Chapter Four

      The hallway went dark. Completely. Like a rabbit hole. And he was tumbling down, down, down. The only sound he heard was his heart slamming against his ribs in panic.

      You’re Erin’s father.

      He’d known.

      Somewhere in his subconscious, he’d known. That was why he couldn’t leave the hospital. Angie had desperately wanted to get rid of him, and that had triggered his lawyer’s antenna. True, he’d just run into her child with his truck, but he’d sensed it was more than that. So he’d kept prodding. Kept insisting. Kept questioning.

      Oh, my God! He’d hit his own child.

      How could that be?

      He rose to his feet like a drunk who’d spent too many hours in a bar. His head hurt. His nerves were shaky, and he couldn’t focus beyond the now.

      You’re Erin’s father.

      “We used protection. How could she be mine?” He was still holding on to the belief that it wasn’t possible he had a child and didn’t know.

      “Condoms are not one hundred percent foolproof. You should know that.”

      He shook his head. “No...no...” But from her steady gaze, he knew she wasn’t lying. “How could you do this to me?” burst from his throat.

      Her head down, her hands clasped in her lap, she replied in a voice that seemed to echo through the hole in his heart. “How was I supposed to tell you when you weren’t here?”

      “My father knew how to get in touch with me. You could have asked him.”

      “I did. I made the trip twice, and both times he thought I wanted to speak to Rachel. He called her in Paris so we could talk. The second time Rachel didn’t answer and I asked about you. He told me you were engaged and getting married around Christmas. He added that you’d found the perfect wife for your political career. I couldn’t tell you after that. I could have ruined your life.”

      “That’s supposed to make it okay?”

      Angie kept her head down. “Of course not.”

      “Why? Why would you keep it from me all these years?” He tried to keep his voice calm but feared he’d failed. He sounded like a drill sergeant.

      “If you remember, you were in Europe. When I realized you were back and living in Houston, I tried your cell number and it wasn’t working anymore.”

      “It was stolen in Paris, and I got a new one.”

      “I was young and didn’t know what to do. You didn’t love me, and the fact that I was pregnant would only wreck your life, your career. That’s the way I saw it then.”

      “So you thought it was better for your daughter and me to never know about each other. Wait. I’ve been back for over two years in Horseshoe and in that time you couldn’t find a moment to tell me the truth?”

      She heaved a sigh. “I tried. Three times, if you’ll remember.”

      “When?”

      “You were home for a while before I even knew you were back in Horseshoe, but when I saw you talking to Wyatt outside the courthouse, I left the bakery and walked over. I asked if you had a few minutes to talk, and you looked at your watch and said you had a meeting in fifteen minutes and that you would catch me later. I waited, but you never made any move to get in touch with me.”

      He remembered. “You didn’t make it sound important. I guess I forgot.”

      “No, you didn’t forget. You just didn’t want to talk to me because there were two other times I tried to tell you and you brushed me off.”

      He frowned. “When?”

      “You were busy campaigning for the D.A. job, but I hung in there, wanting you to know you had a child. You were getting in your truck at the courthouse, and I stopped you and asked if you had a few minutes. A blonde walked up. You know those blondes you’re known for dating—a model type, perfect body. And once again you said you’d catch me later. Still, I didn’t give up. At Wyatt and Peyton’s at Christmas I asked again if we could talk. And you know what you did, Hardy?”

      He clamped his jaw tight because he had no defense.

      “You introduced me to your new girlfriend and you quickly forgot my request. I didn’t know how else I was supposed to tell you when you clearly didn’t want to talk to me. So don’t stand there and point the finger unless you are completely blameless.”

      He wasn’t. He knew that, and he was struggling with the consequences of his actions. He remembered all those times she’d approached him and, God help him, he’d thought she had wanted to start their relationship over again. How could he be so blind? So self-centered?

      He took a moment to gather his thoughts and tried to find some normalcy in this awful day. Tried to find a reason why he’d shut her out.

      He said the first thing that came into his mind. “Why did you marry someone else?”

      “My friend Dennis found me crying one day after class. He wanted to know what was wrong, and I told him what I hadn’t told anyone else. We studied together and went to the movies a couple of times. We were good friends, but Dennis wanted it to be more. His solution was we’d just get married and he’d raise the child as his. Out of fear of my mother’s wrath, I agreed.”

      “What happened to the marriage?”

      She twisted her fingers together. “When I was about seven months, Dennis asked if I loved him. I knew what he wanted to hear, but I couldn’t say the words. He said he’d hoped that I would grow to love