Page 31 of Point of Mercy

She couldn’t help herself. With a smack that resounded to the dusty rafters, she slapped him hard across his dirty face. He caught her wrist, and the ugly horse in the stall snorted and stamped impatiently. “It wouldn’t be wise to get physical with me, lady,” he warned, the tension in the barn snapping as with the current of an electric storm.

But Heather barely heard his warning. She yanked back her hand and glared at him. “You weren’t interested in commitments, Turner, remember? You didn’t want a family. No strings to tie you down. You were too busy chasing cows and riding bucking horses and being a loner to think about…about…”

“About the fact that I had a kid? How the hell would I know?”

“You didn’t stick around long enough to find out, did you?” she accused. Her fury suddenly grew to a living, breathing beast that roared within her. All her pent-up rage exploded. “You don’t think I wanted to tell you? I tried, Turner. But you were gone.”

“Seems to me you found yourself a patsy.”

“A patsy? All I wanted was a father for my child! A man who would care for him, a man whowantedhim—”

“All you wanted was a rich man, Heather. That’s all you’ve ever wanted. I knew it then and I know it now. But I’m warning you, if you’re lyin’ to me—”

“I’m not. Adam’s your son,” she said flatly. “And believe me, if I could change that, I would.”

For the first time, he actually seemed to see past his anger. A vein ticked in his forehead and sweat drizzled down his neck. “And why, after six years, do you want to see me now?”

Her stomach knotted with the pain of the truth. “Adam’s sick, Turner,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

His spine went rigid and his eyes turned black as night. “Sick?”

“He has leukemia,” she said, deciding that it was now or never. She saw the fear flare in his eyes. “The disease…it’s in remission. He’s been through hell fighting it, but the drugs have seemed to work. Now the doctor is talking about a possible bone-marrow transplant. But Adam has no siblings and…well, I don’t match. Even though it’s a slim chance, I was hoping… I thought that you might…” She threw her hands up toward the rafters and tears filled her eyes.“Oh, Turner,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she thought about losing Adam. “I wouldn’t have come, but you’re Adam’s best hope.”

“IfI’m his father,” he said coldly.

“You are, damn it! Do you honestly think I would’ve wasted my time driving up here, dredging up everything again?” Blinking rapidly, she fingered the clasp of her purse. “I’ve got a picture—”

“I’ll need more proof than that.”

“Anything,” she whispered, glad that at least they were making headway.

Turner’s gaze shifted around the barn quickly, as if he were sizing up his own operation. Nervously, he rubbed the top rail of the stall. “They have tests now—genetic tests that would prove without a doubt—”

“Iknowthat, Turner. That’s why you should trust me. If I’m lying, I’ll be found out. But I’m not. Believe me, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

That stopped him. His fidgeting hands quit moving. “Does your husband know?”

“Of course myex-husband knows. He knew I was pregnant when we got married. I told him about you.” She thought fleetingly of Dennis, of his reaction when she’d first told him she was pregnant with another man’s child. He’d been angry, even wounded, and he’d left her mother’s house with a screech of tires. But he had come back. Swearing that he loved her. Vowing to look after her and the baby. Promising to give the infant everything it could ever want. And she’d stupidly believed Dennis Leonetti, a man obsessed with her. It all seemed like such a long time ago. And now, staring at Turner,she wondered how she’d ever let the world think that Adam had been Dennis’s son.

Turner’s jaw tightened, and before he could say anything hateful, she said, “I didn’t really know that I was pregnant until you were gone. Then I tried to contact you…but it was impossible. I called the Lazy K. Zeke wouldn’t say where you were and for once Mazie kept her mouth shut. Even the other ranch hands played dumb.”

“So you married Leonetti,” he said, his voice cold as stone.

Why bother explaining? He’d set himself up as judge and jury, tried her and found her guilty. But she couldn’t expect much more, she supposed. She dug into her purse, found the picture of Adam and held it out to him. “This…this is our son,” she said.

Turner swept the snapshot out of her fingers, and in the half-light within the barn, he squinted at it. His eyebrows knotted in concentration.

Can’t you see it, Turner? Doesn’t the resemblance leap out at you? He has the same straight, light brown hair, the same gray eyes, the same little cleft in his chin? Oh, God, Turner, he’s yours!

A dozen emotions flickered in Turner’s eyes. Emotions that were dark and dangerous. His voice, when he spoke, was thick. “How do you know?” he asked, and though she’d been prepared for the question, it startled her.

“I was a virgin, remember? You were the first. The only.”

His mouth tightened. He remembered all right. Everything about her. Loving any other woman had never felt so right.Even now, in her expensive clothes and soft leather shoes, she was as attractive to him as she had been as a girl in cutoff jeans and halter tops. “There could have been others.”

Her steady blue eyes held his. “There weren’t.”

“How do I know—”

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