else.
“Momma, is everything all right with you?” he asked slowly. “Is there some irregular test result or something I should know about?”
“With me? I’m fit as a fiddle.” But she’d gone completely pale.
“Oh, God. Then it is Dad?”
Caroline did something he hadn’t witnessed since the day of his high school graduation. She burst into tears. “No. And y-yes. Your father’s quite ill. B-but it’s not wh-wh-what you think.” Taking deep gulping breaths, she clutched the edge of the table in a visible effort to regain her composure. “I’m so sorry. Brandon isn’t your father.”
* * *
GARRETT PUNCHED UP the volume on the music in his truck, but it was pointless. Not even the loudest rock and roll could drown out his tumultuous thoughts. He pounded his fist on the steering wheel, rage rising in him like a dark tide. Tangible enough to drown him.
For the first day after his mother’s avalanche of revelations, he’d been too numb to feel anything. Once emotion rushed in, he’d realized he had to get away from the ranch. Away from her. She’d had thirty years to tell the truth but had never said a word—not to him and not to the man he’d always believed was his father. Now she’d made Garrett an unwilling accomplice in keeping her adulterous secret. “I swear it was only the one time,” she’d sobbed. “A lifetime ago. Confessing my sins to Brandon might ease my conscience, but why wound him like that?”
Her single indiscretion had been with a longtime family friend, recently hospitalized Will Harlow. Complications from Will’s diabetes had irreparably damaged his kidneys. Though his condition was currently stable, renal failure was inevitable. Without a kidney transplant, his prognosis was grim. Caroline insisted they couldn’t tell Brandon now. “If Will died with animosity between them, your father would never forgive himself!”
How had Brandon remained oblivious to the truth for all these years? He was an intuitive man. Certainly perceptive enough that he would notice the awful tension between his wife and son. So Garrett impulsively announced that he was spending Labor Day weekend with Hugh Connor.
“I don’t know exactly when I’ll be back,” Garrett had warned his dad. “With calving season behind us and time before we need to make winter preparations, can you spare me?”
Brandon had readily agreed that he and their hired hands could cover everything, adding that Garrett didn’t seem himself and maybe a week of R & R was just what the doctor ordered. Garrett’s sole motivation had been escape; he hadn’t consciously chosen Cielo Peak as his destination. Had he named the town because he knew it wouldn’t sound suspicious, his visiting an old friend?
Or was he lured by the heated memories of a glorious night spent with Arden Cade?
Their encounter had left such an impression it was haunting. She appeared in his dreams at random intervals. He’d developed a fondness for brunettes and had caught himself unintentionally comparing a date to her. Over the summer, while packing for an annual weekend with some cousins, he’d discovered Arden’s note stuck to the lining of his suitcase. I’ll never forget you. Was that sentiment invitation enough to look her up while he was in town?
She was a beautiful woman, and over six months had passed. Even if she still resided in Cielo Peak, there was likely a man in her life. Unless, like Garrett, she was between relationships? Maybe he could casually broach the subject with Hugh.
When Garrett had phoned his friend, it had been to ask for suggestions of a not-too-touristy rental cabin that wouldn’t already be booked for the holiday weekend. He hadn’t actually planned to stay with Hugh and Darcy, who were practically newlyweds. Learning of his mom’s infidelity had soured Garrett’s opinion of wedded bliss, and he doubted he’d be great company. But Hugh was stubborn. Besides, Garrett secretly questioned whether too much time alone with his thoughts was healthy. After all, he was having trouble surviving just the drive, battered by emotional debris from Caroline’s bombshell.
He fiddled with the radio dials again, trading his MP3 playlist for a radio station. A twangy singer with a guitar droned on about his misfortunes. You think you have problems, pal?
Garrett faced not only bitter disillusionment about the woman who raised him and unwilling participation in her long-term deception, but also a monumental medical decision.
Despite Caroline’s emphatic vows that her fling with Will was an isolated event, that they didn’t harbor any romantic feelings for each other, the man had never fallen in love with anyone else. He’d remained a bachelor with no children. Garrett was his best hope for a close match and voluntary organ donation, which would drastically shorten the wait.
“I know you need to think about this,” his mother had told him. “No one wants you to rush a decision.” But they both knew Will didn’t have forever.
If Garrett agreed, would he feel as if he were betraying his father? If he said no, was it the same as sentencing a man to die?
He was mired in anger and pain and confusion. Little wonder, then, that his mind kept turning to that night he’d shared with Arden, the perfect satisfaction he’d experienced. Right now, it was difficult to imagine he’d ever feel that purely happy again.
Chapter Three
Arden sighed wistfully at the seafood counter. “I miss shrimp.”
“Throw some in.” Justin indicated the grocery cart he was pushing for her. “How about this? I’ll pay if you’ll cook.” Even with the holiday sales price, it was a generous offer. Since ski season hadn’t started, he was scraping by on a reduced off-season salary working for a local ambulance service.
After a moment of letting herself be tempted, she shook her head. “Nah, I’ve read warnings that pregnant women should avoid shellfish. Skipping them completely might be overreacting, but I really want to do this right, you know?”
She rarely missed her mom, having been so young when Rebecca Cade died, but she sure could use a woman who’d experienced the wonder and worry of impending motherhood. Her only living aunt who’d had children was well over sixty, her memories of pregnancy and childbirth hazy and outdated. Arden hesitated to take advice from a woman who’d chain-smoked and enjoyed cocktail hour through all three trimesters. Cousin Rick never had seemed quite right in the head.
Arden changed the subject, eyeing her brother curiously. “You know, you’ve been hanging around an awful lot lately. Does this sudden fascination with helping me have anything to do with missing Elisabeth?” Though Justin’s relationships never lasted long, Arden thought she’d sensed genuine regret after his most recent breakup—and not only because he missed the job as hiking guide and first-aid administrator at the lodge Elisabeth’s family owned.
“What? No. I barely think about her. You’re the one who keeps bringing her up!”
I am? Arden wracked her brain, trying to recall the last time she’d mentioned Elisabeth Donnelly.
“I’m giving up my Sunday afternoon because you shouldn’t be lifting things,” he added virtuously. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been here to grab the pallet of bottled water?”
“Um, asked any one of the numerous stock boys for assistance?”
He shoved a hand through his dark brown hair.
