baby, Chloe could only reason Vanessa still held some attraction for him.
“I still can’t get over how much Grady and Ben look alike.” Vanessa gave Chloe an arched look as she fiddled with the sheets draped over Ben’s body.
“They do look similar,” Chloe murmured, trying to find an opportunity to make her escape while her stepsister chattered away.
“Similar? They are like two peas in a pod,” Vanessa said, her narrowed gaze flicking from Ben to Grady. “If it weren’t for Ben being flat on his back, you’d never know the difference. And did you know that twins have identical DNA?” she asked, turning to the cards on the windowsill.
And why did Vanessa think she needed to impart that particular piece of information?
“I’ll leave you to visit with your brother,” Chloe said, taking another step toward the door.
To her surprise and shock, Grady touched her arm, as if trying to make a connection. “It’s good to see you,” Grady said, lowering his voice. His eyes held hers.
Unable to look away, Chloe felt her heart quicken. Then a faint queasiness gripped her. Vanessa called out again and she dismissed the emotion as quickly as it came.
Vanessa claimed that Grady was the father of her child.
And Chloe had enough problems of her own.
* * *
Chloe’s reaction to his wound still stung.
Grady fitted his crutch under his arm and made his way over the snow-covered sidewalk to the ranch house. The chill January wind biting into his face promised bitter weather to come and seemed to sum up how he felt. Vanessa had driven him in her car to the hospital. Grandma Mamie’s car and Ben’s truck filled the garage, which meant they had to park it outside.
All the way home he replayed that moment when he’d stepped into his brother’s hospital room. He would have had to be blind not to have seen Chloe recoil from him.
Not that he blamed her. A crippled soldier and, according to Vanessa, the father of a child born out of wedlock. A child from her own stepsister.
Grady knew Cody wasn’t his, and though part of him wanted to tell Chloe, he knew it was neither the time nor place; he wasn’t even sure if it mattered to her. He was still frustrated at how glibly the lies had tripped off Vanessa’s tongue when she had confronted him at the ranch, Cody in her arms. He had come directly here once he was discharged and the first person he’d met at the ranch house had been Vanessa.
She had unleashed a stream of innuendo and falsehoods about how she and Grady had been intimate at a party that he and Ben had attended. Initially she had said he was too drunk to remember, but Grady wasn’t a drinker. Nor was he the kind of guy who slept around. At all. But the DNA test had shown Cody was a Stillwater, so Grady guessed, given his brother’s wild living, Ben had fathered the child at that party.
When he’d confronted Vanessa with that information she had conceded that maybe she’d had a bit too much to drink herself and quickly claimed it must have been Ben. The trouble was, though he had made it very clear to Vanessa that he wasn’t Cody’s father nor was he interested in her, she still flirted with him. It annoyed him and even though he didn’t encourage it, he could only guess how the situation looked to Chloe. Not exactly the hero he had hoped he would return from the war as.
Injured, with the whiff of scandal surrounding him and his family.
Precisely the thing he had left Little Horn to escape after his father’s debilitating injury had sent his mother away, unable to live with a crippled man. The shame of his mother’s defection and subsequent divorce had caused Grady to join the army, looking for discipline and meaning to his life. It had sent Ben on a path of hedonism and self-indulgence. Their mother’s death while traveling abroad hadn’t helped matters, either.
It seemed both their lives had come full circle. Now he suffered from a life-changing injury that had cut short his army career and Ben lay in the hospital after being thrown from a horse. Both living echoes of their now-deceased father.
“Slow down, soldier,” Vanessa called out as she got out of her car behind him. “Let me help you.”
He tried not to cringe as he kept going, tucking his chin into his jacket against the cold, trying to banish the picture of Vanessa standing beside Chloe, their differences so obvious.
Chloe with her sweet, gentle smile. Vanessa with her overly loud voice and tactless attitude. He knew he shouldn’t compare, but he couldn’t help himself.
Vanessa hurried ahead of him as he struggled up the stairs to the covered veranda that wrapped around the Colonial-style house. “You know, I can never figure out which of these doors to use,” she muttered as she grabbed the handle of one of the double doors. She pulled it open just as Grady came close, and the door connected with his leg.
He bit down on a cry as he stumbled, his crutch slipping out and away.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you.” Vanessa clutched his arm as he regained his balance, pain shooting up his leg and clouding his vision.
He rode it out, then shook off her hand, frustrated at his helplessness. “I’m okay. Please.”
“I’m just trying to help you,” she complained as he fitted his crutch back under his arm. “You don’t need to get all huffy.”
“Sorry,” he said, unable to say more than that as he stumped into the entrance of the house. As Vanessa closed the door behind them, heat washed over him blended with the scent of supper baking and his frustration eased away.
He was home.
Beyond the foyer a fire crackled in the stone fireplace that was flanked by large leather couches. He wanted nothing more than to sink into their welcoming depths, close his eyes and forget everything that had happened to him the past few years. The war. The secret mission he and his team had been sent on and the hard consequences.
He just wanted to find the simple in life again.
But the sound of a baby crying upstairs broke the peace of the moment and reminded him of his obligations and how complicated his newly civilian life would be.
“Grady? Vanessa? Are you home?” his grandmother called out from somewhere in the house.
Vanessa sauntered past him to the living room, ignoring his grandmother’s question.
Just as Grady shucked off his heavy winter coat, his grandmother came down the stairs toward him, carrying Cody, who was fussing and waving his chubby arms.
In spite of knowing Cody wasn’t his, it wasn’t hard to see the resemblance. The little boy’s brown eyes and sandy hair were exact replicas of his and Ben’s, and he looked identical to Grady and Ben when they were babies.
He could see how people might believe he was the father. That Chloe might believe he was bothered him more than he cared to admit.
“Is he okay?” Grady asked, hobbling over to his grandmother, the injury in his leg making itself known as he faltered.
“He’s just fussy. Missing his mom, I think.” Mamie Stillwater shot a meaningful glance over her shoulder at Vanessa, who was now lounging on the couch leafing through a magazine she had bought on their way back from the hospital.
Vanessa must have caught the tone in Mamie’s voice, however, because she shot to her feet, her hands out for Cody. “Hey, sweetie,” she cooed, taking him from Mamie’s arms and walking back to the living room. “Did you miss your momma?”
“Can I get you something to drink? Some coffee? Hot chocolate?” his grandmother asked him, her eyes still on Vanessa who sat on the couch again.
“Coffee would be great,” he said.
“I’m fine,” Vanessa said to her, then turned to Grady with a coy smile and patted the couch beside her. “Come and sit down, soldier,”