Laurie Paige - The Housekeeper's Daughter p.02

Four

Wednesday morning, Joe Colton answered the doorbell himself instead of waiting for Inez to emerge from wherever she was working in the house. Thaddeus Law, the local police detective assigned to the Colton shooting stood there, looking grim.

Reacting from gut instinct, Joe steeled himself for bad news. "Come in," he said and led the way into his study. "Coffee?" he asked the lawman, who was in his mid-thirties but looked older, as if he'd led a hard life.

Losing his wife in an airplane crash and trying to raise a preschooler on his own had probably contributed a few worry lines to the man's face. However, Thaddeus had recently wed Heather McGrath, Joe's personal assistant and daughter of Peter McGrath, Joe's foster brother, so presumably the detective now lived a happier life.

"That would be good," Thaddeus replied, removing his hat and placing it on his knee as he took the chair Joe indicated. "It's drizzly and chilly again, a day to stay inside before a fire."

He nodded toward the fireplace where a blaze crackled merrily, dispelling the dampness of the morning.

"Yes, another cold front moved in last night." Joe poured coffee from an insulated carafe into two mugs, then added a third when he saw Drake at the door. "Come on in, son. You know Thaddeus, don't you?"

"Of course." Drake entered and shook hands with the detective before taking the coffee cup. He settled in a chair next to Thaddeus, his gaze intelligent and alert. Joe's heart warmed with pride and love.

"Do you have any news?" Drake asked the lawman.

"Yes." Thaddeus turned to Joe. "Is your wife available?"

Joe wasn't surprised that Meredith's presence was requested. The police had questioned her extensively after the attempt on his life. It was a sorry state of affairs when a man was forced to face the fact that his own wife might be guilty of wanting his demise. Once he would have dismissed that notion as absurd, but truth to tell, he no longer knew what she would do.

"I'll ring for her," he said. Using the intercom connected to the phone, he called his wife.

She answered sleepily, irritation in her voice. Joe told her Thaddeus was with him in the den and she was needed. A long pause ensued, then she informed him she would be a few minutes.

Forcing a smile, he told the other two men Meredith would be there in about twenty minutes.

He was fifteen minutes short on his estimation.

She swept into the den on a wave of the expensive perfume he'd given her last Christmas. Her black pantsuit was elegant, as were all her clothes. Gone were the days of jeans and sneakers, of running in the sun, her laughter teasing him and the children as they chased after her.

"Coffee?" he asked, suppressing the memories that haunted him more and more of late as the new generation married and had children of their own. The lonely path of old age loomed before him.

"Please." She studied Thaddeus disdainfully. "What are you doing here? Have you found Emily?"

"No, ma'am," the detective replied in his polite manner. "It's about a different matter."

Neither the gravity of the lawman's voice nor his impressive size appeared to intimidate Meredith. She accepted the cup and sat gracefully on the loveseat, her eyebrows raised slightly as she waited for the lawman to continue, her manner regal. Joe found it embarrassing. The old Meredith, the woman he remembered, or maybe had fantasized, would have been warmly welcoming.

"Mrs. Colton, do you have any idea where your twin now resides?"

The coffee splashed all over the table and rug as the cup fell with a clatter into its saucer. She stared at the detective, at first seemingly horrified, then her face became livid with anger. "Why are you prying into my past?" she demanded instead of answering the odd question.

"We investigate everyone who might have a motive in murder," he explained calmly. "Our records show there were two daughters born to your parents—twin girls, Meredith and Patsy. Checking further, we also discovered that Patsy Portman was once incarcerated for murder. At eighteen, she killed the man who was father to her child."

"My God," Joe muttered, shocked almost to stupefaction by the news. He automatically sopped up the spilled coffee with several napkins, his mind reeling at the revelations.

Glancing at Drake, Joe felt a deep sorrow. While he had been disillusioned about his wife long ago, it was still a sad day when a child lost faith in a parent. But there was no time to dwell on it and no way to protect his son, Joe realized. Drake was a man, one who'd seen his share of trouble in the world.

"Later," Thaddeus went on relentlessly, "she was transferred to a clinic for the…" Here, he did pause for an instant. "…insane."

Joe exhaled sharply as shock rolled over him again.

"Mother, is this true?" Drake broke in, disbelief rampant as he tried to comprehend this new development.

Aware of his own disjointed thoughts, he glanced at his father, afraid such news would give the older man a heart attack. His father looked resigned, almost defeated, his expression the bleakest Drake had ever witnessed.

His mother glared at him. "What of it? It had nothing to do with me. Nothing!"

Drake shook his head as the realization sank in that the police report was accurate, that this wasn't some kind of bad joke.

"Where is she, this twin you've never bothered to mention?" Joe asked, his voice low and hoarse, the strain evident in the way he held himself.

Suddenly her composure crumpled and she put her hands over her face. "She's dead. She's been dead for years."

Drake and Joe looked to Thaddeus for confirmation. The detective shrugged. "Mrs. Colton, is there anything to verify your sister's death, such as hospital records or a burial site?"

Drake recoiled from his mother's expression when she lifted her head. She looked almost insane, as feral as a house cat gone wild, her eyes glinting dangerously. Then she smiled triumphantly and the impression was gone.

"Wait, I remember something!" She leaped to her feet. "I have a letter from the clinic, the St. James Clinic. I can get it. I've kept it all these years."

When she dashed into the hall, the lawman followed. Drake glanced at his father. Both of them went after the other two. The day's revelations apparently weren't over.

Both he and his father pressed close as Thaddeus read the letter, which was on the clinic's letterhead. It offered condolences over Patsy Portman's death and spoke of her unhappy state of mind and suggested she had gone on to a more peaceful life than the one the young woman had led here on Earth. The body had been cremated and the ashes scattered in the Pacific, as she had requested.

"She blamed me," Meredith said when the three men looked at her. "I wouldn't lie for her at the trial. She said I had betrayed her."

"Why didn't you ever tell us, tell me about her?" Joe asked, his face as grim as a death mask.

"Patsy begged me not to tell anyone about her. Later, after she'd been at the clinic for several months, she said she wanted the family to forget she ever existed, that her life was nothing—"

With a little cry of despair, she swayed and reached out a hand toward them. Drake caught her before she fell into a faint.

"Put her on the bed," Joe said. "I'll tend to her."

"I need to keep the letter, sir," Thaddeus said after they had made Meredith as comfortable as they could. "To go in the file."

Nodding, Joe covered his wife with an afghan. Drake brought a damp cloth from the bathroom and laid it on her forehead. "I'll get Inez."

"Yes, please," his father said. "Then I want to talk to Thaddeus and clarify a few more details."

After learning all that was known from the detective, Drake went to his own room to sort through his mixed-up thoughts and impressions. One thing for sure—his homecomings were becoming more and more fraught with surprises.

After thinking things over, then making sure his mother was still in bed, the housekeeper with her, he checked the time. It was past noon back East. He picked up the phone and dialed Washington, D.C.

His brother's wife and research assistant answered the law office number on the first ring.

"Lucy? This is Drake. Is Rand available?"

"Well, hello! Yes, I'll put him right on."

Drake liked his older brother's new wife. She didn't waste a lot of time on chitchat and foolish questions.

"Hey, bro," Rand said a minute later. "Where are you?"

"At the family homestead," Drake said with more than a trace of irony. "We've had some interesting disclosures here this morning."

"Oh?" Rand said, detectable caution in the word.

"There's more to our mother than meets the eye." Drake informed Rand of the lawman's visit, the shocking news, the letter concerning the death and their mother's fainting spell. "Comments?" he finished.

Rand cleared his throat. "I was the one who sent Dad the message that Emily was okay."

This non sequitur gave Drake pause. Knowing his brother and that there had to be a connection, he asked, "You've been in contact with her?"

"Yeah. She asked me not to reveal her whereabouts. I'd tell you, but, uh, not over the phone."

"Good thinking," Drake agreed. "The way things stand, I don't trust anything or anyone right now."

"Listen, Drake, you remember that Em thought there were two Merediths—the good one and the evil one—back when she and Mom were in that car wreck?"

A chill swept up Drake's neck. "Yeah."

"This confirms that possibility, doesn't it?"

Drake muttered an expletive. "I can't believe…" He let the thought trail off. The problem was, he could believe in the weird possibility that their mother was an impostor.

Rand picked up on the idea. "The evil twin. Seems like something out of a bad movie."

"You believe Emily?"

His brother let out a loud sigh. "Enough that I've had Austin McGrath check into Mother's background."

"You knew and didn't say a word?" Drake demanded, realizing why his brother hadn't sounded surprised. "You knew about the twin…and the murder?"

"And the clinic for the insane, yes," Rand confirmed. "Lucy found out recently. I've had a bit more time to absorb this, but believe me, I was as shocked as you and Dad. I've asked Austin to see if he could find out what happened to the twin, but so far, no trace. I suppose, if she's dead, there isn't more to find out."

"If she's dead?"

Rand didn't immediately reply. "What if Mother's dead and her twin took her place? That would explain Em's vision of two Merediths."

Drake released a pent-up breath. "The implications are pretty awful."

"Yeah. Mother may have been murdered."

"Ten years with all of us living with an impostor? Surely Dad would have guessed…No, it's too bizarre."

"I, uh, don't believe our parents have slept together in a number of years. They've had separate bedrooms since, well, I can't remember when, but a long time."

"Yeah, that's right, since before Teddy was born. I remember being kind of shocked when I came home one time and found out." Drake cursed again.

"Same here," Rand said in understanding. "Lucy and I have gone over this in every detail. We think Em is onto something. The question is, what?"

Drake thought for a minute. "With identical twins, you can't tell who's who from a DNA test, right?"

"Right. Not unless there was something that was traceable in the blood, such as an immunity to some rare disease that the other hadn't been exposed to."

After an hour of speculation and surmises, they decided they needed more information. "Keep me posted on anything Austin finds out," Drake said. "I'll let you know what happens on this end."

"Will do."

"You know what bothers me? If this woman, this evil twin, took Mother's place, does that mean she ran Mom and Emily off the road, killed Mom and hid the body somewhere near the wreck, then pretended to be the good sister?"

Rand paused only a second. "That's what Emily believes. She thinks the evil twin hired someone to kill her because of her memories of the accident. She also thinks the same person was hired to kill Dad."

Drake briefly closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It just keeps getting worse and worse, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Drake? Be careful," Rand advised, causing the hair on Drake's neck to prickle. "How long are you in for?"

"I have a two-month leave. I can take more for a family emergency if needed. Did you know Maya is, uh, pregnant?"

"Dad mentioned it," Rand admitted, a touch of humor in his voice for the first time. "Forgive me for being indelicate, but could it be yours?"

"Yeah, but I haven't wrung a confession out of her. You know how stubborn women can be."

"Mmm, are you two getting married?"

"Well, I've offered. She thinks marriage would be a mistake." Drake thought of the warm, loving Maya of eight months ago. It caused his insides to ache in ways he couldn't explain. Not that he would tell his brother or anyone else the strange pangs he felt around Maya.

"I can identify with that," Rand admitted with a low chuckle. "Tell her I said to stop being so damn stubborn. I want my niece or nephew properly in the family."

"It's a girl," Drake said, his tone a lot lighter than he felt. "I'll give her your sage advice. Give your Lucy and Max my regards."

Rand promised he would and hung up. Drake pulled on a coat and went outside. Action was required. A walk on the beach would blow away the cobwebs in his head.

The sky was overcast, the air heavy with the chill moisture brought down from Alaska on the ocean currents as he crossed the patio. He headed down the sloping lawn toward the cliffs where the low cloud bank obscured the shore in a haze of mist. He nearly fell over a figure sitting on the steps leading to the shore.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you," Maya said, huddling deeper into a dark wool shawl that all but obliterated her.

The cold place inside him warmed slightly. He dropped down to the step beside her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I just came out for a breath of air and to be alone—" She stopped as if this confession might be construed as a weakness on her part.

"I was feeling the same. I needed some thinking time."

She started to rise. "I'll leave you to it."

He caught her arm. "Don't go. I have something I want to ask."

Her beautiful dark eyes turned toward him, suspicion in their depths. Once she had looked at him in total trust. Eight months ago. It seemed a lifetime.

"You've known my family all your life—"

"Yes?" she said when he stopped.

"Have you noticed anything different about my mother during that time? Do you think she's changed?"

She stared first at him, then out at the swirling mist covering the sea. "Everyone changes with time."

He made an impatient sound. "Yes, but not drastically. Values stay generally the same. And disposition. Have her moods, her way of behaving, changed a lot?"

"Have they to you?"

He considered the past. "Yes. When I was a kid, we used to ride and play games and picnic on the beach. Later…things were different here. But I was away at college and was never really home except for brief periods after that."

Maya nodded. "I do remember her as warmer, friendlier. Lana and I weren't allowed to intrude on your family and with the age differences between us kids, we didn't play much together."

"Except for the baseball games when we rounded up everyone we could find to make up two teams," he reminded her. "You were a good player. For a girl."

He felt somewhat better when she flashed him a brief smile, then gazed back at the sea. "As an employee, I see Ms. Meredith differently than you would as a child of the family. Rank and privilege and all that," she said lightly.

"Right. Cinderella and Prince Charming." He couldn't help the sarcasm. She got to him faster than any female he'd ever met.

A blush tinged her smooth cheeks.

"Is that what you think of our family, that we're a bunch of snobs?"

"Of course not. Your father is a wonderful person. He's never made anyone feel less than a friend."

"But the same can't be said of my mother?"

She was silent.

"And me? How do you see me?" he demanded, his voice going husky as he was consumed by a need to know.

He touched her hair, which was damp with the mist, its waves deep and enticing. Hunger sprang to life, driving out all but the need to bury himself in her and forget the current perplexities in his world. Except she was part of them. He withdrew his hand reluctantly.

Twisting, she faced him, her eyes level with his. "You're a man used to going his own way. Alone."

"A person can get tired of being alone," he said, surprising himself as much as her. Reaching out, he ran his fingertips along her cheek, then under her chin and tilted her face up a bit. Her lips were naturally pink and luscious. Kissable.

"Maya," he murmured.

Some of the need and confusion he felt after the revealing morning must have shown in his eyes.

"Please don't," she whispered.

But he couldn't help himself. He slipped his hand into her hair and behind her head and pulled her forward as he leaned toward her. Heat flooded through him, melting the cold, achy place. With the heat came the need, the fierce but scary need that he couldn't afford to feel. A man with no future couldn't afford tender feelings.

"Don't need you? Don't want you?" he questioned. "It would be easier to cut off my right arm. I keep remembering last summer and the way it was. I want it like that again."

She shook her head, her face closed against him.

With fingers that trembled, he turned her toward him. Her eyes were misty with tears. She closed them and held very still, as if she were trapped there, somewhere between the devil and the deep blue sea.

And he was the devil.

"Ah, God," he said and realized it really was a prayer. He just didn't know for what. "I never meant to hurt you."

"You didn't. It—it was only my own foolish dreams that did that."

She tried to turn away again, but he wouldn't, couldn't, let her. There were things to be said between them. There was the child's future to think of.

"I've made a will," he said. "You and the child are my heirs. I've saved some money since I got out of college and there's a trust fund from my parents for each of us kids."

That got her attention. She turned on him angrily. "I don't want your money! How dare—That you would even think—As if money could—" She collected herself with a visible effort. "I don't need your money. I can take care of myself and the baby."

She looked so fierce, so insulted, so damn beautiful, he couldn't stop what happened next. He kissed her.

As if he were dying and she was the breath of life. As if he couldn't get enough of her. As if he would never let her go.

When she struggled to rise, he rose with her, continuing the wild, foolish kiss that his heart demanded.

Curving his body around her rounded tummy, he felt their child kick vigorously, whether in delight or protest, he didn't know. A surge of pride rolled into the passion he couldn't suppress. She stood stiffly in his arms. He eased the kiss but couldn't quite give it up yet.

Suddenly, she softened and with a little moan, laid her hands on his chest, to touch him, he realized. She wasn't pushing him away. Triumph blazed in him.

Folding her in his arms, he savored the smoothness of her lips, the sweetness of her mouth. Eight months of dreams narrowed to this single moment of bliss.

He ran his hands up and down her back and into the thick waves of her hair. The tactile sense of her, the taste and scent, the bliss of her being, her existence, fed that inner place where need dwelt. He slanted his mouth this way and that upon her lips.

Maya fought against responding, but it was useless. This was Drake. He was part of her life, of her dreams and expectations of the future. She sensed the powerful hunger in his lean, hard frame. More than that, she knew there were feelings between them. They had shared too much to be indifferent. But was need enough?

She sighed when he moved down her throat, pulling her shawl aside to place random kisses on her neck. Putting her arms around him, she rubbed his shoulders and into his hair, soothing something raw and hurting in him almost the way she would have had he been one of the youngest Colton boys.

However, her body reacted far differently. Drake was a man, and she responded as a woman to him. She wanted the passion and the fire. She'd missed his arms and the strength of his body surrounding hers in heady desire. She'd missed the hot, hot hunger that blazed to life at the slightest touch between them.

Resting against the railing, she let the kiss take her to that place of dreams and hopes. If only love could be enough, she thought sadly, and realized it wasn't. Only Drake could overcome the strange darkness she sensed within him. Only he could take that one giant step forward into the sunshine of life. He had to want a future in order for there to be one.

Tears crowded behind her closed eyes. She wanted so much for him…for them and their little girl.

"Marry me," he whispered, raising his head and staring into her eyes as if he would control her with his will.

She shook her head. "I can't."

"Why? Dammit, why?"

"You have to want it, too."

"I do."

"You don't. Not really."

He gripped her shoulders, but his touch remained gentle. "If not for us, then for her," he said, grabbing whatever argument he could, fair or not. He ran his hands over her abdomen.

She looked at him in mute despair, shredding his heart into confusion and anger and lots of other things.

"You want me," he reminded her, slipping his hands inside the shawl and touching her breasts, taking their weight and measuring their fullness in his palms.

Maya couldn't lie. "Yes, but sometimes a person wants too much."

"Such as?" he asked almost absently, as if his entire attention was focused on her body and its changes as he explored her new contours.

"I don't know," she admitted with a tiny gasp as her nipples contracted swiftly, painfully.

The familiar heat flamed in her. The delicious softening of her body and her will followed.

Drake felt no flash of triumph as she yielded to the passion between them. The feelings were too deep for that, going beyond anything he'd ever experienced with any woman. That was what had put him on the run last June, sending him scurrying off on the dangerous mission in relief. Thinking, planning, acting—those things had kept the turbulent emotions at bay. For a while.

"You make me vulnerable," he accused. "I can't afford that. It's not good for my job."

"Or your life. Need puts a person at risk."

He experienced the jab of truth in her words. On some level, she seemed to know him better than he knew himself. "Yes. A man has to think carefully and plan ahead."

Maya caressed his cheeks. "But the feelings are there, Drake, whether you acknowledge them or not. You have to learn to live with them."

He frowned. Confusion darted through his eyes. She smiled with a sadness that went soul deep. Although she wasn't exactly sure what she meant, she knew Drake had to come to terms with his inner self before he could take on a wife and child. She didn't even know how she had come by this knowledge, but it was there, inside her, all the same.

Slowly he let her go, his expression grim and now closed to her. "Go," he said hoarsely. "Go before I take you to the alcove whether you want to come or not."

"I know you better than that, and you don't know yourself at all if you think you might force me."

"I could make you want to go willingly," he said in blunt honesty.

She shook her head. "If I come to you, it will be by my will, none other. You wouldn't accept less."

"I'd accept whatever you would give."

"Go find your soul, Drake. Then come to me and share your heart." She managed a smile.

Touching his mouth gently, she told him silently of her love, which had never died, she now knew, then she turned and walked up the steps and across the lawn to her lonely room. If she were going to make a future for the baby, she had to study.




Five

"Uh, you going to town this morning?" Drake asked the housekeeper as she bustled out of the house, struggling to pull on a jacket. She'd gone to town for groceries every Thursday morning for as long as he could remember.

She stopped and smiled at him, the usual affection in her eyes. Drake felt immediately better.

"Yes," she said. "I have to get groceries for this crew. They insist on eating several times a day."

Drake managed a chuckle and held the jacket for her. "Okay if I ride along?"

Her dark eyes raked over his face, but she nodded without asking about the vintage pickup he'd bought and restored to gleaming perfection years ago. He walked to the ranch wagon and climbed in when she did.

"Maya will be along in a moment," Inez informed him. "She had errands, too, and volunteered to help with the groceries."

His heart leaped about, banging off the walls of his chest until he got it under control again. Glancing to the side, he saw Maya emerge from the main house, then hesitate when her eyes met his. He sensed her reluctance even as she walked forward. He jumped out of the station wagon and held the door.

"Your chariot awaits," he said, not very originally but suddenly his mind couldn't get a grasp on words.

She nodded curtly and slid inside. He did the same.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, forced to scoot over so he could get in.

"Drake needs a ride to town," Inez explained. She put the car in gear and started off.

"Here's your seat belt," Drake said and helped Maya into the contraption, careful to place it below the swell of her abdomen. He repressed an urge to caress her there and fastened his own seat belt instead.

Inez chatted on the way to Prosperino, but Maya sat in stubborn silence, a disapproving frown on her face. Drake responded to the housekeeper's remarks, his entire left side burning from Maya's nearness.

Last night, after she'd gone to her room and closed the door, he'd roamed the house, unable to settle for thinking about her remarks out on the cliff stairs.

Find his soul? How? Where did a person begin looking?

He thought of the darkness deep within. Was that where his soul resided? If so, it was a place he didn't want to disturb. It brought nothing but memories and pain.

Haunted by her advice and rejection, he'd fled his room at midnight and drove to town.

After a couple of beers—okay, maybe three or four—at the local bar, he'd run into Thaddeus Law at the door. The lawman had insisted on taking him home, thinking he'd had one too many.

It occurred to Drake that Maya knew of the incident and that was why every glance was filled with disapproval.

"I was in town last night for an hour or so," he said, watching for a reaction. "I needed to get away and…think about things."

"I heard," Inez told him when her daughter failed to acknowledge his statement. "Heather said Thaddeus brought you home. That's how I knew you'd be wanting to pick up the truck this morning."

Maya had already heard Heather, Thaddeus Law's bride and Joe Colton's personal assistant, teasing Drake about his big night out on the town while she set the table for breakfast that morning. What he did was his business, she'd reminded herself, ignoring the jab of worry.

"I stumbled coming out the door, so ol' Thaddeus decided I'd had one too many," Drake said on a note of exasperation and amusement. "He was determined, and it was easier to go along with him than fight."

"Thaddeus is a naturally protective man," Inez said. "Since he married Heather he's been even more concerned with solving the mysteries involving the Colton family." She paused. "Especially Emily's whereabouts. I have to admit to worrying about her, a child off on her own like that."

Maya felt the quick tightening of Drake's muscles, then the deliberate way he relaxed as he agreed with her mother about the detective's attitude and the concern over Emily. She stole a glance at him.

His gaze met hers, but absently, as if he were lost in thought. He didn't seem too worried about his sister, which wasn't like him. Drake was also a protective person, and Emily was only twenty. She'd left the ranch with only the clothes on her back and not much else.

"You know something," she said on a sudden hunch.

"I know Emily is okay. I talked to Rand yesterday."

Maya gasped. "Has she been in contact with Rand?"

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

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

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

"Do you?" he challenged.

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

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

"But Mother changed too much," he concluded.

"Perhaps, but who knows another's heart?"

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I have to get back. I've got a test coming up."

"We'll go straight to the ranch," he promised.

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

"Don't be angry with your mother. I told her I would bring you. I want to talk—"

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

"Then you can listen."

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

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

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

He laughed without humor. "I wasn't very careful with you," he reminded her.

She had no retort for that.

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

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

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

"You can't know that for sure."

"I know inexperience when I see it. You hadn't the foggiest notion of how to proceed."

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

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

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

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

"I'd never made love before—"

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

"I'd had sex," he said in a harsher tone, "but not…not what we shared."

Maya clenched her hands together. "Don't. You don't have to say that."

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

She shook her head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know. I'm sorry I said that. It was hateful."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

"Maya!" Teddy yelled again.

"In here," she called in a softer voice, rising.

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

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

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

"Oh, Joe," she said.

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

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

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

"Yes. Uh, I guess we'd better go change clothes and do some studying now."

"I think that would be an excellent idea."

"Can I stay with Drake?" Teddy asked.

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

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

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

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

"Isn't this report card day?" Meredith asked.

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

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

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

"What is that?" Meredith demanded. "What is this grade in math?"

"Joe says he got mixed up on the percentage problems. We'll go over them this weekend—"

Meredith slapped the reports on the coffee table.

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

"I'm sorry," Maya answered carefully, keeping her tone neutral. "We'll go over the problems—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drake took two steps and caught her arm. "I'm sorry," he said, his manner gentle.

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

His smile was sad, sort of ironic. "I'm not sure. For Mother, I suppose, and her attitude."

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

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

"You shouldn't quarrel with your family because of me," she said, filled with concern. "Family is important."

"Marissa is my family now."

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

Who are you?

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

Burying her face in her hands, she wept, her heart in pieces. "I can't take it anymore," she whispered. "I can't. I can't. I can't."

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

"Then let it go," Martha advised.

Louise frowned at the other woman. "Just like that?"

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

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

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

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

"And the dark man?"

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

"Give it a rest," Martha reiterated.

"I think I'm going to have to. I just can't keep searching and getting nowhere. And yet, sometimes I feel so close to the edge. Like last night during the storm. I actually went to the door, positive I would see this girl—woman—standing there, calling for me. Why can't I remember? Why?"

"We can try hypnosis and regression once more," Martha suggested, but doubtfully.

"I can't get past the day I woke up at the clinic in California. I don't know what I was doing out there when it appears I lived in a trailer park here at one time."

Martha shook her head. "I read over your record last week. Maybe it would shed some light if we had all your old records, but they were destroyed by fire. I have reached one conclusion."

Louise looked a question at her friend.

"Whatever you may have been in the past, you are not bipolar at the present, nor do you suffer from multiple personality disorder as the records suggest. Other than the memory loss, I'd say you're one of the most balanced people I've ever known. Sometimes I wonder if there were two of you, one who was mentally unstable and another who was not."

Louise smiled ironically. "Which one am I, Doctor?"

"Oh, you're sane enough," Martha assured her. "Could you have had a twin?"

"Well, if I did, I haven't seen her in my nightmares."

"I wish we had the old records. Those could tell us so much. If we only knew for sure that you were born fifty-two years ago in California, then we might find out about your family."

"It sounds crazy that I can't remember the year or the place I was born."

"Patience," the doctor advised, her frown changing to a smile. "Time is on our side."

"But what about that of the red-haired girl? Last night I had a terrible feeling time was running out for her."

"Let's work on your problem first. I want you to mentally say 'No!' each time you start worrying about your past. Refuse to let your conscious mind dwell on it. We'll let your subconscious work on the task in the background. Meanwhile, you're to relax and have some fun. What happened to that guy you were dating?"

"He's a friend, but that's all. Without a past, I'm not sure I have a future."

"I don't want to hear that kind of talk. At some point, you'll have to get on with your life, with memories or without. That's the way life is."

Out on the storm-swept street, Louise admitted the doctor was right, but something inside her, in her heart, said there was once a great love in her life.

"Come back to me," she whispered to the dark lover from her past. "No!" she said, recalling her instructions.

But warmth spread through her as she zipped her jacket against the wind.




Six

"You don't have time for roping," Maya reminded the boys Saturday morning. "Mr. Martin will be here soon."

Joe Junior and Teddy gave her sullen glances, reverting to the spoiled brats they became when their mother overindulged them as she did in moments of frenzied attention. Last night had been an example. Ms. Meredith had let them have extra dessert before bedtime, then had countermanded Maya's orders for bed and let them stay up late to watch a movie not suited to their ages.

"I'll ask Mother," Joe said in a manner that made her want to shake him.

"She's visiting friends for the weekend," Joe Senior, said, coming into the living room from his den. Drake was with him. "You would do well to mind Maya. Or would you rather be grounded for a week?"

The boys dropped their whiny manner. "No, sir," they both said respectfully.

Maya was relieved to hear a car approaching. "That must be Andy. We'll study in my room," she told the boys.

"Okay if the boys join me for some more roping after they finish their studies?" Drake asked.

Maya met his opaque gaze without flinching. "That will be fine. If they want to."

"Sure!" the boys shouted, sunny once more.

Maya hated the stiff, ill-at-ease way she sounded with Drake. But then, she'd never had a course in how to treat a former lover. Feeling huge, she turned and walked outside while her two charges headed down the hall to her room.

Joe Senior, watched the boys with a stern expression on his face while Drake fell into step with her, opening the front door and playing the gentleman, his handsome face solemn while shadows flickered through his eyes.

For a moment—one of total insanity—she wanted to take him into her arms and hold him…just hold him.

Eyes blurred, she nearly tripped on the step. Drake's arm was there immediately to catch her. His strength engulfed her and she felt safe, as if she'd sailed through stormy seas and found her haven at last. She closed her eyes as longing and need and a thousand other emotions churned through her.

"Maya," he murmured, sounding as desperate as she felt.

She blinked the too-ready tears away and gazed into his eyes. A mistake, that. She saw, for the briefest instant, his vulnerability and the unhappiness he hid behind his calm, capable manner.

Her heart banged against her ribcage, causing a pain similar to the one she'd felt when he'd told her of his twin's death.

"Maya," he said again.

She felt his need and her own and answered in the only way she knew how—by offering him the comfort of her touch. With trembling fingers, she gently caressed his shoulder.

A car door slammed. Every nerve in her body jumped, and she stepped back, back from the sheer craziness his touch induced in her heart. A shaky sigh escaped her.

Andy's face lit in a smile at seeing her, then sobered as he glanced at Drake. The muscles in his jaw hardened and he looked Drake over like a rival stag he'd like to dispatch with an angry charge, but he nodded politely. "Drake," he said by way of acknowledging the other man.

"Andy Martin, isn't it?" Drake said, equally polite.

"Yes. It's been a few years," Andy said.

"Since high-school football days. You were a couple of years behind me, as I recall."

"Three. Maya and I were classmates."

"If you're ready," Maya abruptly interrupted the exchange, keeping her eyes on Andy and ignoring Drake. "Did you have time to research some problems for Johnny?"

"Yes. I'll get them. Uh, Mrs. Colton called and said her boys needed some help." His tone questioned Maya.

"Yes. Joe didn't do well on his exam in math. Can you tutor them on Saturdays, too?"

"Yes, it's already been arranged." His glance was apologetic.

Maya smiled to assure him she didn't mind that the boys' mother had gone over her head and dealt directly with Andy on the problem.

"Who's Johnny?" Drake wanted to know.

"I'm helping Maya tutor one of her Hopechest kids," Andy answered.

Maya explained about Johnny Collins and her concerns over him and her hopes for his future when Drake seemed interested in the boy.

"Let's bring him out to the ranch on Saturdays," he suggested. "He can study with the boys, then join us for roping lessons in the afternoon, if he'd like."

Maya considered. "That might be good. Skills in one area often translate into confidence in other areas. Johnny has good coordination and should do well."

"Great. Why don't we start today? How do I arrange to get him out to the ranch?"

"Let me get Joe and Teddy started with Andy, then I'll call the Hopechest. Ready?" she asked Andy.

He retrieved a briefcase from his car and followed her to her room where the two boys waited. They greeted their new tutor with less than enthusiasm.

Maya could relate to that. Feeling restless and agitated, she wanted freedom instead of responsibility.

Usually her seven-days-a-week duty didn't bother her, but she felt a need to get outside and walk until the nervous energy was dissipated and she could come to terms with the ridiculous emotions Drake generated in her rebellious heart. That organ needed a lecture on proper behavior around him.

Leaving Andy with the boys, she went to her mother's desk in the kitchen and called the children's ranch to see if Johnny could come out for the day.

Having arranged that, she realized she would have to tell Drake. She found him out in the corral. Like her, he expended his extra energy outdoors, this morning working with a golden gelding while River James observed.

Maya stopped at the railing beside River, the ranch foreman and a former foster child taken in by Joe and Meredith Colton years ago. River was now Drake's brother-in-law. Drake's sister, Sophie, had been pregnant when she and River had wed last summer. Maya stifled a sudden longing to seek out Sophie and confide her worries to the other woman and ask her what she should do.

"He's good with animals," River said.

"All the Coltons are," she agreed. "It must run in the blood." She wondered what traits her child would inherit from Drake, then realized that hurt too much to think about. "How's Penny? Is her ear okay after the bee sting?"

"Yes." River switched his sea-green gaze to her.

"Are you all right after your wild ride?" he asked in the quiet, thoughtful way he had.

Maya nodded. "No harm done."

Except for what had been done to her heart, she thought before she could block it. Her gaze went to Drake. He looked at home in the saddle. Did he also look that way with a gun in his hand, fighting his way through one hell after another?

Survivor guilt because his twin died? Was that the root of his choosing the most dangerous career available? That would explain the darkness and the sense of sorrow she sometimes detected within him.

At that moment he rode over to the fence. "He's a good mount," he told River. "Rides like a gentleman."

River nodded. "I'll take him now. I think Maya has news for you."

Maya frowned at River, not sure what he meant. He smiled slightly, then dropped to the ground on the other side of the rail and took the horse's reins. Drake vaulted over the fence and stood close to her, waiting, his gaze roaming over her in familiar ways.

"Johnny can come out to the ranch on weekends. You'll have to go over and pick him up."

"Ride with me."

"What?"

"Ride over with me. You know what the kid looks like. He'll probably feel more at ease with you present."

"I'm not supposed to leave the boys."

A sardonic smile touched the corners of his mouth.

"Your teacher friend will be with them for an hour. That's plenty of time."

For what, part of her wanted to ask.

Although his eyes hinted at passion carefully controlled, she really didn't think he was thinking of seduction. Who would, with her present condition? She looked like a blimp. And felt worse. She sighed.

"Back hurting?"

She shook her head.

"Then let's go."

She hesitated. "Let me tell Andy where I'm going. And Mom. She tends to worry about me."

"Don't we all?" Drake remarked softly behind her.

After casting him a quelling glance, she hurried to the kitchen, told her mother of her plans and asked her to tell Andy if he came looking for her. A few minutes later she was sitting in the pickup that Drake had bought and restored years ago. She wondered why he hadn't traded it for a flashy sports car.

"You've been home almost a week, a week tomorrow," she said without thinking.

"Are you wondering when I'll leave?"

"Yes."

He snorted at her stiff reply. "I have a couple of months leave, more if I need it," he said cryptically.

She wondered why he would need more. "You've never stayed more than a week or two in the past."

"I've never had a pregnant woman to deal with before," he said as if this explained everything.

"You don't have one now."

"Oh, yes, I do."

His sudden laughter, soft and sexy, grated over her nerves, and she felt near tears. "Don't."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

She didn't understand any of the nuances between them, the flashes of insight, the longing, the desire. They arrived at the Hopechest Ranch without further conversation. Johnny was waiting on the porch at the office. She greeted him and went inside to sign him out.

Back at the pickup, she realized why she shouldn't have come. Drake shooed her over to the middle so Johnny could get in. He made sure she was buckled in, then spoke to the teenager. Maya introduced them.

"Thanks for having me over," Johnny said, eagerness in his dark eyes. "Sure beats doing chores around here."

"We'll have chores, too," Drake said. "I promised River we'd muck out all the stables this weekend. He's short of help since a couple of his best hands eloped." He chuckled. "It's a hazard of modern times, having to hire both male and female wranglers."

Maya made herself as small as possible on the ride back to the Colton spread, but that didn't stop her from being intensely aware of each lurch of the truck that caused her shoulder or thigh to brush his. His frequent glances told her he felt the heat, too.

She practically pushed Johnny out of the vehicle and into the house when they arrived. After introducing him to her mother, who set him down to a glass of milk and warm cinnamon rolls before he began his studies, Maya took her student to Andy and the boys.

Her nerves settled down as she went over the familiar territory of lesson plans and practice drills. By noon, she felt in control once more.

Until lunch. Drake was in the kitchen when she and Andy entered with their three charges.

"Drake," Teddy shouted, so obviously happy to see his older brother it made Maya ache. "Can we practice roping after lunch? Johnny is going to try it, too, aren't you?" he said to his newfound friend.

"Indoor voice, please," she reminded the youth.

"One hour of roping, then two hours of mucking the stables." Drake grinned, looking so handsome it made the ache surge through Maya again.

Really, she had to get over this roller-coaster emotional thing around Drake. When the baby was born, when she got her degree, when she left, things would be better.

The thought of leaving caused a separate ache all its own. Catching Drake's observant gaze on her, she put on a smile and supervised lunch.

Drake gritted his teeth at the familiar clenching sensation deep inside each time he looked at Maya. He noted her ease with her fellow teacher and the way she avoided looking his way. Something hot and angry burned in him.

He wanted to snatch her away from all other males, including the teenager who looked at her with adoration in his eyes and his younger brothers who vied for her attention like two pups wanting to be petted. But most of all, he admitted, he wanted her away from the other adult male who obviously had her complete trust.

Silently, as if he were the outsider in the family, he watched the interactions of the others. The loneliness that was an ingrained part of his life, except for one magic week last summer, flooded through him. It collided with the unexplained anger that roiled through him.

After the meal, the boys dashed outside to set up the sawhorses for targets, talking a mile a minute to their new friend. Drake followed more slowly, aware that Maya and the tutor hardly noticed when he left.

Outside, he breathed deeply and wondered what the hell was wrong with him these days. His life had always been planned and on track. Until his father's letter telling him about Maya and the baby.

Hearing voices, he watched as Maya walked to the car with Andy Martin. Their heads were close together as they discussed their students' progress for the day and made plans for next weekend. Without thinking, he strode closer.

Neither noticed him.

"Let's meet in town Wednesday," Andy proposed. "We can plan a course of study for the boys as well as Johnny."

"Good idea," Maya agreed with a lot more enthusiasm than she'd shown to any of his suggestions.

Drake strode forward. "Maybe you'd better select a wedding date while you're so busy planning the future."

The silence was instant and absolute between the other two. Drake heard the prowl of the wind through the cottonwoods, the muted shouts of the boys from the corral, the plangent warning of his own heartbeat, telling him he'd made a terrible mistake. Hell, he'd known that before the words were out of his mouth.

Before he could apologize, Andy stepped in front of Maya. "Maybe you'd better apologize to the lady," he said, "before you eat your teeth."

Drake laughed at the idea of a teacher besting him, a Navy SEAL. "You're going to make me eat my teeth?"

The other man's face flushed deep red. Drake changed his stance as the teacher assumed fighting mode.

He readied himself for a charge, welcoming the demands of a tussle as he calculated his enemy's next move. He needed action, anything but the impasse of trying to talk to the woman whose eyes expressed shock and horror as the fight progressed.

The teacher charged. With a deft move, Drake simply flipped the other man into the dust.

His satisfaction was short-lived as he realized he'd made another tactical error. Maya rushed forward, bending over Andy, her manner one of total sympathy.

"You brute!" She glared up at him.

"I didn't hurt him," he said, obliged to point out this fact when she didn't seem to notice it. "He led the charge."

She straightened and put her hands on her hips. "You provoked it."

She looked so kissable, he nearly grabbed her and laid one on her pursed, disapproving mouth. Heroically, he refrained, another thing she didn't seem to appreciate, in addition to the fact that he hadn't broken her stupid friend's neck.

"Well," he said, stalling for time while he tried to think, "he was touching you."

"Touching me?" she said in exasperation, again not catching on to the finer nuances of the situation. "Oh, for heaven's sake! Just…just get out of my sight."

Drake pulled his dignity around him, her words adding insult to injury as far as he was concerned. He sauntered into the house.

Inez was in the kitchen as he expected. After pouring a cup of coffee, he propped a hip on the stool at the end of the counter and watched her prepare fish for baking. He sighed heavily.

"Problems?" she asked.

Relieved that she always understood a man, he nodded. "Maya," he said, disheartened by his whole visit home. "Nothing is going according to plan."

He'd expected Maya to be grateful to him for returning to see about her, to take care of her so she wouldn't have to worry about the child's future. And this was the thanks he got—her fury.

"I just don't understand her at all," he muttered.

Inez brushed butter over the fish fillets. "Mothers-to-be are unpredictable."

"I'll say," he agreed glumly, still feeling the sting of Maya's calling him a brute.

"Hormones and all, you know. The body changes a lot."

He nodded. Recalling the slender perfection of last summer and comparing it to the rounded curves of the present, he felt the not-so-subtle changes in his own body as heat flowed to that dark place deep inside.

Hunger surged through him, the desire not at all slaked by the changes in Maya. In some ways, she was sexier than ever, the baby proof of the wild passion they had shared, reminding him of the ecstasy he'd tasted with her and no one else. Longing joined the hunger.

"One thing I know about my daughter," Inez continued after a few seconds of silence, "she would not give her body where her heart did not also go."

Misery coiled in his chest, making it tight and achy. "She seems real close to Andy Martin."

"Yes, Andy is her friend." Inez rolled the fillets in cracker crumbs sprinkled with grated cheese, then laid them in a baking dish. "It's wise for lovers to also be friends."

"He isn't her lover," Drake said furiously.

"Someone was."

Heat hit Drake's face as this inescapable truth quivered in the air between them. "I'm sorry," he said. "You're her mother. I shouldn't have…"

"A mother has to let go when her daughter becomes a woman. Still, it isn't easy to stand by silently while your children make mistakes." She gave him a wise but sad smile. "You will learn this with your daughter."

"Marissa. Maya is going to name her Marissa."

"A beautiful name," Inez said in approval.

A fist closed around his heart. He looked at his hand and recalled the baby thumping against his palm as if welcoming him home. His twin's face appeared, and Drake shook his head in confusion. The darkness returned, driving out the warmth and light of passion.

"My work," he said, trying to explain. "It's dangerous. There's no place for a wife and child where I go."

"Woman have gone with their men to dangerous places in all of history," Inez told him in a gently scolding voice. "Perhaps it's your courage that is lacking."

Her dark eyes, so like her daughter's, gazed at him with her usual kindness, yet he felt rebuked. "Someone has to be practical about the situation," he told her as need and hope fought with his conscience.

"I have often found Maya to be levelheaded."

"Maybe," he said doubtfully.

Obviously the mother didn't know her daughter at all. Needing movement, he headed for the corral. Maya was there, sitting on the top rail with no regard for her condition as usual. The familiar anger coursed through him, dislodging the other, confusing emotions.

"Be careful," was all he said, though, as he leaped over the fence to begin the roping lessons.

"I am," she said with no inflection, which told him she was still furious with him.

"You want to try your luck from a horse?" he asked the boys.

Joe and Teddy thought that sounded great. Johnny didn't say anything. Drake studied the teenager while he supervised the saddling of three trusty ponies. Johnny did exactly what Joe and Teddy did, but his fingers were awkward at the task. His mount had to take the bit on its own and practically put its own head in the halter.

"Be sure and loop the reins," Drake instructed the younger boys as he realized Johnny wasn't familiar with horses. He demonstrated and made them retie the leather, then showed them how to mount in one smooth leap.

Johnny followed his every order. Drake nodded approval when the teenager sat in the saddle, his shoulders tense, the reins in one hand the way Drake held his.

"As soon as you lasso the sawhorse, the pony will hold the rope tight. Jump down and keep your hand on the rope as you run to the target to release the rope. Remember, that would be a live, squirming animal on the end if this were real."

Aware of Maya's eyes on him, he gave the kids pointers and watched their skills improve rapidly. Maya was right—Johnny was a quick learner. Maybe the boy could get a sports scholarship to college. He'd talk to Maya about it. That should get her attention.

He broke off that line of reasoning. He wasn't thinking of the teenager's future just to get her approval. Although it did irk him that she refused to even glance his way while she kept an eye on her charges. As if she didn't trust him to watch after them properly.

Later that afternoon, when he went to his room to shower and change for dinner, he considered something that had occurred to him earlier. Maya no longer trusted him.

But he'd told her, in the note he'd left, that his life was too uncertain. He'd said things in passion that he hadn't meant to say, but then he'd explained why he had to leave and why he had to go alone…

Why?

The question ambushed him, bringing him to a stumbling halt, but only for a second. Then reason reasserted itself.

He'd explained it all, dammit. He didn't have a life like normal men. His future was one that couldn't be depended on.

Why?

Because of his missions. His return was never guaranteed. Because he'd vowed to never leave anyone behind to mourn his passing.

The way he'd been left behind when his twin died?

He had no answer for that. It just wasn't fair for a man in his position to have a wife and kids…except there was already a kid on the way. And Maya…

His breath caught at the thought of greeting her warm, sweet welcome with the fierce passion she stirred in him each time he came home, safe and sound, to her arms.

The new scar on his hip throbbed. The problem was that he might not always return. The one left behind suffered in a hell that never let up.

Except for those wild moments of incredible passion last summer.

He shook his head as pain ran over him. He shouldn't have taken her innocence, her trust, nor her love if he hadn't meant to return it.

Emotion he couldn't define plunged wildly through him. He had to go to her, to tell her…what?

A man with no future had no right to involve another in his life. That was what he had to make her see. If that meant she had to turn to another man—

The idea wasn't bearable. He and Maya had to come to terms. Their child's future depended on it. That's what he had to think about—Marissa's future.

Suddenly a whole world of possibilities opened before him.