alice she could bring Lucas to visit the clinic, but he hadn’t expected them to show up so soon. Besides, he’d hoped to have that talk with Mallory first. But apparently that wasn’t to be. So he’d have to keep his rising suspicion at bay and play things by ear.

When he entered the waiting room, Lucas, who’d been sitting next to Alice, jumped to his feet. “Hi, Dr. Martinez. Thanks for letting us come see your office and all the animals.”

“I hope this isn’t a bad time,” Alice said. “I really hadn’t meant to bring Lucas today, but he was so insistent.”

“That’s fine,” Rick said. “Come with me. I’ll show you around.”

After a tour of the exam rooms, as well as the hospital boarding area, where Lucas met several of the recovering furry patients, Rick showed him the pharmacy area and the lab. He then let them peer through the glass window into the operating room.

“When I grow up,” Lucas said, “I’d like to be a veterinarian, too.”

An unexpected sense of pride surged through Rick. Apparently they both shared a love of animals. Did they share anything else?

It’s not what you think, Mallory had said.

Oh, no? Then, if Lucas wasn’t Rick’s son, what had happened to their baby? Had she given it up as she’d said she was going to do? And if so, why did the boy look more like a Martinez than a Dickinson?

According to what Lucas had told Rick yesterday, he had a father. When we lived in the city, my dad said it wouldn’t be fair to an animal to keep him cooped up inside all day long.

So who had Mallory married? Did he look like Rick? Did he have dark hair and an olive complexion?

Were they still together? Had he moved to Brighton Valley with her?

Rick didn’t think so. She hadn’t been wearing a ring yesterday. He’d checked again last night. When she’d stood behind the door—hid behind it was more like it—he’d checked out her left hand again. And just as it had been earlier, her ring finger had been bare.

Is that why she’d moved home? For a fresh start?

Probably so. That’s why she’d gone to Boston and stayed there, wasn’t it? To put Rick behind her?

Alice’s voice drew Rick from his musing. “I think you’d make a good veterinarian, Lucas. How good are you in math and science?”

“Pretty good, I guess.”

Before Alice could respond, her cell phone rang. She pulled it from her purse and checked the lighted display. “Uh-oh. This is a dear friend whose husband is having some serious health issues. I need to speak to her, Doctor. Would you mind if I left Lucas with you and talked to her in private?”

“No, go ahead.”

As Alice stepped through the door that led to the waiting room, Lucas sidled up to Rick. “Where do you keep Buddy?”

“He’s in the back, near where I live. Come on. I’ll show you.” Rick took Lucas out the door that led to the yard enclosed by a chain-link fence.

As they made their way to the gate, Rick said, “I used to let Buddy have the run of the yard, but he kept jumping over the fence.”

“He must be a supergood jumper,” Lucas said.

“Yes, he is. So I had to lock him in one of the dog runs now, which he doesn’t like, but I can’t trust him to play in the yard without supervision.”

Buddy barked when he spotted them, then wiggled his rump and wagged his tail like crazy. The boy and dog sure seemed to have hit it off. But then, that’s the way it was with kids and pets.

But kids and adults?

That wasn’t always the case.

Maybe it was best that Rick wasn’t the boy’s father. How the hell would he ever relate to him? He hadn’t had any kind of role model growing up. Of course, even if the boy was his—and Mallory certainly had implied that he wasn’t—Rick didn’t have to become any kind of SuperDad. Maybe he could just be a friend or a mentor, like Detective Hank Lazaro had been to him.

If Hank hadn’t come along when he had and seen something worthwhile in Rick, something that was salvageable and worth tapping into, no telling where Rick would have ended up.

In jail or dead, he supposed.

Either way, that didn’t mean Rick wasn’t curious about the man who’d replaced him in Mallory’s life.

He’d save his big questions for her, but it wouldn’t hurt to quiz Lucas a bit—just a few random things that wouldn’t seem unusual for a neighbor to ask.

“Hey, Lucas,” he said. “I have a question for you. Yesterday, when we were talking in front of Mrs. Reilly’s house, you mentioned that your dad wouldn’t let you have a dog when you lived in the city.”

“Yeah, we had a big brick house but no yard. Now we have a little house and a big yard.”

They downsized, huh? “What does your dad do for a living?”

“He was a teacher, but he died when I was seven.”

Oops. Rick hadn’t seen that coming. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, me, too. People said it was a blessing when he died, since he was so sick. But I don’t know about that. I mean, why’d he have to get cancer in the first place?”

Rick, who had never been much of a churchgoer except for a couple of times with Mallory when he’d been stuck on her as a teenager, didn’t have an answer. And he knew enough not to try and blow heavenly smoke.

No answer had to be better than a wrong one, right?

“I know he’s in Heaven now,” Lucas added. “And that he has a brand-new body, with hair again and everything. So that’s good. But I still wish he was here with me. Know what I mean?”

“Yes, I do.”

Rick didn’t especially like the idea that Mallory had met another man that she’d fallen in love with, a guy she’d decided would make a much better husband and father than Rick would have made. But apparently the guy had been good to Lucas, so Rick was grateful for that.

And he was truly sorry the kid had had to lose his father, especially since the boy had obviously cared deeply for him.

As Rick opened the latch on the gate, Buddy let out a howl. The minute he was out of the dog run, he rushed out to greet Lucas as though the two were long lost friends.

“You missed me,” Lucas said, ruffling the fur on Buddy’s neck. “Didn’t you, boy.”

Buddy gave him a wet, sloppy lick.

As Rick watched the two wrestle and play on the grass, it was hard to guess who was happier—the kid or the dog.

“So, tell me something,” Rick said. “What was your dad like?”

“He was just a regular guy, but really nice. Know what I mean?” When Rick nodded, Lucas continued. “He worked at my school and would have been my fourth-grade teacher this year, but he died. So then I had to have Mrs. Callaway instead. And she’s cranky and yells all the time.”

“I guess it’s lucky that you moved to Brighton Valley then. I hear the teachers are much better here.” Rick, of course, had heard no such thing, but he wanted to say something to make the kid feel better, although he’d never been very good at stuff like that.

“Dr. Martinez?” Kara called from the doorway to the clinic. “Fred Ames is here with Nugget.”

“I’ll be right there.” Rick strode over to where Buddy was playing with Lucas and grabbed the dog’s collar. “I’m afraid I need to go back to work now, so we’ll have to put Buddy back into his pen.”

“Aw, man. That’s too bad. Poor Buddy. I’d hate to live in a cage like that.”

So would Rick. In fact, the idea of spending his life in confinement made him think about his uncle, who’d ended up in prison after the last time his drunken rage had turned violent. The neighbors had called the cops, and his aunt had spent a week in the hospital. The state had stepped in, finally, sending Rick and Joey, his younger brother, into foster care.

The whole thing had been pretty embarrassing, since it had been in the local newspaper. Rick had often thought that Mallory’s conservative grandfather, a minister, had decided Rick wasn’t good enough for Mallory because they figured he would grow up to be like the other men in his family.

To be honest, that was one of the reasons Rick hadn’t wanted to settle down, get married and have kids. He’d worried about it a bit, too. Hell, even Joey had run away and cut all ties to everyone who bore a drop of Martinez blood, including Rick.

A couple of years ago, Rick had hired a P.I. and tried to find his kid brother, but it was as if Joey hadn’t wanted to be found. He’d pretty much vanished.

Unless, of course, he was dead.

Rick raked a hand through his hair. At times like this, when the memories haunted him, he wondered if he’d really turned his life around or not. Maybe on the outside he had. But on the inside, he feared that he was still the same troubled little boy who’d been knocked around by his old man and called a loser more times than he could count, abandoned by his parents, left to the care of an alcoholic uncle and finally turned over to the state foster system until his eighteenth birthday.

After putting Buddy back in the dog run and locking the gate, Rick and Lucas headed back to the clinic, while Buddy complained with howls and barks.

“I feel bad for him,” Lucas said.

So did Rick, which was why he took Buddy for a run each evening and why he let him sleep in the house at night.

Buddy was a free spirit, a lot like Rick. He wasn’t cut out to live in a kennel or crate. But if he didn’t get his frisky behavior in check, he wouldn’t be cut out to be a family pet, either.

Maybe that’s why Rick had taken such a liking to the stray, why he’d felt inclined to keep him until he could find a suitable home for him.

Because in some ways, Rick and Buddy were alike. Loners who shouldn’t tempt fate.

* * *

Mallory’s job interview, which had been at the Brighton Valley Medical Center, had gone well, and she suspected the HR director would be calling her for a follow-up interview in the next few days. She had all the qualifications they were looking for in the social worker position, as well as experience at a renowned Boston clinic. In addition to the professional references, she’d also listed a few notable locals, including the former Wexler district attorney, who’d been her grandfather’s golfing buddy.

Speaking of Grandpa, she hadn’t gotten by to visit him yet today, so she’d have to call him this evening. When she’d told him her plans to adopt Lucas, he’d been a little apprehensive at first, but he seemed to understand. She wasn’t sure how much he’d told his friends and associates yet. Alice Reilly knew, so she assumed others did, too.

She still hadn’t introduced the two of them. With Grandpa’s health what it was, she wasn’t sure how taxing that initial visit might be on him. She was also concerned about the effect an awkward meeting would have on her son.

Lucas knew the Dunlops had loved him from the start. They’d chosen him. He’d been their dream-come-true baby.

The adoption, while open, was also child-focused. So Lucas had always known Mallory was his birth mother. But he’d been calling her by her first name ever since he’d learned how to talk, and she’d come to expect it, to appreciate it. Up until his adoptive mother had died, the two of them had a relationship that had been more been more like aunt and nephew.

Just recently, their relationship had begun to change, though, and he’d starting to call her Mom—like he had last night. And she couldn’t be happier. But it was all so new, so fragile.

Mallory loved Lucas, and he knew it. But he also knew that she’d given him up to the Dunlops when he was a newborn. She hadn’t wanted him to think that she hadn’t loved him. Or that she hadn’t wanted to be his mother. So she’d let him think that at least part of it had been due to her youth and her obedience to her grandfather’s wishes.

Every day she did her best to let him know, one way or another, that she’d never give him up again. That she loved him more than life itself. And he seemed to believe her—thank God, because she meant it from the bottom of her heart.

She was proud of the child he’d become. And she knew her grandfather would be proud of him, too—given the chance. When the two finally met, she wanted everything to be...perfect. And it would be. Soon.

After unlocking the front door, she let herself into the living room. It was nearly five o’clock, and Rick would be coming soon. She wasn’t looking forward to their little chat, but he’d been right. The sooner they got it over with, the better.

She left her purse and heels at the stairs, planning to take them to her bedroom later. Then she went to the kitchen, her bare feet padding softly on the cool hardwood floor. She’d no more than poured herself a glass of iced tea when the doorbell rang. That had to be Rick. She took several refreshing swallows, then left the half-full glass on the counter and went to let him in.

As she opened the door, her heart scampered through her chest at the sight of him. He appeared professional again, in a pair of dark slacks and a white button-down shirt. Yet his hair was a bit mussed and rebellious, his eyes wary, his lips still sporting the hint of a scowl.

Would she ever know which Rick she’d meet on any given day?

“Come in,” she said, stepping aside so he could enter. “And have a seat.”

He slowly sauntered toward the sofa and sat down.

Mallory glanced down at her bare feet, at the pink polish on her toes, but she could feel his eyes on her, angry, hurt.

She didn’t like disappointing people, failing them. And while she’d done her best to make up for the one big mistake she’d made ten years ago, here was Rick, stabbing at her guilt and stirring up the old memories, the emotions all over again.

When she looked up, her gaze met his. She saw the accusation in his eyes. You lied to me.

He must have read the answer in her own because he shook his head and said, “You told me you were giving our child up so I’d sign those forms and relinquish custody.”

“I did give him up.”

“But Lucas looks just like me. And he called you Mom.”

When he’d recently begun to call her Mom it had warmed her heart to know that their relationship had truly begun to morph into the real deal. But now, she found herself having to explain why something so good, so sweet, wasn’t a bad thing.

“I told you that I was going to ask for an open adoption, remember? I even mentioned Sue and Gary Dunlop, the couple who adopted him. She was a nurse, and he was a fourth-grade teacher. They’d been married for nearly fifteen years, and while they’d tried for a long time, they couldn’t have kids. You would have loved them, Rick. They were awesome. Sue taught Sunday school at their church, and Gary used to coach Little League and soccer. I couldn’t have chosen better people to raise Lucas.”

His expression, once hard, seemed to soften a bit, yet doubt still troubled his eyes. “Lucas told me his dad died, but I assumed he meant your husband.”

“No, he was talking about Gary.” Mallory’s eyes filled with tears, just as they always did when she thought of the unfairness of it all, and her voice wobbled when she spoke. “Gary was diagnosed with cancer when Lucas was in first grade. He died a year later.”

Rick raked a hand through his hair, mussing it all the more. “And Sue?”

Mallory opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn’t form right away. If truth be told, she and Sue had grown really close over the years. Sue had become the big sister Mallory had never had, the mother figure she’d lost as an adolescent. The best friend she might never replace.

“Sue was...” Mallory cleared her throat, hoping the lingering grief would allow her to get the story out. “She died in a car accident last year.”

When Rick didn’t comment, she went on to explain. “After Gary died, Sue was concerned about what would happen to Lucas if she passed away. Neither she nor Gary had any close family—at least, not any they wanted to raise their son. So she asked me if I’d be his guardian if the unthinkable should happen.”

“And so you told her okay.”

“Of course. I love Lucas. And I loved Sue and Gary, too. I never really thought anything would happen to either of them, and when it did, I was as crushed as he was. It’s been tough on both Lucas and me, but we’re making the best of it.”

She glanced across the room at Rick, watching him, gauging his reaction. He remained silent for so long, she finally said, “You’re not saying anything.”

“Yes, I know. It’s a lot to think about. And I’m not sure how I feel. Confused and overwhelmed, I guess. But in a way, I feel cheated.”

“Why is that? You agreed to give him up.”

Those blue eyes struck something deep inside of her, setting her heart on end. “I offered to marry you, Mallory.”

“We were kids, Rick. You had no job. No way of supporting us. You were living with another family back then. Remember?”

“I know, but I was willing to do whatever I had to.”

Mallory crossed her arms. “And if we’d gotten married when we were teenagers, where would we be now?”

He shrugged. “Who the hell knows?”

She waited a beat, then asked, “So now what?”

He blew out a breath. “In some ways, I have no more to offer Lucas now than I did ten years ago, Mallory. I have no idea how to be a father. My old man used to beat me, that is, when he cared enough to come home. And when he was sober enough to stand up. And then, he took off one day and never came back.

“My uncle was better, at least to me and my brother. But when he drank, he used to abuse my aunt. You know all that. So my family history sucks. Yet now that Lucas is here in Brighton Valley, now that I’ve met him, I’d like the chance to get to know him. And I want him to know me.”

“Fair enough.” She got to her feet, deciding to put on her social worker hat for the time being. After all, she wasn’t so sure how to coparent with a guy like Rick, either. Or how he’d fit into her life after all these years. “Why don’t we take things slow and easy? We can both let things simmer, then talk more about it later.”

He pondered that for a moment. “I suppose that makes sense. I need to sort things out, too. How much time are you suggesting?”

“I’m not sure. Weeks. Maybe months.”

“Why so long?”

“Parenting is a big deal. I’ve never had to do it full-time. And neither have you. Lucas has been through so much recently, and he has a lot to sort through. I’m not sure introducing you to him as his birth father is a good idea right now.”

Rick stiffened. “Why not?”

“Well, because...” She took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Losing his parents was hard on him. And then there was the move. He left everything that was familiar, so it’s all been a big adjustment for him. And for me, too.”

“You don’t want him to know who I am?”

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because... Let’s just say it’s complicated.”

Rick crossed his arms. “How so?”

“I... Well, Gary and Sue were always very honest with him. And when he asked me about his biological father...I... Well, I don’t want him to think that I lied to him.”

“Why would he think that?”

Mallory shifted in her chair. At the time, when he’d asked about his biological dad, she’d given him the kindest, most logical response she could give a child. But in retrospect, she’d made a mistake. She just wasn’t sure how to backpedal at this point without making things worse.

Finally, Rick said, “I hope you didn’t tell him that I didn’t want to marry you. I wanted to, remember? Of course, I now have to admit that your grandfather was right. I didn’t have a dime to my name and probably wouldn’t have been a good husband and father, although I would have tried. But for the record, you were the one who was responsible for losing contact. You stopped taking my calls.”

“You can’t blame me for that. Giving up the baby was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I told you how badly I wanted an open adoption, and you refused to even consider it. In fact, you were adamant. You said that I could either bring the baby home, or leave it in Boston. But if I left it, not to even bother telling you if it was a boy or a girl.”

Rick raked a hand through his hair. “I had a hot temper back then. And I was trying to force your hand. The only reason I didn’t want an open adoption with a kid living in Boston, when I was dirt-poor and living in Texas, was because I’d never see him. So fatherhood was an all-or-nothing thing for me. I figured you’d see motherhood that way, too.”

“I’m sorry, Rick. I didn’t know where you were coming from.”

“You could have asked.”

Maybe she should have. Clamming up had always been his first line of defense, but she’d been too hurt to care about his feelings.

“You know,” he said, “that really sucks, Mal.”

What did? The fact that they’d both been too young, immature and ill-prepared to deal with the kind of situation a pregnancy had caused? To be honest, even now, with her education and maturity, she still felt a little out of her league when parenting a boy who’d lost so much in such a few short years.

“I can’t believe you’d do that,” Rick said.

Apparently, they weren’t both on the same page. “Do what?”

“Let Lucas think that I didn’t want him.”

At that, Mallory leaned forward. “Oh, my gosh, Rick. I’d never tell him something like that. For one thing, that would have crushed him.”

Rick settled back into the sofa cushion as if relieved. Then, almost as quickly, he straightened up again. “Then what did you tell him?”

“I told him—” Mallory paused for a beat, hating to admit it, then pressed on “—that you died.”

Rick’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Why in the hell did you tell him that?”

She hadn’t meant to lie, but she’d thought about it over the years. And she’d realized that something innocent and fragile had died inside her when Rick had signed those adoption papers and told her to do whatever she wanted. Then, when she’d had to choose between staying in Boston to be near Lucas or returning to Brighton Valley and Rick, she’d had to bury whatever memories they’d once had—and any hope of a future together.

“At the time it seemed like the easiest way to explain your absence in our lives. Besides, I wasn’t sure what had happened to you. I knew that Joey ran away. And given the rumors I’d heard about the fights you’d been involved in and all the drinking, I’d assumed the same thing had happened to you.” She almost mentioned his uncle’s trial and conviction, but decided to let that ride for now.

Rick stretched his arm out across the back of her sofa. “Listen, Mallory. I’ll admit that I got into a lot of trouble after you left Brighton Valley, but when you didn’t come back home like you said you would and wouldn’t return my calls, I fell into my old habits. In fact, without you in school, I couldn’t see any point in being there, either, so I dropped out before Thanksgiving.”

She ought to feel a bit justified at the anger she’d carried for years, yet a surge of sympathy shot through her instead, urging her to rise up from her chair, and sit next to him, under his outstretched arm... To lean her head against his shoulder, to caress his knee, to offer words of compassion....

What was wrong with her?

Ten years had passed since she’d last seen him, and yet she still found herself struggling with those same old urges, those same yearnings, those same... What? Feelings?

No, not those. Not anymore. She was no longer a foolish and gullible teenager blinded by his charm.

“So you dropped out of school, and that’s my fault?”

Rick’s brow furrowed, and his eye twitched. “Yeah, well, back then, I blamed you.”

“You don’t now?”

“Not for me dropping out of school. That was my own choice, but I rectified it.” Rick placed his hand on the sofa’s armrest, then stood. “I’m going to go before we both say things that would be better left unsaid. But just so you know, I’m going to respect your wishes and keep my true identity under wraps for the time being.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“But don’t take too long figuring out a comfortable way to set him straight.”

“I’ll do my best.” She got to her feet, too. “Thank you for understanding.”

They merely stood there for a moment. Then Rick moved a couple paces forward, reached for her hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze with a firm grip, sending a bevy of goose bumps fluttering up her arms. “You’ve got a week, Mallory.”

Then he released her hand, leaving her in the middle of the living room as he headed for the door.

A week? She wasn’t sure she was following him. “You mean...?”

As he opened the front door, he turned and glanced over his shoulder. His gaze locked onto hers. “You have one week—seven days—to resurrect me.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll tell Lucas myself.”

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