uneasiness raised goose bumps on her skin. She looked up. A face peered out at her from a tiny window under the eave above the third floor. Then the face was gone. But the uneasy feeling remained.
“Well, someone’s home,” Marni muttered. “And the family now knows I’m here.” She took a deep breath and mounted the steps.
An older woman answered the door with a dish towel in her free hand. “Yes?” she inquired, giving Marni a disdainful once-over.
“I’m Ma—Elise McCumber,” Marni said. “I’m here to see Chase Calloway.”
“And what may I say this is in regard to?” she asked, even more cool and reserved than before. Unless Marni missed her guess, this was the same woman she’d spoken with on the phone earlier.
“It’s personal,” Marni said meaningfully as she opened her coat and patted “Sam.”
The woman rocked back on her sensible shoes.
“Would you please tell Mr. Calloway I’m here. Elise McCumber.” Marni started to step into the foyer but the woman blocked her way.
“Mr. Calloway isn’t seeing—”
“I’ll take care of this, Hilda,” called a male voice from some distance behind the woman.
The moment Hilda moved out of the doorway, Marni stepped in from the cold, breathing a sigh of relief. She’d gotten her foot in the door, so to speak.
Marni wasn’t surprised to find the inside of the house as forbidding as the outside. The interior provided little warmth, from the dark hardwood floors and trim to the somber wallpaper and heavy dusky draperies. In the corner sat an artificial Christmas tree, flocked white and decorated with matching gold balls positioned perfectly around its uniform boughs. So different from the McCumber tree at the farm with its wild array of colorful ornaments, each homemade and placed on the tree by the McCumber kids.
At the sound of boots on the wooden floor, Marni turned to see a large older man in western clothing coming down the hall. He filled the hallway with his size alone—he had to be close to six foot six—but also with his imposing manner. Marni took a wild guess. Jabe Calloway.
“Yes?” he asked, assessing her with sharp, pale blue eyes. He seemed surprised by what he saw. “You’re inquiring about my son?”
Marni watched the housekeeper scurry toward the back of the house as if the place were in flames.
“I’m Elise McCumber,” she said, saying the name over and over in her head like a mantra. Or a curse. “And you’re…?”
“Jabe Calloway,” he said, plainly irritated. “What is it you want with my son?”
“I want to talk to him. What it’s about is between Chase and me.” A strange sound made Marni turn. She blinked in surprise as a younger man hobbled into view from down the same hallway Hilda had disappeared. Marni told herself this couldn’t be Chase Calloway.
“Chase,” his father said, also turning at the sound. “There’s no reason to concern yourself with this. Ms. McCumber was just leaving.”
“But this is my concern,” Chase said.
Under normal circumstances, Marni would have reacted poorly to the fact that Jabe Calloway was trying to shuffle her off without even a chance to talk to his son. But what was normal about any of this?
She stared at Chase, too surprised to speak. She’d just assumed he’d be handsome, knowing El. But this man set new standards for the word, from his broad shoulders and slim hips to his long denim-clad legs. He had a thick cap of wild dark hair that fell over his forehead above a pair of blue eyes that put his father’s to shame. The resemblance between the two men was remarkable. But while Chase had his father’s strong, masterful features, his mouth was wider, his lips more sensual, even turned down as they were now. He was the kind of man women dreamed of. This explained a lot.
Chase’s muscular shoulders were draped over a pair of crutches. He limped toward her, his jeans trimmed to allow for the cast on his broken left leg. Eyes downcast, he seemed intent on maneuvering the crutches across the slick floor. Or on avoiding looking at her. On closer inspection, Marni decided it was the latter. The coward.
A few feet from her, he stopped and looked up for the first time, his pale blue eyes welding her feet to the floor.
Marni didn’t move an eyelash as his gaze flicked over her. Would he recognize her for the impostor she was?
He frowned, those blue eyes intent on her face. She let out a silent oath. She knew this wouldn’t work; any man who’d been intimate with a woman would know whether or not she was his lover when he saw her. One look at this man, and Marni knew she’d never be able to fool him. He made her feel as if he could see beyond the dye job and the eye shadow right into her deceitful soul.
“I wondered when you’d show up here,” Chase said.
So much for that theory. “What did you expect?”
His gaze dropped to her swollen abdomen, then insolently moved back up to her face. His eyes iced over. “Not this.”
She shot him a look that she hoped would give him frostbite. Had he thought Elise wasn’t serious when she’d told him she was pregnant? Or maybe he thought by rejecting her she’d just go away.
“We need to talk about the baby,” Marni said, putting a protective hand over “Sam.”
Chase clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing. “The baby? I thought I told you on the phone, this wasn’t going to work. What is it you want?”
“For you to own up to what you’ve done and accept some of the responsibility,” Marni snapped.
Hushed voices drifted down from the second floor.
“For what I’ve done?” Chase demanded. He seemed to be fighting to keep his voice down. “What are you trying to pull here?”
The muffled voices silenced. Marni looked up to see a small crowd gathered at the top of the wide, circular staircase. All eyes stared down at her.
“This is not the place to discuss this,” Jabe interjected abruptly. “Let’s take it into the library.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Chase said, locking his gaze with hers. “I don’t know who you are or what you want. But I can assure you of one thing, that…baby…isn’t mine.”
After that stunning declaration, Chase turned on his crutches and hobbled off without a backward glance.
Marni started after him, planning to use one of his crutches to help refresh his memory, but Jabe put a firm hand on her arm.
“I’d like a word with you in private,” Jabe said. “Come this way.”
She had a word for him—and his son. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude, but you and I have nothing
