style="font-size:15px;"> She nodded, still unable to believe that Renee, little more than a baby herself, had been a mother.
And Elizabeth was an aunt.
“Surely you aren’t considering adopting this child?” he said in dismay. “Why, it could be deformed, retarded! You told me yourself that Renee had taken drugs.”
His callous words scraped across her heart, opening wounds scarred by the past. Slowly she turned to face him, her face white, her eyes fierce. “Do you think that matters to me, Ted? I have a niece. A niece. That baby is all the family I have left in the world. I won’t just sign away whatever rights I may have to her and pretend she never existed.”
Immediately contrite, he rose and crossed to slip his arms around her waist. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” he murmured against her hair. “I wasn’t thinking. Of course, you feel a responsibility for the baby. That’s only natural. But you mustn’t do anything rash. It wouldn’t be wise. You’re in shock, I’m sure. A week away will help. It’ll give you the time to adjust to your loss, to put things in proper perspective.”
She buried her face in the curve of his neck, clinging to him, desperate for his comfort, his understanding. But as tight as she clung, she felt nothing from him. No warmth. No understanding. Certainly no comfort. Just the stiffness of his starched collar chafing against her skin, the rigidness of his body where it touched hers.
Disheartened, she shook her head. “I can’t go with you, Ted. Not now.”
He dropped his arms from around her so quickly, she stumbled, off balance.
“Fine.” He plucked his suit jacket from the back of the kitchen chair. “But if you think I’m going to stay here and hold your hand while you cry over a sister whom you haven’t seen or spoken to in years, then you’re mistaken. I’m going to Europe, with or without you.”
“Then you’ll want to take this with you.” Tears burning her eyes, Elizabeth twisted her engagement ring from her finger and held it out to him.
He looked at the ring then back at her. His eyes turned cold, unforgiving. Snatching the ring from her hand, he rammed it into his pocket and spun for the door.
Elizabeth released the breath she’d been holding when the door slammed behind him. Crossing to it, she spun the lock, then turned her back to the door and buried her face in her hands.
“Yeah,” Woodrow said wearily. “I’m still in Dallas.” Holding the cell phone to his ear, he moved to the window in his hotel room to look down at the traffic below. Almost seven o’clock and the streets were still jammed with cars. Wondering why any one would choose to live such a rat-race existence, he warned his brother, “But not for much longer.”
“Did you talk to her?”
Woodrow frowned and turned from the window. “Yeah. I talked to her. Didn’t get very far, though.”
“Is she going to fight us for custody of the baby?”
“Don’t know. She said it was too much to deal with all at once. She needed time to think.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Ace replied, his voice grim. “I’m sure it was a shock to learn her sister had died and left a newborn infant behind.”
Woodrow remembered the shocked look on the doctor’s face. But where was the grief? The hysterical female he’d expected to have to console? “Yeah,” he agreed vaguely. “It was a shock all right.”
“So when do you plan to talk with her again?”
“The ball’s in her court now. I left her my cell number.”
“You’re just going to sit around and wait for her to call you?”
“What the hell do you want me to do?” Woodrow snapped impatiently. “Put a gun to her head and demand that she sign away her rights to the kid so you and Maggie can play mommy and daddy?” He immediately regretted the cruel remark, knowing how much his brother and sister-in-law loved that kid. He dragged a hand over his head. “I didn’t mean that,” he said wearily. “I’m just in a bad mood. You know how much I hate big cities.”
“Yeah, I know, which is why I appreciate even more you doing this for us.”
Woodrow grunted. “Yeah. Like I had a choice.”
“Bring her here.”
Woodrow pressed the phone closer to his ear, sure that he’d misunderstood. “What?”
“Bring Star’s sister to the ranch. I’m sure she isn’t going to feel comfortable releasing custody of her niece to complete strangers. Bring her here and let her get to know us. Let her see what ordinary people we are.”
“Ordinary?” Woodrow repeated, then snorted a laugh. “Brother, there’s nothing ordinary about the Tanner family. We live from one scandal to the next, without time to catch our breaths before we’re hit with another one.”
Elizabeth nervously fingered the piece of paper she’d slipped into her robe pocket. Scrawled on the back was Woodrow Tanner’s cell phone number. He’d said for her to call him when she was ready to talk, though she was sure he’d meant when she had decided what she wanted to do about the custody issue. Unfortunately, in the hours since she’d learned of her sister’s death, she hadn’t reached a decision.
But she did have questions. Hundreds of them. How had Renee died? Was she alone when she passed away? How old was her baby? Did the baby look like Renee? Why hadn’t Woodrow’s father married Renee? Where had Renee lived? Where had she worked? Where was she buried? Had Renee never mentioned having a family? Was that why the Tanners had hired a private detective to track Elizabeth down?
She pulled the paper from her pocket and stared at the number. He’d have the answers, she told herself, and picked up the phone. She quickly punched in the number, then waited, telling herself that once she had answers, she’d have a clearer idea of what she should do about Renee’s baby.
“Yo.”
She jumped at the unexpected, gruff greeting. “Mr. Tanner?” she said uncertainly.
“Yeah.”
“Um…this is Dr. Elizabeth Montgomery.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve got one of those fancy phones with caller ID. Even tells me the time. It’s 1:33 a.m., in case you’re wondering.”
She winced, not having realized the hour. “I’m sorry. Really. I had no idea it was so late. I’ll call back in the morning.”
“No need. I wasn’t asleep.”
“Oh.” She pressed a hand against the top of her head and began to pace. “Well, I’ve been thinking, Mr. Tanner—”
“Woodrow.”
She stopped and frowned. “What?”
“Woodrow. That’s my name.”
“Oh.” She sighed and dropped her hand. “Well, I’ve been thinking…Woodrow,”
