Книга - Another Woman’s Son

Another Woman's Son
Anna Adams


Whose baby is he?Three months ago, Isabel Baker's life came crashing down after her husband confessed he'd fallen in love with another woman–her sister–and that they'd had a child together.Then tragedy strikes, and Isabel's sister and husband are killed, leaving baby Tony with just her sister's husband, Ben. Now Isabel is faced with a terrible decision. Telling the truth would mean taking Tony from the only father he's ever known, but how can she possibly lie?She's shocked to discover that Ben doesn't have any such qualms. He's determined to keep what remains of his family intact–no matter what. Which is why he's trying to convince Isabel that together they could make the perfect parents for Tony….









“I would have happily divorced Will.”


After searching for a tissue, Isabel continued, “And told Faith I never wanted to see her again, but I didn’t want them dead. Do you?”

“I’m not sure.” He wasn’t sure about anything. Faith had left a note before she’d driven away with Will. She’d claimed Will had turned to her for comfort because Isabel had rejected him. If not for Isabel, they’d never have grown close enough to fall in love.

Even if that was true, was their adultery really Isabel’s fault? Shouldn’t Will have fought for his marriage? Ben had known he and Faith had problems, but he’d never considered divorce.

Shutting Isabel’s door, he walked along the side of the car. His best friend had made love with his wife and created the baby who slept in a crib down the hall.

And Isabel had known. With a few words, she could take his son for her family. He imagined himself in her place, watching her mother fall apart, her father walk around like a monolith without emotion. And Tony could make them both better.

How could he trust her? Until he knew what she was going to do, he couldn’t let her out of his sight.


Dear Reader,

Right now, in my world, family is a fragile thing. Ironically, I’ve just finished a story with the same theme, Another Woman’s Son.

The relationships in this novel are complex. Ben Jordan and Isabel Barker both knew they had problems in their marriages, but they had no idea they’d lost so much until all they had left was the small boy who binds them together. In the end, they discover that, along with the boy, they have a mutual talent to love and forgive and create a future.

As I wrote this book, I began to realize that loving and forgiving are the best gifts we can give our families, no matter how we grow or fracture or adapt. If a moment comes that requires everything we have to offer, love and forgiveness are good places to start.

I hope you’ll enjoy this story that remains with me still. I’d love to hear from you. E-mail me at anna@annaadams.net.

Best wishes,

Anna Adams




Another Woman’s Son

Anna Adams







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To the three I lost last week:

Edith Taylor Adams

I have many mothers, but you were the one who loved

me out of choice, from the day I met you. Thank you for

my husband and my “brothers,” for the you in Sarah’s hands

and Colin’s smart mouth and Jen’s ambition and Stevie’s

willingness to always try something new. The plan still goes—if

this thing with Steve doesn’t work out, you and I are always

Ma and daughter. I love you.

Aunt Daisy

You were the sophisticate in our family. You plucked your

eyebrows and indulged in a bit of the grape, and I hear your

smoky laughter right now. I loved your stories so much, the

anticipation was more than half the fun. In fact, you were a

lot of the fun in my childhood. I’m missing you so.

Miranda

I wish I’d known you better. I wish you hadn’t gone.

May peace find you and surround you,

and may you know you are beloved.




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

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE




CHAPTER ONE


ISABEL BARKER LIFTED her face and blinked hard at the silver skeleton and black waterproof cloth of her umbrella. As long as she didn’t let the tears fall, she wasn’t crying.

She was a fraud. A widow who wanted to throw herself on her husband’s coffin, kicking and screaming—with rage. Each snowflake that smacked her umbrella was a drumbeat reiterating one word in her head.

Cheat. Cheat. Cheat.

She stared at the cheater’s casket. Snow decorated the improbably polished mahogany with white lace and mixed with the tears of the real mourners who clustered around Will’s open grave.

She wanted to scream the truth. Will had cheated on her. With her sister. Her sister, damn him—and damn Faith, too.

He and Faith had made a baby, despite the fact he’d always told Isabel he wasn’t ready for children. Faith and Will had been trying to run away with eighteen-month-old Tony the afternoon they’d died in a car crash. It was the only explanation for the suitcases the police had found in the wreckage. Tony, miraculously safe in his car seat, couldn’t explain.

Isabel turned her face away from Will’s coffin, grateful that her nephew had survived. She couldn’t look at her parents or at Ben Jordan— Faith’s husband. Ben had also been Will’s best friend. And Isabel’s, too.

She hadn’t looked at her family this morning when she’d seethed and mourned at her sister’s service. Three months ago, after a day in the park with Tony, Isabel had asked Will again if he was ready for a child of their own. She’d tried to explain how much she longed for their baby. Instead of his usual “I’m too busy” excuses, he’d taken a deep breath and confessed to his affair with Faith.

Isabel had stared, disbelieving as the words flew like weapons. She’d begged him to say he was lying. He had promised he’d be faithful after an earlier affair at a time when their marriage had been young and troubled. She’d forgiven him then. He’d promised, after all.

And Faith—she’d never betray her own sister. Isabel lowered her head and pulled her umbrella closer to shut out the world. Fickle, beautiful, lucky Faith would never steal her little sister’s husband and then pass off his child as her own and Ben’s. She’d never ask Isabel to be godmother to her own husband’s out-of-wedlock son. Faith had flaws, but she wasn’t a monster.

A small groan escaped Isabel’s lips. Ben leaned toward her, his shoes creaking in the early January cold. She felt guilty and eased away from him. Three months ago, she’d left town without telling Ben what Will had told her. If he’d done the same, she wasn’t sure she could forgive him.

The minister lifted his hands. “Please bow your heads for a blessing.” He hadn’t strained himself with an extensive eulogy. Had the snow put him off? Or maybe Will, in a fit of regret, had confided in him, and he couldn’t do an adulterous man justice.

Isabel stared at her black pointy-toed shoes and refused to pray. She’d abandoned Ben because she’d made herself a fool for Will, and she couldn’t find courage or the words to admit how gullible and stupid she’d been. How straight-to-the-bone her husband’s infidelity cut her even now.

They’d married straight out of college, and she’d worked as a copywriter for an advertising agency while Will became known for the innovative textiles he’d manufactured. After two years of phenomenal success, he’d decided he didn’t want anyone to think his wife had to work. Isabel’s job ruined his image as a provider and a philanthropist.

From the moment she’d resigned, the power balance between them had shifted. Bored stiff in her empty home, she’d thrown herself into any volunteer opportunity.

Will had approved of all efforts that got their names in the paper, but he’d badgered her for time she should have devoted to him. When she’d said she might be a coat on a hook that he took down the second he came home in the evening, he’d reflected on that first affair, said she’d driven him to find someone who loved him the way she’d promised to—for better, for worse.

To hide mistrust she’d never overcome, she’d tried harder to be the wife he wanted.

What an idiot she’d been. Humiliation nearly strangled her. She’d never be dependent again, never try to please a man as part of some twisted love ritual. She’d never live another lie.

From somewhere inside, laughter came. Inappropriate, hysterical laughter. Fine time to take back the reins of her own life.

She swallowed with effort. She didn’t need Will to tell her hysteria was unsuitable in a widow.

Ben must have thought she was choking. Taller by several inches, he looped his arm around her shoulders. She jumped. Once he knew what she’d kept from him, he’d never touch her again. He’d never trust her.

On her first day at the University of Virginia, Isabel had been carrying a mountain of clothes from her car to her dorm when she’d literally stumbled over Ben and Will repairing the VW bug they’d shared. They were already in their junior year.

Talk led to “chance” meetings that became dates between her and Will. Always, Ben hovered at the edges, disappearing when appropriate, supportive when Isabel had feared Will might leave her for some other girl who’d thrown herself in his way. Will had been a flirt. A harmless one, Ben had always reassured her.

And then Ben had met Faith and they’d fallen in love, and the world had seemed perfect. Sisters who’d married best friends. Four best friends in all, who agreed to live in D.C.

Faith had discovered English Meadows, an “executive subdivision” of two-acre, green-beyond-belief estates in Hartsfield, Virginia. Ben and Isabel had tried to hold out against such a strong dose of well-to-do, covenant-laden suburbia. Big brick houses on small patches of grass.

Faith and Will had called them socialists in a capitalist world.

She glanced at Ben’s dark-clad legs, all she could see of him with her head down. Had he noticed Will and Faith’s stray looks of longing? Low-voiced conversations that only now seemed significant.

“Amen,” said the minister.

A few women cried out loud. One man coughed, trying to hide his grief. Most of these people knew she’d separated from Will. They shook hands with Ben, barely muttering condolences her way before they bolted for their warm vehicles.

A line of cars snaked down a slithery path that marked the snow-covered road on the cemetery’s hill. Smoke rose behind gleaming black trunks, but distance and the brisk January wind buffered the engine sounds.

One woman seemed overwhelmed, trying to hide hushed sounds of anguish behind a white handkerchief. Another friend of Will’s? Isabel turned away from her and teetered over the snow to take her mother’s arm.

“Mom,” she said, unable to comfort her with more. Amelia Deaver turned into Isabel’s arms, burying a sob in her shoulder.

Her father caught her mom’s waist. “Amelia,” he said, his own voice husky. “Come on, honey. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

“Faith.” Isabel’s mother sobbed the name, and her pain finally made Isabel cry, too. She’d loved her sister. She would rather have fought her for Will than lost both of them. But she’d left, believing Will’s claim that he’d found his one true love in her sister.

“Mom, let’s go.” They had to endure the reception at the Fitzroy Hotel, a central location for friends and employees. She pushed her mother’s short wavy hair back. “You’re shivering. You’re going to get sick.” The men in coveralls, hovering beneath the bare branches of a tree about a hundred yards down the road, weighed on Isabel’s mind, too. She didn’t blame them for wanting to finish their job in this weather, but neither did she want to watch them.

“I’m sorry.” Her mother straightened, wiping her nose. “You’ve lost so much.”

Isabel hated deceiving her mom. “I guess numbness protects you,” she said. Three days had passed since the police had called.

“It won’t for long.” Amelia took her hand. “Where are your gloves, honey?”

Ben produced them from his pockets. “I found them on the ground beside the car,” he said, handing them back.

“Thanks.” Isabel took them without looking him in the eyes. “We’ll meet you at the hotel.” She glanced at her grieving mother. “Maybe you could bring Tony over to their hotel in the morning?”

“I wish you’d all stay at the house.” Ben cupped her mother’s elbow, and Amelia looked at Isabel’s father. “George,” Ben said, “don’t you think you and Amelia would be more comfortable at my house than in a hotel?”

“I don’t mind coming during the day, but I can’t face Faith’s things.” Amelia dissolved in fresh tears. “I have to be able to leave when it gets to be too much.”

“I was thinking of Tony,” Ben said. “He needs his family around him.”

“Is-a-bel.” Amelia stuttered over her name. “Why don’t you drive to the reception with Ben? Your things are still in your car, and he came with us. Afterward, you could stay at Ben’s until Tony’s better.”

After that horrible conversation with Will, Isabel had fled to Middleburg, three hours away in horse country, where she’d found a job in an even smaller ad agency than the one where she’d worked after college. Because of the blizzard that was finally subsiding, she’d arrived this morning, barely in time for Faith’s service.

But stay in her sister’s house? Where her husband had no doubt made love to Faith? “I can’t.”

“What?” Her father’s straight mouth turned down. “Ben’s right about Tony needing us.”

If Ben knew the truth about his son’s birth father, he’d never let one of the Deavers near his child again. And Isabel, riddled with regret, hardly trusted herself not to blurt the truth, if only to relieve her own suffering.

“Don’t make me—” She stopped as three pairs of eyes zeroed in on her. Her mother thought she should be more generous. Her father couldn’t understand her selfishness.

God alone knew what Ben thought.

“Helping Ben take care of Tony will ease your mind about Will and Faith,” her mother said. “Occupy your heart, sweetie.”

“Mom.” Her mother could be a little dramatic.

“I’d appreciate it.” Dignity covered Ben in armor. He wouldn’t cheat on his best friend. He’d never have looked at another woman. Even though she hadn’t managed to fully trust her own husband, Isabel believed in Ben’s loyalty.

And she owed him because she’d kept Faith and Will’s secret.

“Okay.”

“What?” her father said again. “No arguing?”

“You’re right.” She kissed her mother’s icy cheek.

“Thanks. I’ll feel better, knowing you’re with Tony.”

Isabel longed to see the baby, but she dreaded entering her sister’s house. “We’ll see you at the hotel.” She suspected they would try to leave as soon as they said hello, or they wouldn’t be shoving Ben into her car. She hugged her father. “Will you come to Ben’s in the morning?”

“Join us for breakfast, George.” Ben seconded her invitation.

“Sounds good.” Her father had eyes and concern only for her mom. He helped her over the slippery, uneven ground. His voice filtered back. “Maybe we shouldn’t have asked Isabel to go. She’s just lost her husband and her—”

“She lost Will three months ago,” her mother said, loud enough to crash like cymbals around Isabel’s head. “She began to mourn then.”

Were divorce and death one to her mother? Will hadn’t lived long enough to give her a divorce—or answers. Why—how—had he fallen in love with her sister?

“Isabel?”

She turned and finally looked at Ben, praying the truth wouldn’t scream from her face.

He stepped away, his hands behind his back, his feet grinding loose gravel that barely covered the frozen mud. “What do you know?”

His question tied her tongue.

“I’ve been waiting for you to show up since the accident.” Anger made his voice deeper, richer than she’d ever heard it. “Come on. I need the facts and you know them.”

“Facts?” Stunned, she marveled at the act he’d put on in front of her parents.

“Tell me the truth.”

“You must know.” Three months ago, she’d been just as upset as he was now.

“You did know.” He turned on his heel as if he didn’t dare keep her within arm’s reach. “You knew and you left without telling me.”

“Why did you think I left?” There was so much hurt in his too-straight back she yearned to comfort him. She couldn’t even offer a straight answer until she knew what he’d learned on his own. How could she be the one who told him the truth about Tony?

“You and I were friends.” He faced her again. “I loved you—and Will. You walked out of my life and Tony’s. You let me find out my wife had an affair with your husband.” His eyes glittered. She’d never seen Ben cry. “You let me stumble onto the fact that Tony doesn’t even belong to me.”

What a hypocrite she’d been, moaning about betrayal. Her umbrella tilted in her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Who gives a damn about sorry?” Snow covered his black hair but melted on his face. Grief made him ugly.

“I thought I was dying for a while. I know I should have told you. I’d have felt betrayed if you’d left me living in a fake marriage, too, but I couldn’t find the words or the way to tell you.” His hard face didn’t soften. She started toward the car. “Faith was my sister.”

Ben pulled her to a stop. Her new black heels slid on the icy ground. She’d dressed to the teeth, and she intended to burn every stitch on her back as well as her purse and shoes. She was going to survive her husband’s lies without one reminder of this day.

“I’ll take you home so you can say goodbye to Tony.” He all but bared his teeth in a snarl. “But you and your parents are no longer welcome in my house.”

“I haven’t told them, either.”

“It’s a matter of time.”

“Stop manhandling me.” A scientist rather than a salesman like Will, Ben hadn’t perfected tact, but he’d never before carried a club. “If you keep us out of your house, people will notice something’s wrong. And Tony’s your son in all the ways that truly count.”

“You say that because you feel guilty. Eventually, you’ll realize you could raise your nephew. Do you think I don’t know how badly you want a child?”

“I wanted my husband’s child,” she said, feeling stupid and gullible again as she admitted it. “I thought I had a marriage.”

“You were trying to glue a broken marriage back together,” he said. “Same as me.”

“Did Will tell you that?” Damn him for trying to make her look bad.

“Didn’t you fall in love with someone who lives in Virginia?” Ben stepped back, clearly restraining himself again.

“Will lied.”

“He said you never wanted him. You turned him out of his own bed. You had an affair, and that drove him to Faith.”

“I drove him.” She hated the bewildered tears that threatened to shame her all over again. “Who are you going to believe? The man who slept with your wife, or the woman he also cheated on?”

“That’s an excuse, Isabel. You didn’t say anything.”

“Because I didn’t know how to warn you that you were living a lie? Did you ask yourself why I never called?”

“Will said you were probably avoiding Faith and me because Tony reminded you of the baby you wanted and didn’t have. That you left him because he didn’t want children. Then you turned to this other guy.”

“If he said he didn’t want children you know he was lying because he and Faith were taking their son.”

Ben stared at her, frustration in every breath that misted around his face. Finally, he hauled her over the frozen ground. Because she hadn’t wanted to hurt him, he seemed to be rattling the teeth out of her head. “Tony is my son.” Fear glazed his blue eyes. “My child will never belong to anyone else. He never has.”

“I’ve had it with men’s egos.” She hid behind her own anger. “Tony is my nephew. He’s lost his mom. Even Will loved him, and he’s gone, too.” A sob caught in her throat. “That baby must be scared every time someone he loves walks out of a room. I won’t give anyone an excuse to take him from you.”

The cemetery workers walked into her peripheral vision. Isabel stared from the men to the mound of fresh dirt they were leaving behind.

Will had destroyed her sense of self. She doubted her own instincts. She’d never choose to live with another lie, but she hated that mound of dirt. She pushed her palm against her mouth to keep from crying out.

Ben held her other hand close against his beating heart. In that moment, she realized Will would never come back. He’d never smile at her or criticize or lie or ask what she’d made for dinner again. “Never” weighed upon her with the force of all eternity.

A woman could hate the man who’d rejected her, but she couldn’t dance on his grave.



BEN HAD BARELY GLIMPSED the Deavers at the Fitzroy before they left. Isabel had worked the room on autopilot. She’d never remember a word anyone had said to her. As soon as decently possible Ben walked Isabel to her car. Unresisting, she let him help her into the passenger seat and then take her keys from her purse.

“I’ll drive,” he said, unsure she heard.

“Thanks. They were all kind, but I’m glad that’s over. I swear I could hear the questions they didn’t ask about Ben and me.”

Despite hating her almost as much as he hated Will and Faith, he couldn’t help wishing she didn’t care enough to hurt like this. “How can you grieve for him?”

“I miss them both. I wish I would have happily divorced him and told her I never wanted to see her again, but I don’t want them dead.” She searched in her purse for a Kleenex. “Do you?”

“I’m not sure.” Faith had left a note before she’d driven away with Will. She’d claimed Will had turned to her for comfort because Isabel had rejected him. If not for Isabel, they’d never have grown close enough to fall in love.

Even if it was true, was their adultery Isabel’s fault? Shouldn’t Will have fought for his marriage? Ben had known he and Faith had problems, but he’d never considered divorce.

Shutting Isabel’s door, he walked along the side of the car with his hand on the cold metal. His best friend had made love with Faith and created the baby who slept in a crib down the hall from Ben’s bedroom.

And Isabel had known. With a few words, she could take his son for her family. Eventually, she’d realize how badly he wanted to disappear with Tony.

He opened his door. Solemn and slender in her black dress and coat, her dark brown hair looped into a twisting chignon, she looked the part of a widow.

“Is my face dirty?” she asked. “Why are you staring?”

“I haven’t heard from you since you went,” he said, taking up where they’d left off before the reception.

“Now you know why.”

“You say you love Tony. How could you cut yourself off from him?” He had to understand before he could trust her.

“I love him more than anyone.” Isabel rubbed her pale cheek against one shoulder. “I’d been with him almost every day of his life until I found out the truth. He was like my own and Faith seemed to welcome my help. But after, I had to speak to her or you if I wanted to talk to him.”

“You could have hung up if she answered the phone.”

“I was mad at her, but I thought the second I heard your voice I might tell the truth.”

Relief hit him so hard it hurt. “I wish you had called. At least I’d have known in time to confront them. It was all over by the time I found out.” With a shaking hand, he turned the key in the ignition.

“Because they’re dead, Ben.”

“I might have killed them.”

“No.”

He was glad she sounded so sure. It made him think he might stop being the man who hated everyone.

“How long are you going to hate me?”

“Hate you? You’re all I have left.” As insane as he felt, he had to keep her on his side. He craved a large meal of revenge, but he wanted his son more. He shoved the gearshift into Drive and eased away from the slushy curb.

Until two years ago, they’d lived in the same neighborhood. Out of the blue one day, Faith had insisted they move to a different subdivision, close enough to reach his office in less than an hour. He’d thought she’d liked its slight edge in upscale chic. Now, he realized she’d needed a little distance from her lover. Living so close to Will must have strained her acting abilities.

Half an hour later, Ben turned into the brick-lined entrance of his neighborhood. Isabel’s car skidded as the tires lost traction in the snow.

He glanced at her, but her cynical smile, focused outside the vehicle, opened his eyes to the place where he lived.

Neat houses in neat rows, governed by rules and expectations that kept garbage cans and neighbors in their proper places. It looked pretty as long as no one peered inside.

He parked in front of the garage, and they both got out. Isabel’s smile had faded. She clung to the door, obviously in the grip of second thoughts.

A plan came to Ben, fully formed out of distrust. “Come see Tony. He’s still the baby you love.” The nearer he kept Isabel, the better he’d know what she was thinking. “The reception was difficult. This is going to be impossible.”

He opened the side door and waited. She stared at him and finally slogged through the snow, her head down, her breath coming so fast he could see her coat moving up and down with each respiration.

Faith’s spotless chrome-and-granite kitchen stood empty. Isabel peered, anxious as a hunted animal. He’d always hated the cold kitchen. One small frame in Faith’s picture of a perfect home.

He dropped his keys on the counter. “Wait here. I’ll let the sitter know I’ll take her home in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” But she glanced back at the door. She’d already proved her skills as a runaway.

He took a chance and left her there. He hoped she loved his son too much to leave. The sixteen-year-old girl from three streets over jumped off Faith’s white leather sofa as he entered the family room.

“Mr. Jordan.” She tended to watch adults like a spooked colt.

“We’re back, Patty.” He rarely understood adolescent girls, but he dealt with Patty by pretending it was normal for people to treat him like a burglar in the middle of a big job. “I brought Mrs. Barker to see Tony. Can you give us a few minutes and then I’ll drive you home?”

“He’s asleep.” She scooped up her coat and book bag. “I can walk.”

“Your parents would kill me.” He looked out the wide bay windows. “The snow’s getting heavier. I’ll be glad to take you.”

He headed back to the kitchen, more sure his jumpy sitter would remain than he was that he’d find Isabel where he’d left her. Miraculously, she’d waited.

His blood seemed to flow at light speed—a tremble in his fingers, a roar in his ears. Adrenaline. If he didn’t hit something soon, his head might explode.

“Tony’s napping.” He tried to sound natural, but he felt as if he were outside his body looking down. “He won’t wake up if we’re quiet.” He led Isabel to the stairs she’d climbed many times before.

At the top, his son’s door stood partially open. Patty had stacked the baby’s toys on a plain chest at the end of the too-ornate crib. Lamps that wouldn’t survive a boy’s first in-the-house football game lit the room with soft warmth.

Tony lay on his back, his arms and legs spread as if he were flying. Heat finally crept back into Ben’s body as he watched Tony sleep. He hadn’t lost everything in that accident. His son had survived. His son.

Isabel leaned on the crib’s raised rail. She’d been in this house, bent over this crib, taken care of Tony almost as much as Faith.

She reached for the baby’s hand but jerked her own back just before she touched him. Ben forgot for a moment that she’d let him believe in his fake life for three extra months. He started to remind her again she wouldn’t wake Tony, but the harsh need on her face cut him short.

Tears floated in her eyes. Tony meant everything to her. Ben covered her hand and touching her felt right again.

“I know how you feel,” he said. But you can’t have him.

“I shouldn’t have come. I thought I’d gotten used to not seeing him, but I was wrong.” She splayed her free hand over her breasts. “He kills me, your boy.”

Could he trust her? Until he was sure, he couldn’t let her leave. He imagined himself in her place, watching her mother fall apart, her father walk around like a monolith without emotion. Isabel knew exactly what Amelia and George needed to get all better. And that was Tony.

He slid Isabel’s hand off the crib and pulled her to the door. Without pausing, he took her to his room. Isabel caught the doorjamb, reluctant to enter Faith’s domain of chintz and fussy swags.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Asking you to stay here.”

“What?” She clenched her hands in the narrow skirt of her dress. “Just because Faith and Will slept together, you and I should try it? I don’t need that kind of revenge.”

At first, he didn’t understand. “Are you nuts? I only brought you in here because I didn’t want the babysitter to overhear.” They’d been friends for most of their adult lives, and he was about to trick her into easing his paranoid fears. He couldn’t help it.

For Tony. He’d risk everything, destroy anyone.

“Stay with us,” he said. “Until you decide what you want to do next. The four of us were his family. As you said, he’s lost Will and Faith. George and Amelia didn’t get down here often enough for him to love them the way he does you.”

She didn’t even blink. It was as if she was saturated, had no more room to take in another shock. “You said you hated me.”

“I was angry.” Part of him did hate her. But would he have given up those three extra months for something as brutal as the truth? “Where else do you have to be?”

“In Middleburg. I have a job.”

“What about your house?”

She blushed. Was she lying again? “I asked for time off to get the house ready to sell.”

“Then stay here. You don’t want the memories over there.”

“No,” she said in a cutting voice he didn’t recognize. “I’d rather imagine Will and my sister here, in your bed.” She took one look at it and ran.

The bathroom door slammed. He slumped onto a chair, his hands hanging between his knees. That bed was going out of this house tomorrow if he had to pitch it through a window.

He could hear water running. Isabel had to come out sometime. Meaning, he’d have another chance to win her over.

Guilt almost held him back. Even blinded by love for Faith, he’d recognized Isabel’s softer heart. But distance might make her forget Tony wouldn’t care how he’d been conceived. Ben loved his son too much to trust Isabel’s good intentions.

The more she saw that he and Tony were the real father and son, the less willing she’d be to take him to court.




CHAPTER TWO


ISABEL LIFTED her head, saw herself in the mirror and jumped. Mascara-shadowed eyes, damp face, torment she couldn’t hide.

No marriage. No sister. No best friend. No home.

She squared her shoulders. She was also no victim. Her life had changed forever, but she didn’t have to hide in a bathroom, weeping over the past like a please-save-me heroine in a thirty-year-old paperback.

She yanked the door open. Ben, looking stunned, rose from one of Faith’s big chintz armchairs. Isabel tried to go back into the bedroom, but she almost thanked him for coming into the hall before she could.

“What do you say?” he asked.

“Why do you care if I stay? You said this was my fault, too.” He wanted something more from her than company for Tony. “What you’re saying and what you want are out of sync.”

“No marriage falls apart because of one person, and no relationship ends overnight.” Confusion and guilt drained the life from Ben’s face. “I worked too hard.” His research kept him in his lab for long hours.

“Who knew you were leaving your home undefended?” Or that her husband would fall for her sister? “I never had a clue. Did I close my eyes to the signs?”

“All the stages of being cheated on,” Ben said. “Bitterness and taking all the blame. But Tony doesn’t have to be part of this train wreck.”

“Why would you let me near him when you think I’m going to tell my parents we should take him away from you?”

His expression acknowledged the truth in her words, but the accusation quickly disappeared. Ben had learned to hide things, and his new talents made her uneasy. “The thought never crossed your mind?” he asked.

“I’m not like—” She stopped, lifting her hands to her unnaturally warm face.

“Like Faith?” he asked. “In what way? I’d like to know more about my wife.”

So would she, but they’d both lost any chance at knowing who she’d really been. “I want Tony to be safe and happy. Faith and Will just wanted each other, and to hell with the rest of us.”

Without touching her, he studied her face as if he were divining a mystery. “Stay with Tony until he gets used to being without his mom.”

“I can’t take her place.” She turned away.

“Why don’t you like people to see you cry?”

“Because I’m not weak.” She looked back as if he’d forced her to. “I loved my sister—and Will—but I’m sick of being their joke. I imagine them laughing….”

“And you still think you love them?” Surprise raised his voice.

They both glanced toward the stairs. The babysitter could bring down Ben’s shaky house of cards with one juicy conversation.

“You have to be more careful. Sixteen-year-old girls talk to their friends and their mothers. And her mother knows my mom from the parties you and Faith gave.”

Ben pulled her closer. “You’d mind if your parents tried to take my son?”

“Why won’t you trust me?”

“You had three months to tell me the truth.”

“I was wrong.”

He let her go, disillusioned. “At least you could have warned me they might take Tony and run. I almost lost my son.”

Isabel had nothing to say. She couldn’t be grateful that her sister’s death had restored his child to Ben.

“Reading your mind is as easy as looking through a window,” he said. “Everything you think is right there to see. I’m not glad she’s dead, either.”

“I can’t believe it, even after today. My mom hasn’t even figured out what the bags in the car mean.”

“What?”

“She thinks Will must have been giving Tony and Faith a ride to their place in Pennsylvania.”

“He did that before when he had meetings in Pittsburgh,” Ben said, but anger turned him into a stranger with dead eyes and a slitted mouth. “They told us he was taking her to your parents those times, didn’t they? But they were together. Since cell phones, how would we have found out? I never called your parents’.”

“I did, once or twice.” She gave Faith and Will a grudging benefit of the doubt. “She must have gone home sometimes. She couldn’t risk having you or me say something about those trips to my parents.”

“Why do you make excuses for her?” His tone accused her of cheating, too.

“Faith was my sister.” Will, she could condemn with less conscience, if only she could stop thinking she’d pushed him at Faith. She hadn’t been able to tear down the wall she’d built after learning of his first affair, though she’d walked right through it into Will’s arms just to prove she could.

“You think it was your fault,” he said. “I know exactly what you mean. I’d like to forget either one of them ever existed, but I keep remembering the good times, too. Will was like my brother.” It was his turn to look away. “And Faith gave me my son.”

She hadn’t meant to open a discussion about auld lang syne. “I don’t want to talk about them.” She shook back her hair. “Look, my mother is Tony’s grandma. She’s the one who should help you take care of Tony.”

“They’ve been around for three days and he’s just starting to get used to them. He asks for his mom and you and Will. I don’t know if it’s because he only wants the three of you, or if he’s actually scared of strangers right now.”

“Strangers? I’ve never known you to be so dramatic, Ben. Tony’s spent a lot of time with my parents.”

“Apparently not as much as we thought.” Unfamiliar arrogance frosted his tone.

“I haven’t seen him for three months. He might not know me anymore.” She eased away from Ben, aware she was about to infuriate him. “And how can I look at him without searching for some sign of Will?”

He didn’t lose his temper. “Try to do what I do. Don’t let yourself look for Will in Tony. Signs of him might drive you crazy.” He rubbed his face. A five-o’clock shadow had begun to appear, right on time.

“I’m afraid.” She stared at the nursery door. “I need to start my own life.” She rubbed her hands together, cold and hot all at the same time. “What if I don’t love him anymore because of Will and Faith?”

“I’m furious with you, Isabel, and even I don’t think you’d blame an innocent child for Will’s adultery.”

And Faith’s. Her sister’s part in this filthy soap opera hurt almost more than Will’s. Men could fall out of love with their wives. But then the wife was supposed to be able to parade her grievances past her sister for sympathy.

Ben took both her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “You and I are all that’s left of the only family Tony’s ever known.”

“What do you mean you’re furious with me? You don’t act upset. Are you pretending?”

He let go too quickly. “I’m putting my son ahead of my feelings.”

“But you have a plan.” She saw him as she never had before. With that strange flat look in his eyes, his body strained to breaking point. “You let my parents drive you to the funerals. Would you have dragged them back here if I hadn’t shown up?”

“You honestly think I’m planning something?” He looked embarrassed. “I’m not Will,” he said, borrowing her earlier approach.

“I can’t tell what’s real.”

He pressed both her hands to his chest. The weave of his wool suit against her palms made her feel again. She heard the low whisper of heat in the vents, noticed the faint lighting that softened the walls and lit her way—to Tony’s room, or to the front door and freedom.

“I’m real. Tony’s real,” Ben said. “And you’re his aunt.”

“I can’t do what you want.” She wasn’t being selfish. She was looking for salvation. “I want to know how people live when they’re not surrounded by family and so-called best friends.” Faith and Will would always pervade any moment she spent with her family—including Ben and Tony. She had to put what had happened behind her. “I’ll send presents at Christmas and birthdays.” Despite her best effort not to cry, the tears started again.

Ben mistook them for weakness. “You can’t turn your back on Tony. He needs us.”

“He needs you. And my mom and dad.” Too many pictures went through her mind. Will, cuddling Tony, giving him piggyback rides. Resting his chin on the child’s head while he’d smiled at her, always hiding the worst secret a man could keep from his wife.

Dying inside, she tried to push Ben away, but he took her hands again, and they stumbled inside his bedroom door. A whiff of Faith’s perfume hit Isabel. Probably a memory.

“Anyone in my family would do for you,” she said.

“Because they’re Tony’s blood relations? That’s the kind of thinking that makes me believe you’ll get over being angry with Will and Faith and then tell your mother and father about Tony.”

“If I couldn’t play God with you, how would I with them?”

“I’m your friend. They gave birth to you. They have nothing to do with the life you’ve led here. I’m a reminder.”

She left him and opened the door to Tony’s room. He followed. “Look at him,” she said. “Why would I want to take him away from you?”

Ben crossed to his son’s bedside. He pulled a blanket up to Tony’s waist and tucked a ragged toy kitten beside him.

Tony’s curly brown hair had grown longer. His sweet, plump hand curled in his sleep. Her feet moved of their own volition. She tripped on a stuffed hippo she’d never seen before. It squeaked and she glanced at the sleeping boy who owned her heart.

He was her flesh and blood, too. The thought—her need for him—frightened her. Just what Ben feared most.

Her nephew burrowed into his overstuffed comforter with a soft, sad sigh. “Mommy.” He pulled his arms together in an empty hug.

She gritted her teeth and wiped her face. Tony’s name screamed in her head. If she was ever good at being a mom, it would be because Tony had taught her to love like one.

Ben was right. How could her mother resist wanting to raise Faith’s child? Having Tony so close would be like having part of Faith back.

Across the crib, Ben made a sound. The fear on his face frightened her.

“What?” she whispered, but she knew he’d read her thoughts again.

“Let’s go.” He pressed one hand to his son’s back. “He needs to sleep, and I have to take Patty home.”

He urged her out, but she hung back, gazing at her nephew. She’d do anything to protect him, and one thing she knew for sure. No good could come of tearing him away from his father. He belonged with Ben.

All their lives had changed, but Tony was a child. Only unconditional love and reassurance could keep him safe. She’d promised to take care of him.

“Let me shut the door.” Ben nudged her out of the way and closed it, cutting off her view of Tony.

“What about Will’s mom?” She spoke without meaning to. Her parents were dangerous enough, but Leah Barker wouldn’t be able to stop herself from going after Tony if she discovered the truth.

“You’d tell her?” Ben obviously thought she’d lost her mind.

“Never.” After her husband’s early death from heart disease, Leah had raised Will as if he were her trophy. She wanted everything, but nothing ever filled her up. Nothing would ever be enough. “She’d take you to court if she even suspected Will was Tony’s—” Isabel broke off, unwilling to utter the word.

Leah Barker had collapsed the second Isabel had phoned her. Leah had been the worst kind of permissive, overprotective, overfond mother, raising a son who’d never questioned his sense of entitlement.

“We can’t let her find out.” Ben spoke her thoughts exactly. Sudden relief relaxed his mouth and seemed to travel through his body on a shudder. “So you can’t tell your mother and father.” He tugged her toward the stairs. “My God, I don’t understand the Barkers.”

“I was one of them,” she said. The name had filled her with pride on her wedding day. Leah had promised to be as much a mother as her own. Talk about a promise that couldn’t be kept. But Will had chosen her to be his wife. With her parents, she’d always come second to Faith. She’d loved her sister and tried not to mind, but much of her new-wedded bliss had been built on gratitude to Will for putting her first.

What a fool she’d been.

Abandonment wrapped Isabel like a fine layer of the falling snow. She shivered, cold all the way to her soul.

Ben opened the sides of his jacket and pulled her into his warmth. Isabel held still, unwilling to make herself vulnerable.

“It’s okay, Isabel. You can trust me.”

Longing to believe, she pressed her face against Ben’s shirt, reveling in his heat, in the comfort of her best friend’s arms.

“You understand why we have to keep this secret?”

“When you talk like that, I can’t trust you.” She’d faced too much truth in the past three months.

Ben’s heart thumped against her ear. “I can’t help it. I haven’t felt safe since I read that note.”

Would she ever feel safe? “Do you trust me, Ben?”

“I saw what you looked like when you realized what you’d give up if you kept my secret. I can’t trust you.”

“Too bad for you if everyone can see straight through me.” She didn’t like her own bitterness.

“Would Amelia be able to put Tony first?” Ben tucked her head against him, and she suspected he didn’t want to see her emotions. “Or would she tell herself Tony could learn to be happy with her and George? He might even forget me.”

“Forget you?” Even to her, that image of the future was unbearable. “I’ll do it. I’ll help you.”

Ben kissed the top of her head, his gratitude more real than either of their marriages had been. “Thank you, Isabel.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m sure lying is wrong. Look how it’s already destroyed us.”



FINALLY IN BED in the guest room, Isabel tossed and turned under crisp sheets and a down comforter. In darkness relieved only by an outside streetlight, she tried to shut off the accusations racing around her mind. There was no one left to accuse. Ben couldn’t have kept Faith at home any more than she had Will.

Pounding her pillow, she lifted her head to stare at the clock—2:17.

Second, third and hundredth thoughts pulled her upright. She still wondered why Ben really wanted her to stay. She couldn’t live with him and Tony forever.

He’d brought her bag upstairs before he’d taken the sitter home. After he’d left she’d returned to the baby’s side, her heart melting into her shoes. Even knowing Will had been his birth father, she still loved Tony.

Why hadn’t Will divorced her? She’d have given up rights to the business—any stake in his blessed bank account—to avoid a sentence in the hell he’d left behind.

Isabel jerked the bedding aside and turned on the lamp. Her sneakers lay on their sides by the closet. She stepped into them without bothering to tie the laces. Then she pulled a sweatshirt over her pajamas and opened the door.

Silence blanketed the dark hall. Ben and Tony needed sleep. After waiting a few seconds to make sure she hadn’t disturbed them, she hurried down the curving stairs, snatched her coat out of the closet and then reached for the front door, her only thought, escape.

She glanced down at her clothing. The knife her husband and sister had slipped into her back was no one else’s business. Wandering the neighborhood in her jammies would expose her and Ben, maybe even her parents, to ridicule and questions.

She turned, instead, toward the kitchen. When she opened the back door, the cold sucked the breath out of her lungs, but it felt better than smothering in her sister’s home. If she didn’t get fresh air, she’d need CPR.

Isabel stepped onto the deck and sank in snow that crept around the edges of her shoes. It felt good. She was alive if the cold could hurt.

But it really hurt. Damn. Suddenly she was also swearing at Will and Faith. And then at Ben for convincing her to stay.

Snowflakes wet her cheeks. She ran down the deck stairs and trekked through drifts to the gazebo where she and her sister had shared coffee, tea, secrets and each important milestone in Tony’s life.

Last winter Faith had danced with her son in his first snow. He’d laughed as bits of ice bounced off his soft skin, and Faith had kissed each wet spot. Isabel gritted her teeth. Tony had lost a loving mother.

Faith’s happiness that day had pricked at all Isabel’s doubts. She’d trusted her sister enough to confide her worst fear—that Will might have found another woman.

Isabel hunched into her coat on the swing Will and Ben had hung from the ceiling. Her breath painted the air in front of her face. She exhaled again and watched the mist widen and then dissipate.

Faith had said she was being foolish. Her less-than-comforting response had hurt, but Faith had been right. No woman could have been more foolish or gullible.

“You’ll freeze.”

She jumped. “I didn’t hear you, Ben.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’d take a lot more than a guy in the dark to scare me tonight.” She pulled one knee to her chest. “I’m spoiling for a fight.”

“Yeah.” He sat beside her, jostling the swing. “I’d like to punch someone, too.” He’d positioned spotlights around the yard, and their dim light colored his face pale blue.

“I’m sorry you had to find out with a note,” she said. “I’m not sure I’d ever have found the courage to tell you, but I’m sorry you had to read about it.”

“I knew something was wrong, but I never guessed anything about Will.” He shrugged and the whole swing rocked. “I was lucky. Faith left the note in her makeup drawer. Amelia and George might have found it. They arrived the night of the accident.” He pushed his hands into his coat pockets. “Fortunately, I answered the phone when the mortician called about bringing her stuff.”

“Good God.”

“It was pretty awful.” His silence echoed with pain. “Why did you wait so long to come?”

She stared into the dark, not wanting to answer, but how could he think worse of her? “I considered not coming at all.”

“Really?”

She had shocked him.

“But Mom and Dad would have guessed something had come between Faith and me.”

“And you wouldn’t hurt them.” He stopped the swing with his feet.

“You needn’t sound suspicious.”

“I’ll be glad when your mother and father come over tomorrow and you don’t tell them immediately.”

“You hope that’s the way it goes?” His doubts almost made her laugh. “You have to be kidding. If I wasn’t able to tell you—when you were living the lie that changed me into a cynic—how could I tell my mom? She might feel better, but Tony would lose the last stable figure he’s known.”

“His father.”

“His father, Ben. I agree with you.”

The silence told her he doubted her. Just about the time she was getting angry, he nudged her elbow with his. “What are you going to do about the house?”

She pushed the swing back. “I don’t think Will filed for divorce, and I was too busy finding a job. If the place still belongs to me, I’ll sell it.” She glanced his way. “Meanwhile, you have to decide if you want Will’s half of our assets for Tony.”

“Not a chance. I don’t want anything from that bastard.”

Cold crept through her coat and her pajamas. “What if Tony needs the money when he’s older? We’re not talking a simple piggy bank. This is a lot of capital.”

“Give it to Leah. If the truth comes out, she can decide whether she should help her grandson.”

“I’m serious about not trusting Leah. I could turn over everything Will and I owned together and she’d still look for any crumbs I might have forgotten. She married into a mainline Philadelphia family, and she’ll protect her name with her last breath. The more money to bolster her position, the better. You can’t trust her finer qualities, Ben. You definitely shouldn’t make Tony beholden to her.”

“I won’t touch a penny Will ever made—especially not for my son. I provide for Tony.”

Isabel opened her mouth to suggest he wait until he wasn’t so angry, but it was pointless. She didn’t need his permission to ask her lawyer about creating a trust fund for Tony. “After I get out from under all this, I’m heading back to Middleburg. I love the horses and the trees and the farms. I’m not important enough to matter. No one looks at me with pity. No one expects me to be Mrs. Will Barker.”

“We’ll talk about your plans after you sell the house.”

His domineering note struck a nerve. Will had always tried to steer their lives toward the image he wanted.

“You’re upset.” She tried to start out gently. “And I’ve made it worse by talking about Will, but trying to push me around won’t change anything for you.”

The swing went forward and back. The metal chains sang a high-pitched, mournful tune until Ben stopped their motion.

“Don’t talk about leaving now.” He pushed the swing again, hard. “Please.”

That “please” obviously cost him. She softened. “I won’t.” But was she falling into old habits? Trying to please a man whose gruff tone threatened to withhold affection? She gripped her armrest. “As long as you realize I’m no longer Will’s amenable little wife. I was afraid he’d leave me, I guess, but I’d rather be left than play those kinds of games.”

He turned to her. A stranger behind Ben’s face who gave nothing away. Where was her old friend, loving, lovable, demonstrative Ben? “Thank you,” he said.

She was right to doubt him. He wanted her here for some reason. She didn’t understand, and she assumed it was going to hurt someday, but he might be correct about Tony needing familiar faces.

Ice crept between her collar and her neck. She shivered. From the snow? Or from doubts about Ben?

She turned toward the house, drawn to the faint glow of a night-light Faith had always left on in Tony’s room.

Face it. In Ben’s shoes she’d lie to keep Tony, and she’d keep on until someone caught her.

“I’d better go in,” he said. “I don’t like leaving him alone.” Standing, he held out his hand. “You should come, too. If you fall asleep out here, we’ll find you in an ice block in the morning.”

She tried to laugh. “Ben, what if we came clean? We could work out visitation for everyone.”

“Are you out of your mind? Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“I’m willing to lie because it’s best for Tony, but all the lies got us into this mess.” Gut-sucking tragedy, she meant. “Wouldn’t you have divorced Faith and been civil if she and Will had told us the truth?”

“After Tony came?” He started up the deck stairs. “I’d have killed her and buried her in the cellar, because I’d never have seen Tony again. And neither she nor Will would have believed they were denying me anything.”

“Stop.” If she hadn’t known him better than she knew even her own parents, she might have believed in his threats. She grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “I know you. Don’t talk like that. You are not that kind of man.”

“I want to be.” Unshed tears weighted his voice. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, refusing to believe in the bad man he was trying to become.

He held her off for a moment, and then his arms came around her, almost too tight. Neither of them spoke, and she listened to his rough breathing. She’d been as angry as he was. It felt like sporting a cement foundation on your chest.

“Nothing hurts as much now that we’re together,” she said.

“I’m not so sure.”

“Because I didn’t tell you? If I could have asked you if you wanted to know, maybe I would have gone straight to you, instead of to Middleburg. I doubt it though. Will seemed surprised I was so hurt. Faith tried to call me a couple of times, but I never gave her a chance to speak. I kept hoping they’d realize how wrong they were, and they’d break off their affair. You’d never have to know.”

He looked down at her with his stranger’s face. “Do you believe that?”

She tried. If she could make herself believe, maybe she could convince him. But she was done with being an idiot, and he’d never let anyone past his suspicions.

“No.” She stepped away from him. “And I’m cold.”

“We don’t have to pretend with each other,” he said.

“They pretended to love us for years. That’s why I hate the lies. I was blind to Will, and I don’t want to be the same as he was.”

“He must have loved you once.”

“Because Faith loved you?”

He took her hand, but she’d bet it was an unconscious response. “Maybe she only used me to get close to Will. You were already engaged by the time she and I met.”

“Hold on.” Alarm bells rang in her head. “We can’t let them make us think we’re not worth loving, and I won’t turn into one of those women who refuses to trust because one man cheated on me.” Another lie. She hadn’t fully trusted Will since he’d first strayed. She tugged her hand out of Ben’s, more interested in standing on her own two feet.

Ben let her go. “I’m more worried about being so angry I make Tony forget how to be happy.”

“You’re a good dad. You won’t do that.”

“Thanks, Isabel.” He took the first two stairs in one stride. “I needed that.”

He seemed to feel better, but she noticed the beginnings of a headache and a thick coating of ice in her shoes. Too many moral questions to ponder around here.

“What are you going to do in the morning?” he asked.

“Start on the house.” A labor that would have unmanned Hercules. “I have to sort our things.”

“Let me help. Make a list of what you want to keep and we’ll go through the rest.”

“You don’t owe me, Ben.” She caught up on numb feet. “The ghosts in that house are mine to face.”

Ghosts of Will doing his finest imitation of a loving husband. Faith—with whom she’d played dolls and dress-up, made Christmas and birthday presents for their parents, shared secrets and fights— Faith, taking her place.

Isabel fought an urge to wrap her arms around Ben and bury her face in his shoulder. She needed courage to face the home that had no doubt become her sister’s over the past three months.




CHAPTER THREE


ISABEL WOKE, groggy from lack of sleep. Tony’s crying pulled her to her feet, but then she heard Ben’s comforting voice, and Tony laughed. Isabel sank back, dragging a pillow over her face.

It all came back. Her sister and her husband had found the love Will had apparently never been able to feel for her. They’d had Tony together. They’d run away, only Tony surviving in the wreckage they’d left behind.

Tony. Her nephew. Her husband’s child. Leaving would be so easy.

Except she loved Tony with a mother’s heart. None of this was his fault, and Will had already ruined enough of her life. She might never learn to forgive Faith, but Will’s falseness wasn’t about to destroy her love for Tony.

She tossed the pillow toward the headboard and climbed out of bed. First, a shower that felt more like baptism into a crazy, borrowed existence. Then she put on jeans and a snug green sweater and began to unpack the bag she’d left in the middle of the floor last night. Thank goodness, she’d brought enough clothing to take her through selling her house.

She was hanging her things in the closet when Ben knocked on the door. “You awake?” he asked softly from outside.

“Come on in.” She looked for Tony, but Ben came alone.

He held out her cell phone. “Leah.”

Great. One free breath would have been nice before she had to face her former mother-in-law. “How’d you explain my staying here? She doesn’t know—”

He put his hand over the phone. “She knows you were separated. Why would you stay in that house? And why are you trying to protect Will?”

“He was still her son.”

Ben looked disgusted as he passed the cell.

Isabel replaced his hand with hers, blocking their voices again. “What did you say?”

“Hello, and that I’d find you.”

Maybe she was overreacting, but she wasn’t used to this angrier version of Ben. “I’m sorry. She— I know she can be awful, but she loved Will.”

“As long as he stayed in line.”

“She loved him as much as she can love anyone.” She brought the phone toward her ear.

“Wait.” Ben held out his hand. “Tony’s downstairs. He must have seen you last night because he keeps calling for you.”

“I’ll come down.” Armed with her last ounce of nerve.

“Thanks. He’ll feel better after he knows you’re here.”

She hoped Ben was right. They might be setting Tony up for another loss, because she had to find her own life soon. She couldn’t linger forever on the edges of Ben and Tony’s.

She spoke into the phone. “Leah?”

“I thought you’d hung up. What took so long?”

“Ben and I were talking about Tony. How do you feel now?”

“Exhausted. I know people are going to talk because I didn’t show up, but I can’t manage to get out of bed yet. Are you going to visit me, Isabel? I’d like to hear about my son’s service.”

Leah must be delirious. “You want me?” Despite her claims to be Isabel’s second mother, Leah had treated her as if Will had married the hired help.

“We’re all that’s left of my son now. We must help each other through our grief.”

“Huh?” The many dramas of Leah Barker annoyed the hell out of Isabel, but she bit her tongue. “Calm down, Leah. I’ll come up to Philadelphia in a few weeks, but I have to close the house first.”

“The house? Doesn’t it belong to Will?”

“You haven’t changed that much.”

“Pardon me?”

Isabel almost laughed at Leah’s stronger, affronted tone. “You’re protective,” she said, “of Will. I’ll let you know what the attorney says about the house.”

“And everything else.”

Just like that, her attitude wasn’t so funny. Isabel still owned the things she’d brought into her marriage. “You have nothing to worry about, Leah.”

“Why are you staying at your sister’s house?”

Just the question to turn the knife in Isabel’s wounds. “Ben asked me and I want to spend time with Tony.”

“Don’t you care what people will think? After all, you and Will were separated.”

“What are you implying, Leah?”

“I’m worried about my son’s reputation. You should be, too. I know you had problems, but he loved you.”

That bastard. He’d probably fed his mother the same story he’d given Ben—that Isabel had cheated on him. He’d never realized he didn’t have to hide his flaws from Leah. She refused to see them anyway. Eventually, he’d have persuaded her Faith was a victim he’d saved from a bad marriage, too.

“I loved Will, Leah. Let’s leave it at that. I need to get off the phone and go start on the house.”

“If I come stay with you, will you move back in?”

The threat didn’t scare Isabel. Leah hadn’t even come to her beloved child’s funeral. She’d hire an attorney before she’d travel all the way to Virginia to grab her share of Will’s belongings.

“Sure,” Isabel said. “Let me know when you’re coming.”

Her mother-in-law was silent for several seconds, no doubt planning her next offensive. Isabel smiled. “You’ll fill me in on what you’re doing?” Leah took another tack. “You should call me each evening.”

“I’ll have Ray Paine give you an update.”

“Ray? He’s Will’s attorney.”

“And mine, and I wish you wouldn’t crowd me, Leah.”

Again, she fell silent. “Let’s not argue, honey. We won’t pretend I didn’t think you were wrong for Will. Maybe I was right, maybe not, but you’re all I have left of my boy, and I don’t want to lose you. Maybe I’m trying to make sure you don’t cut all ties with me.”

“By accusing me of burglary?” Any non-succubus would know that was a mistake.

“I don’t want you to cut me out. I have the right to make demands.” The bubble of her arrogance deflated. “I hate situations I can’t control.”

A family trait. “I don’t like people who try to manage me. And being called a criminal puts me off, Leah. Why don’t you say what you mean instead of playing games?”

“Would you believe me if I told you how much I care about you?”

Care seemed like a strong word for what Leah appeared to feel, but she was trying to preserve their tenuous connection. Will must not have told Leah the “Isabel cheated” story after all. Leah would never forgive disloyalty to her son. “I might suspect you had an ulterior motive.”

“I do care. I’m protective of my son’s things, but you were part of his life. I wish I’d been nicer to you while you and Will were married.”

Leah had stopped making sense, but Isabel couldn’t turn her back on Will’s mother. Grief could make a woman talk crazy. “Don’t worry, okay? I won’t take anything that belongs to Will, and I won’t disappear without telling you.”

“You’re the only person I can talk to about…”

“Shh, Leah. Don’t upset yourself. Is anyone staying with you?”

“Janet’s here.” A friend who’d shown her the ropes of being a popular Philadelphia wife. Janet had never liked Isabel, either.

“Go do something with her awhile. Something that takes some energy.”

“You mean like shopping?”

Isabel laughed. She’d had silver polishing or cooking breakfast in mind. “Whatever keeps you busy. You don’t have to deal with everything today. Work your way into getting used to—” She couldn’t say Will’s death. “To what’s happened.”

“I think you’re right.”

It never took much work to persuade Leah to pamper herself. “I’ll call you later.”

“Thanks. And I’m grateful for the advice, too. We’ll talk soon. I still wouldn’t mind knowing what you plan to do about my son’s things.”

Leah couldn’t stop, and Isabel wasn’t a saint. For now a call was the best she could offer.



“POCK, DADDY, POCK!”

Which translated to Take me to the park across the street, Dad. Ben wiped cereal off the wall and picked more out of Tony’s hair. “Just a minute, Son. Let me chisel the kitchen clean first.”

At least he’d stopped begging for his “Iz-bell.”

Just as Ben wiped the last splat of cereal off the counter behind Tony’s high chair, Isabel came into the kitchen, like a woman taking possession of enemy territory.

“Morning,” she said, her cheerfulness obviously an act.

How had Leah put her in this mood?

“My Iz-bell.” Tony kicked so hard the whole chair rocked. Ben and Isabel reached for him at the same time.

“Let me.” Her eyes, soft with love, distracted Ben. His house felt starved for love.

Isabel eased his cooing son out of the high chair. Tony wrapped his legs around her as if he were either wrestling or claiming her for all eternity.

“I love you, baby.” She said it with wonder. That was the worst thing about cheating spouses. They made you forget what kind of person you were.

“You really thought you could stop loving him?” Ben’s throat tightened as Tony planted a wet, cereal-specked kiss on Isabel’s cheek. She looked at Ben, eyes wet.

The heavy air inside his house seemed to lighten.

“I’d better take him.” Ben reached for his boy. “You’re still going out?”

Nodding, Isabel stared at Tony as if she couldn’t get enough of him. Giggling, Tony burrowed his face into her hair. “He’s fine, despite what he must have seen in that accident.” She hugged him again until he wriggled. “You can have him in a sec, and then I have to call Ray before I go.”

“Why?” He didn’t want to hear anything more about this legacy idea. He wet a paper towel with warm water and tried to clean some of the detritus his son had rubbed on her cheek and neck.

The way she set her stubborn jaw equipped him with plenty of elbow grease. “I want to discuss setting up a trust fund for Tony, and while I was talking to Leah I realized I’d better find out for sure about my legal rights.”

“Don’t think you can run over me about Will’s money. No one provides for my son except me.”

“Be sensible. You can’t see the future. Who’d have believed three months ago that all this was waiting for us? When Tony grows up, he might need—and want— Will’s legacy.”

“Will always said you hated business matters.” He closed in again, trying to finish the cleanup.

“What Will actually meant was that he hated for me to ask questions about the business. He felt I was challenging his role as the great provider.” She dropped the sarcasm. “Another reason to feel idiotic for trusting him. I may be penniless.” She freed one hand and pushed his paper towel away. “What are you doing to my face?”

“Cereal.” He scrubbed off the last grains and then showed them to her. “Tony shared with you.”

“Is it in my hair, too?” But when she turned to let him search the brown strands, Tony grunted and tightened his legs.

“My Iz-bell, Daddy.”

“Aunt Iz-bell,” Ben said for maybe the billionth time.

“Uh-huh.” Tony nodded with vigor. “My Iz-bell.”

They had bigger problems. Someday Tony would grasp what aunt meant. “Okay, buddy. Let’s finish cleaning you both before your Iz-bell has to hose her self down.”

“No.” Tony resented even a paper towel coming between them. Ben had to laugh. Otherwise, his boy might tempt him to cry. “I told you he’s lost too many people lately.”

“Ben.” Without warning, Isabel put one arm around him.

She seemed too close. He couldn’t get enough air. What the hell had his voice betrayed? As his lungs screamed, he let her hold him, and he was almost as grateful as his son.

This was good, he told himself, even as he hated the devious path his thoughts took. She wouldn’t hug him if she didn’t feel attached. The more attached he made her feel, the safer he and Tony would be.

But he must have hugged back too tightly. Tony began to squeal, and Isabel laughed, moving away.

“I guess we needed that.” She picked up Tony’s bowl from the table and set it in the sink. “It’s been too long for all of us.”

Fighting remorse that was pointless, since he’d have used any innocent, unsuspecting soul to keep his son, he followed her to the sink. “More cereal.” He smoothed it out of her hair and ran the paper towel over his son’s face, to Tony’s squirming disgust. “And we’re all ready to go.”

“Go where?” Isabel asked. “I mean where are you and Tony going?”

“The park, if you don’t want our company.” He tossed the paper towel into the garbage can as the doorbell rang.

Isabel turned with a wary look that reminded him she really had been through the same experience that had changed his life. “I was surprised no one brought the traditional casseroles.”

“I asked them not to.” How else did a guy act when his wife died, leaving a brief, informative note about her affair? “I don’t know if she told anyone else the truth. Every time one of her friends shows up I’m afraid something will happen that makes me lose Tony.” He circled Isabel and his son, heading for the front door. “Those damn suitcases, for instance.”

“I know. I plan to repeat Mom’s theory about Will giving Faith and Tony a ride to her and Dad’s house.” Annoyance tightened Isabel’s voice.

“I’m glad you told me. It’s a better excuse than anything I came up with.”

“Have you considered a DNA test?” Isabel asked.

He turned back, bleak. “I won’t leave a trail of evidence that proves I have questions about Tony’s paternity, and Faith’s affair explains why my marriage had turned into an endurance test.” He looked miserable. “I can’t make myself prove my son belonged to another man.”

“He never will.”

Isabel’s desperate comfort provided little relief. He passed through the dining room where the table was still set for Faith’s next dinner party, and entered the hall. He reached for the door, wishing he could plaster a do-not-disturb sign to the other side.

George and Amelia were on the threshold, George taking a quick scan of the neighbors, Amelia clinging to his arm as if she might sink without his assistance. “You’re exhausted.” She was one to talk, with her grayish hair flying from a bun he’d guess she hadn’t repaired since yesterday. “I knew we shouldn’t leave you alone. You have too many memories in this house.” She peered over his shoulder. “Where are Tony and Isabel? Not awake yet?”

“It’s almost ten,” George said. “No kid sleeps this late. Have you eaten, Ben? We thought we’d take the family out for breakfast.”

“I’ll give Tony his bath and dress him for you, Ben,” Amelia said. “And maybe later we could take him to the park.”

“I’ve already dressed him. We painted the kitchen with cereal, and we’re headed to the park.” Aware he owed Isabel a random act of kindness here and there, he prepared the path for her to go her own way. “Except Isabel has some work to do at her house.”

“How is she this morning?” Amelia pushed past him. “Isabel?”

“In the kitchen, Mom.”

Her happy voice startled him.

“There she is.” Amelia rewrapped a striped scarf around her throat. “We’ll all visit the park. We’ll get a bite to eat and then work it off on the baby swings. I’d love some fresh air.”

“Are you nuts?” George took his wife’s arm. “In that skimpy overcoat, you’d freeze in minutes.”

“It gets colder than this in Philadelphia.”

“And you huddle by the fireplace every time it snows.” He nodded toward Ben. “You go. Amelia and I will say good morning to Isabel and then find ourselves some breakfast and a paper. We’ll bring something back. Maybe those doughnuts Tony likes.”

“You don’t have to leave because Tony and I are going out. Come on into the kitchen. I have coffee and a paper, George.”

“Don’t want to make a mess of your kitchen.” George prowled like a caged animal under his daughter’s roof. “We’ll see Isabel and then go our own way. Besides, Amelia likes her own copy of the crossword puzzle.”

“I never—” Amelia began, but George’s strange expression stopped her from finishing.

Ben closed his own eyes, swearing a blue streak in his head. Faith might have followed Will’s lead and told her father some god-awful story. Always a daddy’s girl, she wouldn’t have been able to run out on her marriage without trying to swing her father onto her side.

George often told his girls they were the best things that had ever happened to the world. According to Faith, he’d never been able to live with flaws, so she’d always tried to hide hers. George would have to convince himself Faith was blameless. Her affair, and then passing Tony off as Ben’s child. Her actions would have forced George to take sides between his two girls.

For Isabel’s sake as well as his own, Ben prayed he was wrong and Faith hadn’t found the guts to confess. “Isabel, your mom and dad are here.”

They found her with the top of Tony’s high chair up, wrestling him into his coat.

“I’ll do that. He hates it.”

“I used to know the tricks.” Isabel gave up and hugged both her parents. “Did you sleep well, Mom? You look tired.”

Ben concentrated on Tony, pulling up his hood and tying the laces in a bow. Tony pushed at his hands with his usual resistance.

“We slept fine.” Amelia backed away from her to study the room. “Isn’t this kitchen lovely? It could be a show home, Ben.”

Isabel leaned against the sink and he tried not to notice her white-knuckled grip on the granite counter. “It’s lovely,” she said with magnificent blandness.

“Amelia.” George pulled her close and kissed her temple. “You’re being tactless.”

“I’m not comparing you to your sister, Isabel.” Amelia breathed deep. “I’m looking for signs of Faith. I miss her so much.”

Isabel forgave immediately and hugged her mom again. “It’s all right. I do understand.” But her bleak expression told a different story.

Ben wished he could pull her away from her mom, but that would draw attention to the two of them being in some bad situation together. He couldn’t afford to make the Deavers look more closely for the reasons their other daughter had been in that car with their son-in-law.

Isabel moved away from her mother with the excuse of returning Tony’s mitten. “Mom, are you and Dad going to the park with Ben and the baby?” She held the glove for Tony and he slid in his hand.

Ben watched, bemused. Her way was much better than his usual method, all but pinning his boy to the floor. And he still rarely maneuvered Tony’s thumb into the right spot.

“We haven’t eaten breakfast,” George said again.

“Too bad. You could both use the exercise after being cramped in cars and hotel rooms.”

Ben lifted Tony, absently kissing his forehead for the sake of keeping close contact. “You know you’re both welcome to stay here.” The last thing he wanted was the two of them in constant watch mode, but now that Amelia had said she couldn’t sleep surrounded by Faith’s memories, he offered without fear she’d accept.

“Thanks, but we tend to talk at night when we can’t sleep, and George wanders. He’d only annoy you.”

Amelia kissed Tony’s forehead, too. Appreciative of all the attention, Tony wrapped his arms around his father’s head.

“If you’re sure.” Aware of Isabel’s heavy suspicions, he was ashamed of playing both her and her parents. Last night, his plan had seemed like a good idea. When she decided to tell her parents everything about Faith and Will he’d know. The change in her would be as obvious as the twirl of a weather vane.

“I’d better get this little guy out of here.” Ben tried to pull Tony to a less tipsy position, but Tony liked perching above the world. He thumped Ben’s head, a small, mischievous snowman playing a convenient drum. “We may drop by the house later, Isabel, to see if you need any help.”

“Would you like a hand, Isabel?” Her mother’s anxious question softened Isabel’s glance.

“I have to do it all myself. Even if you could help, I’d have to look over everything first, because some items go back to Leah.”

“How is she?” George didn’t sound as if he really cared. As easy to read as his daughter’s, his tone asked how any woman could take to her bed rather than saying a last goodbye to her son. “On her feet again?”

“Dad.” Isabel said no more. They’d obviously discussed—even argued—about George’s attitude toward Leah.

To his shame, Ben felt a little satisfaction that Isabel and her parents weren’t entirely in sync.




CHAPTER FOUR


“RAY?” ELBOWS DEEP in a wardrobe full of sweaters, Isabel almost dropped her cell phone. She grabbed it as it slid off her shoulder. “This is Isabel Barker.”

“Isabel.” Ray’s welcome-back-to-town was unconditional and uncomplicated. “I tried to speak to you at the funerals, but you were so upset I’m not sure you saw me.”

She hadn’t. “I’m still troubled.” That was no lie. “I need to see you about legal matters between Will and me.”

“I’m glad you called. We do need to talk. Can I send you back to my receptionist to make an appointment?”

“I wish you’d meet with me today, Ray, if you can.”

He hesitated only a second. A long-ago friend of Will’s dad, he’d been more a father figure to both Will and her than an attorney. “Come now if you don’t mind talking over my lunch.”

“Thanks. I’m grateful.”

About twenty-five minutes later, she turned into the parking garage at Ray Paine’s marble-and-glass building off Dupont Circle. Hardly anyone noticed her as she padded across the polished entrance in sneakers. Designer sneakers that would fall apart at the first hint of a run, but still…

In the elevator, she punched the number for Ray’s floor. Determined to be strong from now on, being here reminded her how she used to fade into her husband’s background. She dreaded the receptionist’s greeting.

The woman had always had a soft spot for Will. The way she reacted to Isabel would show immediately whether Will had talked to Ray about a divorce. Isabel braced herself for open antagonism.

Her angst came to nothing. The doors opened on Ray’s private floor, and the receptionist’s desk stood empty in front of his open office. Isabel checked the hall. Up here, she’d be underdressed in jeans and a sweater.

Who gave a damn how she looked? She should have asked for this meeting before she’d scuttled off to Middleburg—hiding as if she’d done something wrong.

“Isabel? Is that you?”

Ray came out. Tall and spare and silver haired, he opened his arms. “I knew I heard the elevator. How are you?”

Relief swept her. Nothing had changed. Ray still loved her without resentment, which meant Will had kept his mouth shut. She’d have to explain. Telling him about her sister and her husband wouldn’t be easy, but at least Will hadn’t treated their friend to his cover story about her straying first.

“I’m okay, considering.” She hugged the older man, who offered a second squeeze for comfort. “Thanks again for seeing me.”

“Why haven’t you called? I can’t remember how long it’s been.” He looked closer. “Are you sleeping well?”

She stepped away. “I’ll be better after you and I talk. Have you finished eating?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Curiosity lifted his plush eyebrows. “You know me—work through lunch every day. Come in and we’ll talk. I’d absolutely love to share my salad.”

Despite their mutual sadness, Isabel found a smile for his sour tone. “You offer it as if you’re suggesting cyanide.”

“I hate the stuff, but Pam tells me I’m thickening at the middle.” He patted his stomach, but his grin turned sheepish as if humor might be improper. After all, she was a widow.

She just didn’t know how to grieve. “Pam?”

He glanced toward the receptionist’s desk. “My—uh—”

“Oh.” Pam must have a general weakness for powerful men. “You don’t look thick to me.”

“Ah, you’re a good friend. Your company will help the greens go down easier.”

Isabel followed him inside and sat carefully on a black leather armchair across from his perch on the edge of a matching sofa. With a plastic fork, he picked through a mound of salad in a take-out box. “We should discuss the will first.”

“I’m still in it?”

He looked up, eyebrows twitching. Spinach dropped off his fork. “Why?”

She touched her temples, fighting dizziness. “You didn’t know we were separated?” His welcome-back-to-town hadn’t been that at all. He hadn’t realized she’d left.

Ray worked out the changes in his head. She’d like to hear his thoughts out loud. What did this alter?

“Will never told me—and I might add, neither did you.” He dropped the fork and sat back, sliding his hands along the leather cushion. “I’m dumbfounded. When did this happen?”

“Three months ago. Will told me he’d fallen in love with—someone else, and I left our house. I’ve been in Middleburg since then.”

“You’re kidding.” He plucked steel-rimmed glasses off the coffee table and pushed them onto his nose. “Will never mentioned it. He made several appointments with me. Never said one word.” He waited for her to fill in the gaps.

“I’ll never be able to explain anything he did.” Her confusion only mortified her. “Why did he see you?”

“Business. Contracts he wanted me to check. A complaint against your home-owner’s association. He wanted to build a pool, but the architectural review board turned him down. I thought it was supposed to be a surprise for you.”

Faith’s voice whispered childishly in Isabel’s head. She remembered a night in their tent in the backyard. “When I grow up, I want a pool I can swim in every day,” Faith had said. Isabel had wanted a horse.

Naturally, Faith’s lover, who’d thought horses a waste of money and time, since he wasn’t going to play polo or learn to jump, had tried to put in a pool for her. They must have planned to share Isabel’s house. She resisted a sharp surge of pain. “You’re still my lawyer, too?”

“Do you want someone else to represent you?” Ray looked unhappy, which Isabel took as a good sign from a successful attorney.

“Not at all. I plan to cling to all the friends I can salvage.”

“I am your friend, Isabel. Maybe that’s why Will didn’t tell me. I was never likely to side with him.”

She frowned and tried to talk over a catch in her heartbeat. “Never? Are you saying he had other women before—this one?” He didn’t know yet that Will had loved her sister.

Ray shoved the salad farther onto the black marble table and stood. “I can’t believe Will had an affair.”

“I’m more surprised he didn’t tell you. I’ve been expecting divorce papers in the mail.”

“I’m not a divorce attorney, Isabel. And Ben had the good sense not to mention marriage or divorce.” He looked disgusted. “Don’t tell me the woman’s name. I’ve had enough of human nature, and I don’t want to be disappointed in anyone else I’ve cared for. Let’s get back to the estate.”

“Are you sure you can be fair now that you know the truth? I don’t want anything of Will’s, just what belongs to me.”

“You’re his prime beneficiary, and you’re in charge of his estate, Isabel. Everything he owned comes to you.”

“No.” She rubbed her chin against one shoulder. “Will was never that careless, and I’m not comfortable, considering we’d separated when he—at the time of the accident.” But this was an opportune moment to bring up Tony. “I have to tell you something I don’t want you to pass on to anyone else. Including Pam.”

“She’s not a paralegal.”

“I have to tell you about the other woman.”

“Are you sure?” He resettled his glasses, steeling himself for the worst. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. What are you going to tell me that I haven’t seen in my career?”

“It was my sister, Faith.”

“My God.”

Because none of her emotions were working as they should, she smiled, stunned to be the calm one. “I can’t thank you enough for being on my side, but brace yourself for more.”

“More? What else could they do?”

Ben wouldn’t want her draping his dirty laundry all over Ray’s thriving office. It brought her no pleasure, either.

“Faith’s son, Tony, is actually Will’s natural son.”

“Will’s natural…” Ray linked his fingers as if he were praying. “That boy’s got to be a year and a half old.”

Meaning they’d been seeing each other for-damn-ever. “Exactly. I’d like you to separate everything as if we had divorced.”

“Because you want to give it to your husband’s illegitimate child? I can’t.” He spun away from her and ended up at his desk. He picked up a crystal globe on a plinth and then replaced it. Likewise, an ornate marble-colored pen and pencil set on his desk. “I won’t give your future away.”





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