Page 53 of Point of Mercy
“I got high-tops!” Adam proclaimed,proudly displaying white basketball shoes with a famous insignia.
“We’ll fix that.” With a grin that seemed to light his very soul, Turner picked the boy up and hugged him close. It felt right holding his boy—like nothing he’d ever experienced—and Turner knew that with each passing minute he’d want more until he had it all. There was no turning back, no way he could pretend Adam didn’t exist.
But he wouldn’t rip a son from his mother. He’d lost his own mom when he wasn’t all that old and he’d missed her every day of his life since. No, somehow Turner would have to work out a compromise with Heather, find a way that they each could spend as much time with Adam as possible.
For a second, he thought of marrying her. There were certainly worse twists his life could take, but he didn’t believe for a minute that she would agree. She’d be bored to death here on the farm, and he’d curl up and die in the city. And she would want love—not companionship, not sex, not even friendship. She wanted to be loved. And she deserved that much. Hell, what a mess! For a second he was furious with her again. If only she’d been honest with him way back when, bridging this abyss wouldn’t be necessary.
He spied Heather walking across the porch, and again his heart leapt to his throat. God, she was beautiful—too beautiful. A graceful, intriguing creature who should have been modeling for some highbrow agency in New York. Without makeup, with the layers of sophistication peeled away, she was still the most sensual woman he’d ever met. Her blond hair was pulled into a ponytail and held by a leather thong. She was wearing an outfit befitting a country singer. Stylized cowgirl. Earthy with a touch of glitz.
The kind of woman that stayed with you long after she’d said goodbye. The kind of woman a man could get used to. The kind of woman he would marry. The idea sent a jolt through his brain. He’d never considered marriage—not seriously, though once before, when he’d found out that Heather had left the Lazy K, he’d contemplated tracking her down and proposing. The urge had passed when he’d realized that she’d married Leonetti.
But now…marriage didn’t seem so unlikely, though he doubted she would give up her fast-paced lifestyle in the city to become a rancher’s wife. He kicked the idea of marriage around and found it wasn’t as distasteful as he’d originally thought.
“Momma’s a cowboy, too!” Adam chirped as Turner held the door open for Heather.
“I’ll get the rest of your things,” he said.
Heather’s blue gaze touched his for a second, before shifting to a point beyond him. Her smile faded, and the color seeped from her face. “Heather?” he asked, before glancing over his shoulder and spying Nadine, dust rag in one hand, mop in the other as she stood in the archway to the kitchen.
“Company?” Nadine asked, her smile frozen, her eyes dark with quiet emotions.
Turner couldn’t stand the deception a second longer. He hated lies and wasn’t about to let Heather’s web of deceit tie him into knots—especially not where Nadine was concerned.He should have used his hard head and told her earlier. “Nadine, I’d like you to meet Heather Leonetti.” Nadine’s arched brows inched up a bit. “And this is Adam. My son.”
Heather gasped.
Nadine’s mouth dropped open and she quickly snapped it shut. “Excuse me?”
“Turner!” Heather cried, glancing in horror at her boy. Adam’s little face was puckered a bit, but he didn’t seem all that concerned about the fact that every grown-up in the room was nearly apoplectic.
“And this is Nadine Warne, my housekeeper.”
Heather’s throat closed in on itself. She wanted to strangle Turner right then and there. What right did he have to break the news to Adam this way? And Nadine, who from the knowing glance she cast Turner, cared more for him than she did for mopping his floors…what did she think?
After a second’s hesitation, Nadine left her mop in the kitchen and stuffed her dust rag into a pocket. She managed what appeared to be a genuine smile as she walked toward Adam with her hand extended. “Well, how are you?”
“He’s confused, that’s what he is,” Heather cut in, though she wasn’t angry with Nadine. Obviously the woman was shocked and making the best out of a bad situation. But Turner…he was another matter. She’d love to pummel him with her fists, and the look she shot him told him just that.
“Maybe I’d better come back another time,” Nadine said, her sad gaze landing on Adam.
“It’s all right,” Turner replied. His strong tanned arms surrounded his son with such possession that Heather didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.Adam needed a father, a man to care for him, but Heather couldn’t find it in her heart to let go of her boy even a little. “I’ll bring in Heather’s things and we’ll be out of your hair. Adam wants a tour of the ranch, don’t you, kid?”
“I want to break a bronco!”
Turner smiled and winked. “Slow down, son. We have to save something for tomorrow.”
“I won’t let him—”
“Enough,” Turner said sharply, then at Heather’s gasp, added in a gentler tone to his son, “Come on, let’s bring the rest of the bags inside.” Hand in hand, father and son walked through the door, leaving Heather standing in the entry hall, trying to think of some kind of conversation she could drum up with Nadine.
“I would’ve known anyway,” Nadine admitted to Heather. Through the window, she watched Turner as he stepped out of the shadow of the house, into the dry dust of the yard. He set Adam on his feet and the boy took off, pell-mell to the fence nearest the barn. “Adam’s the spitting image of his pa.”
“I think so, too.”
Nadine nodded. “I grew up with Turner, you know. Seeing Adam…well, it takes me back about twenty-five years.” She wiped her hands on the rag in her pocket. “I’m surprised he didn’t tell me.”
“He didn’t know,” Heather said, deciding it was time for the truth to be told. There was no reason to lie any longer. Even if Nadine didn’t turn out to be the biggest gossip in Gold Creek,the news was bound to get out. Turner would see to it. “It…it’s complicated,” she added.
“With Turner, it always is,” Nadine replied. Then, as if shaking herself out of a great melancholy, she cocked her head toward the kitchen. “Come on inside. Look around. I don’t know if he’s got anything in the refrigerator but beer and milk two weeks beyond the pull date, but there might be a soda.”
