Of course Liz could be completely fooling herself. There was the possibility she was blinded by a scholarship, a few kind words and the feel of Ethan’s arms around her. Clarity would come with time, she told herself. She didn’t have to tell anyone she was having second thoughts about leaving.

An unfamiliar sedan pulled up to the curb and an older man in a suit got out. He stared at her a moment, shrugged, then reached for something in his car.

“Morning,” he said as he approached, an envelope in his hand. “You’re up early.”

She smiled. “It’s the only time it’s quiet.”

“I hear you.” He hesitated. “My workday starts in a couple hours. I was on my way to Starbucks. They’ve got me hooked on their lattes. Can’t get going in the morning without one.”

She rose and moved to the gate. While the conversation was pleasant enough, she felt uneasy with the man’s presence.

“Can I help you with something?”

The old man nodded slowly. “I would have come back later, but seeing as you’re already up… Elizabeth Marie Sutton?”

How did he know her name?

She felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck.

He held out the envelope, then waited until she took it. “You’ve been served.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“YOU SLIMY, WEASELLY, disgusting bastard,” Liz yelled the second Ethan stepped into his office building.

Ethan came to a stop and stared at her cautiously. Liz looked ferocious, which wasn’t good, but he had a feeling he knew why.

She stood by the reception desk. It was still early enough that most of the staff hadn’t arrived. Nevada’s truck was in the parking lot, but his sister was nowhere to be seen. She normally arrived around six-thirty. Today hadn’t been an exception. The only difference appeared to be that she’d let Liz in to wait for him.

“I should have known,” Liz continued, her green eyes flashing a level of rage powerful enough to melt steel. “You say one thing to my face and go behind my back. And here I stand. Surprised. Which makes me an idiot. Well, I’m done being stupid where you’re concerned. Know this—I will never trust you again. Ever. Do you hear me? I hope you rot in hell. I hope there’s a special place there just for you.”

She picked up the message pad from the reception desk and threw it at him. He sidestepped the missile easily. When she reached for the computer flat screen, he grabbed her arm.

“Stop.”

“I won’t.” She wrenched free and glared at him. “There’s no excuse for what you did.”

The envelope was in her hand.

He wrestled with regret, then reminded himself that she hadn’t given him a choice. “They weren’t supposed to serve you until this afternoon. I was going to come tell you myself. This morning.”

“Oh, please. Let’s not even pretend that’s true. You’ve always been a coward and a liar. That hasn’t changed.”

He grabbed her arm again and this time didn’t let go. “I was going to tell you. I started to explain yesterday.”

If her gaze had had laser power, he would be a small stain on the rug right now.

“That’s so much bullshit,” she snapped. “And here I am wearing sandals.”

She tried to pull free, but he didn’t let her go. “Liz, calm down. We have to talk.”

She continued to tug. Afraid he would bruise her, he finally let her go. She staggered back a step.

“I was going to tell you,” he repeated.

He read the betrayal in her eyes, the hint of pain. “Liar,” she echoed, then waved the envelope. “If this is how you want to play it, then fine. Because I know some damn good lawyers.”

“I’d hoped we could work it out ourselves.”

“You’re the one who went to court, Ethan.”

He had. He’d seen a family court judge and asked for an injunction. One that forbade Liz from leaving Fool’s Gold with Tyler.

“I didn’t know how else to stop you from taking Tyler away,” he explained.

“I have a right to a life,” she said, rubbing her arm. “That life is in San Francisco.”

“You can explain that to the judge next week.”

“I will. I also plan to tell her that I made two efforts to tell you about Tyler and that the only reason you don’t already have a relationship with him is your late wife kept the information from you. So don’t think you’ll make me the bad guy in all this.”

“You were going to leave,” he reminded her, doing his best to hold his temper. It wouldn’t help anyone if they both got mad. “You didn’t give me a choice in the matter. You just said that I could have alternating weekends. As if that was enough.”

She stared at him. “Is that what this is about? You want more time? Then why didn’t you come to me and say that? Why involve a judge?”

“Because I’ve already lost too much time as it is. I’m not losing any more. You could walk away tomorrow and I couldn’t stop you. Now I can.”

“There were a lot of ways to guarantee my cooperation. This isn’t one of them.”

“The person I care about here is Tyler.”

“And you think I don’t?” she demanded. “You think I haven’t spent the last eleven years lying awake at night, worrying about him, doing what I think is best? Do you think it was easy to come back here five years ago to tell you about him? Do you think it was pleasant talking to Rayanne, listening to her judge me for having had your baby? Do you think I liked her calling me a whore?”

His gut clenched. He wanted to say that Rayanne wouldn’t have done that, only he knew better. She would have said that and more. Liz would have represented everything she’d both hated and wanted. Beauty, brains, determination.

He wanted the past to be different but the truth is his relationship with Rayanne had been a mistake. He’d been bored, she’d been pursuing him and if she hadn’t gotten pregnant—probably on purpose—he would have broken things off sooner rather than later.

But she had gotten pregnant and he’d accepted the responsibility. The way he would have done with Liz.

“I would have married you,” he said softly.

Words he’d expected to make things better. Instead the fury returned. “Yes, I know. Despite having denied even knowing me, let alone swearing you were in love with me, you would have been noble and married the slut you’d knocked up. Lucky me. I could have been your wife. What a thrill to spend my life wondering what horrible things you were saying about me. We could have had T-shirts made. ‘I didn’t want to marry her. I don’t even like her.’ That would have been great.”

“Dammit, Liz, I said I was sorry. I was young and stupid. Or does the absolution only go one way? I’m supposed to get over your halfhearted attempt to tell me about Tyler when you were first pregnant. That’s fine, because hey, you tried. But my screw up is unforgivable? Want to test your theory in the general public? Or before the judge?”

She raised her hand, as if to hit him. He grabbed her wrist.

They were both breathing hard, glaring fiercely at each other. There was no softness in her expression. No affection, no passion. He’d paid a high price to keep her from leaving. He knew that.

“Tyler is my son,” he said, releasing her. “I’ve already lost most of his childhood. I’m not willing to lose any more. I protect what’s mine.”

“Selectively,” she corrected, lowering her arm and walking to the door. “You’ll protect what’s yours selectively. Let’s not forget that.”

She walked out. The door slammed behind her.

Ethan stood in the foyer, his fists clenching and unclenching. Helplessness washed through him, which only infuriated him more.

Liz made him crazy—more than any other woman he knew. She had the ability to make him see the worst in himself—and to want to fix it. She was maddening and difficult and, he had to admit, maybe she was right.

An office door opened and Nevada stepped out into the main room. His sister, dressed in jeans and a work shirt, as always, her boots worn and practical, stared at him.

“You’re beyond stupid,” she said. “You know that, right?”

“I had to stop her from leaving.”

“I understand, but jeez, Ethan. There were a lot better ways to go about it. You should have at least warned her.”

“I was going to.”

“Famous last words.” She walked over to him. “I was younger than both you and Liz, but even I heard talk about her. People said ugly things about her mom and assumed they were true about her, too. She grew up with that, every single day.”

He didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to know he might have gone too far. “She would have taken Tyler from me.”

“So you’d rather be right than win?” Nevada asked. “You’re smarter than that. There’s too much at stake here. You’ve just made Liz your enemy. Is that what you want?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“What happened to sitting down and talking?”

“Not something Liz and I can do.” The one evening they’d tried, they’d ended up making love in the kitchen. While he would enjoy repeating the experience, it didn’t accomplish anything. “This solves the problem.”

“If you believe that, you’re even more stupid than I thought. Do you get what Liz is going through? Being back in town can’t be easy. You know how people speak their minds. She’s at the receiving end of a lot of criticism. Liz doesn’t have anyone on her side. Okay— Montana likes her, but is one friend enough? You’re her son’s father. She should be able to trust you and she can’t. No wonder she wants to leave. You’re lucky she didn’t kick you in the balls first. I would have.”

“I love you, too, sis,” he said sarcastically.

She gave him that pitying look that always made him uncomfortable. “You don’t get it and because of that, you’re going to lose.”

“What don’t I get?”

“I know what Dad used to tell you. We all heard the lectures about what it meant to be a Hendrix. How we had to protect the family name. You got it more than all the rest of us put together. You’re the oldest. You would have done anything for him. You gave up your life to take over the family business when he died.” She touched his arm.

“Dad was wrong, Ethan. There are more important things than the family name and reputation. There are the people we love. There’s doing what your heart tells you is right.”

“I’m not in love with Liz.”

“No, but back then, you were supposed to be. Doing what’s right isn’t supposed to hurt someone you care about.”

LIZ SPENT THE MORNING WEEDING. The alternative was breaking every plate in the house, as a way to vent her temper. While the theory was great, she wasn’t sure it was especially smart, considering not only would she have to replace all the dishes, she would also be the one cleaning up the mess.

As she dug and hacked in the garden, she did her best to look at the situation from Ethan’s point of view. An attempt that still made her want to punch him really hard.

What she would agree on—not that she was going to tell him anytime soon—was that if she expected him to let the past go, she would have to do the same. Yes, he’d been horrible to her nearly twelve years before, but she’d been worse. She’d made a halfhearted attempt to tell him about her pregnancy, then had disappeared for six years. Not exactly a mature decision.

But an injunction?

By eleven she was hot and sweaty and ready to let go of her fury, if only to get into the cool house. She waited until the construction crew left for lunch, then showered quickly and worked until about three. Then she gathered the ingredients for cookies, cranked up the CD player and danced along to the Black Eyed Peas until the kids got home.

“Mo-om!” Tyler said when he walked into the kitchen with Melissa and Abby. He sounded both horrified and confused. “What are you doing?”

“Making cookies. I’ve already made some oatmeal raisin. Now I’m moving on to peanut butter.”

Tyler wrinkled his nose. “I meant the other part.”

“The dancing?” she asked with a laugh and turned the player up even louder. “It’s fun.”

She reached for Abby who took her hand and began to move her hips. Melissa surprised her by spinning around, then waving her arms in time with the music. Soon even Tyler joined in and they were all dancing around the kitchen.

Liz showed them how to form a conga line and they were weaving through the downstairs, bumping into the sofa and yelling the words to the song.

She broke free of the line and spun in a circle as the song ended. Abby and Tyler flopped onto the sofa, both giggling. But Melissa stood still, her face etched with sadness.

“What’s wrong?” Liz asked.

“My mom used to dance with me,” the teen said. “My real mom. Not Bettina.” She gave a smile that faded quickly. “I don’t remember very much about her.”

“You remember her in your heart,” Liz said. “That’s what’s important.”

“I guess.”

Abby stood and sighed. “I don’t remember her at all.”

Liz moved to her and touched her cheek. “That’s okay. I’m sure she understands and loves you very much.”

“From heaven?”

Liz nodded. Now wasn’t the time to get involved in a “life after death” discussion.