Читать книгу The Wife He Chose - Susan Fox, Susan Fox P. - Страница 7

IT HAD taken months to recover from the terrible car crash that had killed her sister. And yet, fully recovering from either her sister’s death or her own injuries might never be possible.

Even now, as Colleen James drove down the Texas highway, she suffered the constant ache and weariness of a body that had been broken and traumatized, that was still far from healed after multiple surgeries and months of therapy.

The wreck was also responsible for the frequent headaches she got when she was overtired. She was still weak on her right side, and when she was tired or upset, she was even more unsteady on her feet. The feminine grace and ease of movement she’d taken for granted before the crash were now no more than a golden memory. Her awkwardness embarrassed her. The slim, black cane she hated to use was a necessity and might yet be for weeks or months more.

But the emotional injuries were the most formidable. She couldn’t seem to shake the depression that clung to her and made her days gray and trying. The terror of driving a car, or even riding as a passenger in one, had been debilitating. Only after days of determined practice with a rental car had she overcome her fear of driving enough to make the two-hour trip from San Antonio to the Chalmers Ranch.

Because it was imperative that she speak to Cade Chalmers. She’d sent a handful of letters to him, including flowers and condolences for the recent death of his brother, Craig. This past week, she’d phoned him three times, including the call this morning just before she’d left San Antonio. He hadn’t responded to any of her letters and he’d never returned her calls.

She’d decided a try at a face-to-face meeting with him was preferable to contacting him through a lawyer, which he might resent, but time was running out.

Her late sister’s three-year-old son and infant daughter—had now also lost their father. Craig Chalmers had drowned accidentally a month ago, and permanent custody of the children should soon be decided by a judge. The fact that their Uncle Cade currently had custody of them made it imperative that she speak to him.

Colleen was certain he’d given no thought to her regarding visitation, or that he’d even considered granting her access to her late sister’s children. That’s why she’d made the difficult trip, to both remind Cade Chalmers that she existed and to demonstrate to him the level of concern she felt about his apparent indifference to preserving the children’s tie to her.

She couldn’t successfully petition the courts for the privilege of raising them herself because of her limitations, but she wanted to have some part in their lives.

Cade’s late brother, Craig, had also been indifferent to her, and he’d blamed her for the fact that she’d enabled Sharon’s trial separation from him by allowing her and the children to live with her while they decided whether or not to divorce. His refusal to respond to her letters or calls after Sharon’s death was proof of that.

And Colleen had been the one who’d been driving when Sharon was killed. Thank God the children had been safely at home in her apartment with a sitter. There’d been no way to avoid or escape the semi-trailer truck that had all but run over their car in a busy San Antonio intersection. The setting sun had blinded the truck driver to their car until it was too late. His frantic effort to stop the turning vehicle had been hindered by the powerful momentum of the loaded trailer.

Though she remembered nothing of the wreck or that last day with Sharon, she’d later seen the newspaper reports of it that had been saved for her, and the traffic reports, along with the trucker’s and witness’s statements. The terror she had now was the result of the horrifying nightmares that resulted.

A fresh sheen of perspiration sent a chill over her skin and her palms were suddenly slick on the steering wheel. The two-lane highway in front of her seemed too narrow to safely navigate, and every time she saw a semi hurtling in her direction in the oncoming lane, she felt a jolt of fear. The nausea was overwhelming.

If the turnoff to the ranch hadn’t finally come into sight, she might have had to find another place to pull off the highway. What should have been a two-hour trip to the ranch had lengthened to more than four because of the occasional stops she’d had to make to calm herself. There’d been times that day when only her desire to see her niece and nephew again had made her go on.

Once she turned off onto the ranch road, she brought the car to a halt and tried to recover. A headache thumped at her brain, and it seemed to take forever before the nausea calmed. Her hands still trembled and she had a cautious drink of bottled water to soothe her dry mouth.

Finally settled enough to drive on, Colleen started down the ranch road. The car’s slower speed on the gravel and the absence of traffic helped put her at ease. Over the last long, slow rise of road, the main house came into view.

The Chalmers Ranch headquarters was impressive, even against the rugged backdrop of massive rangeland. The fact that the Chalmers measured their vast land acres by the tens of thousands was still an overwhelming notion to someone who’d been born and raised in the city.

The main house held its own among the barns and buildings and the network of corrals that spread out behind it. The house was a huge, single-story adobe built in a C that faced away from the road and boasted a red tile roof and a deep front veranda with adobe arches. The shade beneath the veranda roof promised a cool haven from the heat of a Texas afternoon.

By the time Colleen pulled her rented car to a halt near the end of the front walk, she was trembling with nerves. Fortunately, the place looked deserted, which gave her time to blot the perspiration from her face and shore up her courage.

She doubted she’d ever have enough courage to face Cade Chalmers calmly and confidently. Her sister had been intimidated by him, though she’d also confided to Colleen that he’d been gentle and very good to the children. He’d never shown Sharon much warmth or approval, which had made it difficult for Sharon to feel comfortable with him.

Colleen’s own memory was of a big, rugged man almost too gruff and terse to approach. In the few times she’d met him, he’d been distant and polite, but his manner suggested he judged people harshly.

He’d made it obvious that he found her uninteresting and inconsequential, perhaps no one he’d even notice if she hadn’t been the sister of his brother’s wife.

Colleen was hardly the beauty her sister had been and now, with her dark hair a scant two inches long if that, she felt even less attractive than before the crash. She’d lost so much weight that she looked like a plain, effeminate boy. Men had rarely found her attractive and now they virtually ignored her except to stare at her cane and observe her awkward manner with a mix of curiosity and veiled pity.

All of that underscored the notion that little Beau and baby Amy were the only family she’d ever have. And though she’d loved both of them fiercely from birth, the circumstances of her bleak future made it imperative to be allowed access to them and permitted the joy and happy responsibility of being their aunt. She was the only closely related member from the James family that the two children had. Surely Cade Chalmers would see the importance of that.

Cade Chalmers was on his way to the kitchen from his office in the east wing, when he heard the car pull up out front. He walked to the entry hall to see who it was, but he didn’t recognize the thin, frail woman who stepped out and started toward the door. The black cane got his immediate attention and memory kicked in.

Colleen James walked stiffly, her every movement giving as much an impression of self-consciousness as of wary care. She used the support of the cane as if she needed it. So much so that he wondered why she was not on crutches.

Colleen was one person he didn’t care to see or have anything to do with. She’d let herself get too involved in the petty marital dispute that had resulted in the death of her sister and finally his brother, leaving a three-year-old and an infant orphaned. If she’d refused to let herself get drawn into it all, things might have been quickly resolved. It was his belief that flighty, irresponsible Sharon might have settled down easier to her family responsibilities if Colleen hadn’t been around to rescue her whenever she couldn’t get her way.

Sharon had been the kind of mercenary female he’d been pushing away all his adult life. His brother had fallen for her then let himself be dragged around like a lovesick fool. Sharon had paid him back by making his life hell.

And that hell had been the litmus test of Craig’s level of addiction to his beautiful, manipulative wife. Then she’d had the bad luck to die.

Following the accident, Cade had had a distraught brother to deal with, a bewildered toddler and a helpless infant on his hands. Colleen had been in a coma for weeks so the arrangements for her sister’s funeral had also fallen to him.

Craig had learned later that Colleen wanted no part of him or the kids, so Cade had rapidly put her out of his mind. He’d had enough to handle with the kids and the ranch and his younger brother’s descent into a bottle. Craig hadn’t been able to face life sober without his flighty wife.

But both of them were gone now. Gone and oblivious to the pain and hardship they’d left behind for their kids.

Why Colleen James suddenly decided to show up here was no more than a minor mystery for him. One that would surely take little time to uncover and was sure to amount to nothing of real consequence. Maybe she needed money. If she did, she was out of luck. James women had gotten their last dollar from Chalmers men.

He opened the door just as Colleen stepped into the shade of the veranda. The surprise of his appearance seemed to startle her and she faltered. But then the surprise was his as he saw her up close.

Her skin was pale, nearly translucent, and there were feathery lines of strain around her mouth. Weariness made her eyelids droop slightly, but the look in the clear blue of her eyes was almost spiritless.

She had been willowy before, but now she was thin and about as insubstantial as a strip of gauze. A light breeze would topple her and he was inclined to go easy on her.

His gaze flicked to the car behind her and he revised his impression. She was well enough to drive herself from San Antonio, so she was probably stronger than she looked.

Her sister had tried everyone’s patience with a list of minor infirmities that ran the gamut from headaches to frazzled nerves. She’d had a way of avoiding the daily care of her kids that had seemed selfish to him. And though hiring nannies and sitters had been a solution the Chalmers’ could easily afford and had, Sharon’s penchant for firing them or running them off with demands to lavish her with as much care and attention as they gave the kids, made the search for replacements a constant bother.

But as he stared at the changes in Colleen James, he felt guilty for the harsh comparison. He knew her injuries had been severe and it was obvious she was nowhere near a full recovery. And the frailty he saw would be impossible to fake. Curious now, he studied her more intently.

Her sable hair was too damned short. Short enough that it tried to stick out all over her head, but she’d smoothed it down with some kind of hair goo. Her eyes, a near robin’s egg color, were large and fringed with dark lashes. Her nose was fine and slim and her lips were only slightly full, though they looked tender and vulnerable to him—too tender and vulnerable to have had much kissing.

If she ever put on weight, her small body would be more feminine. The image the thought put in his mind startled him and caused a strong stir of attraction in spite of the frail boyish look she had now.

His gruff, “Miz James,” was formal and terse.

Her quiet, “Mr. Chalmers,” was equally formal, but he’d seen the quiver of anxiety that showed in her eyes. “May I come in?”

The question acknowledged his rudeness in staring at her, rather than immediately inviting her in. But it was also an acknowledgment of his right to deny her access to his home. Sharon wouldn’t have asked. She’d have helped herself and walked in. Or gone teary if she even imagined resistance.

Cade stepped aside to let her pass, then walked through the entry hall at her slow pace. He ushered her into the living room and as she chose a place to sit at the end of the sofa, he called his housekeeper. Esmerelda appeared at once.

“¿Sí?”

“Could you bring in a tray?”

“Coffee?”

Cade glanced at Colleen.

“Just water would be fine, thank you.”

His brisk, “And coffee for me, Esmerelda,” sent the housekeeper back to the kitchen. Cade took a seat in the big armchair that faced the sofa and watched coolly as Colleen set her cane aside.

“Thank you for seeing me. I was sorry to hear about Craig. It was a shock.”

Cade felt a nettle of anger. There’d been no acknowledgment from her of his brother’s death until this moment. It was almost as if she’d decided she needed to express her condolences now only because she wanted something from him. And he could tell when females wanted something from him. He could always tell.

She went on and he felt his irritation rise. “I realize the flowers and the card were too late for the funeral, but I didn’t find out until I read it in the papers.”

He caught the faint chastisement for not informing her himself, but she wasn’t pitiful enough to let her off the hook for lying about flowers and condolences.

“There were no flowers or card, Miz James,” he said bluntly. “Why are you here?”

Colleen felt the sting of his rebuke, but she was shocked that the flowers and card had not been delivered.

“There must be some mistake. Whatever had happened these past months, Craig was my brother-inlaw. I couldn’t make it to the funeral, but I did send flowers and a card. I wouldn’t have let something that serious go by unacknowledged, even if it was belated.”

Her explanation did nothing but harden his rugged expression, and he’d never seemed more intimidating. His big body was wide-shouldered, narrow-hipped, and corded with heavy muscles that made him rock-solid and gave an impression of physical power that no one but a bodybuilder would dare to challenge.

But it was his face that held her attention, and always had. Rugged and no-nonsense, he had dark brows over deep-set eyes the color of aged bourbon. His cheekbones were high and prominent enough to suggest at least a trace of Native American ancestry. His nose was sharply bladed and gave the same impression of ancestry, but his mouth was a carved line that could go straight and hard with temper or—rarely—curve into a line that lit his face and made him seem years younger and surprisingly handsome.

Because Cade Chalmers was not handsome, not really. But he was impressive and his harsh, rugged looks were as charismatic as a movie star’s. It had always been a struggle not to stare at him, but he’d never caught her at it because she’d been virtually invisible to him. A lackluster, unremarkable female firmly in the shade of her beautiful, outgoing younger sister.

She stared at him now, though, almost more than she cared to, because he’d become impatient with her. And he was angry because he thought she’d lied to him.

“Why are you here?” The terse question closed the subject of the flowers and the card. He’d heard her explanation and judged her a liar. Distressed, she rallied to correct the judgment.

“I’m sure the florist kept a record of the order. It was a local shop. Josie’s Flowers, I think. And I used my Visa card.”

Cade’s dark brows lowered. He’d made up his mind and it was clear that he didn’t want to be confused by the facts. Colleen felt her dismay deepen. This was a terrible start.

“Is that why you didn’t answer my letters or return my calls,” she asked cautiously, “because I’d hurt your feelings?”

Because I’d hurt your feelings?

Colleen felt a jolt of horror. She’d not intended to put it that way! As if someone like her could ever be important enough to Cade Chalmers—or that anyone could—to hurt his feelings was preposterous.

Offend or insult him, yes; hurt his feelings, no. Men like Cade Chalmers were too macho to own up to feminine notions like hurt feelings. In this case, he’d probably been angered by what he’d consider an intentional snub. She should have worded it that way, but one of her problems after the crash was that she sometimes spoke imprecisely.

To her surprise, the hard slash of his stern mouth relaxed into the suggestion of a smile. His low-voiced, “What letters?” was not harsh at all then, as if his amusement over the hurt feelings remark had softened him.

Encouraged and distracted from correcting her remark, she answered. “Besides the flowers, I sent you three letters asking about the children and a condolence card, and I called here this week and left phone messages three times. One of those times was this morning.”

She hesitated, not certain it was possible that he couldn’t have seen or heard about the letters or the calls. Had he truly not received them? Or was he lying? If he was, then his earlier challenge to her honesty gave her grave concerns about his character, and she was suddenly worried about him raising Amy and Beau.

“Mr. Chalmers, I have tried to contact you,” she said earnestly. “I know I had the address right and I know I dialed the right number. You should know I have, and I think you probably do.”

Now the faint amusement on his face vanished and his features went harsh again at her quiet conclusion. She was shaking now and she felt tiny dots of perspiration break out on her skin. Nevertheless, she dared a softly spoken, “I can’t imagine why you’d…pretend.”

Unable to bear the sharp look he gave her then, she glanced anxiously away and felt painful heat in her cheeks. Why would he lie to her like this? Obviously he didn’t respect her enough or hold her in high enough regard to tell her the truth. The lack of personal integrity that implied increased her worry about the kind of guardian he would make.

Any realistic hope she’d had that he’d allow her to be a part of the children’s lives died. And probably had long before the moment she’d questioned his word. Now she’d have to find a lawyer and see what the courts might grant her. And that would probably be nothing.

Before either of them could say more, Esmerelda came in with a tray. Once she set it on the stout wooden coffee table between them, she handed Colleen a heavy crystal glass of ice water. Colleen took it with a faint smile and a word of thanks.

Her hands shook, and the weight of the crystal and the condensation on the outside of the glass made it difficult for her to hold. Esmerelda left the room and once Colleen had taken a tense sip, she leaned forward to put the glass back on the tray, prepared to pursue Cade for an explanation. Though she was wary of him and more than a little terrified, she had to think about little Beau and Amy and their best interests. Nothing was more important than that.

But to her horror, the glass slipped from her weakened grip and dropped to the floor with a sharp crack. Water flew everywhere and the sudden disaster shamed her. Awkwardly, she slid forward on the sofa to reach for the neatly folded linen napkin on the tray. She didn’t realize the napkin was anchored by the saucer of the coffee cup until she yanked on it and managed to spill the brim-full cup that rested on its corner.

Mortification and the frantic need to blot up the mess she’d made on the floor made her lose her balance on the edge of the sofa and go down painfully on her left knee in the spilled water and ice cubes. The glass hadn’t broken, but her knee grazed it and sent it spinning under the coffee table.

Cade was at her side almost before she could register the series of minor disasters. He lifted her and set her out of the way on the sofa. He took the napkin and calmly blotted water off the carpet with one hand while he got the glass with the other and swiftly replaced the spilled ice cubes before he set it back on the tray. At least the rolled edges of the tray had kept the coffee spill confined.

Colleen’s horrified, “I’m so sorry,” was as much as she was capable of. Even if she hadn’t already alienated Cade and spoiled her chances to be allowed contact with the children, the clumsy weakness she’d hoped to conceal from him had now been starkly demonstrated. Her obvious physical difficulties would make her a poor choice for unsupervised visits with a toddler and an infant, and Cade Chalmers would have no patience with the added inconvenience her involvement would cause him. If there’d ever truly been a realistic hope of her involvement.

Evidently, Esmerelda heard the commotion and came rushing back into the room.

“I’m so sorry for this,” Colleen repeated to her.

Esmerelda waved it away with a gracious smile, as if the embarrassing disaster was too minor to take note of. “Water on the carpet is not a problem.” She started forward to pick up the tray as Cade moved aside.

He addressed Esmerelda before she could. “Do you remember any letters Miz James might have sent?”

Esmerelda seemed to think the question was odd, but she nodded. “Sí. I have seen her name on some and also the fine flowers she sent. I put them on your desk like always and the flowers on this table. Do you not recall?”

Cade’s face was like weathered rock. “Thanks, Esmerelda. I’d appreciate a new tray when you get this one out of the way.”

Esmerelda bustled out and the room went utterly silent. Cade still stood staring at her and she was helpless to do anything but stare at him.

The proof of her honesty was Esmerelda’s confirmation about her letters and the flowers. He’d asked his housekeeper about them without seeking a moment alone with her to coach her to lie, so he’d obviously had nothing to hide. And yet, he’d never seen the letters or known who’d sent the flowers. How was that possible?

“My apologies, Miz James.” The faint growl in his low voice carried an edge that made him seem both contrite and sincere. “I have no explanation. You sent letters and I didn’t read them. And I would have read them.”

Colleen believed him instantly and felt her tension ease. A little of her hope came back. Perhaps their terrible start wasn’t so terrible after all.

“I wanted to know how Beau and Amy are. Craig never took my calls about them and he never replied to my letters to him because he maybe blamed me for it all. I thought you either felt the same way about me or you were continuing with his wishes.”

It hurt to admit to Cade that his brother had probably hated her and blamed her for everything. And pointing it out to him was also a risk. He might decide to shun her to fulfill his brother’s wishes. But she had to be straightforward with Cade. Even if instinct hadn’t warned her to do so, she would have felt compelled to tell the whole truth, foolish or not.

Cade sat down then, but his dark gaze never left hers. “Craig said you wanted nothing to do with the kids or him.”

The magnitude of Craig’s lie was another shock and Colleen felt her face pale. She could tell that it also upset Cade, whose rugged face was now utterly solemn. Worse than questioning Cade’s honesty would be to say something that would put his dead brother’s honesty into question when he was no longer alive to defend himself. And though she hadn’t meant to do that, she had and she was helpless to correct the blunder.

The silence stretched out. She couldn’t maintain eye contact with his intense scrutiny and glanced uneasily away, though his gaze had turned disturbingly gentle.

“I’ll get to the bottom of the trouble with the letters,” he said gruffly. “But you asked about the kids.”

His mention of the children brought her hopeful gaze back to his and she couldn’t help the swell of longing and emotion she felt. It had been six long months since she’d seen them.

“They’re fine. I’ve got a nanny for them, but it’s her day off and a neighbor of mine took them to a friend’s house to play.”

“Can I see them?” Her breathless question was eager with hope, but she was terrified he’d find some reason to refuse.

“Of course you can.” The voice that was big and gruff enough to roar out commands was now husky and surprisingly gentle.

Relief intensified the emotion she felt and she looked down at her shaking hands to get control of the tears that made her eyes feel scalding and full. When she could, she gripped her hands together to still their tremors then gathered her courage and looked over at him.

“Thank you, thank you so much. It means a lot.” She smiled at him, but the effort not to cry made her mouth tremble. Desperate to keep from going teary in front of him, she went on with the more difficult reason she’d come to the Chalmers Ranch.

“Obviously, you’ll soon petition the court for permanent custody or guardianship of Beau and Amy, if you haven’t already. I wanted to be sure you know that I hope to have a place in their lives.”

There it was. Plain-spoken and direct. She was putting her heart on the line and praying Cade Chalmers wouldn’t break it. It was one thing to let her see the kids today. It was quite another to go on allowing it and to grant her the security of detailing it in a legal agreement.

She could read nothing in the rugged expression that suddenly shuttered his reaction from her. His low voice went soft, but there was no mistaking the hint of warning.

“Will you challenge me for custody?”

Colleen eased forward on the sofa to lean earnestly toward him. “I want to be assured of a place in their lives. As you can see, I’m not sure a court would consider me physically capable of around-the-clock care for a toddler and an infant. I expect to recover enough to eventually do that, but I still don’t know how long that will take.”

She paused and saw that his expression had eased a bit. “If the children are safe and well cared for and happy here, I don’t want to disrupt that. But I do want access to them. I haven’t contacted a lawyer for advice about this, but I’m not sure I’d need to independently petition the court if you’ll put something in writing to give me legitimate legal standing. Or whatever the process might be.”

Now she saw the glint of wariness in his dark gaze and she rushed to assure him of her good will.

“I’m willing to allow the court to do an assessment of me and my home. I can cover the cost of that.”

His look turned sharp and considering. “You’re serious about this?”

Emotion rose high at the comment. “I love them very much, Mr. Chalmers. I can’t describe how much I’ve missed them. I came here to make sure you know that I want to have a part in their lives and their upbringing.”

“How much a part?” Now his wariness intensified, as if he thought her presence in the children’s lives would be intrusive.

“I’m their aunt. I’d like to fulfill the pleasure and responsibility of that relationship. I know I can’t demand equal time, but I hope to have regular involvement and maybe the freedom to at least express an opinion about their care and upbringing from time to time.”

“You want a lot. What else are you after?”

The question seemed adversarial to her and that was confusing. He’d appeared to soften toward her, but now it seemed that he hadn’t softened at all. Maybe he considered her request excessive. She rushed to assure him she didn’t intend to cause problems or be a source of trouble.

“You’re welcome to select someone of your choice to evaluate me, and if you allow me to frequently visit over whatever time is left before you go to court, you’ll be able to see for yourself whether you think I’m a good or bad influence on them. And it’s not my intention to be an adversary or to be in competition with you. I just want to have a good relationship with my family.”

“What about money?”

Colleen felt the blunt question impact her, but she didn’t understand it at all. Had she missed something? But then she realized what he meant and reached for her handbag.

“I could write you a check now as a deposit on the cost of the evaluation,” she said hastily as she took out her checkbook and opened it to take hold of the pen hooked on the check register. Pen poised to write, she glanced over at him. “How much do you think? Five hundred? A thousand?”

A look of astonishment crossed his harsh expression and that confused her even more. Why did he look so surprised? She’d already told him she could cover the cost of the evaluation. Did he not want a professional evaluation of her suitability to have contact with the children?

The awful feeling that she’d missed something important in their conversation both shamed and stunned her. Her worries over her sometimes imprecise word choices suddenly seemed minor in the face of having failed to follow the details of this conversation. What had she missed? She hadn’t been aware of this problem before and the idea distressed her.

The sound of a car pulling in behind her rental car out front distracted them both. Cade immediately got up and strode toward the entry hall. Colleen forgot her worry over the confusing turn of conversation. This might be Cade’s neighbor bringing the children home and she felt a thrill of excitement.

Revived, she left her handbag and checkbook on the sofa, got carefully to her feet, and ran nervous fingers over her hair to make certain it was still tamed. She got her cane and prepared to walk toward the entry hall the moment she heard the sound of the children.

She was so weary from the long drive and the tension of her difficult talk with Cade that she’d wondered how much longer she could last and still get back to the motel where she would rent a room for the night.

But knowing that the children were probably home and that she was about to see them and hold them and kiss them, excited her and gave her an almost giddy energy that more than revived her flagging strength. She didn’t have long to wait.

The front door barely had time to open before she heard Beau’s high young voice.

“Uncle Cade! Lori’s kids got puppies!”

Colleen made her way to the entry hall, her heart going wild with excitement. It’d been six months. How much bigger had Beau grown? Would he still remember her? And Amy! She’d been five months old back then, so now she was almost a year old. Was she walking? How many words could she speak?

Colleen stepped into the entry hall, unable to keep a wide smile off her face. Because she had eyes only for the children, she barely noticed the slim, elegant blonde who ushered Beau inside and carried little Amy on her shapely hip.

Beau had indeed grown and the sight of him made her eyes sting. But Amy looked more like a little girl than a baby now, and her blue sundress set off her dark coloring and blue eyes. Beau’s dark hair was mussed, his shirttail was out and he looked like he’d been playing in the dirt.

They were so beautiful and so perfect that she had to blink away happy tears to keep her eyes from blurring and missing a second of the sight of them.

Beau saw her first as she stood there, hoping and yearning, careful to stay at the edge of the commotion while she waited for some sign of recognition and welcome from them. The way she felt now, she wasn’t certain how long she could keep herself from grabbing them for hugs and kisses, but she could do nothing until she was sure she wouldn’t startle either of them. After all, she looked different, and the last thing she wanted to do was upset them and make them wary of her. And it had been so long!

She smiled at Beau who’d stopped in his tracks and was staring at her. Amy had caught sight of her, too, and her wide eyes gave her a good looking over. She knew Amy had been too young when she’d last seen her, but she expected that Beau would remember, though she worried that her injuries might have changed the way she looked too much for him to recognize her quickly.

To her utter dismay, Beau’s happy smile froze then fell away. The look on his face switched to a frightened frown and he went instantly to Cade and grabbed his leg for security. Cade reached down to ease the boy away enough to pick him up. Beau’s little arms latched around his neck and his small face paled.

Sensing that something was terribly wrong, Colleen tried a soft, “Hello, Beau. You remember your auntie, don’t you? Aunt Colleen?” She took a small careful step forward, but Beau cuddled closer to Cade’s neck and eyed her mistrustfully.

Cade looked as if he thought Beau’s reaction was strange but he gave the boy a small bounce to draw his attention. “Your auntie’s come a long way to see you and your sister, squirt.”

“I don’t wanna see her.”

His little voice seemed to echo in the open hall and Colleen was stricken with hurt. She tried not to show it, but her smile faded a little. The entry hall had gone quiet. Colleen was aware of nothing except Beau’s fearful little face and the way Cade studied him.

“Why not?” Cade made the question sound light, but Colleen understood how serious it was. And that her future access to the children rested on Beau’s answer.

Beau didn’t hesitate. His small face was solemn and certain.

“Because she killed my mommy and hurt me an’ Amy.”

Cade’s dark gaze streaked to hers and she felt the impact as she saw him close his mind to her. She couldn’t speak a word in her defense because she was strangling and couldn’t get a full breath. It was as if the air had suddenly been sucked from the room.

And then the room began to move. Dizziness made it difficult to stand with just the support of the cane, so she put out her free hand—her weaker right hand—to the wall to keep herself upright.

Cade said something then to the woman, but Colleen’s ears were suddenly filled with a roaring sound. He set Beau on his feet. The moment he did, Beau ran out of the foyer through the passage opposite the one she stood next to. The woman walked past her silently with little Amy, but Colleen was too dazed, too horrified to move.

She killed my mommy and hurt me an’ Amy.

The terrible words and the frightened look on Beau’s face shook her and made her doubt her sanity. Somehow she’d fallen into some strange nightmare. A strange, horrible nightmare.

She felt her knees begin to give way, but the gray haze that suddenly blanketed her vision and went black kept her from knowing whether she hit the cool hard tile of the entry hall or not.