from the coat closet, pausing long enough to stare at Merideth for a moment. When Merideth lifted a brow in reply, the woman turned away with a disapproving huff.
“The salad’s in the refrigerator,” she informed John Lee, “the potatoes in the oven and the steaks on the grill. I set the timer, but you’ll need to turn ’em in about five minutes. I’ve fed the—”
John Lee grabbed her elbow, cutting her off, and hustled her toward the door. “I sure appreciate you taking care of everything, Mrs. Baker. And don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours about a thing. I can handle it from here. See you in the morning.”
Before Mrs. Baker could catch her breath, he’d closed the door in her face. Then he turned and pressed his back against it as if locking out the devil himself. He looked at Merideth and forced a smile. “That was my housekeeper, Mrs. Baker.”
“Oh?” Merideth picked up a glass sculpture of a horse from a marble-topped table and held it to the light, studying the colors. “And here I was thinking she was your mistress.” She smiled sweetly at him as she replaced the sculpture, then turned and wandered into the den.
Nervously jiggling change in his pocket, he trailed her. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he began. “You remember my sister Sissy, don’t you?”
Merideth glanced back over her shoulder. “Well, of course, I remember Sissy.”
“Well, about a month ago, she—” But before he could explain further, a whimpering sound came from behind the kitchen door.
Merideth turned in the direction of the sound. “What was that?”
John Lee caught her arm and dragged her along behind him. “That’s Cassie,” he explained as he tugged Merideth through the kitchen door behind him.
“For pity’s sake, John Lee,” Merideth fussed, trying to wrench free. “You’re going to break my—” She stopped, sucking in a shocked breath when her gaze fell on the source of the whimpering noise. There was a playpen on the kitchen floor and inside it sat a baby, her face red, her mouth opening for a full-blown wail.
Unable to move, Merideth stared, her breath locked tight in her lungs.
“This is who I was going to tell you about,” John Lee explained. He moved to the playpen, scooped up the baby and swung her high in the air. She immediately stopped her wailing and filled her hands with his hair, laughing, her chubby legs chopping at the air.
“Merideth,” he said, settling the baby on his hip, “I’d like you to meet Cassie. Cassie, my girl,” he continued, rubbing his nose against hers, “this here is Merideth McCloud, the sex kitten who stars in that soap Mrs. Baker likes to watch in the afternoon.”
Merideth tore her gaze from the baby to stare at John Lee. “She’s yours?”
“Yes—no. Well, you see—” At that moment the timer went off, signaling that the steaks were ready to be turned, and the baby started howling again. John Lee thrust her toward Merideth. “Take her while I check the steaks.”
Her eyes riveted on the baby, Merideth locked her hands behind her waist and started backing toward the door. “N-no. I—I can’t.”
John Lee danced a moment, from Merideth to the playpen then back, trying to decide what to do. Finally he plopped the baby in the playpen and started out the back door. “Keep an eye on her,” he ordered, aiming a finger at Merideth’s nose. “I’ll be back before you can say scat.”
She stretched out a hand. “John Lee, wait! I—” The door slammed behind him.
The baby continued to wail, and Merideth closed her eyes and flattened her hands over her ears, trying to block out the sound—the same sound that haunted her dreams at night. In the dream, her baby, her son, cried out for her, his pitiful wails tugging at her heart. She would run, searching and searching, following the sound, but he always remained just out of sight, just out of her reach.
The crying continued, rising in intensity. As hard as she tried, Merideth couldn’t block out the sound. She forced open her eyes to find that the baby had knotted her fingers in the mesh sides of the playpen and was hauling herself to a wobbly stand. Fat, frustrated tears streaked down her face and dripped off her chin. Releasing her tentative hold on the mesh, the baby held out her arms to Merideth.
Emotion pushed at Merideth’s throat, choking her, while pain ripped through her chest like a knife, slashing at her heart.
She pressed her fists against her lips, fighting back the tears, until her knuckles turned as white as her face.
Oh, God, she begged silently, please help me. I can’t bear this. I can’t!
With a broken sob, she whirled and ran from the room.
John Lee stepped into the kitchen just as the front door slammed. Seconds later his Porsche’s powerful engine roared to life. Over it all he heard Cassie’s lusty squalls.
“Damn,” he muttered as he shoved the platter of steaks onto the counter. “Damn. Damn. Triple damn, hell!”
Merideth raced down the highway, the wind whipping her hair around to sting her face. Tears burned behind her eyes and clotted her throat, but she held them back. She wouldn’t cry. Not yet. With each shift of gears, she pushed the accelerator harder against the floor, trying to outrun the sound of the baby’s cries, the plea in the child’s watery eyes, the tiny arms stretched out to her.
But she couldn’t. They echoed in her mind and squeezed at her chest until she felt as if she were suffocating beneath them. Why had John Lee done this to her? she silently cried. She’d always known he was ornery, but she’d never known him to be cruel. Surely he must know how fresh her pain was, how difficult it would be for her to see another baby so soon after the loss of her own.
At look-out point, she spun the steering wheel to the left, careening onto the small paved space, then slammed on the brakes. Jerking on the emergency brake, she sank down in the seat, the pain in her chest deep and debilitating.
Her son. Her infant son.
She’d seen him only once, the glimpse as quick as the sweep of a butterfly’s wings, the memory hazy as if viewed through a winter morning’s fog. She’d never held him close to her heart, never cuddled him to her breast. Yet, she had yearned to. Oh, God, how she had yearned to.
The wad of emotion that filled her throat rose higher, choking her. With no one and nothing but the cactus and the rocks and the darkening sky to witness her grief, Merideth covered her face with her hands and let the tears fall.
Two
John Lee sat on the sofa in the McClouds’ living room with a sleeping Cassie cuddled against his chest. Mandy and Sam sat opposite him, the look in their eyes damning.
“I know it was the wrong thing to do,” he said regretfully. “Or at least I do now. But I swear I was only trying to help Merideth. I thought if she and Cassie met up, they might be good for each other. You know, both of them having suffered a loss, and all.”
He sighed in frustration when Sam and
