“I want you out of my house, out of my life. Now. Name your price and get out.”
Tears swam in her eyes and she valiantly blinked them away. He could have hurt her, but he didn’t, giving her the barest hint of hope. In desperation she clung to that. “Mr. Hart, please. I don’t want your money.”
She heard a beseeching tone in her voice, begging him to understand. She didn’t like the sound of it, but there it was. Cassie knew she would never do this for herself, but for Billy...
She’d never experienced this depth of emotion before, had never understood what drove people to do anything to defend their own, but now, now she did.
Her palms were still pressed against Zach. She felt the rapid rise and fall of his chest, saw a pulse ticking in his temple. Still, Cassie knew she would push further if she had to, as far as she had to, take any gamble, any risk.
After all, Billy was the only family she had left.
She fought away fear, trying desperately to believe Zach had heart. “All I’m asking for is time, for a chance.”
He didn’t respond.
“Doesn’t Billy deserve at least that much from you?”
“Does he?” Zach countered.
She was in as deep as it got and knew the only way out was straight ahead. He hadn’t thrown her out yet. Even though he still gripped her shoulders, he no longer squeezed tightly. His eyes were still narrowed, danger still throbbed in his temple, but she had his complete attention, if not his agreement.
Trying to drag in a deep breath and only succeeding in finding enough for a few miserly words, she said, “Yes, he deserves this. You see, he’s already lost his mother.
“My sister,” Cassie continued, swimming through her own loss, “had her share of problems. She wasn’t perfect—maybe she wasn’t even cut out for parenting, but that’s something we’ll never know. One thing is for sure, though, she loved Billy more anything. She was trying to turn her life around—” Cassie broke off as a sob lodged in her throat.
“Loved?” he asked into the unnatural quiet.
Cassie fought back tears and anguish, along with the lump in her throat. Lord, this wasn’t going anything like she’d planned. She’d wanted to keep her emotions in check. Yet Zach seemed able to plow past each of her defenses. “She was killed in a car accident.”
Zach swore. “I’m sorry.”
She dashed the back of one hand across her eyes. “I am, too.” She blinked rapidly. “Jeanie was a special person. I wish you could have known her.”
He didn’t respond.
“I had no idea what to expect when I arrived at your ranch. But I agonized over the decision to come here and believed it was the right thing to do.” In his arms, she became more and more aware of him as a man, at the way he looked at her with single-minded concentration.
His cotton shirt lay beneath her hand, warm and soft, a studied contrast to the man himself. He still held on to her, but not with rigid anger, rather with something that bothered her far more than his frustration.
“I wondered whether this would be a terrible shock to everyone,” she said, trying to regain her equilibrium, trying not to notice the things she had no choice but to notice. “I didn’t know what else to do. I know this is hard for you, but it is for me, too. I hadn’t planned to become a mother quite so suddenly.”
“You’ve apparently got all the right maternal instincts.”
His quiet words made her heart constrict. They were so unexpected, so welcome. She told herself that maybe it was a tactic to disarm her, yet even still, she had trouble just passing off his kindness, pretending he’d said nothing. “It must be the schoolteacher in me.”
“Schoolteacher?”
She figured he’d probably seize any opportunity to change the subject, but it didn’t matter. “I teach kids with learning disabilities, kids some people say are unteachable. I’ve seen them lost and alone, hurting and needing.”
Silence surrounded them, seeping with meaning. “And do you fight for them, too?”
She looked at him. “Every one of them. I made a promise to myself that no child of mine would have to struggle that way, and that includes my nephew.”
“You’ll see to it.”
“Yes.” Cassandra nodded. “I will. Can you blame me?”
Silence fell again, but this time it settled rather than roared. She wanted to tell him about Jeanie, about Billy. “My sister came for a visit, bringing along Billy, my nephew. I never knew she was pregnant, let alone that she’d given birth.”
“Go on.”
“Three days later, the coroner came to the door. Jeanie had gone to the store to buy more formula, and—” Cassie swallowed “—and she’d swerved to miss an oncoming car. She hit a tree.”
Pain traipsed across the memory, opening the unhealed wound yet again. “I went from being an aunt to being a mother. Billy started to cry. It was like he knew something was wrong...I’d never made a bottle, I’d changed his diaper just once, and I was working as a teacher.
“I had to find a substitute while I handled the...the funeral arrangements.” She tilted her chin back, hoping it would be more difficult for tears to fall that way.
“Those first few days were the hardest. He cried constantly. Cried and cried. My arms weren’t familiar. I didn’t know the best way to hold him, to feed him. I think...I think he wanted his mommy.” She paused for a couple of beats, then whispered, “Billy was left all alone, an innocent, against the world.”
“Except for you.”
She swallowed. “Except for me,” she agreed.
“I don’t know,” Zach said. “Billy’s got you on his side. I think he’s probably luckier than some kids.”
His hold on her loosened. Instead of pain, she experienced reassurance and confidence. Heart. It confused her, left her adrift. She needed to get away, escape.
She pushed against his chest, half-surprised when he released her.
“I’ll find my brother, Ms. Morrison, soon.”
“There’s one more thing....”
“More surprises?” He arched a brow.
“I know you’d want to see this. I’d almost forgotten I had it.” She reached into the back pocket of her jeans.
He took the paper, unfolding the crisp folds, then scowling as if he could will the condemning words to change. “Billy’s birth certificate,” he said.
She didn’t see the sense in responding.
“A mother can list any name she wants.”
She fought the impulse to defend again.
“I could burn this.”
“You could. But I trust you not to do that.”
He looked at her over the top of the paper. “Why?”
“You haven’t thrown me out.” She wrapped her hands around her shoulders. Cassie didn’t add that it would be easy enough to get another copy. “You didn’t harm me. And I’m taking a risk that you have the integrity to at least find out the truth.”
“You assume a lot.”
“Am I wrong?”
He exhaled. With obvious reluctance, he folded the document