“I’m so glad,” Miranda said, a catch in her voice.
Nick gazed at his mother briefly, then turned to his father. “How come,” he demanded, “how come you lied to me?”
56
“How come,” Nick said, his voice hoarse, “neither one of you told me the truth?”
Jane was stunned he’d bring it up now, so abruptly, and she froze.
Derek looked quizzical but then suddenly sober. He moved his coffee aside. “Never told you what truth?”
“The truth!” Nick’s voice rose, his eyes flashed. He stared at his father. “How come you lied to me?”
Derek straightened. He stared back, shocked. “I’m not a liar—especially not to my own son. What are you accusing me of?”
Jane, sitting between father and son, put her hand on Nick to restrain him.
He ignored her. “But you did lie—and I’m not your son.”
Derek’s confusion was obvious. “What the hell are you ranting about? What’s—” Miranda’s gasp cut him off. She was whiter than white, clutching her breast, staring horrified at Nick.
Nick looked at her. “I found out the truth the day I rode off to fight in the war.”
“Oh, Nick,” Miranda cried, gripping his arm. “Why didn’t you come to us then?”
“What in hell?” Derek cried, standing.
“Chavez,” Nick said, lunging to his feet.
Derek became deadly pale, and he gripped the table for support. “Oh, God.”
“Chavez is my father,” Nick continued ruthlessly. “You lied to me—all these years!”
“How did you find out?” Miranda moaned.
“We were protecting you,” Derek said heavily.
“We didn’t tell you because it was pointless!” Miranda cried. “Pointless and cruel!”
“My life here has been lies!” Nick shouted.
“My love for you isn’t a lie,” Derek said, so softly, so hoarsely, he brought an absolute silence to the room.
Nick gripped the table too. He stared at Derek. Waiting, beseeching.
“That’s the truth,” Derek said. “Nick, the day you were born I took you in my arms and loved you as my own. That’s the truth.”
Nick stared at the table, his vision hazing. “Shit. It’s not possible. How could you love the son of a man who raped your wife? How?”
“Chavez paid for what he did,” Derek said savagely. “You are my son!”
“Rathe is your son!”
“No more than you.”
Nick just stared.
“I don’t love him more,” Derek said urgently with sudden insight. “In fact, it killed me from the very beginning that you were the one who had to go to that goddamn England and take over that damned inheritance—it killed me! Rathe was suited for it, not you. This is where you belong, where you’ve always belonged, here, at my side, on the D and M, the way it used to be …”
