CHAPTER THREE

      ALLIE’S stomach churned with guilt and self-condemnation. Zane hadn’t given her a single accusatory look. He hadn’t uttered one word of blame. He hadn’t yelled at her for ordering his daughter to stay on the swing. He hadn’t blamed his daughter’s accident on Allie or done or said anything indicating he thought Allie was in any way at fault.

      He didn’t have to. Allie knew she was to blame.

      Greeley walked into the hospital waiting room in Aspen. “How is she?”

      “She broke her left radius. This bone.” Allie pointed to her lower arm. “Luckily it was a simple fracture. They didn’t have to move it back into place or anything. They’re putting on a cast now. What are you doing here?”

      “After you called her, Mom called me on the cell phone since I was on my way to Aspen to deliver a sculpture. I picked up Moonie from Zane’s truck and went over to your place and fed Amber and Moonie and walked him. He refused to stay there, so he’s out in my truck.” Greeley sat beside Allie. “Mom said you sounded pretty upset. You okay?”

      “Sure, why wouldn’t I be? I didn’t break anything. It was all my fault,” Allie added in a rush.

      “You push her out of the swing?”

      Greeley meant the question to be absurd, but her sister wasn’t so far wrong. “I sent her away. Told her to go to her swing and stay there. When she fell, she lay under the swing in pain. She told Zane she was being a good girl.”

      “Don’t tell me Zane is blaming you.”

      “He hasn’t said anything, but he must blame me. If I hadn’t told her to stay there...”

      “It could have been dangerous for you or for her if she’d climbed up on the round pen while you were working a green filly. You did the right thing telling her to stay away.”

      “I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly.”

      “Harshly? Or firmly?”

      Allie clenched her hands together. “I used the voice I use when boys are fighting on the playground. Worth calls it my ‘or else’ voice.”

      “An adult has to protect children from themselves. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.”

      Allie didn’t know what to do with her hands. She picked at the frayed edges of the hole in the knee of her jeans. “I never wanted her to get hurt. I didn’t mean...”

      Greeley patted Allie’s restless fingers. “Of course you didn’t.”

      “Didn’t I?” The words burst from Allie. “What if, subconsciously, I wanted to hurt her, wanted her to go away, not just from the round pen, but go away forever?”

      “What is with you? You don’t usually dramatize like this.”

      “I’m serious, Greeley. I’ve been sitting here thinking about how much Zane hurt me and how much I hated him and hated that woman he married.”

      “What does all this have to do with the girl’s fall?”

      “Don’t you get it?” Allie leaned her head against the wall behind her chair. “The only reason Zane married that woman was because she was pregnant with his child. You have no idea how much I resented one little girl. It’s unreasonable, childish and ugly, but I couldn’t stop. I told myself she didn’t ask to be born, but...” Her voice faltered. “I couldn’t stop thinking, if she hadn’t been conceived, hadn’t been born...”

      “I don’t think any of us had any idea you felt this way,” Greeley said slowly. “Why didn’t you say something?”

      “What could I say that didn’t make me out more of a fool than I’d already been? I’d loved Zane so much for so long. What does that say about me that I loved someone so worthless, someone who could hurt me so badly? I know what happened was Zane’s fault, but if I blamed him, I admitted I was stupid, a loser. You know I’m too vain for that.” Allie made a pathetic attempt at a smile. “But I had to blame someone, so I blamed the woman he married, and by extension the baby, because without the baby he never would have married that woman. None of it makes sense, but I couldn’t help it.”

      Greeley reached for Allie’s hand and squeezed hard. “Listen to me, Allie Lassiter. Zane Peters’s behavior does not reflect on you. Do you think Mom was stupid for putting up with Beau?”

      Allie looked directly at her sister. “Yes.”

      Greeley made a face. “Actually, so do I, so that was a bad example. Mom took him in every time he showed up at her door, knowing full well the second he healed enough, he’d cheat on her again. It’s not the same at all with you and Zane.”

      Her sister had missed the point. “Mom never seemed to resent you because of Beau sleeping with the woman who gave birth to you.”

      “Mom knew what Beau and that woman did had nothing to do with me. Sometimes I thought she had to be pretending she loved me as much as she loved the rest of you.” After a moment, she added, “I used to test her.”

      “I know.” Allie closed her eyes in despair. “I wish I were more like Mom. All I could think about was how Zane’s daughter messed up my whole life. She’s a baby, and I resented her. Greeley, I hated her.”

      This evening when she’d found the child lying in pain beneath the swing, for the first time Allie had seen Hannah as an individual, not an extension of her mother or the reason why Zane had abandoned Allie. She’d wanted to take Hannah in her arms and hold her close, begging the child’s forgiveness. The realization that she’d sunk so low as to hate a child appalled and shamed Allie. “I couldn’t stand being around Hannah,” she said in a tortured voice. “I couldn’t even say her name. I couldn’t bear talking to her or looking at her.”

      “You won’t have to ever again. I’ll find someone else to work with the filly.”

      Allie’s eyes snapped open, and her stomach plunged to the floor. Zane had heard her confession to Greeley. The hard, angry look on his face told her he’d accept neither an apology