A Dad At Last. Marie Ferrarella
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you,” she murmured, raising her eyes to Connor and the men who were gathered behind him. “Thank you all for bringing my baby back to me.”
“Can we hold the thanks until we get into the house?” Garrett Lord requested. The month-old wound in his shoulder still ached, and he needed a painkiller.
Belatedly, Connor realized that Lacy had rushed out in her bare feet. Sometimes the woman didn’t have the sense she was born with. She could hurt herself on the stony drive.
“Get inside before we add a sprained ankle to the list of things that’ve gone wrong for you,” he ordered, slipping an arm around her.
Some things might have gone wrong, Lacy thought, but other things had gone very right. She had her baby back, and Connor, however temporarily, was in her life once more. There was no way she felt in the wrong tonight.
“Throw away the list,” Lacy told him. Without being conscious of it, she leaned into Connor as they walked to the house, absorbing the strength that radiated from him. “All that matters is that you found Chase and brought him back to me.”
“Not quite all,” Jake Maitland corrected, coming in behind them. He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the coatrack, snaring a hook. He wrapped one arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her toward him, pausing to kiss Camille before he continued. He noted that the women were all looking at him, waiting for him to continue. “I think equally important is that Janelle is finally behind bars, and if there’s any justice in this world, will never bother you or anyone else in this family—” he looked at his mother “—again.”
“What about Connor?” Abby asked, then immediately realized her mistake. “I mean Petey.”
“Well, he’s not going to be sharing a cell with Janelle, that’s for damn sure,” Michael told her.
Megan turned from Michael and looked at her youngest son’s face for confirmation. Jake grimly nodded. “He had a gun with him. When we showed up, Janelle goaded him into shooting it out with us instead of giving up. Petey didn’t stand a chance.”
“Petey?” Lacy echoed. She looked at Connor. “Was that his name?”
Connor nodded. “That was his name. Seems he was married to Janelle, the poor bastard.” He shrugged. “Maybe he’s better off this way. No telling what she had up her sleeve for him next. That woman had him jumping through flaming hoops and swearing it was his idea.” He saw the quizzical look in Lacy’s eyes. “He talked a little before he died. What he didn’t tell us, Janelle did.”
Once she’d stopped cursing them all to hell, she’d made an about-face and confessed. Proudly. It left Connor mystified how the woman could be so proud of being so evil and spreading that poison into so many lives.
Megan shook her head. It all seemed like such a horrible waste to her. Greed and jealousy were terrible things. She cleared her throat, glad to be done with this chapter.
“The important thing is that it’s all over.” Megan’s eyes swept the young men and women in her home, her gratitude evident. For the first time in days, she felt like eating. “What do you say we all go into the kitchen and I’ll see if I can fix us a celebratory late dinner.” She thought of the time. It was close to dawn. “Or early breakfast, as it were,” she amended. “All this tension has helped me work up an appetite.”
Assenting murmurs went up, but Megan noticed that Connor began to distance himself from the others. Their eyes met, and she raised a silent brow.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon go up to my room and get some sleep right now,” he said. “I’m about ready to drop in my tracks.”
Megan felt a smattering of disappointment. Now that this major hurdle had been resolved to their satisfaction, she would have thought that Connor would want to remain with his son and his son’s mother, at least for a little while.
But she was well versed in reading expressions. One look at him told her not to push. Connor had his reasons for withdrawing. Maybe he needed a little time to assimilate all that had happened. From what she gathered, he hadn’t even known he had a son until just after the kidnapping had come to light and Lacy had regained her memory.
“Of course, Connor,” she agreed. “You must be exhausted.”
Maybe it was better if they all went to bed for what was left of the night. That way, they’d be fresh when she dropped her bombshell—and prayed for the best. Besides, the rest of her children needed to be here. She wasn’t about to go through that emotion-wrenching announcement more than once. It needed to be made to everyone at the same time. She felt bad enough that Ellie had accidentally overheard and had borne the weight of knowing her secret alone.
Megan had made up her mind. From now on, no more secrets of any kind, no matter how innocent.
“You all have to be exhausted,” she acknowledged, looking at the others. “Why don’t we postpone any sort of celebration until I can do this up properly?” Her eyes swept over Connor first, then touched everyone in the room one by one until they came to rest on Lacy. The mother of her grandchild.
“Sounds good to me,” Jake murmured. He slung his arm around Camille, his eyes drooping just a shade. “Care to prop up a hero? Help me up to bed and I’ll give you all the details, bit by bit.”
Before Camille could comment, Abby’s beeper went off, pulsing red numbers. Angling it away from her belt, Abby made out the telephone number. It was only vaguely familiar. She made a guess.
“Probably Mrs. Marlow. She looked ready to pop when I saw her in the office yesterday. Twins this time.” Two cups of coffee should give her a second wind, she estimated, sighing. “Another post-midnight delivery. Perfect ending to a perfect day.” On her way to the den and the telephone, Abby stopped long enough to brush a kiss on Connor’s cheek. “Nice work, cousin. Looks like you found the family just in time.”
He wasn’t sure if she was referring to the fact that, in being reunited with the Maitlands, he was able to get the help he needed to recover his son or if there was something else behind her words. All he did know was that the term she’d applied to him was incorrect.
He wasn’t her cousin, he was her half brother.
It was on the tip of his tongue to say something. But it wasn’t up to him to make the correction, he reminded himself. The words, whatever she ultimately chose them to be, belonged to Megan. He knew the circumstances surrounding his birth and his subsequent secretive adoption. He’d only learned them recently himself. Connor couldn’t even imagine what Megan must have gone through, thinking him dead all these years, only to have him turn up now, not her nephew, as she’d believed, but her son. Had to be a lot to deal with. He owed it to her to be the one to let the others know.
Or keep the secret to herself.
He had a lot to deal with himself, he thought, finding out he had a child of his own he hadn’t known about. He supposed in a way that gave him something in common with his birth mother.
It was going to be hard, making the transition. Thinking of Megan Maitland as his mother instead of Clarise O’Hara, the woman who had raised him. The mother he’d buried almost two years ago.
Reaching the foot of the stairs, Connor glanced toward Lacy. Part of him was tempted to remain with her. To say things to her that had occurred to him both before and after he and the others had rescued Chase. But he didn’t want to be hasty. There was a wealth of feelings churning inside him, feelings that had to be sorted out and examined before he did anything about them.
He had learned a long time ago not to say things in the heat of the moment or when he was too exhausted to think clearly. Anything worth saying would keep until morning, when he was more lucid and had the time to think things through. He didn’t want to say things to Lacy he’d only have to take back later, no matter how much he suddenly wanted to say them. She’d been through enough without having him add to her grief.
“Night,” he murmured,