His-and-Hers Family. Helen Lacey

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СКАЧАТЬ widow was his right arm, sometimes his conscience and often his sounding board.

      “Your flight is booked for tomorrow morning,” she told him. “You are still coming back tomorrow, aren’t you?”

      “I’m not sure.”

      She made a disagreeable sound. “And Miss Walsh?”

      “I’ve made contact. We’ll see what happens.” He wasn’t about to admit he might have screwed up.

      “Just be careful,” she warned. “Sleeping dogs sleep for a good reason. Sometimes the past is best left where it is.”

      “It’s what Cecily wants,” he said and ended the call, feeling the weight of his promise to Cecily press between his shoulder blades.

      When his niece had asked him to find her birth mother, Wyatt hadn’t been surprised and he had understood her motives. Cecily wanted answers. Now that he’d met Fiona Walsh, Wyatt was intrigued and wanted some answers, too. He knew she was a teacher and had lived in Crystal Point for five years. Before that there had been a series of jobs at various schools, none lasting more than six months. She appeared to go from one small town to the next, never settling until now. What made Crystal Point different? Did she have roots in the small community? From the investigation he’d undertaken, Wyatt knew there were no relatives, only a great-uncle who’d passed away twelve months earlier and left her a modest inheritance after the sale of his property out west. There were no parents. No siblings. Not even a distant cousin she could claim as family.

      Fiona Walsh seemed to be as alone as a person could possibly get.

      She wasn’t married … but maybe she had a boyfriend? She was as pretty as hell, after all. Her hair was an amazing color, not red, not blond but an unusual mix of both. In more normal circumstances, Wyatt would probably have been attracted to her.

       Whoa … where did that come from?

      He was here on Cecily’s behalf. The kid had been through enough over the past eighteen months. Now she wanted to find her birth mother, and it was Wyatt’s job to help her. He wasn’t about to get caught up in Fiona’s lovely blue-gray eyes. He wasn’t about to rush into getting caught up with anyone, not after the disastrous end to his engagement eighteen months earlier. Yvette’s betrayal had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

      He knew he had to see Fiona again. He had to make her listen.

      His cell rang and he picked up on the third ring. “Wyatt Harper.”

      “I’ll meet you in half an hour.”

      Her husky voice was unmistakable. She’d called. Maybe he hadn’t screwed up after all? “Great. Shall I come to you?”

      “No,” she said quickly. “I’ll come to you.”

      Wyatt gave her the name of the hotel.

      “Okay,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the foyer at five o’clock.” Then she hung up.

      Fiona’s drive into Bellandale took twenty minutes. The town was four hours north of Brisbane and had a population of sixty thousand. The streets were typically quiet for a Sunday afternoon, and she scored a parking spot outside the hotel. With her nerves severely stretched, she walked through the front doors and into the lobby.

      There was no sign of him. She checked her watch. Three minutes to five.

      Fiona ignored the concierge and headed for the lounge area in the centre of the lobby. There was a bar close by, and a waiter immediately approached to take her order. She declined and sank into one of the leather sofas. The foyer was eerily quiet, except for the faint sound of piped music and the occasion click of heels over the polished floor.

      “Hello, Fiona.”

      She snapped her neck around. Wyatt Harper had approached and stood only feet away. Fiona did her best to overlook the way her traitorous belly flipped over. Okay … so he was good-looking and possessed the kind of body that was hard to ignore in his dark chinos and a white polo shirt. And he had great hair and glittering blue eyes. Big deal. The world was full of gorgeous men. And because this one had just dropped a bombshell into her organized little life, Fiona had every intention of ignoring the way her blood heated when he was within a six-foot radius.

      “Hello.”

      He looked at her oddly and the heat intensified. Fiona pushed her hair back with shaking fingers, suddenly nervous of his scrutiny. Something flashed in his eyes. Approval? Disapproval? Did she look as if she was trying too hard with her sensible denim skirt, modest print blouse and even more sensible sandals? Maybe she should have put her hair up instead of letting it curl madly around her head? She bit at her lower lip to get rid of the lipstick she’d dabbed on.

      “Thank you for coming,” he said.

      Fiona noticed the narrow black folder he carried. “I don’t see the point in hiding from the truth.”

      He nodded, sat down opposite her and placed the folder on the low table between them. “So you acknowledge that you’re Cecily’s birth mother?”

      Fiona inhaled. “I admit that I had a child fourteen years ago.” She pointed to the folder. “You seem to have all the evidence that she’s the baby I gave up for adoption.”

      “I do have proof,” he said quietly. “Although one look at Cecily would be enough to convince you.” He pushed himself back in the lounge. “She looks just like you. Same hair. Same chin. Same …” He looked at her mouth for a moment and Fiona’s skin warmed. “Same color eyes.”

      She managed a brittle smile and twirled a lock of hair between her fingertips. “Poor kid got stuck with this color.”

      He watched her actions with blistering intensity. “She’s very pretty.”

      Fiona’s heart began to beat a little faster. She drew in a breath and asked the question that burned on the end of her tongue. “What does she know about me?”

      Wyatt Harper’s eyes darkened fractionally. “She knows you were young when you had her. Cecily has always known she was adopted. My sister Karen and her husband, Jim, were open with her from an early age and supported her decision to find her birth mother when she was ready.”

      “And she’s ready now—is that what you’re saying?”

      He nodded. “She began talking about finding you nearly two years ago. Karen and Jim planned to start searching but …” He stopped and took a moment. When he spoke again, Fiona heard rawness in his voice. “They were killed eighteen months ago.”

      Emotion she didn’t understand clutched her throat. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “How did it happen?”

      “They were rock fishing,” he replied. “They got swept off a rock shelf. It was a crazy accident. They were mad for a dangerous sport and paid the price. When they died, that left Cecily—”

      “Alone,” Fiona said quickly and covered her mouth when she realized how it sounded.

      “No, not alone,” Wyatt told her pointedly. “She has her family. I was going to say that it left her with a lot to deal with. She handled it pretty СКАЧАТЬ