She crossed to the coffeemaker, using the excuse of making coffee to give her time to think. When she was done, she turned back to Jackson, her hands braced against the counter and said, "Two years ago, you chose your daughter's happiness over your own. Can you blame me for making the same choice now for my son's sake?"

He yanked off his hat and threw it onto the antler rack inside the door, then shoved both hands through his hair. Ren felt her pulse speed up. He looked her in the eyes and said, "I'm here to stay, Ren. Our life together starts here and now... unless you send me away."

"You're not divorced yet. It won't look good in court if you-"

"I don't give a d.a.m.n anymore. I just want to be with you... before we're both too old and brittle to make love to one another," he added with the hint of a smile.

Ren had rarely seen Jackson smile. She was amazed that he could find levity in the moment. She was still too frightened of what Sam might do. And afraid, now that the moment had come, that the pa.s.sion which had flared between them so many years ago might have flickered out.

"Jackson, I-"

He must have seen what she was feeling, because his smile broadened until he was grinning. "Do you think it isn't still there? Foolish, foolish woman. All I have to do is look at you to want you.

"It's been that way ever since you were seventeen, and I saw you floating in that pond wearing nothing but a white bra and panties, your eyes closed, that serene smile on your face... and you asked me to come and kiss you, thinking I was Jesse. My feelings haven't changed, Ren. I want you every bit as much now as I did that long-ago day."

She flushed, remembering how husky his voice had sounded that lazy summer afternoon, how she'd heard the rustle of denim and the clink of his belt, before he'd moved silently into the water. How he'd kept her eyes covered with his hand, asking her to live out the fantasy, not wanting her to discover his deception.

Somehow she'd known it wasn't Jesse making love to her in the pond. But she hadn't wanted the dream to end. What had surprised and later shamed her was her behavior after she'd learned the truth. She'd spent the rest of the afternoon talking to, and making love with, Jackson Blackthorne.

It was appalling to realize that she'd found the other half of her soul-and he was not the man who'd fathered the child she carried inside her. She had never made a more difficult decision in her life than whether to marry Jackson Blackthorne or Jesse Creed.

As heir to the Blackthorne name and fortune, Jackson had believed the world was his for the taking. And he'd intended to have her for his wife.

"Marry me, Ren," he'd urged.

"I'm carrying Jesse's child," she'd replied, as though that were answer enough.

"I love you, Ren. I need you."

I need you. The words had seemed to startle him as much as they did her. She'd been so tempted to say yes.

"I'm sorry, Jackson," she'd blurted before she could change her mind. "I can't."

"I promise I'll take care of the baby. He'll never want for anything."

"Except his father's love," she'd said in a whisper. She'd reached up to touch his face, to offer comfort, and he'd grasped her hand and held it against his cheek.

She watched the desperation grow in his eyes as he whispered, "Please, Ren."

She shuddered now when she thought of how much he must have wanted her, to swallow his pride and beg.

"Don't, Jackson," she'd said in a choked voice. "Nothing you say can change the fact that this baby is Jesse's."

"Then get rid of it!"

She'd wrenched free and stared at him, seeing the effort it took for him to control the dark, jealous rage that had prompted his outburst. In that instant, she'd wished the baby had never been conceived. And in the next instant regretted that wish. She'd placed her hand over the tiny life growing inside her, looked into his storm-ridden gray eyes, and said, "You know I can't do that."

"I'm sorry," he'd said. "Just please don't leave me, Ren. I can't live without you. I promise-"

She'd interrupted him in a fierce voice, determined not to let him sway her from the decision she'd struggled so hard to make. "You're a Blackthorne. This child is a Creed. What if your feelings change after the baby is born? I can't marry you, Jackson. I can't take that chance!"

The next day she'd married Jesse Creed. And that same night realized she'd made the wrong choice.

Blackjack watched Ren covertly. Even at fifty-three, she was still gracefully slender, with warm, gray-green eyes and auburn hair that was gray at the temples and smelled like lavender. She wasn't acting as delighted by the turn of events as he'd hoped. She kept throwing Sam up as a roadblock.

He was scared. Was she really worried about her son's reaction to his presence? Or had her feelings toward him changed? Was she wishing he'd stayed with Eve?

He no longer believed in happily ever after. He'd lived too many years in a make-do marriage to be able to imagine any other kind of relationship. It was hard to remember how promising his life with Eve had been in the beginning, even though he'd been urged into marriage by his father, who'd been friends with Eve's father and wanted their two dynasties joined.

He hadn't put up much of a fight. He'd been devastated when Ren married Jesse Creed the day after she'd refused his proposal. He was only twenty, with a whole life ahead of him to be lived without the only woman he was certain he would ever love. Nothing had mattered.

When he'd married Evelyn DeWitt three months later, Ren had still owned his heart. Even so, in the first few weeks of his marriage, he'd begun to admire and appreciate his wife-who'd brought fifty thousand acres of good DeWitt gra.s.sland with her as a dowry.

It was hard to remember what Eve had been like all those years ago. So happy. So carefree. Always smiling. Always laughing. When he was with her, he'd been able to ignore the ache in his chest that he felt whenever he thought of Ren. He remembered being surprised that his marriage was turning out so well.

Maybe if Ren hadn't miscarried, everything would have been different. But a horse had stumbled and fallen.

And all their lives had changed forever.

He'd been at the Bitter Creek Regional Hospital with Eve, who was seeing a doctor because she suspected she was pregnant, when he'd overheard two nurses talking and realized Ren had been admitted several hours earlier.

"She was rounding up cattle and her horse stumbled and she was thrown," one nurse said to the other. "The cattle spooked and she got trampled. Her leg got broken pretty bad. And she lost her baby."

"How awful," the other nurse said. "How far along was she?"

Blackjack didn't wait to hear the answer, just headed for the reception desk and said, "Where did you put Mrs. Creed?"

"She isn't receiving visitors," the receptionist said.

"I asked you a question," he said. "Answer it."

"Mr. Blackthorne's family owns the hospital," a nurse told the receptionist, then turned to him and said, "She's on the second floor, Mr. Blackthorne. Room 203."

Blackjack couldn't wait for the elevator. He took the stairs two at a time and ran down the empty hallway, looking from side to side until he found the room he wanted. The door was closed. He debated whether to knock but didn't want to take the chance of anyone telling him he couldn't come in. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The shadowy room was lit only by streaks of late afternoon sunlight that escaped through the closed venetian blinds. He could see Ren lying on the farthest of the two railed hospital beds, her eyes closed, her hands folded over her flat stomach. Her toes were all that was visible of her lower right leg, which was covered from the knee down in a thick white cast.

"Ren?" He felt paralyzed, terrified that she was hurt worse than the nurses had said. Her face was parchment pale, and one cheek had a bandage taped to it.

Without opening her eyes, she turned her head toward the wall and said, "Go away, Jackson."

He crossed and sat on the bed beside her. Tears had dried on her face. He brushed his knuckles across her cheek above the square white bandage. "Are you all right?"

"No." She kept her head turned away.

"I'm sorry," he said.

He heard the gurgle as she swallowed several times.

"Please, Ren. Talk to me." He was frightened by how still she lay. He wanted to pick her up and hold her, but he was terrified of hurting her. "Ren. Sweetheart, I need-"

She wrenched her head around to look at him. "Don't. I'm not your sweetheart. I'm another man's wife. And you have a wife of your own."

He hadn't even realized he'd used the endearment. He met her gaze and saw that what he'd been thinking ever since he'd heard that she'd lost the baby was mirrored in her tortured eyes. How capriciously the G.o.ds play with mortals. How unkind fate is.

She was free now. But he was not.

He saw something else in her gaze, something greater than regret. And suddenly knew what was causing her so much pain.

Guilt.

Maybe, like him, she'd wished that Jesse's child had never been conceived-and regretted her thoughts as much as he regretted the words he'd uttered aloud. Maybe she believed some prayer she'd spoken in the depths of her despair had been answered in this awful way. What if she'd later realized how much she'd wanted her child? And G.o.d had punished her for those earlier, uncharitable thoughts by taking it from her.

He didn't dare ask. He didn't want to know. It was disturbing enough to see her in such anguish.

His heart was thumping in his chest. He wished he could tell her that he'd never stopped loving her, that he still wanted her. But he had a wife. And maybe a child of his own on the way.

Ren's eyes welled with tears, and he watched as she gritted her teeth to still the quiver in her chin. "You should leave," she said. "Jesse will be back soon."

She was right. He had no business being here. She was another man's wife. He'd already let her go once. He had to leave her alone. He had to forget about her and go on with his life.

"I wish..." He could have bitten off his tongue when he saw the despair in her eyes as she stared up at him.

The sob seemed to be torn from someplace deep inside her. She tried to turn on her side away from him but cried out in pain and grabbed for her ribs. Blackjack lifted her upright, and her arms groped for his neck and held on tight as she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

He felt his heart swell with emotion as he listened to her m.u.f.fled sobs of grief. He kissed her temple, murmuring what comfort he could, realizing as he held her close-for what might be the very last time-that the loss of this child would force them apart every bit as surely as its birth would have done. Knowing Ren, she would never forgive herself for wanting him when she was pregnant with Jesse's child.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

Ren jerked backward at the sound of Jesse's voice, crying out as her ribs protested.

Blackjack pulled her close again to spare her the pain of holding herself upright. He turned to face the man who'd married the woman he loved. "I heard Ren was hurt. I came to see for myself."

"Get away from my wife," Jesse said, crossing into the room, headed straight for him.

"Jesse, please," Ren cried.

Blackjack saw her face had been robbed of what little color it possessed. She looked frightened and ashamed. It was the shame that angered him.

She was struggling against his hold and whimpering with the pain it was causing her. He let her go and watched as she wrapped her arms around her ribs and held herself tight, as though she might splinter into pieces if she did not. Her eyes were squeezed closed, and her teeth bit hard on her lower lip.

He felt Jesse's hand grab at his shoulder and shrugged it off as he stood and confronted the other man. "We can talk outside," he said.

"We'll talk right here."

Blackjack glanced over his shoulder at Ren. Her eyes were closed, but she could hear just fine. He didn't want her hurt any more than she already was. For her sake, he had to placate her husband.

"There's nothing between me and Ren," he said.

"Right," Jesse said, his lips twisted in scorn. "She told me what happened between you two-after she cried out your name at the wrong time."

He could see Ren from the corner of his eye. Her eyes were open now and wary, her face suddenly flushed. With mortification? With humiliation? How dare her husband reveal what must have been a very private-and awkward-moment between them?

He could understand Jesse's animosity better. But he wondered just how much of the story the other man knew. Whether she'd told him how they'd made love at the pond, and what a shattering experience it had been for both of them. How they'd spent the rest of the afternoon loving one another, when there had been no question of who he was. That he'd known even then that he wanted to spend his life with her. And that she'd known even then that she was pregnant with Jesse's child.

The child she had lost.

"What happened between Ren and me is in the past," Blackjack said. "I'm married now."

"Then what are you doing here making love to my wife?"

"I came to offer my condolences and-"

"And to see if she'd be your wh.o.r.e again?"

"Watch your tongue," Blackjack said, as adrenaline pumped through his veins. "She's your wife."

"And your lover!" Jesse accused.

Before he could reply, he heard another female cry-this time from beyond Jesse's shoulder. Jesse turned at the sound, and Blackjack saw Eve pressed against the doorjamb, her eyes stricken. He felt his stomach cramp as he realized the disaster his visit here had wrought.

"Eve, I-"

She didn't give him a chance to explain, simply whirled and ran.

He turned his anger on Jesse. "I could kill you for that."

"I only spoke the truth," Jesse said stubbornly. "You're a lowdown, wife-stealing-"

"See to your wife," Blackjack said abruptly. "She needs you." He resisted the urge to vent his anger in violence, as he shoved his way past Jesse and went in search of his wife.

The promising start of his marriage had been spoiled. His wife, it turned out, was pregnant with his eldest son Trace. He hadn't seen Ren again for a long time, and when he had, she'd avoided looking at him. Her husband had remained jealous ever after. And though Eve had professed to love him, even after what she'd heard, her laughter had disappeared.

Over the years, though he'd never so much as spoken to Ren, Eve's resentment of the other woman had grown. He'd felt frustrated, unable to convince his wife that he had nothing to do with Lauren Creed. He'd spent nearly every night of his marriage in his wife's bed, but that one mistake had never been forgotten... or forgiven.

Four years ago, Eve had asked her lover-his own foreman-to hire someone to murder Ren. The gunman had mistaken his mark, and Jesse Creed had been killed instead.

Leaving Ren a widow and free to marry him.

Well, not quite free. Jesse had pa.s.sed on his animosity for all things Blackthorne to his children. Surprisingly, their two girls had ended up marrying two of Blackjack's boys. But he was going to have to find a way to make peace with her two sons. Otherwise, there could be no future for him with this woman.

No, he wasn't at all sure that he and Ren would end up together. But he had to try. The rest of his life would be infinitely long and lonely without her.

Blackjack felt his breath catch as the rising sun hit Ren's face through the kitchen window, illuminating her beauty. Nothing can keep me away from you now, he thought. Nothing and n.o.body.

"Mom? Are you in there? Are you all right?"

Blackjack saw the terror in Ren's eyes as she glanced toward the screen door. "That's Sam."