"I feel like she somehow called me home." Katherine uttered a self-deprecating laugh. "I know that sounds crazy. She had nothing to do with my finding the quilt. In fact, she hid it from me years ago."

"If she really didn't want you to come home, she would have gotten rid of the chest. She would have thrown it away and then you would have never known."

"Maybe she didn't get a chance. I'm sure she didn't expect to die that young."

"No, but when Margaret took the chest with her, I had hopes that someday it would bring her home. Instead, it brought you home."

"This isn't my home," Katherine said firmly.

"It could be."

Katherine crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked out at the widespread valley, the squares of fences, the colors spread out before her like the quilt that comforted her. She'd never felt like she belonged anywhere until she'd come here, to Paradise. But how could she embrace the town, the people, who had turned their back on her mother? She had to leave.

But how could she leave? When she was half in love with the land and more than half in love with Zach.

The thought of the man in whose arms she'd slept made her sigh. She wondered how he'd feel about her being related to the Stantons, the family who'd practically adopted him. How odd that they'd turned their back on their own daughter and yet taken in a teenage boy and raised him with love.

Were her grandparents monsters or flawed human beings? Did they deserve her love, her understanding, or a legacy of mistrust and dislike pa.s.sed down from her mother? Katherine had never felt more torn in her life.

"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" Claire said.

Katherine didn't know if Claire was talking about the view or the secrets that lay between them. She wondered how the valley could look so peaceful when her life was in utter chaos.

"Come home with me, Katherine. I want you to meet your grandfather. I want you to see your mother's bedroom. I want you to give us a chance. I know we don't deserve one, but I'm asking anyway. Will you come?"

Chapter 20.

"Sit down, Zach," Harry said from his armchair in front of the fireplace in his study. He waved his hand to the seat across from him. "We need to talk."

Zach hesitated. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk. He didn't like the look in Harry's eyes, the expression of utter weariness and dejection making his shoulders bow, his head droop.

Jackson's words rang through his head, Don't count on inheriting the old homestead.

"Please," Harry said.

Zach walked across the room and sat down on the edge of the armchair across from Harry. He glanced over at the fireplace, at the cold dark ashes, and felt a chill run through his body. Something was terribly wrong.

"There's been some trouble," Harry began.

"I heard about J.T.," Zach said, turning back at Harry. "Will he be all right?"

"I don't know. Claire went to the hospital to be with Mary Jo." Harry paused. "You know, Claire loves Mary Jo and Leeanne as if they were her very own daughters. In many ways they replaced Margaret in her heart."

Zach knew he was in trouble now. Even though Zach had heard stories about the wayward Stanton daughter, even vaguely remembered meeting her as a child, Harry had never spoken to Zach about Margaret, not once in the last eighteen years.

"Well, I'm sure J.T. will pull through. He's a tough son of a b.i.t.c.h."

"I'm not overly concerned with J.T. at the moment," Harry said, pressing the tips of his fingers together. "I've found something out, something very disturbing. It's going to change everything. I thought I knew what to do, but now I find myself faced with a situation I never imagined would come to pa.s.s. Maybe if your father hadn't come back to town..."

Harry cleared his throat and looked straight into Zach's eyes with so much pain and disillusionment that Zach felt himself getting smaller by the second. He couldn't let Harry say it. He'd hidden behind the lie for far too long. In fact, ever since he'd told Katherine the story, he'd known that it was time to come clean, to really stand in front of Harry as a man, and not as the boy he'd once been.

He'd mocked Katherine for wanting to hang on to a dream, when he'd done exactly the same thing. "You had to know sooner or later," Zach said abruptly. "I just wish I'd been the one to tell you." He couldn't let Harry ask the question. He had to confess. It was his only chance for redemption.

"Zach?" Harry questioned, his voice shaking over the one short word.

"Yes, I did it. I took Claire's wedding ring eighteen years ago and covered it up until I could afford to buy a replacement."

Harry looked stunned, shocked, as if he hadn't heard the words before. As if Jackson hadn't told him. Oh, s.h.i.t! Zach suddenly realized that Harry didn't know. Jackson couldn't have told him. If he had, the old man wouldn't look so completely surprised.

"Well..." Harry took a deep breath. "Well."

Zach felt his heart drop to his feet. He'd just exposed the one thing he'd tried to hide. He'd just set himself up for the fall of a lifetime. d.a.m.n his father and his insinuations.

"You took Claire's wedding ring?" Harry said finally. "I had no idea."

Zach looked up at the ceiling, praying for divine intervention, maybe a lightning bolt to strike him dead. But nothing came. He apparently had to live long enough to tell the truth, to face the music.

"Yes, I took her ring. My father told me he wouldn't leave me behind in Paradise unless I gave him something to take in my place. He wanted Claire's ring, and I stole it for him."

Harry's eyes didn't leave his face, and Zach forced himself not to turn away. If he saw rejection and disappointment and anger, it was only half of what he deserved.

"Claire's wedding ring was found some time back," Harry said.

"A copy. I bought her a new one." Another long punishing stare set Zach's teeth on edge. But he wouldn't flinch. He wasn't a scared kid anymore. He was an adult, and he had to take responsibility for what he'd done. He was glad it was finally out in the open. He had no more secrets, nothing left to hide.

"You bought Claire a new ring, exactly like the old one?" Harry seemed to have trouble understanding what Zach had told him.

Zach nodded. "It took me a while to match it. When I took the ring I wrote down the inscription, so I wouldn't forget."

Harry slowly got to his feet, picked up the iron rod by the fireplace, and poked at the ashes in the grate. Zach wondered if the old man was contemplating bringing it down on his head.

"I'm sorry," Zach said, feeling helpless. "I know an apology doesn't cover it. What I did was wrong. Very, very wrong. I regretted it every day since. I'll tell Claire the truth," Zach said, "as soon as she gets home."

Harry set down the poker and turned to him.

"You will tell her the truth, because there have already been too many lies told. But I'd ask you to wait a few days. Claire has enough to deal with right now."

"What do you mean?"

"What I wanted to talk to you about."

"It wasn't the ring-"

Harry cut him off with a shake of his head, a momentary smile crossing his lips. "I'm afraid you confessed for nothing, Zach. Your father hasn't spoken about a ring. In a way, I wish he had. It would have been easier to deal with. No, Jackson had bigger fish to fry this time around."

Harry sat down in his chair, his shoulders slumping with fatigue, and Zach was once again struck by the fact that something was terribly wrong, and it obviously made his long-ago theft pale in comparison. For that he was grateful, but the look of distress on Harry's face made him realize that whatever had happened was about to change their lives.

"A long time ago, I, too, made a big mistake, Zach." Harry pressed his fingers together once again as he put his thoughts together. "I sent my daughter, Margaret, away, and when she didn't come back-when I couldn't find her-I told Claire that our daughter had died."

Zach's heart skipped a beat. "You mean she's still alive?"

Harry immediately shook his head. "No, not anymore. But she didn't die when I said she did. The only thing buried in the plot at the ParadiseValleyCemetery is an empty coffin."

Zach blew a silent whistle through his teeth and sat back in his chair. This went beyond his wildest imaginings. h.e.l.l, it went beyond anything Jackson had ever done.

"I wanted to ease Claire's mind, you see." Harry looked at him imploringly as if Zach could absolve his conscience. "I wanted to stop her from fretting every day about whether or not Margaret was all right, if she was alone, if she was healthy, if she was hurting. When I couldn't find Margaret, and I tried to find her, believe me, I figured it was hopeless and better for Claire to get on with her life."

Zach didn't know how to reply. He was shocked to think that Harry could have faked his own daughter's death. Those weren't the actions of the man he knew, the man he held up on a pedestal of integrity and honor. Harry no longer seemed quite as tall as he used to be.

"Does Claire know about this now?" Zach asked quietly.

"Yes. As you can imagine, she's furious, heartbroken, devastated." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I never thought it would come out. As the years went by, I thought we were safe. I thought if a miracle occurred and Margaret came home, even though it would be a shock, Claire would forgive me, because she'd have her daughter back. That didn't happen."

"What did happen?"

"Somehow your father came up with information I couldn't find to save my soul."

"My father?" Zach felt his body stiffen in antic.i.p.ation of another crushing blow.

"Yes."

Zach's mind whirled with possibilities. He knew his father had a new game, but he didn't get the tie-in with the Stantons. "My father knew that you didn't bury Margaret in the cemetery?"

"Apparently he did."

"When did he figure that out?"

"I don't know. It doesn't matter. What does matter is what I'm going to do now. You know I hired a private investigator a few weeks ago. You never asked why and I respected that."

"As I respected your right to privacy."

"You've been like a son to me, Zach, or maybe I should say grandson. Even though what you did with Claire's ring was wrong, I know you're a good man. That theft came from the hand of a distrustful, scared sixteen-year-old. You wouldn't do it again."

"I'd like to think I wouldn't."

"I've watched you grow up. I've watched you change. I've watched you learn to respect yourself."

"Because of you-your confidence in me."

"You grew up to be the man you were always meant to be. I didn't have much to do with it."

It wasn't true, but Zach sensed this wasn't the time to argue.

"Since my heart attack," Harry continued, "I've been thinking about what to do with the farm once I'm gone. That's why I hired the investigator."

"To check me out."

"No. No," Harry said with a wave of his hand. "To rea.s.sure myself that Margaret was really unreachable."

Zach couldn't help the nervous knots that tied up in his stomach. "And did you rea.s.sure yourself?"

"I was going to leave it to you, Zach, all of it."

Zach heard the was and froze in his seat.

"I can't do that now," Harry said.

"The farm is yours to do with as you wish," Zach forced himself to say. "But-may I ask what you are planning to do?"

Harry looked him straight in the eye. "I'm going to leave it to my granddaughter."

Granddaughter? Zach suddenly put it all together in his mind. His father, Claire, Margaret, and the only woman who could possibly be Harry's granddaughter.

"I'm sorry, Zach, but I have to leave the farm to her," Harry said. "It was Margaret's legacy and now it's hers."

"Hers? Do you want to tell me her name?" Even though he knew, he had to ask the question. He had to be sure.

"Katherine Whitfield."

d.a.m.n. Zach got to his feet, propelled by anger and hurt and a disillusionment he didn't think he was capable of feeling. "Does Katherine know she's your granddaughter?"

"Yes."

"When?" Zach asked through tight lips.

"Yesterday."

Yesterday! She'd come to his house and made love to him. They'd touched each other inside and out. He'd thought he knew everything about her, that she was as exposed, as vulnerable to him, as a woman could be, but she'd kept one very big secret to herself.

No wonder she'd snuck out without a word. She was about to steal his life out from under him. Not content with the land and the farm and the horses, she'd also wanted his heart. Thank G.o.d, he hadn't told her he loved her; he hadn't said the words she wanted to hear. At least he had something left, some small piece of pride.

"I'm sorry, Zach. I'm sure Katherine will want your help running the place. She doesn't know one d.a.m.n thing about horses. She'll need help, lots of it. Things will go on the same as always."

Zach could barely hear Harry. His blood was roaring through his veins, anger and fury making him half crazed with the desire to hit something or someone. He hadn't felt this betrayed when Crystal had left him at the altar.

Because he hadn't loved Crystal the way he loved Katherine.

No! That wasn't true. He didn't love Katherine. He didn't even know her. He'd thought she was honest, not a secret in her heart, not a lie on her lips. He'd been wrong. Dead wrong.

"Zach?"

He looked up at the sound of a woman's voice, her voice. G.o.d help him, but he'd never forget the sound of it. And when she entered the room, Zach looked at Katherine, yet saw a stranger.