Page 33 of Point of Mercy

“He will.”

She licked her lips and glanced anxiously around the run-down old barn. “But he can’t stay here alone.”

“I’ll be here.”

“I know, but he’d be frightened. He doesn’t even know you!”

“Whose fault is that?”

“We’re not talking about laying blame, Turner. We’re talking about my son’s well-being!”

“You’re not going to bring up some damned nanny to this ranch,” he warned, and watched as she squared her shoulders.

“No, Turner, I’m not. But if Adam stays here, so do I.”

He started to argue. Hell, the last thing he wanted here was Heather Tremont Leonetti.She’d be in the way. She’d be a distraction. She’d interfere with him getting to know the boy, always overplaying the part of the mother. But he could see by the set of her small jaw that it was all or nothing, and he wasn’t enough of a bastard to barter with the boy’s health. No way could he say that he’d only agree to the tests if the kid would be allowed to come here alone. A son! He had a son. The very thought knocked the breath out of his lungs. He noticed her watching him and rubbed a hand over his chin.

“All right, lady, you’ve got yourself a bargain,” he said, letting a slow, lazy grin drift across his face. Deliberately, he let his gaze rest for a long moment on the hollow of her throat. “But it’s not going to be easy.”

“With you, nothing is,” she said, not backing down an inch. He approached her and she didn’t move; in fact her eyes widened and she parted her lips ever so slightly. If he didn’t know better, if he didn’t still feel the sting of her hand against his cheek, he’d swear she was coming on to him. But that was crazy, or was it?

The look she sent him fairly sizzled. “I’ll call and set up an appointment with the doctor and the hospital,” she said, and impulsively he touched her arm.

“I think we should talk some more.”

She paused just a second, as if deliberating. “I don’t see what good that would do.”

“Give me a break, Heather. It’s been six years. I think we have a lot to discuss.”

“I—I don’t know—”

“We’ll call a truce. Temporarily at least. There’s a lot I want to know.” The fingers curling over her forearm tightened and she stared deep into his eyes. “Youoweme this much.”

Quickly, she yanked her arm away. “Let’s get something straight, Turner. I don’toweyou anything. But I know that you have a lot of questions. I—I’ll be back later. Right now, I’ve got to go into town and talk to my mom. Good enough?”

“I guess it’ll have to be.”

“What time?”

“I’ll be through with my chores around seven.”

“I’ll be back at seven-thirty.” With that, she was gone. In a cloud of tantalizing perfume, she stormed away, never even looking down at her blouse where the dirt from his fingertips still stained the silken fabric.

She’d gotten tougher over the years as well as more sophisticated. To Turner’s mind, she was more deadly than before, because now, unless she was lying through her beautiful teeth, she had his son!

* * *

Heather squinted throughthe dust that collected on the windshield. Badlands Ranch was located to the northwest of Gold Creek, and the main road leading back to the town was a narrow ribbon of asphalt that wound around the western shore of Whitefire Lake. Through the trees, Heather caught glimpses of the water, now blue and pristine, unlike the white misty lake from which she’d taken a long sip this morning. It had been a foolish ritual, and now, if she hadn’t felt so desperate, she would have laughed at herself. But she could barely concentrate on anything except Turner and the fact that he wanted to make love to her again. She’d seen it in his eyes—the passion rising to the surface. And he’d even tried in a crude way to suggest that they could make it happen again.He’d been bluffing at that point, trying to force her out of his life by proving he wasn’t the kind of man she wanted.

But he hadn’t known how desperate she was. And he hadn’t known that this would have been the perfect time to make love to him. And he hadn’t known that should she make love to him and become pregnant with his child, she would be giving their only child another chance for survival. But she hadn’t been able to do it. She couldn’t deceive him so coldly, nor could she plan to conceive one child just to save the life of another.

Or could she?

She’d always wanted another baby. The fact that Dennis had been unable to father children had been a big disappointment for them both. And the thought of giving birth to another son or daughter with Turner as the father touched her in a romantic way that bordered on lunacy. Just because Adam had turned out so well was no reason to think that another child would fit into the life she’d carved out with her son.

But a sibling could save his life. Every doctor she’d talked to had stressed that donors for bone marrow are usually a brother or sister of the recipient. The more siblings a recipient had, the better the chance for a match. Already she knew that she couldn’t help her son; there was a strong chance Turner couldn’t, either. But a sibling…

The thought turned her stomach. She wouldn’t,couldn’t,even think about another pregnancy, another child.

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