away from Stone. “Truth to tell, he’s probably relieved to know he doesn’t have to take any responsibility for my screw-ups anymore. He’s got the perfect out—”
“You don’t believe that,” Cade insisted.
“Don’t I?” She struggled to push down a lifetime of insecurity, hide her raw, secret places from Stone. But the words spilled out, in spite of her efforts. “If the Captain loves me so much, why didn’t he tell me so? Right then and there, in front of you and Finn? Why didn’t he say the stuff in that letter didn’t change anything?”
“God, Dee, you should have seen your face! If you had, you’d know why he acted the way he did!”
“What would you have done, Cade? If you had found out something horrendous like this about Amy or Will?”
Cade scowled. “How would I know?”
“You’d do the same thing you did when Finn was trying to be noble and call off your wedding. You’d dig in your heels and wouldn’t leave until you’d pounded the fact that you loved them into their heads. You’d tell them to hell with what that letter said. You’re their father.”
“The Captain is your father. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, damn it.”
“That’s right,” Deirdre said, excruciatingly aware of Stone watching them, weighing them, unraveling far more than the words should have revealed. “That’s what you’ve been trying to tell me. The Captain just turned and walked away.”
Cade looked like she’d punched him in the gut. She could see him scramble for excuses. “Dee, Dad is an old man. A proud one. And, damn it, he’s in so much pain he can’t even walk up the stairs to go to the bathroom. He’s feeling weaker than he’s ever been in his life. And you hit him with the fact that even when he was at his strongest, his most invincible, it was all an illusion.”
“Guess even Superman had to deal with kryptonite.” She tried so hard to sound flippant. Instead she sounded cruel. And hated it. But she’d hate breaking down in tears far more, especially with Stone’s laser beam attention focused on her. Was he trying to judge what she’d say? she wondered. Or trying to figure out what she couldn’t put into words.
“Mom lied to Dad, Dee. Can you imagine how much that must hurt?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. I don’t have to imagine anything at all when it comes to being lied to by the person you trusted most in the whole world.” She glared at Cade, saw his face twist with pain. Direct hit. Score one for her side.
Cade’s voice roughened. “Mom carried another man’s child. And you’re practically rolling out a banner to announce Dad’s humiliation to the whole world?”
“That’s right! I’m supposed to be interviewed on the news at noon.”
“Damn it, you don’t think this is a joke, no matter what you’re saying. You know how painful this is, and how damaging. Not only do you throw the past in Dad’s face, but you outright reject him right there in front of Finn and me.”
“I rejected him?” Deirdre snorted, incredulous. “In case you failed to notice, I’m not the one who walked out of that room yesterday.”
“Hell, no. You didn’t have to. It was perfectly clear you had already made up your mind to track down this other guy before you set foot in the cabin.”
“Mr. McDaniel,” Stone cut in smoothly, “arguing about what happened yesterday isn’t going to get us anywhere. Deirdre’s made it clear she intends to pursue this matter. Perhaps we can agree the least painful way to settle things for all concerned is to get to the bottom of this as expediently as possible. With time—”
“My father is seventy-six and can’t even walk up stairs,” Cade snapped. “Just how much time do you think he has?”
Something like empathy sparked for a fleeting moment in Stone’s hooded eyes. “Whatever time is left, we’re wasting it right now.”
Cade paced across to the sink, leaned against the white porcelain, glaring intently out the window. Deirdre stared at his profile, catching sight of a glint of moisture at the corner of her brother’s eye. “What do you want from me?”
“Deirdre says you’re the only person Mrs. McDaniel spoke to about her relationship with the birth father. Is that true?”
“As far as I know. I hardly think she discussed it with the wives down at the officers’ club.”
“It’s not something I’d imagine you’d discuss with your son, either,” Stone observed. “So how did you come to know about Deirdre’s parentage?”
Cade’s features darkened. “There was an accident. The doctors thought Deirdre might need a kidney transplant. I overheard the doctor telling Mom that our father was not a compatible donor. It was biologically impossible that Deirdre was his child.”
“Your father wasn’t there to get the doctor’s report?” Stone didn’t manage to mask disapproval.
“No. He was gone.”
Deirdre figured Cade must have sensed some kind of censure in Stone. Cade’s temper sparked. “Dad was feeding Dee’s dog. Dad and Spot had this kind of love/hate relationship. But the old man knew the first thing out of Dee’s mouth when she regained consciousness would be asking after that damned dog. He wanted to show her he hadn’t forgotten.”
Deirdre winced.
Cade turned to Deirdre, gaze fiercely intense. “Don’t you call that love, Dee? He was worried sick, wanted to stay at the hospital, hear the first word when the doc reported in. But he knew what mattered most to you. He tried to—to put your mind at ease.”
She didn’t dare show the effect his words had had on her, or Cade would hammer her forever, hoping he could make her call this whole search off. She could handle Cade furious. But pleading, sorrowful, hurting…those were a more dangerous approach.
Deirdre tossed her head. “It’s more likely he just couldn’t stand to deviate from the schedule,” she said. “Feed dog at 0800 hours.”
Cade swore.
Stone cleared his throat and continued. “So you and your mother were alone in the waiting room, Mr. McDaniel. The doctor walks in and reveals something this explosive in front of you?”
“They both thought I was asleep. Even so, the doctor asked Mom to step out of the waiting room into the hall. But I could tell from the man’s voice something had gone horribly wrong. I…thought my sister was dead.”
Deirdre had to clench her hands into fists to keep from reaching out to Cade, touching him. The breach yawned between them, so painful it hurt to breathe. She could see Cade there, at the hospital, his body not yet filled out with a man’s muscles, his face still boyish, the scar on his chin still new. He must have been devastated, feeling responsible for anything that went wrong in the family, the way he always did. She could almost hear the litany of self-blame running through his head.
I should have foreseen she was going to fall, stopped her from being so reckless.
I should have hurled myself on the open toolbox
