Secret Baby, Second Chance

Chasing around town, getting in Laurie’s way had played hell with Vincente’s work schedule. His younger brother, Bryce, who ran Delaney Transportation with him, had sent him an increasingly frantic series of messages demanding to know why he had abandoned his office. Unable to explain that he was stalking Laurie, Vincente had feigned illness.

“You’re never ill.” Bryce managed to make the statement sound like an accusation.

“First time for everything.” Vincente had done his best to sound feeble.

“Steffi was hoping you’d come over for dinner tonight. Cameron and Laurie will be there.” Knowing how much Vincente enjoyed evenings spent around the table in his brother’s rambling, comfortable home, Bryce had clearly decided to try another approach. Since his recent and blissfully happy marriage, Bryce enjoyed gathering the family together while his wife, Steffi, regaled them with stories of the animal sanctuary she was establishing. They had come a long way from the days when Bryce had been the local stud, and Steffi was a famous Hollywood actress.

“Maybe next week when I’ve shaken off this flu.” Vincente had turned down the invitation with real regret.

His stalking tactics had proved frustratingly unsuccessful. Until today. Today, his patience, or thinly disguised impatience, had finally paid off. Laurie had left home at her usual time this morning, but instead of going into town and making her way to the police headquarters, she had headed south.

After an hour of following her at a discreet distance, Vincente had gained an inkling about her destination. Beth’s parents were dead, and she’d lost touch with most family members over the years. But he remembered that she spoke about friends of her parents who lived nearby in Casper whom she had visited now and then as a child. Although they weren’t relatives, she had called them her aunt and uncle and always regretted losing touch with them. Vincente had forgotten all about them back when he had been searching for her, but he supposed it was possible that, when she left Stillwater, she’d gone to a town she knew. He became increasingly convinced he was right. The police wouldn’t have known about the connection because the people he was thinking of weren’t Beth’s family.

Knowing Laurie would recognize his car, Vincente had rented a nondescript black sedan. Subterfuge really wasn’t his style, but he was determined to find Beth and ask her the questions that refused to go away. Even in his rental car, he had stayed well behind Laurie. He had a healthy respect for his sister-in-law’s powers of observation. The woman who had tracked down the Red Rose Killer was more than capable of recognizing that she was being followed.

Once he was convinced he knew where she was going, Vincente had overtaken her on the freeway. Pulling in at a gas station on the outskirts of Casper, he had waited, hoping his hunch was correct. When Laurie’s car came into view, he had released a long sigh of relief. If he’d been wrong, he wasn’t sure what his next move would have been. All he knew for sure was that giving up wasn’t an option.

Keeping his distance once more, he had followed Laurie to this quiet neighborhood in Casper. She had pulled up outside a house that was set back slightly from the street. Although he hadn’t been able to see too much, he had watched as the door was opened and Laurie went inside. That had been almost an hour ago, and he was going half-crazy with tension, waiting for the opportunity to do something. He had been told more than once, by both of his brothers, that patience was not his best quality.

Finally, he saw a movement over at the house. Tilting the old cowboy hat he’d worn as an additional disguise low over his brow, but peering out from under the brim, he slunk down in his seat. Laurie came out of the house alone. No one accompanied her to the door. There could be any number of reasons why the occupant of the house had chosen not to escort her out. From Vincente’s point of view, it was frustrating. Once again, he was denied the opportunity to get a glimpse of who lived there.

As Laurie made her way to her car, Vincente considered his options. Follow her back to Stillwater? Or stay here and find out if this really was Beth’s hiding place? He almost laughed aloud that he was even asking himself the question.

Once Laurie had driven away, he waited a few minutes to be sure she really had gone before leaving his car and going across to the house she had left. As he approached, he sized up the building. Nothing about it made him think of Beth. It had a slightly neglected air, as if the owner didn’t have the time, energy or money to spend on it. He contrasted that with the Stillwater house she had lived in. That had been as neat as wax. Being organized seemed to come effortlessly to Beth, spilling over into how she dressed, her surroundings and how she dealt with other people. Vincente wondered, not for the first time, if the reason she had struggled with their relationship was because she couldn’t neatly package up her feelings for him. When they were together there was no controlling what they felt. It had always been raw, primal...and incredible.

The thought spurred his feet up the front step. His heart was pounding so loud it almost drowned out the sound of his knock on the door. Prepared for disappointment, his nerves—already under intense pressure—were ratcheted up to crisis level when he heard a voice calling out.

“Did you forget something, Detective?” It wasn’t just any voice. It was Beth’s voice.

He wondered how she would react if she checked who it was through the peephole in the door. Her words indicated she thought Laurie had come back again, and he heard a key turn in the lock immediately after she spoke.

The door swung open and the smile on her lips faded. As she gazed at him in shock, Vincente took a moment to drink in her appearance. Her hair was shorter, just reaching her shoulders now instead of the waist-length mass in which he had loved to bury his hands. It was scraped back into an unflattering ponytail. She looked thinner. And tired, definitely tired. Almost to the point of exhaustion. But maybe the reason for that was sitting on her hip.

The baby wore pink sweatpants and a T-shirt with butterflies embroidered all over. Not quite a toddler, she was a perfect little girl. Her black hair clustered in a halo of curls around her head and she studied Vincente with eyes that were huge, dark and framed by thick, spiky lashes. The hint of olive to her skin and the full ruby lips were additional confirmation of his first suspicion. It was like looking in a mirror.

Vincente almost took a step back in shock as he gazed at his daughter.

Chapter 2

The shock of seeing Vincente on her doorstep robbed Beth of the power to do anything. Thought, speech, movement—those basic functions deserted her just when she needed them most. The only thing she seemed capable of doing with any degree of competence was stare at him. Just stare...and maybe, deep down inside, feel the old longing to throw herself into his arms. But those days were gone. She wasn’t that person anymore. She didn’t have the luxury of acting on impulse where he was concerned. Where anything was concerned.

“What’s her name?” Vincente threw her off balance with the question. Like I was well-balanced before he asked.

“Lia.” It was surreal. She had pictured seeing him again so many times, but it had never been like this. She had imagined she would be cool and collected. Not that he would take away the ability to think of anything except how wonderful it was to see him again.

“You gave our daughter an Italian name?”

“No, my mother’s name was Amelia.” Even as she said the words, Beth realized her mistake. Vincente had said “our daughter,” and she hadn’t denied it. She lifted an impatient shoulder at the thought. Why would she deny it? Lia was his daughter. He only had to look at her to know that.

“Can I hold her?” Beth was amazed at the humble note in Vincente’s voice. It was something she had never heard before, had never imagined he was capable of.

“She’s not great with strangers.” She issued the warning just as Lia decided to take matters into her own hands.

Holding her plump little arms up to Vincente, she wriggled her body away from her mother and toward him. Beth was so surprised at this phenomenon that she could only stare in astonishment as she handed Lia over. Vincente gazed into his daughter’s big brown eyes with an expression of wonderment. In that instant, something inside Beth’s chest lurched.

“Woof,” Lia commented solemnly.

“It’s her only real word,” Beth explained. “She copies the dog.”

“Is that good or bad?” Vincente couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from Lia’s face. “I don’t know anything about these things.”

“Well, she’s only eleven months, so she makes lots of sounds, but actual words aren’t really her thing.” For the second time that morning, she became conscious that she was keeping a visitor standing on the doorstep. But this wasn’t just any visitor. It was Vincente. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Fire blazed in the dark depths of his eyes. She could see him fighting to keep his anger under control for Lia’s sake. When he spoke, his jaw muscles were rigid. “I agree. Finding out I have an eleven-month-old daughter that you didn’t have the decency to tell me about is the worst idea I’ve ever heard of.”

Vincente’s moods had no gray areas, only extremes, but his anger had never scared Beth. Now, it terrified her. Not because she feared he would hurt her. This was Vincente. She knew he was incapable of doing her any physical harm. It wasn’t fear of him that had made her flee Stillwater. But his gaze was a knife in her ribs, digging deeper with each passing second. Where once there had been warmth, there was now only contempt.

A fierce longing to tell him the truth swept over her, and she thrust it aside. Annoyance bubbled up in its place, and she hugged that emotion to her. It was typical of Vincente to do it this way. To confront her, invade her space, then become judge and jury and deliver his verdict all within the space of a few minutes.

“I’ve moved on with my life.” She tried for a hard tone as she delivered the words. It wasn’t true, but she needed to convince Vincente it was.

“Fine.” The disdain left his eyes as they moved from Beth’s face to Lia’s. “Maybe we could continue this inside, since I’m not walking away now I know I have a daughter?”

Inviting him in would make a huge statement. But what would she gain by keeping him standing here? She knew Vincente’s stubbornness only too well. When he said he wasn’t going anywhere, he meant it. The thunderstorm was coming. Where it took place was irrelevant. She led Vincente into the family room, and he sat on one of the sofas. Lia commenced an exploration of his face, pulling at his neatly trimmed beard and trying to poke him in the eye. Her delighted squeals broke the ice, and Beth found herself smiling at Vincente’s efforts to hold on to the squirming little bundle. Conscious of the untidy room, her shirt with its missing button and the stain on the front where Lia had spilled milk that morning at breakfast, Beth made a hurried movement to pick up some of the abandoned toys that littered the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Even though it was the obvious question, it stopped her in her tracks. Since she had no idea where to begin with an answer, the series of increasingly anguished howls that rent the air provided a welcome reprieve.

“What the hell is that?” Vincente looked horrified.

“It’s my dog, Melon. He wants to come in.” Beth went through to the back of the house and opened the door.

When Melon reached the door of the family room, he paused, his ears flattening and his tail drooping. Beth could almost read the dog’s mind. Visitors were a rarity, but Melon was a sociable creature, and, on the whole, he liked them. This one, however, had the audacity to place his hands on Melon’s beloved baby. That couldn’t be tolerated.

Crouching low, Melon bared his teeth and growled at Vincente. Since aggression toward humans wasn’t in his nature, he mitigated the threat by wagging his tail.

“Sit!” Vincente’s voice was stern. Beth recalled that he always did have a way with animals.

Melon, clearly realizing the error of his ways, dashed over to him, and attempted to lick his hand. “I said ‘sit.’”

To Beth’s amazement, Melon sat.

“He doesn’t do that for me.” She couldn’t keep the aggrieved note out of her voice.

“You have to show him who’s boss.” Vincente snapped his fingers. Melon sidled forward, resting his head on Vincente’s knee and gazing up at him with adoring eyes.

Beth took a deep breath. “Look, I’m not trying to avoid this conversation, but I have a huge amount of work to do and the deadline is tomorrow. And I need to get Lia’s lunch ready...”

“You look tired.” Vincente’s eyes probed her face. Although it felt strange to have him here, a comment such as that was oddly comforting. It reminded her how well he knew her. He was the only person who really did. “More than tired. You look done in, Beth.”

“You have no idea.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Lia is teething, so she’s not sleeping too well right now. I’m trying to fit work around her schedule, but since she doesn’t really have a schedule—”

“Why don’t you get some rest while I look after her?” The blunt words cut across her floundering and the hard look in his eyes had softened slightly, but the tension level between them remained high.

This was classic Vincente. Like a seasoned boxer, he knew how to cause a distraction before delivering the knockout blow. “I thought you wanted to talk?”

There was a razor edge to his smile. “Okay. Go. Tell me why I wasn’t even worth a call or a message.”

Beth wanted to go to him. To take his face in her hands and tell him how much he meant to her, how much their time together had meant. But although he looked like Vincente, he was a stranger. A hard, cold man who had put up a barrier between them. And she knew that, no matter what she said, it would only push him further behind that barricade.

“There is nothing I can say to make this right.”

Even behind the anger, she could see Vincente’s pain. In the past, she’d have known how to take the hurt away. This time, she was the cause. The knowledge caused tiny shards of ice to pierce her heart.

“You don’t get off that lightly, Beth.” She could see his muscles bunched tight beneath his T-shirt as he held his fists clenched. “This isn’t like that time you drove my car into the wall and forgot to tell me. Or when I smashed that old china cat.”

That was it. Vincente had always known how to get to her. Despite her determination to stay calm, Beth felt anger crashing through her. How dare he bring up past hurts at a time like this?

“You mean the antique figurine my grandmother left me? The one you broke and didn’t tell me? The one I found in pieces in the trash?”

“Exactly.” There was triumph in his eyes. “This isn’t anything so trivial. This is about how we made another person and you didn’t even bother to call me.”

To her horror, Beth felt tears burn the back of her eyelids. When she tried to speak again, her lips trembled and her voice refused to work. Vincente started to speak again, but she held up a hand.

“No more.” The word was little more than a croak and she struggled to get her voice back under control. Pointing to Lia, she shook her head. “Not in front of her.” She took a deep breath. “And you’re right. I’m tired.”

His expression was grim, but she saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. “So do what I suggested. Get some rest.” The inflexible note was still there. “Because we are having this conversation, Beth. Whether you want it or not.”

Flustered, she tried to hit on a reason to refuse that didn’t involve going straight to ordering him out of her house. “She doesn’t settle easily with people she doesn’t know.” Since Lia was curled comfortably into the crook of his arm, that excuse wasn’t going to work. “You’re not used to children.”

“No, I’m not, but you’ll only be upstairs. You’re dead on your feet, Beth. I’m worried about you.” In place of the continuing tempest, the unexpectedly gentle note in his voice shook her equilibrium even further.

She remembered that knack he had of catching her off guard. He was right. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept for more than an hour or two at a stretch. If she didn’t get some rest soon, she would fall down. And what use would she be if she was exhausted? If she didn’t meet tomorrow’s deadline, she would lose her job. She was already behind with the rent...

The situation was ridiculous. How many times had she pictured meeting Vincente again? Not once had the imaginary conversations she had conducted in her head included him offering to babysit. And behind the concern, she knew—because who knew him better than she did?—that his anger that was still waiting to be unleashed.

“Let me do this, Beth.” A persuasive note in his voice, the one she hated because he used it to get her to do just about anything he wanted, made an appearance. “For old times’ sake.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.” She rolled her eyes.

He laughed. “Nor can I. The shock must have gone to my head.”

“Okay.” She had never thought of Vincente Delaney as an angel in disguise—the thought caused her to smile inwardly, since she had occasionally thought of him as a devil in disguise—but there had to be a first time for everything.

“All Lia’s toys are in the box over there. There is pasta in the fridge for her lunch and she likes banana after it. She’ll drink plain water from her own special cup. Oh, and her diapers and wipes are in this bag.”

Vincente’s calm deserted him slightly at those words. “I can come and get you if we have a diaper situation, right? That’s something I’m going to need to do under supervision the first time.” First time? The words had a confidence about them that unsettled her.

“Wake me if there’s a problem.”

She went to the door, turning back to look at him as he bent to talk to Lia. Although seeing Vincente here had tilted her world off course, the effect he was exerting over her pulse was not entirely due to the shock. He always did have the power to knock her sideways with his presence. Even though she had spent a lot of time over the last sixteen months dwelling on her memories of him, she had underestimated his magnetism.

What was she thinking? Every rational thought screamed at her to get him out of here. She had broken all her ties with Stillwater for a reason. A dangerous, life-threatening reason. Leaving had hurt more than she’d believed possible. Leaving Vincente? That had been its own kind of hell. She’d never known if they’d last forever. The longest they’d ever managed was a few months. Not because they didn’t care. We cared too much. That had always been their problem. Everything between them was too much. Too passionate. Too intense. Too raw. Too hungry. It was like they burned each other up whenever they were together. But Beth had never imagined being with anyone else. Had never imagined her life without Vincente in it, even if it was only in their own, unique, on-off, tempestuous way. Until the letter and the photographs. They had changed everything.

“Get some sleep, Beth.” Vincente’s dark eyes seemed to read her thoughts. “Then we’ll talk some more.”

Just this one time, she told herself sternly, and only because I’m so tired. Then we’ll talk some more.

Those words had an ominous ring to them.

* * *

Vincente’s mind wanted to dwell on the shock to his system. He was struggling to know what to feel, although anger was making a strong case for being his most powerful emotion. How could Beth keep something like this from him? If Lia was eleven months old, that meant Beth had to have been four months pregnant when she left Stillwater. Vincente thought back to the roller-coaster ride that was their relationship. Yes, four months before Beth left, they’d been right in the middle of one of the most intense “on” times of their on-off periods. Soon after, they’d split up following a fight over something or other. He couldn’t recall the reason, but he did remember Beth calling him arrogant and conceited before she slammed out the door.

Anger continued to bubble deep inside him, as hot and destructive as lava. It churned and boiled, desperate for release, and he knew there was a real danger of becoming too much for him to handle. He wanted to find a release. Slam his hand down on a table, kick a door, shout at the person responsible...

Four months and she didn’t tell me? She came to my apartment the night she left Stillwater and she didn’t mention that she was carrying my child? She left me sleeping and walked out of my life, prepared for me to never know about this person who shares my DNA?

He couldn’t reconcile those thoughts with the Beth he knew. They’d always been honest with each other. From the moment they got together that first time they’d known what they had was different. Unique. Mind-blowing. But Beth had always known the truth about Vincente. He couldn’t commit to a normal relationship. Hearts, flowers and promises of forever weren’t for him. It didn’t take much soul-searching to find the reasons why.

Even within his own family, Vincente had always felt like an outsider. The only unpredictable thing his rancher father ever did was fall in love with a beautiful Italian socialite. When Kane Delaney brought Giovanna Alberti home to Stillwater, she had batted her long eyelashes at him and declared that Wyoming was too boring to be her home. By the time Vincente was born, the marriage was in its death throes.

Even their son’s name had been a cause for disagreement. Giovanna had wanted a full-on Italian name, while Kane had held out for something more American. In the end, they had compromised. Instead of the Italian “Vicente” or the American “Vincent,” they had named him “Vincente.” It was a metaphor for his life. With a foot in each world, he belonged in neither.

The ink was barely dry on the divorce papers before Vincente’s mother had reverted to her maiden name and returned to Florence. Although he saw her occasionally, her aristocratic world might as well have been a million miles away from his Stillwater home.

Vincente knew Beth wasn’t like his mother. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that she would walk out on him and break his heart the way Giovanna had done to Kane. No, he was more afraid that he would be the one to hurt her. All he knew for sure was, however much he wanted Beth—and Vincente had never wanted anything in his life as much as he’d wanted Beth—there was something missing in his psyche. Call it the Alberti gene. We don’t do long-term. His mother was on her fifth marriage. He was not going to put Beth through the same sort of torture.

And Beth had understood. She had always accepted him for what he was. Their relationship hadn’t been one-sided. It hadn’t been about her trying to get a ring on her finger and him resisting. It had always just been them. Doing it their own way.

Of course, a baby would have changed things. How? He couldn’t answer that because the knowledge that Lia even existed had only just hit him. Had Beth run out on him because she thought he wouldn’t be able to cope with the commitment? A wave of shame washed over him at the thought. She must have known him better than that. Surely, she must. If she thought he would leave her to cope with their child on her own, then she hadn’t known him at all.

That brought another emotion to sit alongside the anger. As he looked down at Lia’s perfect features, he felt an overwhelming sadness.

He hadn’t wanted a child. If anyone had asked him why, he’d have said he’d be the world’s worst dad. He was selfish, impatient, untidy, and he didn’t like responsibility. Also, no sleep, no free time, no social life? No, thank you.

Now, he was in shock as his feelings on the subject had sharply reversed. Because how could he not want this beautiful little being? And how much of her life had he already missed? He hadn’t been there when she was born. Hadn’t heard that first cry or seen her first smile. She was crawling, pulling herself upright and making noises. Some of them almost sounded like words. She had a personality all her own...quite a strong one from what he’d seen so far. She looks like me. This little person has been growing up without me. The mingled feelings of joy and loss tugged at something deep within him.