“Mommy, when can I go to heaven to see Daddy?”

Meg drew Katie’s dress off, feeling how hard this was going to be on both her and her daughter. “You miss him already, don’t you?”

She nodded, and her large eyes pooled with tears. “I want my daddy.”

“Oh, baby, I know.” Meg kissed the top of Katie’s head and helped her change into her pajamas. “I wish he was here, too.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yes. He was a wonderful daddy, a wonderful daddy to us both.”

“When can I see him?”

Meg gave her the plush toy rabbit she always slept with. and picked up Allen’s framed photograph on the nightstand. “Remember what I told you this morning? Daddy’s picture will stay right beside your bed. Then you can see him whenever you want.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Meg helped Katie set the picture safely on the nightstand. Clutching her rabbit, she lay down and stared at Allen’s picture with such studious concentration, it broke Meg’s heart. “Mommy, can I have the light on? I want Daddy to see me.”

“I’ll leave the light on, and the light in the bathroom, too. If you get scared or need anything, you call me, okay?”

“Okay.” Katie opened her arms for a hug. “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. Daddy does, too.”

Meg tucked the covers around Katie and kissed her forehead. “Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Exiting swiftly, Meg drew the door closed to the point where she could still hear any sounds in the room, if need be. Standing in the hall, she wiped her eyes and listened the way all mothers listened, to make sure her child was settling down.

How many times had she done this? How many times had she kissed Katie good-night? Hundreds of times. And how many times had she kissed Allen good-night?

Hardly ever.

“Is she asleep?”

Jumping, Meg spotted Jack Tarkenton’s broad-shouldered silhouette standing in the shadows at the end of the hall. “I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice hushed. “Now.”

She advanced on him, using her most forceful whisper. “I think I’ve made it abundantly clear that I have no desire whatsoever to talk with you.” She stabbed a finger at the stairs. “Please leave.”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is, Meg. I only want a few minutes of your time.”

“How dare you,” she whispered furiously. “How dare you come to my husband’s funeral. How dare you come to my house. How dare you come anywhere near me.”

“Katie’s mine, Meg. I know it and you know it, so stop the righteous-sounding speech and take me to someplace private where we can talk.”

Meg stared at him, seeing his coldness while feeling her own anger drain into the well of her deepest fear. No, this could not be happening. He could not have said—

“You heard me. I know I’m Katie’s father.”

“No,” she breathed. “You’re not.”

“I was there when she was conceived, remember?”

She pushed past him. “ ‘Remember’ is the last thing I want to do, especially with my husband barely cold in his grave. He’s Katie’s father. Not you.”

Jack caught her arm. “I’m warning you, Meg. There are plenty of people downstairs. We can do this in private or we can do this in public. It makes no difference to me.”

She wrenched her arm from him. “Get away from me.”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“No.” She ducked to make her voice heard on the level below. “Bram?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you upstairs.”

“I’ll be right there, Meg.”

Triumphant, she turned to find Jack leaning against the wall, hands slung in the trouser pockets of his impeccable suit. “Big brother doesn’t know about us, does he? If he knew, my sister would know, and she would have come straight to me. I wonder how Bram and Amanda will feel when the two of them find out precisely what we were doing on the sacred occasion of their wedding day.”

“Amanda’s your sister. You wouldn’t do that to her.”

“Try me.”

Meg heard Bram’s tread on the stairs. “Meg?”

“Here,” she called, wishing she could rip the smugness off Jack’s face. Or have Bram rip it off.

“Hey, Jack,” he greeted. “I didn’t know you were up here, too.” Bram turned to her. “Meg, what can I do for you?”

Jack’s challenging look of inquiry told Meg he wasn’t about to retrieve the gauntlet he’d thrown down. She checked her brother’s strong, familiar face. All she had to do was tell him the truth. He would forgive her. So would the rest of her family.

The truth shall set you free.

Except where Jack Tarkenton was involved. With his wealth and name, the only thing the truth would set free was a battalion of lawyers. She wasn’t ready to have that happen, not yet. Not unless it was the only way to protect Katie.

“I’m sorry, Bram,” she. said. “Jack heard me call and came up himself.”

“Katie just needed an extra good-night kiss,” Jack explained, straightening, rising to the occasion with impressive ease. “I’m not her uncle like you, Bram, but considering the circumstances, I thought it was a good sign that Katie was willing to accept one from me.”

Chills raced down Meg’s spine. She had forgotten how well he lied. She’d also forgotten how incredibly breathless she got when he flashed that celebrated smile of his.

Bram responded to it, too. “It’s good to see you here, Jack. It meant a lot to Amanda to have you at the burial service. Meg, too, I’m sure. The more a family comes together in times of crisis, the stronger it will be.”

Sickened by the irony in that little speech, Meg plunged down the stairs between them. What family? With Allen dead at the hands of a drunk driver, hers was destroyed. Now she had to deal with Jack Tarkenton. How in the world had he found out the truth? Other than to Allen, she had never breathed her secret to anyone.

Thankfully, the only mourners who lingered downstairs were members of her own family. Gathered on the backyard patio, they were enjoying the warmth of the dying sun while Bram and Amanda’s three-year-old son, J.J., played on the swing set.

Meg decided if she was going to have a showdown with Jack, the kitchen was the place to do it. The heart of her house was cozy and filled with the many small touches that made it her own. Herbs grew on the windowsill and copper-bottomed pots hung from a rack above the stove, matching the warm tones of terra cotta and eggnog. More important to Meg, the kitchen overlooked the backyard, within calling distance of her family.

At the approach of male voices, she hid her serious attack of nerves by starting a new pot of coffee and busily laying out fresh cookies on a plate. She addressed her brother when he and Jack entered. “Bram, would you let everyone know out back there’s more coffee on the way?”

“Sure. I wanted to check on Amanda and J.J., anyway.” Bram pecked her cheek and stole one of the cookies as he headed for the door. “Keep Meg company, will you, Jack?”

“What’s a brother-in-law for?”

The moment the door closed, Meg folded her arms and turned on him. “I want to know why you think you’re Katie’s father.”

“I don’t think—I know. I had you followed.”

“Followed! When?”

“After our passionate weekend,” he replied, helping himself to coffee. “All the women I sleep with have to pass muster, you see. I use the services of a private investigator, an extremely discreet one, I might add. Saves me from some nasty surprises. Like yours, for example.”

“Katie was not a nasty surprise.”

“Your marriage was.” He sipped from his mug, inspecting her with interest as he lounged against the counter, completely relaxed in his thousand dollar suit and hundred dollar tie.

Meg hid the tremor of her hands by wrapping them around her mug. “You must have heard about it. I asked Amanda to tell your side of the family.”

“She did, a week or so after the fact. Amanda also mentioned it wasn’t like you to be so secretive, Meg. All of a sudden you up and eloped, without one word to anybody. It created quite a stir, even in my family.”