expressions that raced across his face.
What would they do now? Had sharing the news with Ross eased the burden? Or had she merely acquired a whole new set of troubles?
But even as the thought came, Cara knew that there would have been no way to avoid the inevitable. Ross Gifford had a right to know the truth, and if she had delayed the news, she only would have made things worse.
When he remained silent, she asked, "What are you going to do now?"
"I don't know."
He stood and began to pace the narrow confines of the room. A deep line slashed between his brows. His strides were quick and powerful, and Cara had the impression of a tiger that had been unexpectedly caged.
"Your girls. What are their names?"
She didn't fault him for not remembering. His mind was probably still stuck on the discovery he'd just made.
"Heidi and Zoe."
"And the one who looks like my wife is..."
She felt something akin to a pang touch her heart. The one who looks like my wife. He spoke of his wife as if she were still alive.
"Zoe. Zoe is the redhead."
Tension settled into the muscles of her jaw, even though she told herself that she shouldn't feel threatened by the question. He wasn't making a claim on the child, he was just asking for information.
Wasn't he?
"Your brother and his wife. Did either of them have red hair?"
She shook her head. "We have no redheads in our family that we know of. Zoe's coloring always puzzled us. I guess now we know...or I know."
She bit her lip, reminded again that she was alone in making whatever decisions had to be made. The actions and responses she made from this moment on would determine much of the children's future.
Ross was pacing again. His features had grown
even harder, if that was possible, but Cara couldn't even guess at the emotions he must be feeling.
He must be a hell of a lawyer, she realized. If he was able to keep his thoughts so skillfully hidden, he must terrify his adversaries. She shivered, glad that she would not be facing this man on the witness' stand.
From the comer of her eye Cara noted that the children had returned and were watching Ross from the doorway. Their faces were smeared with chocolate and crumbs, and they had never looked more adorable to her.
"What were they like, your brother and sister?" Ross asked.
Cara flicked a glance from Ross to the children. "They were good people. My brother was sensitive and funny and smart. His wife was petite and clever and talented."
"What happened?" The question was offered without a shred of emotion. Cara had grown so accustomed to people offering their immediate sympathies that she found the question unnerving—especially when coming from someone who had experienced a similar tragedy.
Again her gaze darted to the children, but they had tired of the grown-ups and were moving toward the television. Within moments they were fo-
cusing their attention on the television and the antics of Elmo and Big Bird.
"They were killed in a car accident. A drunk driver crossed the median and slammed into them head-on."
Ross winced.
"And your wife?" she breathed, needing to know.
"Cancer. She died soon after the twins were born." He looked at the children again. "How long have you had them?"
"They've been living with me for a year but I became their legal guardian six months ago." She wiped her palms down her dress, hoping that he wouldn't see they were moist.
"You were appointed their legal guardian?"
Her stomach twisted. "Yes. I've already begun formal adoption proceedings."
She wasn't sure if she should have offered the information, but she knew that Ross would find out the details of the arrangement soon enough. It would be better for all concerned if she were honest from the start.
"The children are dealing with the loss?"
"They seem to be. They miss their parents and occasionally ask for them, but the trauma of their deaths seems to be fading. They've even begun to call me Mommy rather than Auntie Cara."
Again she bit her
What would they do now? Had sharing the news with Ross eased the burden? Or had she merely acquired a whole new set of troubles?
But even as the thought came, Cara knew that there would have been no way to avoid the inevitable. Ross Gifford had a right to know the truth, and if she had delayed the news, she only would have made things worse.
When he remained silent, she asked, "What are you going to do now?"
"I don't know."
He stood and began to pace the narrow confines of the room. A deep line slashed between his brows. His strides were quick and powerful, and Cara had the impression of a tiger that had been unexpectedly caged.
"Your girls. What are their names?"
She didn't fault him for not remembering. His mind was probably still stuck on the discovery he'd just made.
"Heidi and Zoe."
"And the one who looks like my wife is..."
She felt something akin to a pang touch her heart. The one who looks like my wife. He spoke of his wife as if she were still alive.
"Zoe. Zoe is the redhead."
Tension settled into the muscles of her jaw, even though she told herself that she shouldn't feel threatened by the question. He wasn't making a claim on the child, he was just asking for information.
Wasn't he?
"Your brother and his wife. Did either of them have red hair?"
She shook her head. "We have no redheads in our family that we know of. Zoe's coloring always puzzled us. I guess now we know...or I know."
She bit her lip, reminded again that she was alone in making whatever decisions had to be made. The actions and responses she made from this moment on would determine much of the children's future.
Ross was pacing again. His features had grown
even harder, if that was possible, but Cara couldn't even guess at the emotions he must be feeling.
He must be a hell of a lawyer, she realized. If he was able to keep his thoughts so skillfully hidden, he must terrify his adversaries. She shivered, glad that she would not be facing this man on the witness' stand.
From the comer of her eye Cara noted that the children had returned and were watching Ross from the doorway. Their faces were smeared with chocolate and crumbs, and they had never looked more adorable to her.
"What were they like, your brother and sister?" Ross asked.
Cara flicked a glance from Ross to the children. "They were good people. My brother was sensitive and funny and smart. His wife was petite and clever and talented."
"What happened?" The question was offered without a shred of emotion. Cara had grown so accustomed to people offering their immediate sympathies that she found the question unnerving—especially when coming from someone who had experienced a similar tragedy.
Again her gaze darted to the children, but they had tired of the grown-ups and were moving toward the television. Within moments they were fo-
cusing their attention on the television and the antics of Elmo and Big Bird.
"They were killed in a car accident. A drunk driver crossed the median and slammed into them head-on."
Ross winced.
"And your wife?" she breathed, needing to know.
"Cancer. She died soon after the twins were born." He looked at the children again. "How long have you had them?"
"They've been living with me for a year but I became their legal guardian six months ago." She wiped her palms down her dress, hoping that he wouldn't see they were moist.
"You were appointed their legal guardian?"
Her stomach twisted. "Yes. I've already begun formal adoption proceedings."
She wasn't sure if she should have offered the information, but she knew that Ross would find out the details of the arrangement soon enough. It would be better for all concerned if she were honest from the start.
"The children are dealing with the loss?"
"They seem to be. They miss their parents and occasionally ask for them, but the trauma of their deaths seems to be fading. They've even begun to call me Mommy rather than Auntie Cara."
Again she bit her
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