Page 27 of You'll Find Out
“Haven’t you?”
He cupped her chin in his hand and watched while his finger outlined the soft hill of her cheek. “Never,” he whispered and let his lips touch hers.
“Are we home?” Angie asked from the back seat, rubbing her eyes and only catching a glimpse of the intimate kiss.
“Yes, honey,” Mara said, hurriedly opening the car door and reaching for Angie. “Come on in the house and I’ll fix us a quick dinner.”
“Can I play with the kitties—Southpaw’s kitties?” Angie asked, her gaze running around the foundation of the house, looking for the mother cat.
“For a few minutes, honey. Until dinner is ready.” A smile spread over Angie’s face, and she immediately took off in the direction of the back porch.
* * *
It was nearly nine o’clock by the time dinner was over, Angie was bathed, the dishes were done, and the little girl was asleep in her bed. She had found the kittens and talked Shane into crawling under the back porch to get them. Against Southpaw’s soft protests, Shane extracted the kittens and helped Angie make a bed for them in the screened-in portion of the porch. Southpaw didn’t seem too pleased with the new arrangement, but Angie was delighted with a bird’s-eye view of the four chubby gray-and-white cats. “You can help me name them,” she had announced to Shane, who was more than thrilled at the prospect, supplying names of his favorite football players.
“I don’t think O.J. is a very good name for a kitty,” Angie confided in Mara as she was being tucked into bed.
“Neither do I,” Mara laughed. “But if Shane likes it, maybe we had better use it.”
“Don’t like it,” Angie repeated with a yawn, and Mara kissed her lightly on the forehead. Angie snuggled against the pillow, and before Mara could turn out the light, the little girl was breathing deeply and evenly. Shane stood in the doorway, watching the intimate scene between mother and daughter, and wondered how he had found himself so tangled up with Mara all over again. It wasn’t what he had planned, and he mentally chastised himself for his weakness where Mara was concerned. All the years of bitterness and deception were beginning to wash away, and he knew that if he allowed himself, he could fall in love with her, just as easily as he had the first time, nearly four years ago. An uneasy feeling that he had never really stopped loving her crept over him, and he wondered if there was ever a time when he hadn’t cared for her, as he had forced himself to believe. But now, as she bent down to kiss his child, and the moonglow caught the golden highlights of her hair, a warm feeling of protectiveness stole over him. Was it Mara that he cared for, or was he just succumbing to latent feelings of fatherhood for the child he had never met until late this morning? Now that he knew about Angie, was he mixing up his feelings for Mara with his newfound emotions for the little blond girl with the slightly upturned nose and the mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes?
“She doesn’t think much of the names that you gave the kittens,” Mara whispered as she closed the door quietly and started down the long carpeted hallway toward the stairs.
“I heard,” Shane chuckled, walking at Mara’s side. “Can you blame her? Who ever heard of naming newborn kittens after football heroes? No wonder she thinks the names are ill-fitting.”
“ ‘Crummy,’ I think, was the word she used,” Shane replied, and noticed Mara’s wistful smile. “She’s not exactly afraid to speak her mind, is she?”
“Not that one,” Mara agreed.
Shane apparently found the thought amusing and chuckled at the image of the outspoken child.
“Oh, you think it’s funny, do you?” Mara baited. “Well, just you wait. You’ll get yours. Let me tell you, her outbursts can be embarrassing—damned embarrassing!”
Shane touched Mara’s arm just as they stepped off the staircase and headed toward the back of the house. “You know what they say, ‘From the mouths of babes—’ ”
“I know,” Mara agreed, waving off the rest of his quote and snapping on the kitchen lights. “And I suppose you’re right,” she admitted reluctantly. “Anyway, I wouldn’t change one thing about her.”
“I would,” Shane countered, and clicked the light back off. Once again, the kitchen was dark, except for the pale, filtered moonglow.
“What?” Mara asked, breathlessly. The light mood and banter of a moment before had changed when darkness had covered the room. It was as if she couldfeelShane standing next to her, not touching her, and yet reaching out to her. “What would you change about Angie?” Mara was slightly taken aback. All afternoon she had been led to believe that Shane was absolutely enchanted with his headstrong young daughter.
“I want them back, Mara,” Shane whispered, and his fingers brushed invitingly against her upper arm. “The three years that I haven’t known her . . . haven’t been around her . . . I want them back.”
She paused a moment before answering. The silence was burdensome and painful, and it was with difficulty that she found her voice. Her fingers touched his and pressed his hand more tightly against her arm. “Those years are gone, Shane . . . if they were so important to you, you should have taken them when you had the chance.”
“Damn it, Mara! I didn’t have a chance!”
“Oh, Shane,” Mara sighed, rotating to face him and looking deeply into his eyes that were almost ebony in the darkness of the room. “We can’t change the past. It’s difficult, I know—and we’ve both made mistakes. But we have no choice but to live with them.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he admitted thoughtfully, though the tone of his voice lacked conviction. His fingertip reached up and touched her eyelid, and the thick brush of her eyelashes.
Mara closed her eyes and leaned against him. “For the rest of the weekend, let’s try to forget all of our problems and the past. Can’t we just concentrate on the present and the future?” she asked, leaning against his chest.
He hesitated, and reached for her right hand. After taking in a long breath and letting his fingers entwine through hers, he continued: “That depends.”
“On what?”
“A couple of things. The first being that you tell me just how you think another two weeks will give you the courage you need to face June Wilcox and tell her that Angie is my child.” His fingers tightened over her hand.
