His Daughter...Their Child Page 5

  Because Clay looked so troubled, Celeste regretted telling him about Abby’s play. “I didn’t mean to just throw this at you, but I thought you should know.”

  After a few moments of glancing away, his attention seemingly on the group across the room, he swung back to her. “What did you tell her?” His penetrating study of her face said he wanted the truth.

  “I just suggested she let the daddy put the baby to bed, then we moved on to her pet-shop toys. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, and I certainly had no answers.”

  “I suppose I was naive to think she wouldn’t remember Zoie leaving.”

  “Maybe. Or possibly, she’s heard you and your mom talk. Mikala has often said kids are like sponges, soaking up words and feelings and vibrations that adults can’t even intuit.”

  “You’ve talked to Mikala about this?” He didn’t seem angry, just curious.

  “No, but she and I had a few discussions before I decided to become a surrogate.”

  “I thought Zoie talked you into it.”

  She remembered how her sister had pleaded with her, the lists of reasons why Celeste should do this for all of them. She also remembered Clay’s silence, his refusal to persuade her one way or the other. “I would do almost anything for my sister. But I had to make sure I was doing what I thought was right for all of us. The thing is, I didn’t have all the facts then. You and Zoie kept her affair from me. I didn’t know about that until she sent a long email, telling me the two of you were separating.”

  The sound of raucous laughter came from the group of men. One of the men had turned on a flat-screen TV in the corner to check sports scores. Jenny was helping Martha serve more hors d’oeuvres.

  “I don’t want to discuss this here,” Clay said evenly.

  Celeste had the feeling he didn’t want to discuss it at all. “Your life with Zoie affected me, too, Clay, just as I’m affecting your life now. All of us made choices and some of them are mistakes.”

  “Do you believe being our surrogate was a mistake?”

  “Not when I look at Abby,” she said gently. “Not when I see how much you love her.”

  The conflict in Clay’s eyes shifted to pain, and she wondered what he was thinking. But he’d never confide in her. After all, she’d made sure she’d never been close enough to him for confidences.

  Glancing away from Clay assessing her and her motivation, she spotted Jesse watching her. She didn’t want to seem rude, yet she wasn’t interested in a date. She could sense his interest and knew that’s where a conversation would be headed…unless she told him some facet of the truth.

  “I don’t know how to ask you this,” she said, turning back to Clay.

  “Just ask.”

  “When people want to know why I’ve come back to Miners Bluff and why I’m staying, I’d like to tell them the truth—that I’m here to get to know my daughter. Will that bother you?”

  His mouth tightened into a straight line. “Maybe you could hold off on any declarations of intent. We don’t know where this is going.”

  “I do.”

  “Celeste,” he said, with hoarse frustration. “You’re pushing hard. Give me and Abby a chance to catch our breath.”

  Silas Decker’s booming voice suddenly rang through the room. “Attention everyone. We’re all going to settle into my home theater where we can watch my son’s newest blockbuster. Martha will show you to the buffet and you can enjoy dinner while you watch.”

  “I guess Zack has a new movie,” Celeste mused to break the tension between her and Clay.

  “From what Silas has said, it could be another Oscar winner. Zack has definitely found his niche as a filmmaker. I’m probably going to cut out as soon as it’s over,” Clay said. “I know we still have a lot to discuss. Maybe we should do it on neutral ground.”

  “Such as?”

  “My parents are taking Abby to a children’s play in Flagstaff on Sunday afternoon. How would you like to go hiking with me on Moonshadow Mountain?”

  Celeste’s heart beat fast as she remembered the purple cliffs leading to the peak where the world seemed far away beneath.

  “I promise we’ll take it slow. You might not be used to the altitude yet.”

  His voice had a reassuring quality to it, but she didn’t want reassurance.

  What she wanted was to prove to him she was not her twin.

  Chapter Four

  Celeste’s footsteps were muffled by the soft carpet of pine needles that cut through the forest. Ponderosas stood scattered between Douglas firs along a path that had been carved out decades ago and seemed to renew itself each year.

  As she and Clay climbed out of the shadows into the sun, her boot hit a clump of earth, and stones clattered in the silence.

  Clay turned quickly, ready to lunge to catch her just as he would any tourist he was guiding to the peak. When he saw she was still upright, he smiled and came to her side.

  As he scrutinized her, she adjusted her backpack. “What?” she asked, feeling self-conscious.

  “You haven’t complained once and you’ve kept up the whole way.”

  “I haven’t hiked a lot lately. But soon I’ll be as familiar with this trail as I was when we were in high school.”

  Her open intention to stay unsettled him for a moment. But then he turned the conversation away from the present to the past. “You didn’t have any restrictions when you were in high school, did you?”

  Their mom had worked a lot, from noon to midnight most days. There had never been any discussion about curfews and rules. “I suppose not.”

  “Zoie never cared how late she was out. But you did. You seemed to have your own rules. Why was that?”

  “You think I was too quiet to get into trouble?”

  “Weren’t you?”

  “I didn’t seek out trouble, if that’s what you mean. I didn’t go looking for the adrenaline rush. Even when I came up here, it was to find peace and some sense of myself, not to see how high I could climb or how near I could go to the edge of the cliff. That just wasn’t me.”

  She knew what he was thinking. That was Zoie.

  “But you’re different now?”

  “I do seek thrills once in a while,” she joked, holding back a smile, not taking offense.

  “Like…” he prompted.

  Thrills like falling in love with a pilot and getting her heart stomped on. “Going out on my own in business was an adventure for me. It was a risk, but I took it enthusiastically and didn’t look back.”

  He took off his hat, folded it and stuck it in his waistband. “That wasn’t the first thing that came into your mind, was it?”

  “So now you’re a psychic?”

  “No, but your eyes give away more than you want them to.”

  Did they? Or was she subconsciously trying to send him some kind of message? “Maybe we should find a spot for lunch.”

  “Maybe you’re trying to change the subject and avoiding talking about your romantic past,” he returned quickly with an arched brow.

  She ignored his attempt to probe. “There used to be a clearing over the next rise. It might be a good spot.” It was just below Starfall Point, a guardrailed lookout over the town and valley below, where she and Zoie had often hiked as teenagers. She doubted if she and Clay would hike up there today. Something about Starfall Point was a little too intimate.

  “Have it your way for now, but after we eat maybe you’ll tell me what I want to know.”

  She was afraid to find out what that really was. Maybe today was like an interview, to see how fit she was to spend time with Abby. Today might have nothing to do with their kiss. She shouldn’t be foolish enough to think there was more to it.

  Pines and aspens gave way to a clearing where golden columbine attracted butterflies, where white yarrow seemed to blossom everywhere. This mountain haven hadn’t changed much since she was a teenager. That was comforting in a world that seemed to be spinning under her feet.

  Clay pulled a
thin silver blanket from his backpack and shook it out under the aspens. Along with that he produced two baguettes, a hunk of cheese, beef jerky and two bottles of water. To their feast, Celeste added trail mix Mikala’s aunt had made, along with two bunches of grapes and a ziplock bag of strawberries.

  Clay leaned back on his palms and took a long breath of the fresh air. Celeste watched his face as he took in the view. She hadn’t seen him relaxed since she’d arrived.

  “Do you get much time to just do this, without bringing tourists along?”

  He focused all of his attention on her. His navy T-shirt stretched across his chest. His biceps were defined, the muscles on his forearms obviously strong. Fishing, rafting and rock climbing were as much a part of his usual activities as driving his SUV to a vortex in Sedona or riding a mule down the Grand Canyon.

  “I don’t get out on my own as much as I’d like,” he responded. “Not anymore. But I try to take a couple of days a month. Once in a while I go up to our cabin near the old mine.”

  “Is it still equipped?”

  “With the woodstove and a lot of history. My great-grandfather built it because he had nowhere else to live. The woodstove is new for safety’s sake and we keep a supply of bottled water up there. The root cellar still keeps supplies fresh. There’s an old cot that’s better than the floor, and with a sleeping bag it’s comfortable. The cabin is a great escape. Once in a while, tourists who are brave enough to explore the area around the mine take a peek.” He opened the bag with the cheese, offered it to her, then took a piece himself.

  “The copper mine itself was boarded shut,” Celeste mused, tearing off a piece of a baguette to have with the cheese. “But there are always some sightseers who want to see everything.”

  “We keep it stocked and unlocked. If anyone really needs to use it, well, that’s why my great-grandfather built it.”

  “Do you ever take Abby along?”

  The relaxed look fell away from Clay. He sat up, cross-legged and picked up a strip of beef jerky. “I haven’t yet. We explore around the house when we go on walks.”

  “I’d bring her here,” Celeste said, watching Clay as he ate, remembering everything about their kiss. “It’s a beautiful place. Abby could learn about the trees and the kinds of flowers that grow here. She might even see an elk or a rabbit or a ram if she’s lucky.”

  “I don’t want her to be frightened.”

  “If you’re here to explain everything to her, she won’t be frightened.”

  “She’s already having bad dreams. I don’t want to feed them.”

  “Clay, how can hiking up the mountain with her feed spooky dreams? This is beauty, sunshine and joy. I think Abby would love it.”

  “She’s only three and a half. How old were you when you first came up here?”

  “Believe it or not, my mother brought me and Zoie up here when we were about five. The history of Miners Bluff was her history, too. The Tin Pan Tavern, where she worked, had been around almost since the first claims were staked. But more than that, she needed an escape, too. She just warned us never to come up here alone.”

  “But you did.”

  “I first hiked up here alone when I was fourteen.” Celeste remembered the day well. “Zoie had become a cheerleader and had a new group of friends. She wanted to include me but I could tell they didn’t want me around. So she left school with them to go to the gym to practice and I headed up here.”

  “Were you scared?”

  “I was defiant and I was determined to hike to Starfall Point on my own and get back before my mother missed me.”

  “Did you?”

  “I did. That first hike taught me self-reliance. I learned I could be a person on my own, outside of Zoie…that we didn’t have to be interested in the same things.”

  “Had you been before then?”

  “Before she became interested in cheerleading, we did everything together. Mom was always working and we took care of each other.”

  “You took care of Zoie, or Zoie took care of you?” he asked perceptively, cutting through any diplomatic answer she might give.

  “I guess I took care of her and she entertained me. We were partners in growing up. I knew we had different talents. We banded together because Mom worked so much, because in our bedroom alone at night, we heard the sound of men’s laughter underneath our feet and we were scared together.” Now why had she told him that? Had Zoie ever discussed formative memories with him?

  Clay forgot his food, interested in a way that told her this was the first he was hearing any of this. “Did anything ever happen to the two of you because of the bar?”

  She and Zoie never talked about their childhoods, the way they lived, getting meals on their own when they were still young, pretty much taking care of themselves. She could just brush off Clay’s question, but if she did, he’d probably know she wasn’t being completely truthful.

  So she answered, “Almost. Once. Mom was always super careful to keep the door locked that led up the stairway to our rooms. But our bedroom didn’t have a lock. One night, I guess she didn’t secure the downstairs door. A customer wandered up and came into our bedroom. Zoie screamed and I got the broom from the closet. I think he was as scared as we were. He ran out of there faster than he came in, practically falling down the stairs. Zoie and I went to the hardware store the next day and found a doorknob with a lock. Old Mr. Kenner told us exactly how to put it on and lent us the tools to do it. We paid for the lock out of our lunch fund.”

  “Lunch fund?”

  “Zoie and I would often share one lunch so we could save the money from the second.”

  “Celeste!” His tone was aghast. “I knew you didn’t live under the best of circumstances, but living like that—no child should live in fear or eat just half a lunch.” Clay was quiet for a few moments. “Maybe that’s why Zoie always wanted to go to such expensive restaurants.”

  “Trying to wipe away bad memories? It’s possible. But Zoie likes to experience new and different things on a regular basis. You know that.”

  When she saw an angry look on his face, she quickly said, “Oh, Clay, I didn’t mean—”

  “Let’s face it, Celeste. That’s true. That’s why she had the affair.”

  “I don’t think she just wanted someone different.” They had never talked about this.

  “I don’t want to get into it,” Clay muttered.

  Maybe they should. Maybe they had to.

  Zoie and Clay had been a couple their senior year in high school. The four years Clay attended the University of Northern Arizona in Flagstaff, she’d waitressed at an upscale restaurant there. With a double major in finance and environmental sciences, Clay had often been closeted in the library or out on assignment, studying area specimens. With her own circle of friends, Zoie hadn’t seemed to mind. Her letters had been full of social activities and plans for her engagement and marriage to Clay after he graduated. But then not long into their marriage, she’d complained to Celeste about Clay choosing to start a guiding service rather than staying in banking. Before their fifth anniversary, she’d had an affair, been in an accident on her way to meet her lover and had injuries so serious the surgeon had performed a partial hysterectomy. Celeste hadn’t known until her sister left Clay that she’d been unfaithful and had used Celeste’s surrogacy and Abby to try to hold her marriage together—a plan that had failed abysmally.

  Celeste didn’t feel she could push Clay on too many levels right now, not and manage visitation rights with Abby.

  But she did need answers. “I need to know something, Clay.”

  “What is it?” He sat forward, watching her and listening.

  She took a strawberry, popped it into her mouth, slowly chewed and swallowed, maybe trying to buy some time. When she glanced up at him again, his gaze was on her lips. She crooked her legs underneath her, but didn’t lean any closer to him. He seemed to be dripping male energy today. He tangled her insides and sent shivers up her arms.
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br />   “When Zoie asked me to be her surrogate, was your marriage solid again?”

  His lips tightened, and she could see the pulse beat at his temple. Then he said in a measured tone, “I thought we were on solid ground. We’d gone to counseling for a year before she asked you. After the divorce, I went over every one of those sessions and what she said, looking for hidden meanings. But the only thing I found was my inability to see through what she was doing.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “When Zoie decided she wanted something, she went after it full throttle. After the accident and her partial hysterectomy, I’m not sure of the process that ticked through her head. I don’t know if she felt she’d changed as a woman. I don’t know what her motives were. But I know when we were in that counselor’s office, she gave all the right answers. They seemed heartfelt at the time. Maybe she was lying to both of us. We had years invested in our marriage and I truly thought that was as important to her as it was to me. In that counselor’s office, she made it seem as if it was. When we talked about having a child, I thought we were on solid ground again.”

  “I could feel Zoie’s restlessness,” Celeste told him. “I thought it was because she wanted to have a baby so badly. I should have known there was more to it. She’s not the nurturing type.”

  “Are you?” he asked, reaching out and brushing a strand of hair the breeze had caught away from Celeste’s cheek.

  She could feel the calluses on the pads of his fingers and her whole body quivered. Somehow she found her voice. “I believe I am.”

  But was she nurturing enough? If she was, why had Peter had an affair with a flight attendant while he was in Italy? On top of that, why hadn’t he used protection with his lover? Why had he so easily accepted responsibility for their unborn child and moved to Naples? Had he used her until the “right” woman came along?