The woman's voice became clear and shrill enough to reach Nicole. “You've been hiding my son from me and I'm going to take him home.”

  Consuelo and Nicole turned and looked at one another. Yes, this woman was Paul's mother.

  “I didn't hide him from you. You took him to my father, after he ran away. Father brought him here to me,” Max said calmly, his arms still crossed over his chest, his feet spread apart in a solid stance.

  Nicole had never seen him look so unmovable. She glanced at the woman and couldn't help but wonder what he'd seen in her. She didn't appear to be the type of woman a man like Max would care for. Yet they'd had a child together.

  “Yes, and then the old bastard wouldn't tell me where you were. How could I know where my baby was if your father wouldn't tell me?” she whined. “I want my son back.”

  “You obviously found him on your own,” Max said, his voice cool as a cold winter's day.

  “Only because someone I know saw your wedding announcement and told me you'd recently married.” She glanced around at the house and land. “Seems that marriage has certainly paid off for you.”

  Max didn't respond, just stared at her with the coldest, blankest eyes Nicole had ever seen. A shiver went through her at the expression on his face, his body stance a solid force to be reckoned with as he stood there, and saying nothing. She'd never seen this side of him and the severity of his coldness surprised her. The warm, gentle man she knew now appeared ruthless.

  “I want my son to come home now!” the woman said, her voice loud and strident. “He's my boy and you can't take him away from me.”

  “I'm not trying to take him away from you. You gave him up when you took him to my father. Don't blame me for this situation,” Max said coolly, his voice not rising but remaining dead-even. “Your gentleman friend didn't want Paul around, so he ran away. He said he told you and you did nothing.”

  The woman placed one hand on her hip, leaned forward until she was almost in Max's face. “Paul knew it wasn't permanent. And now that man is no longer seeing me, so I'm here to take my son home.”

  “He's not ready to go with you,” Max said.

  “I'm his mother and he'll do as I say. Now get him so that I can take him home before I start searching this place for him,” she said, her voice loud enough that Consuelo and Nicole could understand every word.

  “Desiree, I'm his father,” Max said as though he was speaking to a small child. “When Paul tells me he's ready to return to you, then I'll bring him back. But right now he's happy here and wants to stay.”

  “I'm sure you've made him very happy,” she said. “Bribing the boy, buying him things to keep him with you. But if you really cared about him, you'd send him money to buy those things.”

  Max said something that Nicole couldn't hear, something that sent Desiree off into a fit of rage.

  “If I lived in a big fancy place like this, he'd want to stay with me all the time too. I do the best I can with the money I have and you can't keep him away from me.”

  Nicole wondered where Paul could be and wanted to protect the boy and keep him from seeing his parents fight like this.

  “I'm not leaving until I see my son,” Desiree said, folding her arms across her chest with a defiant toss of her head as she raised her chin.

  “Fine. If you can find him, then you go right ahead and speak with the boy. But me, I have work to do now, so if you'll excuse me, I must return to my duties,” Max said and turned and walked toward the barn, leaving her standing in the dusty drive.

  “This is not the end of this discussion,” she screamed. “I'll bring the sheriff back. Paul! Paul, you get out here now!”

  Max didn't say a word, but continued walking away, his back to the woman. As he passed the house, he glanced up and saw Nicole standing on the verandah.

  He nodded an acknowledgment, as though nothing were amiss, and kept on walking.

  “Paul!”

  “Consuelo, where is Paul?” she asked quietly.

  “Paul!”

  “He's out in the fields with the rest of the men. His father has been sending him out there each day,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Send Moses to make sure that he keeps the boy away from the house. He's not to tell him anything, just keep him in the field until she's gone,” Nicole said, angry that any child should have to deal with this kind of treatment.

  Paul's mother stood in the middle of the driveway looking helpless for a moment as Max walked away. She screamed after him, “Damn you, Max Viel, this is not the last you'll hear from me. I want my son back. I need him. Paul! Paul, you come out now!”

  Nicole couldn't help but wonder if Desiree, though not the best specimen of motherhood, wouldn't do better if she received the monetary support she needed to raise all of her children.

  Nicole's own mother knew from experience how difficult it could be to raise a child alone. She'd been fired from her teaching position and from then on had taken in sewing and lived with her parents in order to survive until she'd finally succumbed to pneumonia.

  To this day, Nicole had no idea who her father was or why he'd rejected her mother and her. Not a day went by that she didn't wonder about who he could be and where he lived.

  She glanced at Desiree still standing in the driveway, yelling for Paul, and suddenly, Paul seemed so much like herself at this young age without a father.

  There had been no money for luxuries, no extras, nothing that they didn't have to work and scrape for. In school, the children tormented Nicole with the knowledge that she had no father.

  In her mind, Max took the place of her father and all she could think about was that, once again, a child suffered because of the mistakes of his parents and his father didn't seem to care.

  It seemed so unfair, so wrong, that a child endured the pain of his parents' mistakes rather than those who had created him and brought him into the world.

  Nicole slammed into the house. Why did people do this to their children? Max, the one man she thought might be decent and kind, had a major flaw; not taking care of his son! Not living up to his responsibilities!

  Maybe he wasn't much different from Jean after all.

  Chapter Eleven

  Max walked up the stairs and crossed the verandah, going in the back door of the big house. How quickly he'd become accustomed to living here and how the old house felt like he'd come home.

  There were so many things he wanted to do around the house, but he waited, knowing that his first priority could only be his union with Nicole. Soon, very soon, he would have to be honest and tell her that he'd knowingly married her for the land, but until then he kept hoping that she would see how wise it would be for them to stay together. Certainly, they could have a good married life; the kiss they experienced the other day showed there was something between them.

  Today when Desiree had shown up, he'd been afraid she would reveal too much of his identity, and Nicole would realize that something didn't add up. But he'd managed to scrape through yet another incident and even managed to hang on to his son. Though it was only a matter of time before Desiree would return and begin to hound Paul to come home, unless he worked out something with his lawyers.

  He opened the door and stepped into the pantry adjacent to the dining room. As he entered the dining room Nicole stood waiting for him, her hands on her hips. His eyes were drawn to her beautiful mouth. He couldn't help but stare as he recalled the warm touch of her lips against his, the feel of her breasts in his hands. The memory of their last meeting began a hungry ache within him and he wanted to finish what they'd started.

  “Where's Paul?” she questioned, her voice stern, her manner cold, not at all welcoming, bringing him back from his reverie.

  “Well, hello to you too,” he said, aware her greeting was not a glad-to-see-you, welcome home response. “He hasn't returned from the fields yet. Why?”

  “I'm worried about him,” she said, gazing at Max, her expression wary. “You're not going to send him away with his mother, are you?”

  The urge to wrap his arms around her, feel her body next to his and give her a proper hello seized him, but tension radiated from her and she seemed on edge, almost angry, and he knew his embrace would not be welcome.

  Max shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, trying to focus on the present He'd love to keep his son with him all the time, but Desiree would make the boy feel guilty for not staying with her. “That is Paul's decision. If he wants to stay with me, he's welcome to, but I'm not going to force him.”

  Nicole seemed to draw up and he could see her eyes widen with fury, which surprised him. “You'd let him go off with that woman? You wouldn't fight to keep him?”

  “She is his mother,” Max said, warmed as he realized that Nicole seemed genuinely worried about Paul. “And the boy is old enough to decide where he wants to stay. Why are you so concerned about him?”

  She stared at him, the irises of her blue eyes flashing daggers at Max as she walked closer to him and crossed her arms across her chest defiantly.

  The smell of lilacs filled his senses, surrounding him, setting his blood to pounding in his veins. Anger stiffened her body and yet he wanted to soothe her, mold her body to his, kiss her senseless until she begged him for more.

  “Do you have any idea how hard it is for a woman alone to raise a child without a father?” she asked.

  “I think so. Desiree has five children including Paul, but she seems to do all right,” Max said, and then hastily added, “only Paul is mine.”

  “Five children!” Nicole seemed stunned. She began to pace the length of the room. “My God, how does she manage? How does she feed and clothe those children?”

  Max gave a little laugh, wishing Nicole would relax and they could discuss anything other than Desiree. “You may not want to know the answer to that question.”

  Nicole turned on Max, her face red, her blue eyes flashing. Why was she so angry? “You can laugh, because Desiree must have to live a disreputable life just to take care of her children. But her children are the very ones who suffer.”

  “Desiree was hardly forced into the life she's chosen,” Max said, suddenly uncertain as to the turn of this conversation. Nicole seemed to want to pick a fight and he suddenly wondered what they were really arguing about.

  Nicole walked around the dining room table, shaking her head. “You have no idea how hard it is on an illegitimate child. The constant harassment from the other children at school because their parents shared your dirty little secrets with their children. The fact that your mother can't afford a new frock for you every time you outgrow yours, so she adds a new hem, but it may not be of the same color or even the same fabric as the original dress. The fact that your mother, who was once one of the schoolteachers in town, is now taking in sewing to support the two of you because the school board thinks she's not of good moral character and should not be teaching the other children.”

  Max didn't say a word as Nicole spewed forth the ugly things he'd known happened in some towns, and realized suddenly she had experienced the dreadful bias in some fashion.

  She took a deep breath. “I have no father. Don't know who he is or why he never married my mother, who paid dearly for her mistake. No one in town ever forgave her or let her forget what she'd done. When I was eighteen, I moved away to escape the horrid stories and whispered stares, only to have Jean put me in the same situation.”

  At this information, Max felt like someone had slapped him. Why hadn't his lawyers given him these facts? Suddenly he understood why Nicole insisted on marrying right away. So many of her actions suddenly made sense. Her urgent need to belong to the community, yet her shyness at meeting new people.

  Nicole was illegitimate.

  “Have you tried to find your father?” Max asked gently.

  “My mother refused to tell me his name, saying that if he wanted to be involved in my life, he would come to see me,” she said, her voice shaking. “I don't know where to begin to find him. And it's obvious he doesn't want to know me or be a part of my life. Yet, I would like to know who he is. Just knowing would ease my curiosity.”

  “Are you certain that would ease your curiosity?” he asked, repeating her words back to her.

  “No, but I'd like to be offered the choice of knowing.” She shook her head. “A man gets a woman with child and then doesn't want to marry her and leaves all the responsibilities of raising that child to the woman.” She paused for a moment, her full gaze returning to his, her face almost sad. “And now I find out that you're no different than the other men I've known. You have an illegitimate son, whose mother must scrape and beg for her living. No wander. She dresses so brazenly.”

  Max stiffened, feeling unfairly accused.

  “That's not true. You don't know how Paul came into my life or what I've done for him,” Max said.

  “What you've done for him? It's obvious you're ashamed of the boy. He comes here, you put him in the barn, and the poor kid has only one set of clothes. How does that reflect on a father who cares for his son? You helped create him, you should be taking care of him.”

  The hair on the back of Max's neck started to rise. He'd always been very involved in Paul's life. He loved his son, regardless of the fact that he had never loved Desiree.

  “I do care for him, the best I can,” Max said, knowing he had to be careful what he said, but needing to defend his actions as Paul's father. “I know it doesn't look very good, but I give Desiree money and I buy the kid new clothes and I try to help him in any way I can.

  “You're right, it doesn't look good,” she said.

  Max waited, trying to let his anger cool before he set her straight He crossed the room, the dining table between them, his blood pounding in his veins. “I was young when I made a huge mistake with Desiree. We had a very brief affair. Paul is the result of that liaison and I recognize that I'm partly responsible for his being here today.”

  “So you think you can just pay Desiree some money every so often and that takes care of your obligations?” Nicole asked, her voice rising.

  “No! I do the best I can to help Desiree, but I was not about to tie myself to her for the rest of my life just because she'd gotten with child,” Max said, his anger rising at the way Nicole seemed determined to make him into someone who didn't care about his son. While Max knew his actions regarding his son were appropriate, he needed Nicole to believe in him.

  “For Paul's sake you should be involved in his life. He needs you there, showing him that you care, that he's important to you. It's more than just money and clothes, it's about love and support” Nicole said, coming around the table toward him.

  Max took a deep breath, trying to calm the resentment he could feel building within his chest. From the day Paul was born, Max had done everything he could to help the boy, except marry his mother. And he just couldn't bring himself to go that far. Max didn't like Nicole accusing him of not being a good parent, especially when she didn't understand how he'd been involved in Paul's life. And he couldn't explain to her without telling her the truth about himself.

  “You know nothing about me and my son,” he said, his voice tight

  “I know I see a child struggling to survive the best he can, while his parents argue and neglect him.”

  Nicole took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Paul deserves to be treated better.”

  “I'm not going to let Desiree control my life. I'll do everything I can to help Paul, but Desiree lives her life the way she wants to,” he said, his voice rising. “And whether you believe me or not, I take care of my son. I'm not your father, Nicole. I'm just a man who made a mistake, like your mother, when I was young.”

  Max turned and walked out the door. He'd never felt so angry and defensive regarding his son. Somehow Nicole had managed to find the one topic that Max was sensitive to, the matter of his son Paul. Before today, no one had ever accused him of being a poor father and he'd prided himself on taking care of his son, but could he be blind to his faults as a father? And Nicole knew from her own experience the pain of being an illegitimate child, but Max wasn't like her unknown father.

  ***

  Nicole watched Max hurry from the dining room, his back stiff. She'd never seen him react to something she said so vividly. The sharp features of his face all but smoldered with fury, his green eyes widened and flashed with barely suppressed rage. But his last words stunned her. Was she being unfair by comparing Max to the man who'd only helped conceive her?

  Yes, she'd compared Max to her nonexistent father and found a lot of similarities. Or at least a man who hadn't cared properly for his child.

  Her mother had refused to tell her the name of her father, carrying the secret to her grave. For a while Nicole had searched for some clue as to who he could be, rummaging through her mother's things after she died, and still she'd never found a name, a picture, or anything that would give her a clue as to his identity.

  Sometimes she felt like a piece of the puzzle was missing. She had given up searching the faces of strangers and even wondered if the man was still alive. Yet she couldn't help but think that even a name wouldn't satisfy the secret longing she still felt.

  She'd wanted a father just like all the other children and Paul deserved the same in his life.

  Nicole sank down in a chair, knowing that soon it would be time for dinner, though she hardly felt ready to face Max again. Had she been wrong to accuse him of not taking care of Paul?

  She only knew that from everything she'd seen he didn't appear to have taken his guardianship of the boy seriously. The only reason she knew about Paul was because she'd seen him wandering about the plantation. And then, when she confronted Max, he'd told her that the boy was sleeping in the barn. She'd hardly qualify a building where the animals slept as the best place for a twelve-year-old child to sleep. Why would he put Paul there unless he was ashamed of his own son?

  The poor child had few clothes and it wasn't until she'd confronted Max that he had taken the boy to town and purchased him some new trousers. Then, after witnessing Desiree's emotional hysterics this afternoon, she hardly thought that Max stood up to the woman, let alone defended poor Paul.

 

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