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“Looks like her,” Chase admitted slowly. Stunned, Chase fought the truth that stared him straight in the face.
“And the dog—didn’t you grow up with a black cocker pup?”
“It’s not the same dog.”
“Named Charlie.”
Chase didn’t move. His guts wrenched painfully as he stared at the picture.
“And what about the man?” Caleb asked. “Is that your pa?”
“No!”
Caleb snorted and shook his white head. “Give it up, son. That’s me!” He tapped his finger on the slick picture. “And the first time I saw you, it was like lookin’ into a mirror thirty years ago!”
Chase flinched and tried to hold on to his temper. “I don’t believe you. I don’t know how you manage to—”
“Then look at the letters. They’re all addressed to me, in your ma’s handwriting. Read what’s inside,” the old man demanded, pushing the stack of letters from the table and letting them scatter on the floor. “They’re from your ma all right. And they even told me about you. But of course, that was when she’d already made plans to marry another man. She never told me his name and it took me nearly thirty years to track you down. By then she and her husband were both gone.”
Chase picked up a letter, scanned the handwriting and then crumpled it in his fist. Anger and disbelief mingled into an ungodly rage that contorted his features and made his insides knot. “Go to hell!”
Dani took hold of his arm. “Let’s go—Come on, we’ve got to find Cody. It’s obvious he can’t help us.”
“And all this time you thought another man was your pa,” Caleb taunted.
Chase coiled like a rattler ready to strike and his eyes sparked, but there was a trace of wariness in his voice. “If you knew all this when you first came to me, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have believed me?”
“I still don’t.”
Caleb shrugged his big shoulders. “Then it didn’t really matter none, did it?”
Dani watched the argument with growing horror. Whether Chase believed it or not, it was evident to her that he was Caleb’s son. Sick with the thought, she backed to the window, watching as the two men glared and argued with each other, their voices climbing with the fever pitch of emotion. Chase, ready to strike, ready to lash out at the cause of his pain, and Caleb, smug in his knowledge of the truth.
“You miserable son of a bitch,” Chase said, his anger finally exploding as he crashed a fist into the wall. A painting slid to the floor with a thud, the expensive frame splintering apart. “Why did you drag me into all this? Why didn’t you leave me the hell alone?”
“Because I didn’t want to die without seeing you. Some day you might have children of your own. Then you’ll understand,” Caleb predicted.
“But all this plotting and sneaking around.” Chase rubbed the bridge of his nose and tried to stave off another wave of fury. He wanted to crash his fist into Caleb’s smirking face but realized that injuring a seventy-year-old man would prove nothing. He was shaking with rage, his voice low and firm as he pierced Caleb with eyes so like the old man’s.
Dani shuddered and backed out of the room.
“Listen to me, Johnson, I don’t want to talk about this . . . I don’t want to think about it! I just want to find Dani’s boy!”
“I have no idea where that kid is—”
“Let’s go!” Chase said, grabbing Dani’s arm and propelling her to the door.
Dani glanced at the letters on the floor, the photograph on the table and Caleb’s ruddy face. “No,” Dani said, holding up her hands and backing toward the door. “I think you should stay here and work this out. He’s your father, Chase. Your own flesh and blood!”
Stunned and bewildered, she tried to make some sense of it all—deal with the emotional onslaught that twisted her into a thousand little pieces. Chase—Caleb’s son? She was numb with shock and didn’t think she could stand another. “I’ll go home and wait for Cody—”
She raced for the door and ran outside, grateful for the cool air as it pushed her hair from her face. The wind was lashing furiously at the house and rain was peppering the ground in thick drops, settling the dust and splattering on the flagstone walk.
“Dani—” Chase called after her and followed her into the stormy night. He caught up with her at the pickup, his hands jerking on her shoulders and forcing her to face him. “Where are you going?”
“To look for my son!”
