Page 63 of Point of Mercy

“What’s going on?” she asked, as Turner shoved open the door and the dog followed him into the kitchen.

“You tell me.”

“Fred left…and this dog…?”

“For Adam.” He glared at her then, and her throat closed in upon itself, for the hatred that glittered in his gunmetal eyes was unmistakable. “Every kid needs a dog.”

“Something’s wrong…” The temperature in the cozy kitchen had seemed to plummet and Heather’s stomach turned sour. She dropped her rolling pin and wiped her flour-dusted hands on a towel. “What is it, Turner?” she asked, her mind racing before landing upon the answer. There could only be one reason for the anger seething from him.

He knew. Somehow he knew about the baby. And rather than the happiness she’d expected he would feel, his emotions had turned the other direction until he was in a black rage.

“What, Heather?” he said, striding over to her and glaring down at her with condemning eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I…”

“Spit it out, woman. You’re pregnant.”

She felt like a Judas. All the happiness she’d felt just moments before melted away. “Yes, but I just found out—”

“Like hell! How come half the town already knows?”

“It couldn’t… I mean I just took the test this morning…” she said, as her words faded, for she understood what had happened. This town. This bloody small town! When she’d bought the pregnancy detection kit, someone at the drugstore had put two and two together, and though most clerks weren’t supposed to discuss their customer’s purchases, someone had. The clerk at the drugstore, or Scott McDonald, or even Thelma Surrett, must have seen her and started speculating.

Heather’s insides churned. Her hands shook.

“The whole damned town knows I’m gonna be a father before I do,” he spat out, kicking the wall. The puppy, nervous already, slithered to a hiding spot beneath the table and cowered against the wall, whining pitifully. “Hell, Heather, didn’t you think I might want to know?”

“I was going to tell you—”

He grabbed her then, his grip on her arms punishing, the fierce fire in his eyes reminding her of the very devil himself. “When?”

“As soon as I—”

“When we were married? Or before? You know, I’ve heard of a lot of low-down, despicable things to do, but to get pregnant, plan it all out, just to make sure you had a donor—”

“What are you talking about?”

His voice was as cold as a bottomless well. “Don’t pretend, Heather. It belittles us both.”

“What the devil are you talking about?” she demanded, but back in the darkest corner of her mind, she knew, and, God help her, some of those very thoughts had been with her. Hadn’t she once considered making love to him just to create a child so like Adam that the baby might be able to eventually become a bone-marrow donor? But that would never have been the sole reason. No. She’d wanted another child for years. Her thoughts must’ve reflected in her eyes,because he let go of her then and his lips curled in disgust. “I don’t like being used, Heather. Not for any reason.”

“I didn’t use you,” she protested.

“Like hell! I was a stud. Nothing more.”

She felt as if he’d hit her hard in the stomach. “Oh, Turner, you can’t believe—”

“Do you deny that you thought about this? That you hoped we could start a new child? A sibling for Adam? A damneddonor?”

“Oh, God,” she whispered, as the color drained from her body and she had to hold on to the counter for support.

“I just find it hard to believe that I fell for it.”

“You didn’t fall for anything—”

“Don’t lie to me, woman!”

Something inside her snapped, and her temper exploded. “I’m not lying, Turner, and I shouldn’t have to remind you that this baby wasn’t created by me alone! You were there and, I might add, enjoyed doing your part!”

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