Joan Pickart - The Baby Bet - His Secret Son

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An earth-shattering explosion…a mysterious call to duty…the woman he'd never forgotten. They all beckoned rugged Clay Callaway–one of the last of the family's bachelors–home to Texas. But in his search for a saboteur, he uncovered something long ago buried–his own demons. For Pam McCall, the childhood sweetheart who marred his memories, was suddenly at very close range, taunting his emotions and creating in Clay a temptation more threatening than any danger he'd ever faced in the line of duty….

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Hey, hey, what a team they were. MacAllister Architects drew up the plans, and Malone Construction built the dynamite structure with perfection.

Oh, hell, yes, what a dynamic duo they were. Two pieces of a puzzle coming together, each with their hard-earned expertise.

The father. The son.

The son of Sally Malone, who had been swept off her feet by a young Robert MacAllister, given him her heart and her innocence, then was abandoned as though she never existed when she discovered she was carrying his child.

Andrew crushed the newspaper into a jagged ball and threw it across the room.

Well, he fumed, Sally Malone had existed, had mattered, had been a warm, loving, wonderful human being, the best mother any child could ask for.

He wanted nothing from Robert MacAllister for himself. Not a damn thing.

But for his mother?

Robert was going to stand before that large family, who no doubt worshiped the ground he walked on, and tell them what he’d done so many years before.

Robert was going to acknowledge that Sally had been a living, breathing person, who had deserved far better than what MacAllister had done to her.

Robert was going to be made to own up to what he had done forty years ago and admit that he had been wrong, a heartless uncaring slug, who had walked away from the responsibilities resulting from his reckless actions.

Robert MacAllister was going to reveal his feet of clay to the entire MacAllister family.

“Clara,” Andrew said gruffly, “wake up. Wake up, damn it.”

Clara’s head snapped upward and she opened her eyes. She blinked several times, straightened in the chair, then smoothed the skirt of her suit.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she said. “I was just resting my eyes, giving you a chance to come to grips with what you’ve just learned.”

“Yeah, right,” Andrew said. “I hope you came here in a taxi, that you weren’t driving your car.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Clara said, holding one hand out before her and examining her nails, “I didn’t feel like dealing with traffic, so I called a limo service. I don’t use smelly taxis. I prefer a private company. My driver is waiting across the street.”

“Fine, then go home.”

Clara looked up at her nephew. “Not until you tell me what you plan to do about Robert MacAllister. I broke my promise, my vow of silence, that I made to my poor dear sister. I did it on your behalf, Andrew. I put your needs before my own guilt for revealing the identity of your father.

“The least you can do is inform me what steps you plan to take to obtain what is due you from Robert MacAllister.”

“Your mind is so twisted by booze, Clara,” Andrew said, shaking his head. “Didn’t you hear what you were saying when you were off on your tangent? You’ve got some sick idea that if MacAllister acknowledges me as his son, then you’ll be welcomed into the MacAllister fold.

“You won’t be alone anymore. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re scared to death of being old and alone, with no one to love you. You brought that newspaper over here tonight for your own selfish reasons, Clara, for what you hoped to gain for yourself.”

Clara got to her feet, swaying unsteadily for a moment.

“How dare you speak to me like that? Who took you in when Sally died and you were fifteen years old? Who put a roof over your head? Fed you when you ate more than three grown men at every meal?

“You would have been in foster care if it hadn’t been for me, Andrew Malone. You owe me. Are you listening? You owe me.

“MacAllister won’t be able to deny that you’re his son. When you become a member of that enormous family, you will take me with you. Do you understand? Do you?”

“I don’t want anything to do with MacAllister’s family!” Andrew yelled. “There’s only one thing I intend to get from that man. One thing.”

“What is it?”

“It’s none of your business, Clara.”

“Money? No, that doesn’t make sense. You have tons of money. His name? Yes, of course. You want to be recognized as a MacAllister, reap the rewards of his power, his status in society.”

“Oh, Clara, give it a rest,” Andrew said wearily. “You just don’t get it. I’m Sally Malone’s son and I’m very proud to be able to say that. I’m a Malone, will always be a Malone. What I want from MacAllister is for my mother and…Ah, hell, forget it.”

“Your mother is dead!” Clara hollered. “What can MacAllister possibly do for her now? You’ve got to think of yourself, and think of me. Look at that photograph again, Andrew. We deserve to be included in that group. We’re part of that family, don’t you see?”

“Clara, please, just go,” Andrew said quietly. “I need to be alone. I have to think about all of this. Go home. Get some rest, something to eat. Don’t drink any more tonight, either.”

“Yes, of course, you need to think,” Clara said, nodding. “Yes, yes, you do that. You’ll sort it all through and realize that I’m right. The time has come for us…for you to take your well-deserved place among the MacAllisters. I know you’ll do the proper thing, Andrew.”

“Oh, yes,” he said, a steely edge to his voice, “I fully intend to do the proper thing, exactly what needs to be done.”

“Good, that’s good,” Clara said, starting toward the door. “Plan it all out with that detail-oriented mind of yours. I’ll speak with you soon and you can tell me what you are going to do. We’re in this together, Andrew. Don’t forget that. Don’t forget me. We’re a team, have been ever since my dear little sister died. Don’t forget me, Andrew.”

Clara left the apartment and a heavy silence fell over the large expanse. Andrew drew a breath that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul, then he crossed the room and picked up the wadded newspaper from the floor.

Sinking onto the sofa, he spread the paper out on the coffee table, smoothing it with his hands.

He stared at the tall, smiling gray-haired man in the center of the color photograph, saw his arm around the shoulders of the attractive older woman who was tucked close to his side.

Andrew shifted his gaze and read the entire article that told of the many accomplishments of the MacAllisters, the honors they’d received over the years.

“‘This marvelous family,’” he read aloud, “‘includes the senior MacAllister brothers, Ralph and Robert, who are now retired, and two generations, beginning with the eldest son, Michael, who is thirty-eight and a member of MacAllister Architects, Incorporated.’”

Andrew had leaned back and rested his head on the top of the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

“Oh, guess again, Daddy dearest,” he’d said, his voice raspy with emotion. “Your eldest son isn’t Michael. Your firstborn son is going to be forty in the spring and is the child you conceived with Sally Malone.

“I’ll hear you say her name, MacAllister. You will acknowledge that she lived, that she loved you, that she mattered.

“And then? Then I never want to see you again. Never.”

A noise in the corridor of the hospital jerked Andrew back to the present and he lunged to his feet. He began to pace the waiting room, while he attempted to push the memories of that fateful evening in his apartment from his mind.

If only…his mind echoed. If only Clara hadn’t brought him that newspaper. If only he hadn’t allowed himself to examine the caption beneath the photograph. If only he hadn’t driven to Ventura with his plan etched in stone, ready to be carried out.

But all those events had happened, and now Robert MacAllister hovered near death because of them.

Andrew stopped and hooked one hand on the back of his neck.

What had Kara MacAllister said? If it wasn’t for a MacAllister, then Andrew wouldn’t exist. What a strange, rather disconcerting thought. And, he had to admit, it was true.

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