the segment concluded, Shane angrily snapped off the television. She could hear the disgust in his voice. “They certainly went out of their way to make sure the family name and the hospital project were thoroughly en-twined with Mike Dodd’s death. It was bad enough when his death in the elevator fall several months ago was thought to be an industrial accident at a Fortune Construction work site, but now that it’s a murder case, they seem to be reveling in it. It’s getting more and more difficult these days to find any difference between legitimate news and tabloid journalism.”
Cynthia’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand the public debate over Lightfoot Plateau. There seems to be a faction strongly in favor of preservation and another faction equally adamant in their desire to see the land developed.” She turned to face Shane. “Isn’t the land privately owned? Why would there be a public debate over it?”
“Yes, it’s privately owned.” His response carried the same note of displeasure she’d detected when he’d commented on the news story.
“I don’t think I ever told you the story of the land. When my grandmother became pregnant by Ben Fortune, her family practically disowned her. Not only was she not married to Ben, he was still married to Kate Fortune and had no intention of getting a divorce. Natasha’s family said she had disgraced them. They would not allow the land to stay in the Lightfoot family so that she would inherit it, especially when it meant that Ben Fortune might end up owning it.
“They sold Lightfoot Plateau to the Rowan family who still owns it. The land is adjacent to the hospital site and also borders the reservation. The Rowans have allowed the cave entrance to fall into disrepair, but their son, Brad, has agreed to return the plateau to the Fortunes when he marries my sister, Isabelle. Contrary to Brad’s plans, I want to restore it and preserve the area as a place of historical significance for the various Native American tribes in this area.”
She saw the determination in his features, the same type of dedication and all-out involvement in a cause she’d seen years ago. Once he made a commitment to something, nothing could deter him. A rush of sorrow caught her un-prepared, tipping her delicately balanced emotions off center again. The sadness pushed at her reality. He had obviously never been committed to their relationship or to a shared future—certainly not the way she had been. She forced the upsetting thoughts from her mind and tried to shake off the disturbing feelings.
Cynthia glanced at Bobby. He was studying the pictures in a book he had taken from the shelf. If Shane had not been committed to their relationship, he would not have been committed to their son, either. Was she grasping at straws? Desperately searching for something to justify her decision to hide Bobby’s true identity from him? She didn’t think so, but that little shred of uncertainty still lingered at the back of her mind.
“Well—” Shane’s voice broke into her thoughts “—I need to get going. I have a finance committee meeting for the Children’s Hospital, then I need to do rounds at Pueblo General. I, uh, well, I have plans for this evening, so I won’t be home for dinner.”
“That’s quite all right.” Had her words come out too quickly? She attempted to explain. “I mean, I don’t want our staying here to interfere with your usual routine.”
“I guess I’ll see you later tonight.” Shane hurried out of the den and up the stairs to his bedroom.
It had been an odd interlude and it left him unnerved, although he wasn’t sure exactly why. The conversation had turned to a topic that did not involve dredging up moments from their past union. Yet a tingling undercurrent of heated desire continued to race through his body. His breathing quickened and his pulse jumped.
He didn’t have any plans for that evening. He wasn’t even sure why he said he had. The only thing he was certain of was his need to get out of that room. The walls had started to close in around him. He needed to go someplace where he could think without the very real distraction presented by Cynthia McCree’s presence.
The undeniably disconcerting affect she had on his senses left him as much bewildered as it did longing to renew their affair. It was an idea that had often crossed his mind and inflamed his desires, but it had been safely tucked away as something that could never be. He had never gotten her out of his system, but he thought he had reconciled himself to the fact that she was no longer part of his life. Then when he’d found her in his house in the middle of the night, everything had come rushing back at him. She had changed a great deal over the past six years. She was every bit as desirable, but now it was combined with a new maturity and confidence.
There was also her son and the unanswered questions about the little boy’s father. And there was that empty feeling inside him that had never gone away.
He dressed quickly for work, then hurried downstairs. He paused at the bottom of the staircase and glanced at Cynthia in the den. His heartbeat picked up again. Everything meshed together in one baffling tableau of what had been, what was now and what could be. It left him utterly bewildered.
He turned away. There was no need to have any further conversation with Cynthia before he left for work. He went through the kitchen and into the garage, then tried to collect his thoughts as he drove to the hospital. He needed to talk to Kate. He could not imagine why she’d offered the use of his house to Cynthia.
He had even gone so far as to compound a tenuous situation by insisting that she stay until she could get her business matters settled. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to do that, and it had probably been a really bad idea. But was it one he would live to regret?
Three
“What’s the matter, Mommy?” Bobby asked worriedly as he placed his fire truck on the patio table in front of her.
Cynthia opened her eyes. “It’s nothing, honey.” Bad enough that her decision to keep Bobby’s identity from Shane had already laid a heavy dose of guilt on her. Now she’d compounded that guilt by allowing her son to see her weakness and despair. “Mommy just has a bit of a headache, that’s all.”
“Why does your head ache? Did you hurt it?”
She couldn’t resist grinning as she wrapped her arms around her son and gave him a loving squeeze. No matter how bleak things seemed or how distraught she felt, all she had to do was hug Bobby and the world suddenly became a brighter place. “I guess I did. I hurt it by thinking too much about your grandpa’s belongings. Taking care of his things is going to take more time than I thought.”
She had spent the day working on her father’s estate. She had gathered his papers and business effects from his apartment, along with items of sentimental value. There was nothing else there that warranted the effort or expense of putting it into storage. She made arrangements to have the apartment cleaned out and the remaining items disposed of.
That left only the task of sorting out the tangled mess of her father’s estate. She had been shocked by the poverty-stricken appearance of his living conditions, yet the paperwork told a different story. What she’d thought would be a straightforward situation had turned into a time-consuming nightmare.
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