Her Sister's Secret Son

“Then you find out!” Ira’s face contorted with fury. “All these years, I saved Stones End for you…for you, and your sons. If that boy is a Carlisle, he belongs here.”

Jared weighed each word. “What about the aunt?”

Ira dismissed Rachel. “Deal with her. If he’s yours, she has no right to keep the boy from you. Besides, she’s done her duty by the boy—she’ll probably be relieved to be set free.”

Somehow, Jared didn’t think Rachel would be relieved. From what he’d seen, she was devoted to Dylan. But Ira hadn’t seen that. Even if he did, would he care? Sometimes Jared worried about growing old and alone, but most of all he worried about growing hard…like his father. “I’ll look into it.”

Ira bent just enough to grunt, “Good.”

Jared bit back a comment. His father probably thought he’d won. Somehow, that didn’t feel so bad. Like this harsh northern land that produced him, Ira Carlisle was still a force to be reckoned with; but just then, Jared saw only a tired old man. He deeply regretted causing his father any pain.

In heavy silence, Ira walked toward the house. He climbed the porch steps and went inside.

Jared watched him go, worried about all the upheaval this would cause. He let his gaze wander over the emerald green fields and distant hills. The beauty of Stones End hurt his eyes and burdened his heart. Years ago, he’d left, weighed down by lies and half-truths—lies his father had told him about his mother—that she’d left and never asked to see Jessie and Jared again.

Eventually, Jared had hired a detective and learned she’d died in a charity hospital. But the trail didn’t end there. There was a mother’s ring with three stones. Three. He’d found a photo among his mother’s things. It showed a small child with fair hair. Her flowered dress looked too big, a pink ribbon drooped in her hair, but nothing dimmed her smile. She looked like Jessie…but in the background, there were palm trees instead of Maine’s native pine.

On the back of the snapshot was one word—Olivia.

He had another sister. He couldn’t rest until he found her. The detective was still working on the case and claimed they were close. But Jared’s recent trip to trace down another lead had come to nothing.

And now, there was Dylan.

Finding Olivia would have to be put off until Jared took care of matters closer to home.

Just then, Jared had to get back to work; but later that evening, he walked over to Jessie’s house. Made out of log beams and glass, it stood in a clearing by the pond.

It was a summer house, which meant Jessie and her family would be leaving when the leaves turned. Ben Harding owned and operated a horse farm in Virginia—a lucrative enterprise if the size of this house was any sign. Jared found Ben and Jessie on the front porch, rocking, as they sipped iced tea.

At her feet, Jessie’s dog, Bandit, lifted his head at Jared’s arrival, then settled down again.

“Evening.” Jared smiled at Jessie, then nodded toward the man she’d married. He wasn’t sure what he thought of Ben—a hard battle-scarred man. “Where’s the little guy?”

“Asleep,” Jessie responded. “Finally.”

Jared looked up at the summer evening sky. “Seems early.”

She laughed. “Not if you’re five months old.”

“Or the worn-out parent of a five-month-old.” Ben didn’t look particularly worn out. He looked restless, like a caged tiger ready to spring.

Obviously, Jessie wasn’t daunted. “Admit you love it.”

When she reached for Ben’s hand, Jared wanted to warn her not to love so much, not to wear her heart on her sleeve. But then Ben’s hand closed over hers, and Jared knew their love was mutual. Jessie had won this man’s heart. Ben had drifted into her life—a stranger who stayed—a willing captive.

With a warm glint, Ben smiled. “I’m not complaining.”

Conversation slipped into concerns with the farm. The previous summer, Ben had managed Stones End and married Jessie in the bargain. At length, Ben stood up and stretched. “Well, I’ll be turning in.”

Jessie murmured, “I’ll be along in a minute or two.”

Jared stood. “I should be going.”

“No,” Jessie said, adding softly, “Stay.” And once they were alone, she said, “What’s up? I can always tell when something’s on your mind.”

Jared laughed. He’d spent years protecting Jessie from life’s blows—everything from neighborhood bullies to eating too many unripe apples. When had she gotten so wise?

“I have a problem.” He leaned against the porch rail, but didn’t relax. He looked out toward the pond and the surrounding trees. The forest floor was green and lush. There was new growth where last summer’s fire had left total devastation.

Jessie sat back, rocking gently. “So, tell me.” The squeak on the porch floorboards made an easy rhythm, but it didn’t make the words he had to say anything less than tawdry.

He didn’t know where to begin. “It’s not that easy.”

“Nothing that really matters ever is.”

The moon settled lower in the sky. Somehow, the words felt less awkward under shadowy light where Jessie couldn’t read every expression on his face. Of course, she could probably hear the painful regret in his voice. Explaining to Jessie was hard, much harder, than he’d thought. If he could spare her, he would. At the end, she looked deeply saddened, not judgmental. “And you never saw Laurel again?”

Jared took a deep breath. “No.”

Jessie came to stand beside him. “Does Rachel know?”

Jared looked down into her troubled face. “I don’t know how much she knows. I need to find out before I do anything.”

Wrapping her arms around her waist, Jessie nodded. “There was gossip about Drew and a girl from Stillwater.” In simple words, she explained all she knew, which unfortunately wasn’t much. “This girl turned up and claimed she was pregnant with Drew’s child. When he refused to marry her, his father paid to keep things quiet. But there was still talk.”

Jared frowned. “Why didn’t I ever hear about it?”

“You weren’t here.”

At the reminder, Jared felt a familiar stab of guilt. At eighteen, he’d left, joined the Navy, then worked his way through college and veterinary school. Over the next eight years, he’d come back for visits but never stayed long until he came home for good last summer. He’d left Jessie to deal with his father and the farm. He felt guilty about that, too. So much guilt, so many mistakes. Hopefully, he could handle this situation without making more. He wanted to do the right thing—for everyone.

Contrary to his father’s opinion, Rachel Hale was very much a part of the equation. Jared couldn’t rule her out.

Reminded of Dylan’s aunt, he straightened abruptly. “Ben’s waiting up for you. I should be going.”

Moments later, Jared walked away from Jessie’s snug house. The windows were all lit up. Feeling more alone than usual, Jared walked down the road toward the main farmhouse. The day had started out with promise, but now the evening turned cloudy. Shadows drifted across the far meadow and crept up on Stones End. Like day into night, the past held Jared’s future. In all his wanderings, he’d learned a simple truth: this was where he belonged. He was a Carlisle. Blood ties were indestructible. Instinct told him that Dylan was his.

There were simply too many clues to ignore. But he needed more than instinct before disrupting so many lives.

He had a son.

Son.

The word whispered through him and stole into his heart. His son. His. Then, he remembered Rachel. He remembered her blue-violet eyes, her soft pink mouth.

She was going to hate his guts.

Chapter Four