quietly, his face pale. “How did you know?”
“You were the only one I’d slept with in months, Dylan. It couldn’t’ve been anyone else but you.”
Dylan leaned back against the window; he felt off balance. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”
“It’s the truth....” Mackenzie said.
Dylan didn’t respond; he didn’t move. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he didn’t.
“I have a question for you.” Mackenzie turned her body toward him. “What made you think she was yours?”
“The bump...on her ear. It matches mine.”
“Oh...” Mackenzie said faintly. Dylan had always worn his hair long when they were kids—she never noticed that birthmark before.
“And then there was this.” Dylan retrieved the photo album, opened it and held it out for Mackenzie to take.
“Look familiar?” Dylan pointed to the picture of his aunt Gerri.
Mackenzie nodded, stared closely at the picture.
“Who needs a DNA test, right?” Dylan nodded toward the picture.
Mackenzie stared at the old black-and-white photograph. “This little girl...she’s the spitting image of Hope.” Mackenzie looked up. “Who is she?”
“That’s my aunt Gerri when she was nine.”
“I remember your aunt Gerri. We went to their horse farm a couple of times. She played the organ for us.”
Dylan’s jaw set. “Hope should be able to remember my aunt Gerri, too. Uncle Bill’s the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had. He deserved the chance to know my daughter.”
Dylan’s well-crafted barb hit its intended mark. And it hurt. Because Mackenzie knew that he was right. Silently, she carefully closed the photo album and handed it back to Dylan.
Dylan put the photo album on the coffee table and sunk down on the couch a cushion away from Mackenzie. He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his legs and cradled his head in his hands.
“So...” Dylan said quietly. “We both know she’s mine. The next question I’d like answered is...why did you know ten years ago and I’m only finding out now?”
Mackenzie leaned away from Dylan. “I found out I was pregnant really early on. I’m regular...like clockwork. So when I didn’t get my period after the wedding...I knew.”
“And you didn’t think it was important to share this information with me, because...?”
“I was going to tell you. It never occurred to me not to tell you.”
“But you didn’t...” Dylan lifted his head, looked at her. “Why not?”
“Jett told me that you were back with Christa...”
“Jett knew?”
“No. Not back then. And not until long after the two of you had already lost touch.”
Dylan nodded and Mackenzie continued her story.
“After I found out that your engagement was back on, I thought it was the best thing for both of us if I didn’t tell you...”
“No.” Dylan shook his head. “You should have told me. I had the right to know.”
“You forget, Dylan. I knew how much you loved Christa. That’s all you talked about the night Jett got married. And you and I both know what would’ve happened if she found out you’d gotten someone pregnant at the wedding! She would’ve broken off the engagement and you would have lost the love of your life because of me! I couldn’t see any reason to screw up your life, Dylan...not when I didn’t even know if I wanted to keep the baby.”
“I didn’t marry Christa,” Dylan challenged her. “But, you did keep the baby.”
“Yes. I did. I thought about adoption. I thought about...abortion. In the end, I decided to keep her.”
Dylan stabbed his leg with his finger. “That’s a decision we should have made together.”
“I admit that I may have called it wrong...”
“Called it wrong...?” he repeated incredulously.
“But I was young and I thought I was doing the right thing for all of us.” Mackenzie touched her finger to her chest. “I got Hope and you got to marry the woman you loved.”
“I didn’t even know what love was back then...” Dylan shook his head. “At least now I know why you were so anxious to get rid of me at the barn the other day. You didn’t want me to meet my own daughter.”
“Not like that I didn’t.” Mackenzie set the record straight. “I didn’t want that for Hope...and I didn’t want that for you.”
In a rough voice, Dylan asked, “Were you ever going to tell me, Mackenzie? Or were you just going to let me go the rest of my life not knowing?”
“No.” Mackenzie clasped her hands together. “I was going to tell you. I had decided to start looking for you this year...”
Dylan’s eyes were glassy with emotion. “You’re telling me...that if we hadn’t run into each other at Ian’s party, you were going to track me down? Why? Why now?”
Mackenzie took a deep breath in and when she let it out, her shoulders sagged.
“It’s what Hope wanted. When we were filling out her Make-A-Wish application, she wrote—I wish I could meet my dad.”
“Wait a minute...” What she had just said didn’t sink into his head right away. “Make-A-Wish? Isn’t that for sick kids?”
“Yes.” Mackenzie waited for Dylan to ask the next logical question.
“Are you trying to tell me that Hope is sick?”
“Hope has been battling leukemia for the last two years.” Mackenzie managed to say those words without tearing up.
As Dylan often did, he went silent. He stared at her for a long time with puzzled, narrowed eyes.
“Do you need a drink?” he finally asked. “I need a drink.”
Dylan stood up suddenly and walked toward the kitchen. He stopped when he realized that she was still sitting on the couch. “Are you coming?”
Wordlessly, Mackenzie stood up on shaky legs and followed Dylan into the kitchen.
“Can I interest you in a cold malt beverage?” Dylan pulled a bottle of beer from the side door.
“Sure. Why not?”
“Why not,
