forget. You just didn’t want to talk to me because there were two other times I tried to tell you and you brushed me off.”
He frowned. “When?”
“You were busy campaigning for the D.A. job, but I hung in there, wanting you to know you had a child. You were getting in your truck at the courthouse, and I stopped you and asked if you had a few minutes. A blonde walked up. You know those blondes you’re known for dating—a model type, perfect body. And once again you said you’d catch me later. Still, I didn’t give up. At Wyatt and Peyton’s at Christmas I asked again if we could talk. And you know what you did, Hardy?”
He clamped his jaw tight because he had no defense.
“You introduced me to your new girlfriend and you quickly forgot my request. I didn’t know how else I was supposed to tell you when you clearly didn’t want to talk to me. So don’t stand there and point the finger unless you are completely blameless.”
He wasn’t. He knew that, and he was struggling with the consequences of his actions. He remembered all those times she’d approached him and, God help him, he’d thought she had wanted to start their relationship over again. How could he be so blind? So self-centered?
He took a moment to gather his thoughts and tried to find some normalcy in this awful day. Tried to find a reason why he’d shut her out.
He said the first thing that came into his mind. “Why did you marry someone else?”
“My friend Dennis found me crying one day after class. He wanted to know what was wrong, and I told him what I hadn’t told anyone else. We studied together and went to the movies a couple of times. We were good friends, but Dennis wanted it to be more. His solution was we’d just get married and he’d raise the child as his. Out of fear of my mother’s wrath, I agreed.”
“What happened to the marriage?”
She twisted her fingers together. “When I was about seven months, Dennis asked if I loved him. I knew what he wanted to hear, but I couldn’t say the words. He said he’d hoped that I would grow to love him and it was clear that was never going to happen. We ended the marriage amicably. I took back my maiden name. He later married someone else and now has two children.”
“Your sister said he left you.”
“He did. I just never told them the reason why because then I’d have to tell them the truth about Erin.” She took a breath. “At the time I took full responsibility for what happened between us and planned to raise my child alone.”
“She wasn’t just yours.”
Angie buried her face in her hands, and he stilled himself against the emotions churning in him. She raised her head. “How would you have felt if I’d told you back then?”
He swung away and jammed both hands through his hair, irritated he couldn’t respond with an honest heart. His marriage hadn’t lasted. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out he wasn’t in love with Lisa. But still, that didn’t make what Angie had done right.
He swung around. “I would’ve taken care of my kid. She would have known that I was her father. Now I’m a stranger to her. And that’s your fault, Angie.”
“Yes. It’s my fault,” she said without offering one word in her defense. That irritated him even more.
His insides rumbled like thunder before a storm, and any minute Angie was going to feel the full impact of his wrath. To stop the rage building in him, he walked into his daughter’s room and stared at the girl in the bed. Her head tilted to the left and her brown hair clumped around her face. One side of her face was blue, and the white sterile strips on her forehead stood out vividly. She wore a pediatric pink gown that made her skin look even paler. His throat closed up.
My daughter.
Was she okay?
He’d injured his child.
Thoughts pounded at him like hail from the storm brewing in him. He had to get away and make sense of everything. He turned, and Angie stood there, watching him.
“We need to talk,” she said in a low voice.
“I don’t want to hear anything else,” he told her. “Nothing you can say is going to make this better. I have to get away from you. From myself.”
“Hardy, please. I need to know—”
He walked out the door and down the hall. He had no idea where he was going until he reached the entrance. The parking lot loomed in front of him, and he did a quick scan to locate his truck. After climbing inside, he started the engine and headed for somewhere. Or nowhere. He wasn’t quite sure, but any place was better than dealing with a woman who had deceived him.
Angie. Sweet, irresistible Angie had just shattered his heart. And there was no way to forgive that.
Ever.
* * *
ANGIE STARED OUT the window toward Horseshoe. It was dark, but she knew the direction.
She touched the windowpane and the coolness of the glass shot all the way to her heart. She was cold and empty. Somewhere deep inside she found the courage she’d been running on for years. It was like high octane keeping her going. But being strong had cost her more than she’d ever imagined.
She exhaled deeply, turned back to Erin and sat in the chair by the bed, her hand stroking Erin’s face.
After Dennis had left, she hadn’t known how to tell her mother that the marriage was over. Being a strong Catholic, her mother didn’t believe in divorce. So, with her stubborn pride intact, she’d had Erin alone, but after the birth she’d called Patsy and Peggy. She’d needed someone. They got her through it, and then she’d gone home to her parents.
There had been tons of questions from her mother, but her pit-bull sisters had fielded every one of them. And she’d let them protect her until she found the courage once again to stand on her own. It hadn’t been easy, and now she was about to lose it all.
She laid her head on the bed, tears rolling from her eyes. Everyone thought Dennis was Erin’s father, even her family. She’d told no one, not even Dennis, that Hardison Hollister was the father of her baby. That had been her secret.
Looking at her precious daughter, she had one thought. It was over. Her secret wasn’t a secret anymore. Hardy knew he was Erin’s father. She should feel some sort of relief, but the boulder on her chest felt that much heavier. Because it really wasn’t over. The worst was yet to come.
* * *
HARDY’S HEAD POUNDED, and he cursed under his breath. Where was he? It was dark, and he was sitting outside on a bench. A warm breeze touched his face and ruffled his hair. Reaching up to brush it out of his eyes, he realized he had a bottle in his hand. A whiskey bottle.
Just what he needed. He took a swig. Oh, yeah, Tennessee whiskey. It should solve all his problems, or maybe just drown them.
Through the pounding he kept hearing You’re Erin’s father.
He took another swallow, but the sound wouldn’t go away. Damn! He needed more booze.
