you over to the couch.”
With firm hands, he drew her up from the rolling desk chair and with an arm at her waist, guided her to a long leather couch positioned along the far wall.
“Just sit and try to relax,” he ordered as he eased her small frame down. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Once she was safely settled, Conall hurriedly crossed the room and stepped into his private office, where he kept an assortment of drinks to offer visiting businessmen. After pouring a mug half-full of coffee, he splashed in a hefty amount of brandy and carried it out to her.
“Here,” he told her. “Drink this. All of it.”
With trembling hands wrapped around the heavy cup, she tilted the contents to her lips. After a few careful sips that made her gasp and cough, she lowered it and cast him an accusing glance.
“That has alcohol in it!”
“Not nearly enough,” he said dryly.
“It’s more than enough for me.” Straightening her shoulders, she offered the cup back to him. “Thank you. I can talk now.”
Relieved to see a faint bit of color returning to her face, Conall took the cup and after placing it on the floor, he eased down beside her. “All right,” he said gently. “Tell me what happened to your friend.”
Closing her eyes, she pressed slender fingers against her forehead. Conall couldn’t help but notice the long sweep of her lashes as they settled against her damp cheeks. Her complexion reminded him of a pink pearl bathed in golden sunlight and not for the first time he thought how her skin was the most fetching thing about her. Smooth and kissable.
Now why the hell was he thinking that sort of thing, especially at a time like this? Kissing a woman’s soft skin was all in his past. And that was where it was going to stay.
With her eyes still closed, she began to speak. “I became friends with Hope Benson not long after I arrived in Las Vegas. We both worked as cocktail waitresses in the Lucky Treasure casino.”
Conall was stunned. He’d not known that Vanessa had ever worked as a cocktail waitress. Not that it mattered. Everyone had to start somewhere. And she’d obviously climbed the ladder. A few months ago, when she’d left Nevada, she’d been a private secretary to a casino executive.
“I didn’t realize you ever worked as a waitress,” he mused, speaking his thoughts out loud.
The guttural sound in her throat was self-deprecating. “What did you expect, Conall? I left Hondo Valley with nothing. It took lots of long, hard hours to put myself through college.”
Of course he’d known that Vanessa was from a poor family. She was the same age as his sister Maura, and the two women had been good friends ever since elementary school. During those years, Vanessa had often visited the ranch. Being two years older, Conall hadn’t paid much attention to her. With the house full of six Donovan kids, there were always plenty of friends hanging around and Vanessa had simply been one more. The main thing he recalled about her was that she’d been very quiet, almost to the point of being a wallflower.
After Conall had gone away to college, he’d heard in passing that Vanessa had moved to Nevada. That had been fifteen years ago and since then he’d not heard anything else about his sister’s old friend. In fact, she’d completely slipped his mind until two months ago, when she’d called him about the secretarial job.
She’d moved back to Hondo Valley to stay, she’d told him, and she was looking for a job. He was secretly ashamed to admit that he’d not expected Vanessa to be qualified. As a teenager, she’d seemed like the shy, homemaker sort, who’d want to devote her life to raising a house full of kids and keeping a husband happy. He couldn’t imagine her as a career woman. But out of courtesy to his sister, he’d invited her to come out to the ranch for an interview. When she’d walked into his office, Conall had been stunned to see a very professional young woman presenting him with an equally impressive résumé. He’d hired her on the spot and since that time had not once regretted his decision.
The soft sigh escaping her lips caught his attention and he watched her eyes open, then level on his face. For the moment her tears had disappeared, but in their place he saw something that amounted to panic. A strange emotion to be experiencing over a friend’s demise, he couldn’t help thinking.
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to sound defensive. God knows how He’s blessed me. And now… I just don’t know what to think, Conall. You see, Hope was pregnant. Something happened after she went into labor—I’m not exactly sure what. The lawyer didn’t go into details. Except that she had to have an emergency C-section. Shortly afterward, she died from some sort of complications. I assume it had something to do with her heart condition—a genetic childhood thing. But she always appeared healthy and I thought the doctors were keeping everything under control. In fact, each time I’d talked with her, she’d assured me that she and the babies were doing fine.”
Conall’s attention latched on to one word. “Babies? Are you talking plural?”
Vanessa nodded. “Twins. A boy and a girl. They were born three days ago and Hope’s lawyer has just now had a chance to go over the legalities of her will and wishes.”
“And what does this have to do with you?” Conall asked.
Across the room the telephone on Vanessa’s desk began to ring. She started to rise to answer it, but Conall caught her shoulder with a firm hand. “Forget the phone,” he ordered. “Whoever it is will call back or leave a message. I want to hear the rest of this.”
Groaning, Vanessa dropped her head and shook it back and forth as though she was in a dream. “It’s unbelievable, Conall! Hope wanted me to have custody of her babies. I—I’m to be their mother.”
“Mother?” The word burst from Conall’s mouth before he could stop it. “Are you… serious?”
Her head shot up and for a brief moment she scowled at him. “Very serious. Why? Do you think I’m incapable of being a mother?”
A grimace tightened his lips. Leave it to a woman to misread his words, he thought. “I don’t doubt your abilities, Vanessa. I’m sure you have… great motherly instincts. I was questioning the validity of your friend’s wishes. Isn’t the father around?”
Her shoulders slumped as she thrust a shaky hand through her hair. “The father was only in Hope’s life for a brief period before they went their separate ways. When she learned that she was pregnant, she contacted him with the news, but he wanted nothing to do with her or the babies. Seems as though he was already paying a hefty amount of child support to his ex-wife and he wasn’t keen on adding more to his responsibilities. By then Hope had already come to the conclusion that he wasn’t the sort of man she’d ever want back in her life. And she certainly didn’t want him to have any claims to the babies. When she confronted him with legal documents, he was only too glad to sign away his parental rights.”
“What a bastard,” Conall muttered.
Vanessa sighed. “I knew she was making a mistake when she first got involved with the creep. But she really fell hard for him. Poor thing, she believed he loved her and she desperately wanted a big family. You see, she was adopted and didn’t have many relatives.”
“What about her parents?”
“If you mean her real parents, she never looked for them. She considered the Bensons to be her true parents. But when Hope was still very young, they were killed in the Loma Prieta earthquake in California,” she said ruefully. “Luckily, Hope escaped being physically injured, but I don’t think she ever got over the emotional loss of her parents.”
“Damn. Sounds like your friend didn’t have an easy life.”
“No. Life is never easy for some,” she sadly agreed. “Hope was forty-two. She figured this would be her last and only chance to have children. That’s why she risked carrying the babies. Even