THE END OF THE WEEK dragged. Meredith spent two days at the restaurant and then returned to Great-Aunt Mary’s house in the evenings, where Mr. Smith was organizing the meals and housekeeping and watching over Blake. She’d taken him out of kindergarten for the week, so that they could be together.

Hiding Blake and Smith at the house was the hard thing. The rental car had to be parked nearby in a neighbor’s driveway, with permission. Blake could only play outside in the backyard, which had a high privacy fence. He couldn’t even be seen in the window. That put a strain on things, but Meredith was so delighted to have him with her that she managed it with a minimum of stress.

Meanwhile, she worked in the restaurant and at the desk in the library at night, coordinating what McGee found out from Ms. Sanderson with the information she gleaned from other sources. Cy was being sold down the river by Don and a director named Bill, but that was going to have to wait. Right now those mineral leases were too important for diversions of any kind. She had to work fast, to get all the proxies in before the board of directors met Monday night.

She called her office from Mary’s house during her lunch breaks, and by sitting down at her desk in the evenings, she got through at least half her workload. She phoned clients at home at night to advise them of progress on various projects, then talked and read stories to Blake. Meredith and her son were enjoying a closeness they’d never really had, in between her work. The pace in Billings was slower, and she enjoyed the feeling of time it gave her. She wondered vaguely what it would be like to live here, to raise Blake in this wonderful place, to let him grow up where she had. Her childhood had been a happy one, in most ways. The death of her parents before she started school had been painful, but Great-Aunt Mary and Great-Uncle Raven-Walking had been very special substitutes. They’d loved and protected her, and she missed them even now.

Cy had been out of town, thank God, as long as she had. He still hadn’t come around by the time she reported back to work. But Myrna showed up Saturday, and Meredith had to force herself to go to the woman’s table and pretend nothing was wrong.

Myrna didn’t look as if she were gloating. She couldn’t quite meet Meredith’s eyes, either. “Why did you change your mind?” she asked.

“Because Cy doesn’t want me anymore,” Meredith said bluntly. She couldn’t very well admit her own fears about what might happen if Cy found out about Blake.

Myrna looked up at her. “He’s brooding,” she said. “It’s been much worse this past week. He looks at me, but he doesn’t see me. He doesn’t hear what I say to him.” She gnawed her lower lip. “He said…that he told you about his…father.”

So that was it. Myrna was afraid that Meredith might talk about it, and damage the oh, so unblemished Harden name.

“You needn’t worry,” Meredith said coldly. “Your family skeletons aren’t of enough interest to me to gossip about them.”

Myrna frowned slightly and looked up.

“Wasn’t that why you came?” she asked the older woman. “To make sure I didn’t say anything?”

Myrna started to speak, but before she could, Cy entered the restaurant with his redhead on his arm, forcing himself to look infatuated as he led Lara to the table where his mother sat. Myrna looked as surprised as Meredith did, but Meredith wasn’t watching the older woman’s face and didn’t see it.

“So this is where you are,” Cy said curtly, glaring down at his mother with barely a reluctant glance at Meredith. “You were to have lunch at the house with Lara and me. It’s waiting.”

“Oh!” Myrna was flustered. It was the first time she’d ever forgotten a dinner engagement. Of course, this Lara person Cy was squiring around was hardly an improvement on Meredith. The woman was nobody’s idea of high society. She had money, true enough, but she had no breeding and a tongue like a rapier. Myrna heartily disliked her. She couldn’t prevent that from showing, either, as she deferred to Cy and allowed him to half drag her from the restaurant.

Meredith watched them go with a sinking heart. Well, she’d known he was seeing Lara, why should she let it hurt? She had much more important things on her mind.

She pleaded a headache and left the restaurant. It didn’t matter now if Mrs. Dade fired her. Today was her last day anyway. She’d only kept the job to allay suspicions at this critical time anyway.

 

BACK AT THE ELEGANT Harden home, Cy seated Lara next to his mother and then slid onto a chair himself. The maids served, and Cy glared as Lara complained about the weak coffee.

“Why were you at the restaurant?” he asked his mother suspiciously. “Still trying to protect me?”

Myrna faltered. “No. I…I…”

“I thought we were going to the penthouse for lunch,” Lara muttered at Cy, ignoring the innuendo around her. “And you didn’t mention coming here until you saw your mother’s car in town.”

Myrna was taken aback. So she hadn’t forgotten. She wondered what Cy’s motives were and wondered if confronting Meredith with Lara had played a part.

“Never mind, baby,” Cy told the redhead. He glared across at his mother. “Answer me. Why were you there? What are you and Meredith hiding?”

“I just want a salad,” Lara told one of the maids haughtily, glaring at the beef and potatoes and beans in bowls on the spotless linen tablecloth. “With blue cheese dressing, on the side. I don’t want it on the salad. And bring me a Perrier to drink.”

“You’ll starve on that,” Cy remarked quietly.

“You’ll get fat,” Lara countered. “And beef is bad for you. You shouldn’t eat it.”

He was gritting his teeth. “You’ve forgotten that I still own a ranch?”

Lara bristled. “How cruel. I’ll bet you brand the poor cattle. I belong to several animal rights organizations—”

“Not now,” he said firmly, and the threat in his dark eyes stopped Lara in midsentence. “Besides, I won’t get fat eating lean cuts of beef. I’m not a growing boy anymore.”

“Oh, you are at times,” Lara purred outrageously.

Myrna looked aghast.

Cy looked at Lara with banked-down fury. He hadn’t meant to bring her here. He hadn’t really meant to take her by the restaurant. He’d wanted Meredith to think that she was having an affair with him, but it wasn’t true. He hadn’t touched a woman since Meredith came back to Billings. He couldn’t. But there was no way he could admit that now, even if he was bitterly regretting what he’d said to Meredith last Sunday. All he’d thought about since was how he was going to feel when she walked out of his life again. Bringing Lara to the restaurant was a last-ditch attempt to smoke out Meredith’s feelings, to see if she still cared despite the way he’d hurt her. One sign, one indication of her interest, and he was ready to put aside his misgivings and give their relationship a real chance. But Meredith hadn’t seemed to notice, or care, that Lara was with him.

His thoughts were interrupted by his mother’s icy glare. “I have to see about the invitations to that charity tea I’m giving,” Myrna said stiffly, rising. “Enjoy your lunch, Cy. I’ll…see you again sometime, I hope, Lara,” she lied, her eyes troubled as she left them there.

Cy watched his mother leave with mixed emotions. “I wish to God I knew what was going on.”

“I guess I embarrassed her,” Lara said on a laugh. “Doesn’t she know you sleep with women?” she asked Cy bluntly.

“I don’t sleep with you, and you damned well know it,” he said, his tone cold and threatening. He got up. “I’ll take you home.”

“For heaven’s sake, I just said…!” Lara protested as he grasped her arm.

“Let’s go,” he muttered.

 

FOR THE REST OF THE DAY, Meredith worried about Myrna Harden’s visit. She wondered what the older woman had been about to say to her. But it no longer mattered. All she wanted to do was spring her trap on Cy and get out of Billings. She’d already wasted too much energy and time on a plan that hardly added to her credibility with the firm. Henry would have been ashamed of her for letting personal feelings interfere with the running of his business, despite the fact that she’d come to her senses. But her lapse could still provide Don with enough ammunition to take her on at her own board meeting and win control of the domestic branch.

She phoned him that Sunday night. “You are coming out for the meeting tomorrow?” she asked.

“That’s the plan. I’ve got those proxies, and I’ve been the rounds of the directors. I’m cautiously optimistic that we can carry a vote.”

She hoped that he didn’t plan to sell her out, and Cy with her, at the meeting. She had to trust to luck on that matter. “I’ll settle for the threat,” she said. “If we can use the vote as leverage to get those mineral leases, force Cy into agreeing, I’ll be satisfied.”

There was a long pause. “I thought the whole point of the thing was to absorb Harden Properties?”

“I don’t really care that much about taking over the operation, not if it’s going to mean sacrificing half our domestic profits to accomplish it. The mineral rights are all we really need, and from what I can find out, Cy has the confidence of his directors. Even if I gain control, I won’t be able to oust him and install my own managerial people.” She paused to let that sink in. It might give him pause, hold him off until she could decide how to proceed. “Besides that, his company is in a good financial position to resist a takeover. It’s operating in the black. The shares are commanding a good market price, and his reputation is keeping the company solvent.”

“You’ve done your homework,” Don remarked. “Yes, all that is true. And we’d have to go anywhere from twenty to thirty dollars a share over the market price in an offering to buy out the company. Hardly a sound financial move in our own present slump.”

“I agree. But by expanding our mineral holdings, we could close the deficit and manage a tidy profit. There’s a new use for molybdenum that our research people are sitting on right now. If we can get our hands on one mine, we stand to mop up when the demand hits. Moly production is at an all-time low right now, but the Concord Mining Company is still producing moly, and with the lease on that old Wellington property for which Harden Properties holds the mineral rights, we’d be sitting pretty.”

“You’re sure you want to go through with this, Kip?” Don asked quietly.

“No,” she said. “But I’ve wasted too much time and energy to back off now. It’s not a vendetta anymore, if that helps. I don’t really have to have Cy Harden’s head on a stick. I just want his molybdenum rights.”

There was a pregnant pause. “In that case, things may work out very well. I’ll be out there tomorrow. Can I bring you anything?”

“No thanks. I’ll see you then.”

The next day went by so slowly that she was actually seeing the seconds pass.

She wandered out into the backyard, where Mr. Smith and Blake were tossing a ball in the cold wind.

“Isn’t it great here, Mommy?” Blake asked, laughing. “A real backyard! And Mr. Smith says there’s a park. Can we go there?”

“Not today,” Meredith said without smiling. “In a day or two.”

“Aw, gee,” he muttered. “Okay.”

She smiled at his annoyance. He didn’t understand that she couldn’t risk having him seen just yet. Cy didn’t know about him. She had to find a way to get him out of Billings before Myrna spilled the beans. But right now, she had priorities.

She glanced at her watch, grimacing. Don would be here in less than an hour. She had things to do.

She went upstairs and laid out her clothes meticulously. She couldn’t afford to be anything less than elegant tonight, self-possessed and businesslike. But her mouth was dry and her legs felt like rubber.

The atmosphere became a little strained when Don arrived, especially when Tiny, Mr. Smith’s big green iguana, came padding into the living room to see who the newcomer was.

“Why don’t you make a hatband out of that thing?” Don muttered.

Mr. Smith picked up Tiny and let her sit on his shoulder, glaring at Don as he went upstairs with Blake to help him dress.

“Not a wise diplomatic move,” Meredith mused, watching Don.

“I hate that thing,” he replied tautly, glancing at his Rolex watch. “Shouldn’t you be dressing?”

“I suppose so,” she said reluctantly. “Funny, you get something you’ve always wanted, always waited for. And when the moment comes, it tastes like ashes.”

Don glanced at her curiously. “It isn’t as if you had a choice. Harden made it for you when he refused you the leases. I read your report,” he added a little uncomfortably. “And I have to agree that it would be unproductive financially to pursue molybdenum anywhere but in Montana, where we have easy access to mineral processing.”

She was taken aback. “I’m surprised.”

He shrugged. “I know good business when I see it. You may have had less than laudable motives to start out, but you’ve got good business sense about acquisitions. Harden Properties would make a nice addition to our portfolio of companies.”

“Yes, it would,” she said, but she didn’t mean it. She didn’t really want Cy’s company. Did Don? Her eyes narrowed. She’d have to keep an eye on him, a really close one. Maybe she owed Cy that, out of old memories if nothing else.

She showered and changed into a brand-new Guy Laroche tailored silk suit in a light blue, with a delicately embroidered silk blouse to match it. She wore leather pumps and put her hair in an elegant high coiffure, sweeping the blond mass back to her nape and securing it with combs. She looked in the mirror, approving the image.

Blake was wearing a suit, too, and he glared at her when she joined him downstairs, along with Mr. Smith in his chauffeur’s uniform and a sedately suited Don Tennison.

“Why do I have to wear a suit, Mommy?” he muttered. “And I don’t want to go out, I want to watch television.”

“Sorry, my darling, but I need Mr. Smith and you can’t stay here alone.” She bent and kissed him warmly. “I’ll make sure we have plenty of time together later. Okay?”

He grimaced. “Okay, I guess.”

Don nodded as he studied her. “You’ll do,” he said. “Very much the Tennison executive.”

She smiled. “I’m glad you approve.” She glanced at her diamond-studded gold Rolex. “Well, it’s almost seven,” she said with butterflies flapping in her stomach. “Shall we go?”

“We might as well. You didn’t want to be in on the beginning of the meeting, I gather?”

“No need,” she replied. “As you said, they’ll buzz our cellular phone when it’s time for the vote. We’ll present our proxies and make our bid and see what happens.”

“Fair enough.”

The Harden Properties building was ablaze with lights. Cy Harden and Myrna were already seated in the boardroom, recovering from a delicious buffet arranged by the caterer. It was good business, Cy’s father had said, to feed men before you asked them to die for you on the corporate battlefield. So the policy had continued.

Cy was thinking about Meredith. Staying away from her had only made his hunger for her worse. He knew now that there was no question of substitutes. He wasn’t going to let go of her. He was gearing up for action, and when he had this absurd takeover off his mind, he was going to do nothing but think up ways to get Meredith back.

He wanted to try again, to start over. But before he could go to Meredith’s house and tell her that, urgent business had intervened, necessitating an out-of-town trip. When he got back, it was to learn that he was under the threat of a hostile takeover from Tennison International and that proxies had been obtained steadily, along with outstanding stock. The company was in a fragile position, and trying to block the takeover was absorbing all his spare time.

“Have you been able to reach Don Tennison?” he asked one of his directors.

“He’ll be here,” came the quiet reply. “Is he behind this takeover, do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Cy said instantly. He glanced at the man. “Do you have any idea who’s after us?” he asked.

“Indeed I do. I think it’s Henry Tennison’s widow,” the director said wryly. “She’s one sharp lady. Runs the entire domestic branch of the corporation, and makes money hand over fist. They say Henry groomed her himself, had her tutored for years. She’s as sharp as they come, and she’s adamant about obtaining those mineral leases. We’re standing in the way of her expansion plans, which could work to her disadvantage with her board of directors. They want results.”

“I’m adamant about not giving them to her,” he replied. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some flighty rich widow come out here and tell me what to do with my own company.”

“She’s not flighty,” the man murmured. “If she was, Don Tennison would be running the whole show. They say he stands in her shadow.”

“Not a comfortable place to be,” Cy mused.

The man nodded, turning to greet the rest of the board members as they filed in and took their places.

The big black limousine parked in front of the Harden Properties building waited until the cellular phone buzzed. Then Meredith kissed Blake’s cheek and climbed out of the car.

She was wearing a cashmere coat, a heather-and-gray shade that enhanced her exquisite complexion. She walked just ahead of Don into the building toward the boardroom with his hand at her elbow.

“Nervous?” he asked as they paused at the closed door.

She looked up at him. “Not now,” she replied. “Ironic, isn’t it? I should be shaking, but it’s suddenly very flat. I almost feel sorry for him.”

He nodded. He opened the door and they walked in.

She could see Cy and his mother sitting at the head and right of the long board table, through a room filled with people and smoke. Cy noticed Meredith and his brows drew together, like his mother’s.

The director who was speaking nodded toward Don. “There’s a new order of business tonight,” he said, directing his comments to Cy. “We’ve been approached by Tennison International with a takeover bid. I’ll turn the floor over to Don Tennison, if there are no objections, and we’ll hear his offer.”

“No objections at all,” Cy said with faint humor, his eyes going to Don with a conspiratorial gleam and then to Meredith with clear puzzlement. “But I’d like to know why we need a waitress tonight,” he added, unreasonably irritated to find her in the company of Don Tennison. She was his!

Meredith was the only one, besides Myrna and Don, who got the joke. She didn’t reply. She simply smiled at Cy, her mind whirling with his insults, his easy seduction, his treachery. The evening suddenly bubbled with evil possibilities, and she found herself looking forward to her role in it. Her anger at Myrna took second place to dishing out a little unpleasantness for Cy. God knew he deserved it. He’d hurt her enough in the past.

Cy clasped his big hands on the table in front of him when Meredith didn’t reply, his gaze going to his directors. “It’ll take more than a bid to unseat me, as you’re damned well about to find out.”

“Now, Cy, it isn’t your leadership we’re questioning,” the director named Bill stammered, red-faced. “It’s just that many of us feel you’re being deliberately obstructive about these mineral leases.”

“I’m entitled to be obstructive,” Cy raged. “Or has it slipped your notice that Henry Tennison did everything in his power to put us out of business up until his death?”

Meredith hadn’t known that. She glanced at Don, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“That has nothing to do with today’s business,” Bill continued, refusing to back down. “At least let the rest of us hear what Don has to say.”

Cy leaned back in his chair, aware of his mother’s curiosity as she stared at Meredith. He stared at her, too.

“I think I mentioned that this meeting is for stockholders only,” he said, bitterly angry to find Meredith in the company of a Tennison, and dressed like that, in luxurious garments that she certainly couldn’t afford on what he paid her to waitress at his restaurant. Was she involved with Don? Was he her friend in Chicago instead of Smith? It was puzzling, and he knew damned well Meredith didn’t own any stock in Harden Properties. So why was she here? “You’re a little out of your element, aren’t you, Meredith?” he asked coolly.

“Am I?” she murmured sweetly and with a smile.

“Is she with you?” Cy asked Don.

“It’s rather the other way around, I’m afraid,” Don said quietly. And he sat down, leaving Meredith to put her attaché case on the table and address the board.

“Sorry to spring this on you, gentlemen,” she said in a clear, cold, businesslike tone, “but your president and CEO—” she glanced at a puzzled Cy “—has my back to the wall. We have to diversify. I need those mineral leases, and you’ve left me no alternative but to deal under the table to get them.”

Cy sat up straighter, aware of his mother’s shock and wide-eyed tension beside him. “What do you mean, we?” Cy asked, his very tone a threat.

“Haven’t I introduced myself?” she asked pleasantly. “I’m sorry.” She smiled, her cool gaze encompassing not only Cy, but his mother as well. “I’m Kip Tennison,” she said, waiting for the impact to register, “Henry Tennison’s widow. I’m vice president and chief executive officer of Tennison International’s domestic operation.”

The look on Cy’s face was worth it all, she thought briefly. Worth six years of grief and anguish, worth all the pain. Myrna looked white in the face and near to fainting. But Meredith couldn’t afford to take pleasure in the shock she’d handed out. She had business to conduct.

So she conducted it, her calm voice detailing the bid, outlining exactly what changes would be made, naming a price and sticking to it despite the outcry from the directors.

“You won’t take over my company,” Cy said coldly.

She lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, I will,” she returned, her voice equally cold. “I have the necessary proxies. I can outvote you.”

“You don’t have my great-uncle’s….”

She shot it across the table to him with chilling efficiency, watching his face stiffen.

“But, he wouldn’t!” Myrna gasped.

“Your father’s brother doesn’t have a very high opinion of either of you, Mrs. Harden,” Meredith said easily. “I’m afraid he would, and has. That ten percent of your stock puts me over the edge. It gives me the votes I need to gain control of the company, unless your attorneys can pull a rabbit out of the hat for you.” She picked up her materials and closed them up in her attaché case with apparent unconcern. “I want those mineral leases,” she said, her hard gray eyes staring straight into Cy’s with determination and pure power. “I’ll have them, even if I have to take over your company to get them. You can let me know your decision. I’d appreciate it by the first of next week. I have a government contract to fill, and if necessary, I’ll have the appropriate agency intercede as well. I imagine you already know that the government doesn’t like to be kept waiting for military hardware, especially right now.”

She stood up and motioned to Don. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen,” she said smoothly. “I’ll be in touch. Good evening.”

She left the room with Don close behind, smiling a little secretively as she heard the outburst that exploded behind them when the doors closed.

Cy didn’t move. He barely breathed. Lightning flashed in his mind as he put all the things that had puzzled him into sequence and realised that Meredith had played him for a fool. Henry Tennison’s widow, working for wages in a restaurant. Someday he might even be able to laugh about that irony.

Myrna touched his hand and he jumped, tension rippling through him.

“She’s why Henry Tennison tried to destroy us,” Myrna said through numb lips. “It was because of Meredith!”

Gossip filtered through his consciousness. Henry Tennison’s devotion to his young wife, his obsession to protect her. Meredith had been Tennison’s wife, married to him. He was the man she’d said had loved her….

“God,” he breathed, choking on the pain. He’d chased her away, and she’d somehow met and married one of the wealthiest men in the world. Now she was the worst enemy he had on earth, and if he wasn’t careful, she was going to destroy him.

“I’m sorry,” Myrna said tearfully. She gnawed her lower lip. “It’s my fault. All my fault….”

He barely heard his mother and didn’t understand what she was saying anyway. He was hurting as he’d never dreamed he could. He’d told Meredith that she could never fit into his lifestyle, that she didn’t have the sophistication. And she could buy and sell him. How she must have laughed.

She was as far out of his reach now as he’d been out of hers six years before. She was Henry Tennison’s widow. She had an empire of her own and an incredible fortune to go with it. The means for a vicious revenge was in her hands, and she’d used it tonight. He closed his eyes. He’d thought she might still love him, despite everything. But she’d just shown him what she felt. She’d played him like a big fish, and now she was reeling him in. None of it had been real. Her only thought had been revenge, probably even when she was giving herself to him. She’d known that it would make the pain so much worse, to remember that and know that the only reason she’d done it was to keep him so interested in her that he hadn’t realized the game she was playing. He’d been falling in love all over again, while Meredith had merely been hedging her bets for a hostile takeover. He got up and went to the window, looking out blindly. Somehow the threat of losing his company was nothing compared to the pain of Meredith’s betrayal. It came to him without warning that this was how she must have felt six years ago….

It was thirty minutes later when Mr. Smith finally arrived for an impatient Meredith and Don, having had, of all things, a flat. That meant they were still waiting when Cy and Myrna Harden came out of the boardroom themselves and out into the lobby. It took all of Meredith’s nerve not to back away from Cy when he came toward her with eyes as cold as death. She’d played her hand, now she had to back it up. She couldn’t afford to show weakness.

“My God, was it all part of the plan?” he demanded of her, his dark eyes blazing.

She knew what he meant. She smiled, lifting an eyebrow. “Weren’t you the one who used to say that in business, nothing is sacred?”

“Answer me, you female barracuda!” he said under his breath.

She looked past him to a shattered Myrna Harden with hardly any interest except a quiet, dull pity. She felt vaguely ashamed of herself.

“Yes,” she said without emotion, lying to save her pride. “It was all part of the plan.”

The contempt in his face was almost too much to bear, but she couldn’t let him see how much she still cared. It was too late, and she had responsibilities she couldn’t shirk. Worse, she had a child to protect. Letting Cy too close now could cost her Blake. Her eyes widened as she realized with horror that Mr. Smith, unaware of the undercurrents, was bringing Blake to the door!

She froze as the door opened and Blake came running in ahead of Mr. Smith.

“Mommy, we had a flat tire!” Blake told the world, holding out his arms to be picked up.

Meredith stooped to lift him into her arms, holding him far too tight, her eyes frightened as she held him. “My little man, were you worried about being late?” she asked, trying not to let the fear show. She knew without looking that Cy and Myrna were gaping at the child.

“Yes, and Mr. Smith said some very bad words. You must speak with him,” he said in his adult tones.

Meredith would have laughed at that ordinarily, but this really wasn’t any time for humor.

Cy was staring at her with venomous anger, as he realized that not only had she gone from him to another man, she’d had a child by that man. She was holding Henry Tennison’s son, and he hated her for it.

Even more did he hate the burly man standing close beside her, looking overtly protective and threatening. “You’re Smith, of course,” Cy said coldly, eyeing the older man with fury as he realized who he had to be—Meredith’s bodyguard.

“You’re Harden, of course,” came the gravelly reply.

Sensing trouble, Meredith got between them, but in her disturbed condition she hadn’t counted on the effect Blake’s presence was going to have on Myrna Harden. Cy might not have noticed the resemblance, but his mother certainly did, and she knew that Meredith had been pregnant when she left Billings—Cy did not. Myrna stared at the child with eyes gone huge in a face like rice paper. And without warning, she slumped to the floor in a dead faint.

Cy ran to her, his concern obvious. Meredith felt guilty, because it was her fault. She’d sprung more than enough surprises on Myrna tonight, even if she hadn’t really meant to produce Blake. That had been an accident. But for the flat tire, Myrna would never have seen the boy at all. She didn’t dare think about the consequences now, or she’d go mad!

She gave Blake to Mr. Smith and knelt beside Cy, her cool fingers going to the pulse in the older woman’s neck. The pulse was steady and regular, if a little weak.

“Shock,” Cy said curtly, glaring at Meredith. “God knows she’s had enough for one night. Cold as ice, aren’t you, honey?”

She didn’t react. Her eyes met his levelly. “Business isn’t for the fainthearted,” she replied. “Henry taught me how to play the game. I was a good student.”

“You’ll need to be,” was all he said, but the way he looked at her made her nervous.

He got up to call an ambulance, leaving Meredith to look after Myrna. The older woman opened her eyes briefly, while the directors, all male, stood around trying not to look stupid. They had no idea what to do, leaving Meredith to it.

“The…child,” she gasped, her fingernails biting into Meredith’s hand, her eyes tormented. “The…child, Meredith!”

“Try not to move around,” Meredith said quietly. “You’ll be all right.”

Tears blurred the older woman’s eyes, making Meredith feel even worse than she already did. “I’m…sorry,” she got out before her eyes closed again.

“So am I,” Meredith said dully, her face going hard as she confronted the result of her attempt to play God. Justifying her actions was going to be harder than she’d ever dreamed. If anything happened to Myrna, there would be no stopping Cy. What had seemed simple before was now a complicated, horrible mess.

The ambulance seemed to take forever, and Cy paced and smoked when he wasn’t accusing Meredith silently and verbally for his mother’s incapacity. When it arrived he ushered the attendants in and stood guard over them while they loaded his mother into the ambulance. Then he climbed in beside her, leaving the directors and Meredith and all the threats behind.

He held his mother’s cold hand as they roared toward the hospital, his mind whirling with new knowledge. Meredith had certainly found her feet, he thought bitterly. Kip Tennison. Henry’s wife. Henry Tennison’s hidden treasure. And as his mother had said, probably the reason Tennison had tried so hard to bury him. He’d been carrying out Kip’s revenge, Meredith’s revenge, for the pain and anguish he’d caused her.

He’d pushed her out of his life and sent her running apparently right into Henry Tennison’s arms. So much for her profession of love, he thought bitterly. She’d loved him so much that she’d married another man almost immediately and given him a child. He hadn’t known who Kip Tennison was, but he’d certainly heard about her. It was common knowledge in business circles that Henry Tennison’s devotion to his business came a poor second after devotion to his pretty young wife. They said Henry had kept her hidden from all eyes but his own, he was so besotted with her. There were also rumors that his devotion was returned, that no one believed Kip had married him for any reason other than love.

The gossip hadn’t been of much interest to him at the time. Now it assumed paramount importance. Meredith had remarried, had been desperately in love, her husband had died. And there was, obviously, fruit of that love. He’d watched the little dark-haired boy running to her, heard him call her “Mommy.” Something in him turned to ashes at the memory. He’d rarely ever thought of children, but when he had, they were always his and Meredith’s. The pain almost doubled him over as he realized how complete her revenge was.

A moan caught his attention. He lifted his mother’s blue-veined hand in his and held tight. “Hello,” he said gently, smiling down at her.

She moaned again. Tears were staining her cheeks. “Cy, the child,” she whispered. “Did you see…the child?”

He scowled in concern. She must be rambling. “Mother, how do you feel?”

“What?” She opened her eyes wider and looked at him. “I fainted.”

“Yes, you did,” he said. “We’re on the way to the hospital.”

“But it was just a faint.”

“We’ll let the doctor tell us that,” he told her firmly. “You just lie back and be still. You’ll be all right now.”

She clenched her fingers around his. “Meredith,” she began.

“Quite a surprise, wasn’t it?” he asked, his voice bitter. “I actually gave her a job waitressing. She could buy the restaurant out of her petty cash fund, if their last annual statement was any indication of the corporation’s assets.”

Myrna was just beginning to realize that. Her bribe of twenty thousand dollars must have amused Meredith no end. She hadn’t known, hadn’t dreamed, who Meredith was. Now the surprise continued to echo through her frail body like a gunshot. The past had caught up with her. Not only had Meredith borne Cy’s child, she still had him. Cy didn’t know. He assumed that the little boy was Henry Tennison’s, and if Myrna told him the truth, her own guilt would have to be revealed. It would mean destroying their tenuous relationship. Worse, it would lock the child into a custody battle the likes of which the Hardens and Tennisons had never seen.

Could she do that, even to obtain her grandchild? Could she allow the little boy to become nothing more than a pawn, to satisfy her hunger for a grandchild, for Cy’s son to carry on the Harden name?

She put a hand over her face. So much deceit. So many lies. Meredith had said that it was finished, that her thirst for revenge was over. She obviously planned to take the child back home with her and forget about Cy and Myrna. But now Myrna couldn’t forget. She had a grandson whom she would never know. Cy had a son whose very existence was unknown to him. That was Myrna’s fault. He wouldn’t forget, how could he? But by withholding the information, she would be damaging him even more than she already had.

“Don’t worry so,” he chided, bending to kiss her forehead. Her consciousness gave him hope, relieving some of the strain of worry on his hard face. “I’m not going to sit back and let Meredith take our company away.”

“I never thought you would,” Myrna whispered. Her eyes closed. “Even if it would be no less than I deserved….”

He frowned, but she was drifting in and out again, and he let it go. Her behavior worried him. It wasn’t like his mother to let things get her down, but Meredith’s revelation had affected her more than anything else in recent years. In fact, Meredith’s very presence in Billings had upset her. He wondered what secret the two women shared that had driven Meredith to secrecy and plotting, that had reduced his mother to a frightened shell. But before he could worry the subject too much, they were pulling into the emergency room parking lot.

In the car back to Mary’s house, Meredith sat on the seat next to Blake.

“That lady fainted, Mommy,” he said. “Why did she faint? Did I scare her?”

“No, darling, she’d just had a shock,” Meredith said stiffly. “Now sit here like a good boy and listen to your new tape.” She plugged the headphones in for him.

“Didn’t she know about Blake?” Don asked Meredith.

“Not until tonight, not for sure, anyway,” she said wearily. “I never meant for her to know at all. If it hadn’t been for the flat tire, I was just going to pack up and leave town.”

“Tough break,” he said.

“Yes.” She lifted her eyes to his. “Will the board go for our offer?”

“I doubt it,” he said, but with an odd uneasiness. He stretched. “They’ll bulldoze Cy into those mineral leases, but I don’t think they’ll go along with new management or yield to a hostile takeover. Not even at the price we’re offering.” Not yet, anyway, he was thinking. He still had plans, and neither Meredith nor Cy could be allowed to know what they were until he was ready to spring his own surprise on both of them.

“As long as something good comes out of this, I don’t mind,” she said.

“You look drawn,” he murmured, his expression faintly guilty. “This has been rough on you, hasn’t it?”

She didn’t look at him. “Yes. I…didn’t mean to upset Mrs. Harden that much. I didn’t think—”

“She’ll be all right.”

“Oh, Don, I do hope so,” she said, remembering Cy’s pained face. Even though things between them were strained and hostile, she didn’t really want to cause him any more anguish.

Later that night she phoned the hospital, to be told that Mrs. Harden was simply suffering from exhaustion and was doing very well. It was the only bright spot in a horrible day.

At least she hadn’t caused Cy’s mother to have a heart attack. But now she had another problem. Myrna had seen Blake. Would she tell Cy the truth? And if she did, what then?