“Oh.” Marisa didn’t know quite what to say. She’d pictured a perfect, happy marriage for him, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with the situation now that she knew differently. Leaving would be the best course of action. But she couldn’t go without telling him about their son. It was now or never.
“After seeing you today, I felt I needed to explain about the past,” she plunged in.
He shook his head. “Marisa, I thought I made this clear, but evidently you didn’t understand. I’m not interested in anything you have to say. We had a brief time together. It was over years ago. Nothing you say can change a thing, and I don’t care about your excuses anymore. It just doesn’t matter.”
It just doesn’t matter. Their son didn’t matter. She swallowed hard, trying to accept that, but nobody, not even Colter, could ever make her believe the short time their son was alive inside her didn’t matter. Their son had changed her life, and her perception of life in general. Losing him had given her the strength to stand up to her mother. She was still struggling to find herself, to find her niche in the world, but that had been a start.
It just doesn’t matter, he’d said. Maybe to him it didn’t. He had a new life, a new child, and Marisa was the only one not able to accept the past and move on. Suddenly she could see that Colter was right; telling him wouldn’t change a thing except maybe to cause him more hurt. And what would that accomplish? Nothing.
Losing their son was her own private pain and she had to deal with it on her own. Mistakenly she’d believed that sharing the truth about their baby with Colter would ease her heartache. But she was the only one who could overcome that grief.
“Please leave and don’t come back.” Colter’s voice penetrated her thoughts. “There’s nothing left to say.”
They stared at each other like strangers, total strangers, and Marisa felt the numbness of that reality. She had to leave.
But before she could move her feet, Ellie burst through the back door, followed by the big dog.
“Daddy, you should see,” Ellie shouted, pushing back the hood of her coat. “Ice is everywhere. It’s like a big skating ring, and Sooner says it’s gonna snow, too.”
Momentarily diverted, Marisa patted the dog’s head. “Sooner?” she repeated.
“Yeah, he’s part German shepherd and we don’t know what else, and Daddy named him Sooner ’cause he’d sooner eat and sleep than do anything else.” Ellie gave the dog a big hug. “Daddy, Sooner says he’s not going back outside ’cause it’s too cold.”
“Ellie, that dog does not talk.”
“Does, too.” Ellie pouted. “You just can’t hear him.”
“Ellie.” There was a note of warning in Colter’s voice. “We’ve been through this before. Sooner does not talk.”
Marisa didn’t understand how Colter could be so harsh. Lots of kids had imaginary friends, especially the lonely ones like her. She’d talked to a doll when she was about Ellie’s age, and she’d outgrown it, as would Ellie. She could offer Colter some reassurance, but she knew it wouldn’t be welcomed.
Ellie wriggled onto Colter’s lap and put her arms around his neck. “Does your leg hurt, Daddy?”
“Naw,” Colter answered, kissing her cheek.
Clearly Colter had a good relationship with his daughter. She couldn’t help thinking that while she’d been lying in a New York clinic in labor with their child, he’d already married someone else, started a new life, a family. A pang of jealousy pierced her as she realized he’d gotten over her with remarkable ease.
She wondered about his marriage. Were he and Shannon separated? Divorced? She couldn’t imagine Shannon ever leaving Colter or their child. What had happened?
Ellie didn’t look much like Colter, she thought, but the green eyes were definitely his. They’d said her son’s eyes were blue. Most babies were born with blue eyes, though. Later, would he have had the Kincaid green eyes or— Stop it. Her son was dead.
It was time to let go of the memories. It was time….
Chapter Three
Marisa turned to leave and just then, the electricity went out, shrouding the house in darkness. Outside the light was fading and nightfall wasn’t far away. She should’ve left already.
“Oooh, Daddy, what’s happening?” Ellie curled closer against Colter.
“The storm’s probably taken down some power lines. The electricity’s been out before, remember?”
Ellie raised her head to look at him. “Yeah, and we lit candles. I’ll go get the candles.” She jumped off his lap and ran to the cabinet, opened drawers.
“Top drawer on the left, angelface,” Colter said, and Marisa noticed how gentle and reassuring he was.
He was a great father. She felt an ache deep inside her, in a private place kept only for her son, a son Colter would never know.
Tulley came into the room with a battery-operated radio, and Marisa switched her focus to him, unable to deal with all the emotions railing within her.
“The Dallas-Fort Worth area and Mesquite are under a weather advisory,” Tulley said. “Some places, like here, don’t have power, and people are being advised to stay off the roads because of the ice.”
Ellie plopped several candles on the table, then handed Colter a box of matches. He absently lit a couple, and Marisa could see he was absorbing Tulley’s news.
“I need to get back to Dallas,” she said.
Tulley shook his head. “Not tonight.”
Colter’s eyes darkened in the glow of the candlelight. “Are you sure?”
Tulley set the radio on the table and turned it on. Through the static they heard, “…Do not drive unless it’s an emergency. Road conditions are hazardous…” The warning faded away into silence.
“DADDY, aren’t you gonna light another candle?” Ellie piped up.
Colter stared into Marisa’s eyes, trying to accept that she was here for the duration, trying to accept that he had to deal with her presence and, above all, trying not to lose his temper.
Ellie tugged at his arm. “Daddy?”
“Uh.” His gaze swung to his daughter. “Okay.” He lit several more candles.
“I’ll take one to the den,” Ellie offered.
Colter grabbed her before she got too far. “Walk, don’t run, and be careful.”
“Okay.” Ellie slowly walked to the den with the candle held tightly in both hands, Sooner at her heels.
Colter stood, his eyes holding Marisa’s. “I don’t want your death on my conscience, so it seems I have no choice but to let you stay here.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling a need to apologize.
“I don’t think you are. You barge into my life, my home, without any regard for my feelings. I fail to understand how something that happened more than eight years ago could be so damn important. Say what you have to say and then get the hell out of my life.”
She gritted her teeth, the words stalled in her throat. She couldn’t tell him like this—not when he was so angry.
“Nothing to say, huh?” he asked, his words loaded with sarcasm.
“No.” She stiffened her backbone, tired of being the recipient of his insults. “And I will not apologize again. You don’t deserve it.”
His eyes narrowed to mere slits, but before he could vent his rage,