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Authors: Susan Mallery

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Then he'd denied even knowing her and she'd taken off. She'd never given the money a second thought. She'd left because staying was impossible.

That much she could handle, but Betty's claim that people had known about her circumstances astonished her. Part of her appreciated the gesture of donating while the rest of her wondered where they'd been when she'd been young and alone. A kind word back then would have meant the world to her.

It was too much, she thought.

“Thanks for the information,” she said.

“You're welcome.” Betty smiled. “This is such a
thrill. I can't wait to tell everyone I met you. Oh. We're having our reception in a few weeks. For the recipients. Can you come?”

“I, ah…”

“It's only for an hour or so. I know those women would appreciate the chance to thank you in person.”

“I didn't do anything,” Liz countered. “I'm not the one they should be thanking.”

“You're an inspiration. In fact, two of the women wrote about you for their essays. How you started with nothing and made yourself a success. Why don't I send you an invitation and you can think about it?”

“Um, sure.” Liz cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Liz left the college and walked to her car. But instead of driving home, she made her way back into town and parked outside of the Hendrix Construction office. Before she could change her mind, she turned off the engine and went into the building.

After giving her name to the receptionist, she paced the small waiting area. Seconds later, Ethan appeared, looking tall and strong and pleased to see her.

Inside her belly, something fluttered. Something hot and bright and dangerous. She ignored the sensation.

“Is this a good time?” she asked. “Can you talk?”

“Sure.”

He led the way to his office. “Everything all right?” he inquired as he closed the door behind her.

“No. Nothing's all right. I'm still mad at you, by the
way, so don't think everything is fine between us. I hate this town. I hate everyone knowing everything about me. Your mother is still angry at me, and I hate that part of me understands why. I blame you for most of this, in case you were wondering. But just when I think I know exactly where all the pieces fit, I get surprised.”

“A good surprise or a bad one?”

“Good.” She paced the length of his office. “There's a scholarship in my name.”

“At the community college.”

“You knew?” She spun to face him.

He leaned against his desk. “Sure. It's been around awhile.”

“You never thought to tell me?”

“Why would I?”

Right. “I don't know why, but I feel like it changes everything. But where were these caring people when I was growing up? Why didn't someone tell protective services that my mother was slapping me around? Why didn't someone notice that she supported herself with casual prostitution with her underaged daughter in the house? Probably because they didn't want to get involved. So they ignored the problem until it went away, and then they started a scholarship in my name. Does that make sense to you?”

She crossed to the window and turned back. Moving seemed required. She wasn't sure what would happen if she stood still. Scream maybe. Or fall apart.

As she passed Ethan, he grabbed her and pulled her close. At first she resisted, but then she collapsed into his arms, wanting to feel his strength surround her.

“It's okay,” he murmured.

“You think?”

“It will be.”

She sucked in a breath, letting her hands rest on his shoulders. “This town is making me crazy.”

“If it makes you feel any better, old Mrs. Egger cornered me yesterday. Slapped me with that big purse of hers and accused me of not respecting you. Not only did she give me
what for
because I'd, and this is a direct quote, ‘ruined the reputation of a perfectly respectable girl,' she pointed out that if I was going to let my sperm loose on society, I should keep track of them.” He shuddered. “I never want to hear a woman in her eighties talking about my sperm.”

Liz leaned her forehead against his shoulder and smiled. “I always liked Mrs. Egger.”

“I thought you'd say that.” He put his hand on her chin, pressing until she looked at him. “I know this is hard.”

“You really don't.”

“I'm trying to understand. I want you to like it here.”

Meaning he wanted her to stay. Which wasn't going to happen, but there was no reason to go over that material again, she thought, wanting to stay in his arms forever.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Wanting burned. Not just for how kissing him would make her feel, but
because when she was with him, nothing else could touch her. There was only the man and what they could do to each other.

“I thought I was only going to have to deal with Roy's kids,” she admitted. “You weren't supposed to be a part of this.”

“Too late to get rid of me now.”

“I don't want to,” she said.

“What do you want?”

An impossible question, she thought. One without an answer.

No. That wasn't true. She had plenty of answers, just none she wanted to share with him.

“I want us to be friends,” she told him. “I want to be able to trust you.”

“You can.”

“I don't think so.”

He kissed her. “Come on, Liz. You know me. I'm a good guy.”

“Are you saying there aren't any more surprises?”

Before he could answer, his phone buzzed.

“Sorry to bother you, Ethan, but it's that call from China.”

Liz stepped out of his arms. “When did you go international?”

“Not me. The windmills.” He frowned. “I need to take this call, but then I want to talk to you.”

“I'm fine. Go be successful. I have to get home.”

“Liz, I—”

She cut him off with the shake of her head. “International calls shouldn't be kept waiting. I'll see you later.”

She stepped out of his office and made her way to her car. Thoughts spun in her head. That there were multiple versions of the past. While she resented the fact that no one had bothered to step forward when she was growing up, she hadn't been as ignored and forgotten as she'd thought.

Which meant what? That Fool's Gold wasn't evil? She'd never thought of it that way—at least not in general.

The information about a scholarship in her name shouldn't have made a difference, yet she found herself feeling better about nearly everything and wasn't exactly sure why.

 

L
IZ WOKE EARLY THE NEXT
morning with a growing sense of the inevitable. After showering and dressing, she went downstairs and started coffee. The kids would sleep until the construction crew arrived, which gave her a half hour or so of perfect quiet.

She took her coffee out onto the front porch to enjoy the stillness of the morning. The air was cool, the sky clear. The sound of birds greeted her as she settled on the top step with her mug.

Maybe she needed more time before making her decision, she thought cautiously. Yes, there were things she really hated about this town, but there were other parts she liked. Melissa and Abby were desperate to
stay and after all they'd been through, shouldn't she consider their feelings? Tyler would enjoy living close to his dad and Liz knew it was what Ethan wanted, too. Ethan's mother was a problem, but better a rabid grandmother than one who wasn't interested at all. Given time, maybe she and Liz could come to terms.

Of course Liz could be completely fooling herself. There was the possibility she was blinded by a scholarship, a few kind words and the feel of Ethan's arms around her. Clarity would come with time, she told herself. She didn't have to tell anyone she was having second thoughts about leaving.

An unfamiliar sedan pulled up to the curb and an older man in a suit got out. He stared at her a moment, shrugged, then reached for something in his car.

“Morning,” he said as he approached, an envelope in his hand. “You're up early.”

She smiled. “It's the only time it's quiet.”

“I hear you.” He hesitated. “My workday starts in a couple hours. I was on my way to Starbucks. They've got me hooked on their lattes. Can't get going in the morning without one.”

She rose and moved to the gate. While the conversation was pleasant enough, she felt uneasy with the man's presence.

“Can I help you with something?”

The old man nodded slowly. “I would have come back later, but seeing as you're already up… Elizabeth Marie Sutton?”

How did he know her name?

She felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck.

He held out the envelope, then waited until she took it. “You've been served.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Y
OU SLIMY, WEASELLY
,
disgusting bastard,” Liz yelled the second Ethan stepped into his office building.

Ethan came to a stop and stared at her cautiously. Liz looked ferocious, which wasn't good, but he had a feeling he knew why.

She stood by the reception desk. It was still early enough that most of the staff hadn't arrived. Nevada's truck was in the parking lot, but his sister was nowhere to be seen. She normally arrived around six-thirty. Today hadn't been an exception. The only difference appeared to be that she'd let Liz in to wait for him.

“I should have known,” Liz continued, her green eyes flashing a level of rage powerful enough to melt steel. “You say one thing to my face and go behind my back. And here I stand. Surprised. Which makes me an idiot. Well, I'm done being stupid where you're concerned. Know this—I will never trust you again. Ever. Do you hear me? I hope you rot in hell. I hope there's a special place there just for you.”

She picked up the message pad from the reception desk and threw it at him. He sidestepped the missile
easily. When she reached for the computer flat screen, he grabbed her arm.

“Stop.”

“I won't.” She wrenched free and glared at him. “There's no excuse for what you did.”

The envelope was in her hand.

He wrestled with regret, then reminded himself that she hadn't given him a choice. “They weren't supposed to serve you until this afternoon. I was going to come tell you myself. This morning.”

“Oh, please. Let's not even pretend that's true. You've always been a coward and a liar. That hasn't changed.”

He grabbed her arm again and this time didn't let go. “I was going to tell you. I started to explain yesterday.”

If her gaze had had laser power, he would be a small stain on the rug right now.

“That's so much bullshit,” she snapped. “And here I am wearing sandals.”

She tried to pull free, but he didn't let her go. “Liz, calm down. We have to talk.”

She continued to tug. Afraid he would bruise her, he finally let her go. She staggered back a step.

“I was going to tell you,” he repeated.

He read the betrayal in her eyes, the hint of pain. “Liar,” she echoed, then waved the envelope. “If this is how you want to play it, then fine. Because I know some damn good lawyers.”

“I'd hoped we could work it out ourselves.”

“You're the one who went to court, Ethan.”

He had. He'd seen a family court judge and asked for an injunction. One that forbade Liz from leaving Fool's Gold with Tyler.

“I didn't know how else to stop you from taking Tyler away,” he explained.

“I have a right to a life,” she said, rubbing her arm. “That life is in San Francisco.”

“You can explain that to the judge next week.”

“I will. I also plan to tell her that I made two efforts to tell you about Tyler and that the only reason you don't already have a relationship with him is your late wife kept the information from you. So don't think you'll make me the bad guy in all this.”

“You were going to leave,” he reminded her, doing his best to hold his temper. It wouldn't help anyone if they both got mad. “You didn't give me a choice in the matter. You just said that I could have alternating weekends. As if that was enough.”

She stared at him. “Is that what this is about? You want more time? Then why didn't you come to me and say that? Why involve a judge?”

“Because I've already lost too much time as it is. I'm not losing any more. You could walk away tomorrow and I couldn't stop you. Now I can.”

“There were a lot of ways to guarantee my cooperation. This isn't one of them.”

“The person I care about here is Tyler.”

“And you think I don't?” she demanded. “You think I haven't spent the last eleven years lying awake at
night, worrying about him, doing what I think is best? Do you think it was easy to come back here five years ago to tell you about him? Do you think it was pleasant talking to Rayanne, listening to her judge me for having had your baby? Do you think I liked her calling me a whore?”

His gut clenched. He wanted to say that Rayanne wouldn't have done that, only he knew better. She would have said that and more. Liz would have represented everything she'd both hated and wanted. Beauty, brains, determination.

He wanted the past to be different but the truth is his relationship with Rayanne had been a mistake. He'd been bored, she'd been pursuing him and if she hadn't gotten pregnant—probably on purpose—he would have broken things off sooner rather than later.

But she had gotten pregnant and he'd accepted the responsibility. The way he would have done with Liz.

“I would have married you,” he said softly.

Words he'd expected to make things better. Instead the fury returned. “Yes, I know. Despite having denied even knowing me, let alone swearing you were in love with me, you would have been noble and married the slut you'd knocked up. Lucky me. I could have been your wife. What a thrill to spend my life wondering what horrible things you were saying about me. We could have had T-shirts made. ‘I didn't want to marry her. I don't even like her.' That would have been great.”

“Dammit, Liz, I said I was sorry. I was young and
stupid. Or does the absolution only go one way? I'm supposed to get over your halfhearted attempt to tell me about Tyler when you were first pregnant. That's fine, because hey, you tried. But my screw up is unforgivable? Want to test your theory in the general public? Or before the judge?”

She raised her hand, as if to hit him. He grabbed her wrist.

They were both breathing hard, glaring fiercely at each other. There was no softness in her expression. No affection, no passion. He'd paid a high price to keep her from leaving. He knew that.

“Tyler is my son,” he said, releasing her. “I've already lost most of his childhood. I'm not willing to lose any more. I protect what's mine.”

“Selectively,” she corrected, lowering her arm and walking to the door. “You'll protect what's yours selectively. Let's not forget that.”

She walked out. The door slammed behind her.

Ethan stood in the foyer, his fists clenching and unclenching. Helplessness washed through him, which only infuriated him more.

Liz made him crazy—more than any other woman he knew. She had the ability to make him see the worst in himself—and to want to fix it. She was maddening and difficult and, he had to admit, maybe she was right.

An office door opened and Nevada stepped out into the main room. His sister, dressed in jeans and a work shirt, as always, her boots worn and practical, stared at him.

“You're beyond stupid,” she said. “You know that, right?”

“I had to stop her from leaving.”

“I understand, but jeez, Ethan. There were a lot better ways to go about it. You should have at least warned her.”

“I was going to.”

“Famous last words.” She walked over to him. “I was younger than both you and Liz, but even I heard talk about her. People said ugly things about her mom and assumed they were true about her, too. She grew up with that, every single day.”

He didn't want to hear this, didn't want to know he might have gone too far. “She would have taken Tyler from me.”

“So you'd rather be right than win?” Nevada asked. “You're smarter than that. There's too much at stake here. You've just made Liz your enemy. Is that what you want?”

“I didn't know what else to do.”

“What happened to sitting down and talking?”

“Not something Liz and I can do.” The one evening they'd tried, they'd ended up making love in the kitchen. While he would enjoy repeating the experience, it didn't accomplish anything. “This solves the problem.”

“If you believe that, you're even more stupid than I thought. Do you get what Liz is going through? Being back in town can't be easy. You know how people speak
their minds. She's at the receiving end of a lot of criticism. Liz doesn't have anyone on her side. Okay— Montana likes her, but is one friend enough? You're her son's father. She should be able to trust you and she can't. No wonder she wants to leave. You're lucky she didn't kick you in the balls first. I would have.”

“I love you, too, sis,” he said sarcastically.

She gave him that pitying look that always made him uncomfortable. “You don't get it and because of that, you're going to lose.”

“What don't I get?”

“I know what Dad used to tell you. We all heard the lectures about what it meant to be a Hendrix. How we had to protect the family name. You got it more than all the rest of us put together. You're the oldest. You would have done anything for him. You gave up your life to take over the family business when he died.” She touched his arm.

“Dad was wrong, Ethan. There are more important things than the family name and reputation. There are the people we love. There's doing what your heart tells you is right.”

“I'm not in love with Liz.”

“No, but back then, you were supposed to be. Doing what's right isn't supposed to hurt someone you care about.”

 

L
IZ SPENT THE MORNING WEEDING
. The alternative was breaking every plate in the house, as a way to vent her
temper. While the theory was great, she wasn't sure it was especially smart, considering not only would she have to replace all the dishes, she would also be the one cleaning up the mess.

As she dug and hacked in the garden, she did her best to look at the situation from Ethan's point of view. An attempt that still made her want to punch him really hard.

What she would agree on—not that she was going to tell
him
anytime soon—was that if she expected him to let the past go, she would have to do the same. Yes, he'd been horrible to her nearly twelve years before, but she'd been worse. She'd made a halfhearted attempt to tell him about her pregnancy, then had disappeared for six years. Not exactly a mature decision.

But an injunction?

By eleven she was hot and sweaty and ready to let go of her fury, if only to get into the cool house. She waited until the construction crew left for lunch, then showered quickly and worked until about three. Then she gathered the ingredients for cookies, cranked up the CD player and danced along to the Black Eyed Peas until the kids got home.

“Mo-om!” Tyler said when he walked into the kitchen with Melissa and Abby. He sounded both horrified and confused. “What are you doing?”

“Making cookies. I've already made some oatmeal raisin. Now I'm moving on to peanut butter.”

Tyler wrinkled his nose. “I meant the other part.”

“The dancing?” she asked with a laugh and turned the player up even louder. “It's fun.”

She reached for Abby who took her hand and began to move her hips. Melissa surprised her by spinning around, then waving her arms in time with the music. Soon even Tyler joined in and they were all dancing around the kitchen.

Liz showed them how to form a conga line and they were weaving through the downstairs, bumping into the sofa and yelling the words to the song.

She broke free of the line and spun in a circle as the song ended. Abby and Tyler flopped onto the sofa, both giggling. But Melissa stood still, her face etched with sadness.

“What's wrong?” Liz asked.

“My mom used to dance with me,” the teen said. “My real mom. Not Bettina.” She gave a smile that faded quickly. “I don't remember very much about her.”

“You remember her in your heart,” Liz said. “That's what's important.”

“I guess.”

Abby stood and sighed. “I don't remember her at all.”

Liz moved to her and touched her cheek. “That's okay. I'm sure she understands and loves you very much.”

“From heaven?”

Liz nodded. Now wasn't the time to get involved in a “life after death” discussion.

“You promise?”

“Yes,” Liz told her. “I promise. No matter what, your mom loves you.”

She wanted to look at Tyler, to see if he got the message as well, but kept her attention on Abby.

“Dad never wrote us,” Melissa pointed out.

Liz didn't know what to say. Roy had promised he would. These were his daughters. Families could be complicated, she thought sadly.

“Does he still love us?” Abby asked.

“Yes.” Liz pulled her close, then held out her free arm to Melissa. “He does. Right now he's dealing with a lot.” What had he said? That he was a busy man? She didn't understand how he could ignore his children, but this wasn't about him. It was about making the girls feel better.

“Can we go see him?” Melissa asked, then cleared her throat. “I want to go see him.”

“I'll take you,” Liz said hesitantly. “But you have to be prepared. Your dad is in prison. It's not like the movies. It's a lot less clean and it's a little intimidating.” There was also a smell, but some details were better left blurry. They would find out soon enough. “I'm not saying that to change your mind, but to warn you what it's going to be like.”

“I want to see him,” Melissa repeated. “Abby, if you're scared, you don't have to come.”

“I want to see Dad, too,” she whispered.

Liz hugged them both. “Then we'll go.”

She glanced at Tyler, who was watching her wide-eyed. Theirs had always been a quiet life, she thought. With routines and predictability. Sure, she'd pulled him out of school once or twice a year for a fun day in the city, but that had been a good kind of surprise. Not every unexpected event fell into that category.

Reality came in all shapes and sizes. In the end, he had two parents who cared about him, even if they couldn't care about each other. She would die for her child. While Ethan might not be there yet, he was determined to be a part of Tyler's life, which was an excellent start.

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