* * *
Down the road at Bobby and Bess’s house, Meredith Calhoun was halfheartedly watching a movie on Bess’s VCR as she tried to come to grips with the unexpected confrontation with Blake.
She felt shaky inside. The sight of Blake, with his jet black hair, green eyes and arrogant, mocking smile, had twisted her heart. Over the years she’d tried to force herself to go out on dates, see other men. But it hadn’t worked. She couldn’t bear for any man to do more than kiss her, and even the kisses were bitter and unpleasant after Blake’s. One part of her was afraid of Blake because of what he’d done to her, but another part remembered the first kiss in the stable, the sweet, slow hunger that had flared between them like summer lightning. And because of that kiss, no other man had ever been able to stir her.
Blake’s daughter had come as the biggest surprise. Meredith hadn’t known about the child. It seemed, from what Elissa said, that nobody had. Sarah Jane was a quirk of fate, and she wondered if Blake still loved Nina. If he did, Sarah Jane would be a comfort to him. But when he’d said that Nina was dead, it had been without a scrap of emotion in his face or his eyes. He didn’t seem to care one way or another. That was strange, because he’d been so adamant about marrying Nina, so certain that she loved him.
Meredith got up, oblivious to the television, and began to wander restlessly around Bess’s big living room. She stopped in front of the picture window. Beyond it, on a rise a few hundred yards away, was Blake’s house. She sighed, remembering the happy times she’d had there before the will had been read. Blake had always seemed to resent her, but that day in the stable had been full of soft magic. Because of it, she’d actually expected something more from him than anger. She’d dreamed afterward that he’d left Nina and discovered that he loved Meredith and couldn’t live without her. Dreams.
She laughed with a new cynicism. That would be the day, when Blake Donavan would feel anything but dislike for her. He hadn’t been openly antagonistic today, but he’d verged on it just before she left the store. Sarah liked her and it was going to be difficult to keep the child at bay without hurting her. Meredith had a feeling that Sarah Jane’s young life hadn’t been a happy one. She didn’t act like a contented child, and apparently she’d only been with Blake and Mrs. Jackson for a day or so. Meredith had wondered why, but hadn’t dared ask Blake.
Sarah reminded her of herself at that age, a poor little kid from the wrong side of the tracks, with no brothers or sisters and parents who worked themselves into early graves trying to make a living with the sweat of their brows. Bess had been her only friend, and Bess had it even worse than she did at home. The two of them had become close as children and remained close as adults. So when Bess had invited Meredith, with Bobby’s blessing, to come and stay for a few weeks, she’d welcomed the rest from work and routine.
She hadn’t consciously considered that Blake was going to be a very big part of her visit. She’d actually thought she could come to Jack’s Corner without having to see him at all. Which was silly. King and Elissa and Bess and Bobby all knew him, and Blake and King were best friends. She wondered if maybe she’d rationalized things because of Blake, because she’d wanted to see him again, to see if her fears had been real or just manifestations of unrequited love and sorrow. She wanted to see if looking at him could still make her knees go weak and her heart run away.
Well, now she knew. It could. And if she had any sense of self-preservation, she was going to have to keep some distance from him. She couldn’t risk letting Blake get close to her heart a second time. Once had been enough—more than enough. She’d just avoid him, she told herself, and everything would be all right.
But avoiding him turned out to be a forlorn hope, because Sarah Jane liked Meredith and contrived to get her father to call Elissa about that visit she’d mentioned.
Blake listened to the request with mixed feelings. Sarah Jane was beginning to settle down a little, although she was still belligerent and not an overly joyful addition to the household. Mrs. Jackson was coping well enough, but she’d vanish the minute Blake came home from work, leaving him to try and talk to his sullen young daughter. He knew that the situation needed a woman’s touch, but Mrs. Jackson wasn’t the woman. Meredith already liked Sarah, and Sarah was drawn to her. If he could get Meredith to befriend the child, it would make his life easier. But in another way, he was uncertain about trying to force himself and Sarah on Meredith. After having seen how frightened she still was of him, how bitter she was about the past, he might open old wounds and rub salt in them. He didn’t want to hurt Meredith, but Sarah Jane was driving him nuts, and he needed help.
“You have to call ‘lissa,” Sarah Jane said firmly, her mutinous mouth pouting up at him. “She promised I could play with her little girl. I want to see Mer’dith, too. She likes me.” She glared at him, her eyes so like his only in her youthful face. “You don’t like me.”
“I explained that to you,” he said with exaggerated patience as he perched on the corner of his desk. “We don’t know each other.”
“You don’t ever come home,” she said, sighing. “And Mrs. Jackson doesn’t like me, either.”
“She’s not used to children, Sarah, any more than I am.” A corner of his mouth twisted. “Look, sprout, I’ll try to spend more time with you. But you’ve got to understand that I’m a busy man. A lot of people depend on me.”
“Can’t you call ’lissa?” she persisted. “Please?” she added. “Please?”
He found himself picking up the telephone. Sarah had a knack for getting under his skin. He was beginning to get used to the sound of her voice, the running footsteps in the morning, the sound of cartoons and children’s programs coming from the living room. Maybe in time he and Sarah would get along better. They were still in the squaring off and glaring stages right now, and she was every bit as stubborn as he was.
He talked to Elissa, who was delighted to comply with Sarah’s request. She promised to set things up for the following morning because it was Saturday and Blake could bring Sarah down to Bess’s house. But first she wanted to check with Bess and make sure it was all right.
Blake and Sarah both waited for the phone to ring. Blake wondered how Meredith was going to feel about it, but apparently she didn’t mind, because Elissa had called back within five minutes and said that Bess would be expecting the child about ten o’clock. Not only that, Sarah was invited to spend the day.
“I can spend the day?” Sarah asked, brightening.
“We’ll see.” Blake was noncommittal. “Why don’t you find something to play with?”
Sarah shrugged. “I don’t have any toys. I had a teddy bear, but he got lost and Daddy Brad wouldn’t let me look for him before they brought me here.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t call him that again,” he said gruffly. “He isn’t your father. I am.”
Sarah’s eyes widened at his tone, and he felt uncomfortable for having said anything at all.
“Can I call you ‘Daddy’?” Sarah asked after a long minute.
Blake’s breath caught in his throat. He shifted. “I don’t care,” he said impassively. In fact, he did care. He cared like hell.
“Okay,” she said, and went off to the kitchen to see if Mrs. Jackson had any more cookies.
Blake frowned, thinking about what she’d said about toys. Surely a child of almost four still played with them. He’d have to ask Elissa. She’d know about toys and little girls.
The next morning, Sarah dressed herself in her new frilly dress and her shoes and went downstairs. Blake had to bite his lip to keep from howling. She had the dress on backward and unbuttoned. She had on frilly socks, but one was yellow and one was pink. Her hair was unruly, and the picture she made was of