Even what?

He turned and stumbled out of her room without finishing his sentence, head down. In a few minutes, the sound of the front door slamming reverberated through the house.

Tara lay in her bed a long time after that, trying to gather the tattered remnants of her mind. She struggled to find a shred of self-respect and reason .

Why didn't I stop him, push him away until we could deal with what was between us?

She didn't even want to think about how he'd feel when everything was exposed in the light of day. Would he ever want to look at her again? Could she face him?

Finally the tears she'd been forcing back all night flooded her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. She made no effort to wipe them away, just let them keep flowing. She wanted to scream, to rage, but she could only lie there, crying silently.

At last, she pulled herself out of bed and went to the shower, standing under it for a long time, as if she could wash away the searing memory of the night. She dried herself off, pulled a fresh nightgown from the drawer and crawled back into her bed. She had no idea how she would face the next day.

There was no sign of Cole in the morning and no note, but Tara wasn't expecting any. In fact, his absence was a relief. She felt as if she'd been in a prolonged battle, her senses and pride battered and bruised. She had no idea how they were going to get past all this. The memory of last night was burned into her mind-the brief but terrible argument, the deep, exhausted sleep she'd fallen into and the dream that wasn't a dream after all. She could still feel the imprint of his body on hers, the slide of their skin together and his touch that had drawn her up the spiral into explosive ecstasy. As much time as they'd spent dancing around it, last night should have been wonderful, not the unbelievable disaster it really was.

Why hadn't she turned him away? That was the question she kept asking herself. He must have wanted her very badly to do this, but why had he gotten so drunk? What demons pushed him to lash out at her then claim her as his own? And what had he thought when she'd accepted him so willingly into her bed and her body? Every time she thought of it, her face burned with shame. The why didn't matter. She'd done it. That was all.

"I love you, Cole," she whispered, saying it aloud for the first time. And despite what had happened, she knew it was true. "Why can't you tell me the awful secret that keeps that haunted look in your eyes? Why can't we love each other the way I know we both want?"

Well, it was all blown to h.e.l.l now. Any chance they might have had was certainly wrecked by what had happened. A sickness and despair settled in her heart. She didn't think it would ever go away. If not for Molly needing her, she would have gone back to bed and hoped she didn't wake up until next year.

"Oh, sweetie," she whispered to Molly as she dressed her, "I think your mama has finally run into a problem she can't solve. Whatever's got your daddy hurting so bad is more than I can handle." She pressed her lips to Molly's baby-soft skin. "If it weren't for you, I'd be gone in a flash.

But don't you worry. Mama will never, ever leave you. I just wish you were old enough to give me some answers."

Molly cooed and reached up a chubby little hand, patting Tara's cheeks.

Tears p.r.i.c.ked Tara's eyelids. No, there was no way she'd leave this child. But how could she and Cole get past this nightmare? Could they even talk to each other? What would she say to him, for G.o.d's sake?

"I want you, Tara," he'd murmured in his drunken haze. "Please. We'll be so good together."

I want you, too, Cole.

She made a pot of coffee then burned her lip drinking it while it was too hot. But the strong, black liquid seemed to shock her brain into motion and allowed her to perform her necessary tasks. She had a child to care for. A self-indulgent collapse would have to wait.

The phone rang several times while she fed Molly breakfast. She ignored it, letting the machine pick up. There was no way she could talk to Cole right now, or anyone else, so she just listened numbly as the messages played.

"Tara?" Her mother's voice. "Darling, are you there? Can you pick up? I just want to tell you what a great time we had yesterday. Well, all right. Call me when you get back from wherever you are."

I'm in h.e.l.l, Mother. I don't know if I'll ever be back.

Four or five hang-up calls. Cole? What could he possibly say to her? Or she to him?

Then Jake. "Tara? Can you please answer? I just want to talk to you for a minute."

Not on your life.

"Please? Tara?"

Two more calls from Jake, the message the same. Then a call from the ranch.

"Tara? It's Lindsey. I guess you must be busy with Molly. Please give me a call."

Lindsey was the one person she even thought about talking to, but what would she say?

My husband hurt me last night with words that still sting. Then he got drunk, climbed into my bed, and I welcomed him with open arms. That would make for great conversation.

She turned the volume down on the answering machine, but the ringing still drove her nuts, so she unplugged the phones. For a long time, she sat in the nursery with Molly, rocking in the chair while the little girl lay in her playpen and played with her toys. She wondered if her heart could possibly ache more than it did. Finally, needing the closeness, she picked Molly up and snuggled her in her lap, laying her cheek against the warm skin.

"Mama's having a bad day, sweetheart. Maybe a bad year."

Maybe a bad life.

Jake had driven into town to pick up a file he needed to work on at home and get some things Lindsey needed. He was surprised to see Cole's car parked in the lot, even more surprised when he entered his office, saw the cabinet door jimmied open and the bourbon missing. When he knocked on his partner's locked office door, he got no answer so he knocked again more loudly.

"Go away." The voice was like that of a wounded bear.

"Cole. d.a.m.n it, let me in, or I'll let myself in."

"Just go away. Leave me alone."

Using his key, he unlocked the door and pushed it open then stopped, hardly able to believe what he saw. Cole was sitting hunched over on the couch, his head in his hands. His clothes were a wreck, his hair unkempt, and it was obvious he hadn't shaved. The entire office reeked of bourbon and stale sweat.

When Cole looked up, his bloodshot eyes were full of unbelievable pain. His red-rimmed eyes were those of a man not just drunk, but one who'd been crying.

Jake felt a stab of panic. "Jesus, Cole. What the h.e.l.l happened? You didn't look this bad during the Maggie crisis. Why aren't you home with your wife and child? "

"It isn't my child. And my wife should pack up and leave me if she has any sense."

Jake shoved his hands in his pockets. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

Cole scrubbed at his face. "I'm a miserable b.a.s.t.a.r.d. That's what's going on."

"I'll agree to that if you want, but I still want to know what the h.e.l.l put you in this shape.

You haven't had anything but a gla.s.s or two of wine in two years." He frowned. "Did you do something stupid again?"

"Stupid. Yeah, that's a good word." He leaned against the back of the couch, his eyes closed. "First, I blew up at Tara, insulted her, said things she'll never forgive. Then I got drunk, went home and climbed into bed with her, naked. How's that for a happy holiday?"

Jake silently counted to ten. Surely, he hadn't heard right. "Is that why you broke into my cabinet and stole my liquor like some teenager? I'm sure there's a saner explanation than that."

"I wish I hadn't had so much bourbon. I could probably use another drink to blot everything out. Maybe I wouldn't hate myself so much."

"Yeah, right. That's a wonderful remedy. Go wash your face and pull yourself together while I make coffee."

When Cole returned to the office, he looked only marginally better. Jake handed a fresh mug of coffee to him.

"Don't spill it, please."

Cole sat down at his desk, his hands wrapped around the mug. "Thanks. But you better go home to your wife and child. It's a holiday, remember?"

"I'm not leaving here until you tell me what's happened," Jake said. "Or do you want me to call Tara?"

"G.o.d, no." Cole took another sip of coffee. "That's the last thing I want."

"Then start talking."

And so he did, laying out every sordid detail. He didn't know how long he talked, but he managed to get it all out. When he was finished, he looked up, his face filled with such self-loathing that Jake was appalled. In all the years, they'd known each other, he'd had never seen his friend falling apart this way.

"Jesus, Cole," he said, at a complete loss. "What the h.e.l.l got into you? And to get drunk the way you did? What did you think that would accomplish? Remember what happened the last time you got into the booze. You're supposed to be an adult. It's time to start acting like one again."

"I know, I know." Cole shook his head. "The worst part is, I can't even remember everything that happened."

"What?" Jake stared at his partner. "You mean you don't know if anything happened or not? If she kicked you out of bed or..."

"That's right." Cole held his head in his hands.

"For G.o.d's sake, how drunk were you?"

"It seems quite a lot." There was nothing heroic about Cole Ca.s.sidy this morning. He was a human being whose mistakes had all come back to haunt him in one big explosion. He'd managed to fall into the hole he'd been digging for himself.

Jake knew he needed more than a pot of coffee to fix this problem. He took out his cell phone, stepped outside the office and tried calling Tara, but the answering machine kept picking up. He was sure she was ducking calls and for good reason. He hoped when she heard his voice she'd answer, but no such luck.

After three tries, he gave up and called Lindsey. "I'm only calling you because Tara's going to need someone." He visualized the stunned look on her face as he told her what had happened.

"I'm sure she feels as if a truck ran over her. I don't have a clue as to how you'll handle this, but we can't just leave her alone. Someone has to be around for her, whether she wants it or not."

"Oh, my G.o.d, Jake, what a disaster."

"And listen. If you can believe this, Cole doesn't even remember if he...if they...if anything. I mean, you can't exactly ask Tara to give you details. You know?"

"That's the truth. Good lord. What a mess. Don't worry." Her sigh was loud over the phone. "All right. I'll figure out what to do. I won't leave her sitting alone in that house. But don't you dare let him go back there."

Walking back into the office, Jake found Cole sitting just as he had left him, staring out the window. He walked over and took the coffee mug out of his partner's hand.

"You can't stay here," he told him, "and you can't go home. We have to figure out what to do."

Lindsey called back before Cole could say anything.

"Tara's still not answering," she told him.

"Not even for you?"

"No. Emilio's going to drive me into town." Because her pregnancies were high risk, Lindsey's doctor didn't really want her driving and neither did Jake.

"Just take care of yourself."

"I will. Don't worry. You know, she'll be humiliated that I even know about this, but I can't worry about that now. I'm going to pack up her and Molly and bring them out to the ranch for a couple of days. And when you come home, be very gentle and discreet around her."

"You don't have to tell me that, sweetheart," he a.s.sured her in a soft tone. "I can't even imagine what she's going through."

"What are you going to do with Cole?" Lindsey wanted to know.

"You mean besides shoot him or throw him off the top of the building? I guess I'll take him to Sean's. I'm going to call there right now."

Cole's brother cursed a steady stream for more than a minute.

"I can't believe this is the same man who kicked my a.s.s growing up and taught me self control and respect for other people." His voice held a mixture of both anger and disappointment.

"This Molly thing has left a festering sore on his soul. It needs to be lanced and drained before it becomes terminal."

"Well, if we can't help him patch this up with Tara, it may not make a difference. I think it's time for us to take charge here and make things happen." Jake paused. "Can I dump him on your doorstep?"

Sean snorted. "Do I have a choice?"

"Not much." Jake laughed grimly. "Lindsey's taking Tara and Molly out to the ranch, and I d.a.m.n sure don't want to leave him to his own devices."

"Sure, bring him on over. When you get done beating on him, I can take my turn."

"I'll call when we're on the way."

They both hung up, and Jake turned back to Cole.

"Okay, your brother took pity on you," he told his partner. "I hope he has some clothes you can change into. You'll probably have to burn these."

"I don't know what to do, Jake." There was a heavier note of depression in Cole's voice than his friend had ever heard. "What the h.e.l.l got into me?"

"Be nice to know the answer to that." Jake shook his head. "I think you were looking for one more way to punish yourself and took Tara along for the ride."

"You want to know something else?"

Jake widened his eyes. "You mean there's more?"

"Oh, yeah." Cole ran his fingers through his hair again. "I was jealous of you and Lindsey and the new baby coming. How's that for being a good friend? I wanted a baby of my own, a child with Tara. But I didn't know how to change the rules."

Jake studied his partner's face, seeing the deep lines of pain etched into it. "Well, you sure picked the wrong way to do it." He would have said more, but he shut up, seeing the look of despondency on Cole's face.

"Do you think she'll ever talk to me again?"

"Let's hope so."

"I wanted her, Jake, but I sure hadn't meant for it to happen this way."

"Well, here's the plan," Jake told him. "Lindsey's going to take Tara and Molly out to the ranch for a few days. Tara will hate the fact that this dirty little secret is out, but I'm more concerned about leaving her alone at this point than I am about her pride."