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into Deirdre like a fist to the solar plexus, shattering any consideration Finn’s condition warranted. Anger flared anew. “As a matter of fact, Emma was with me,” Deirdre snarled, charging into the room. “Thank you all so much for that little treat.”

      “Deirdre!” Finn wheeled toward her, Irish green eyes asking more than Deirdre could ever give her.

      “Thank God you’re here, girl!” the Captain grumbled. “You put this damned thing together! Your brother can’t tell a nut from a bolt today! I can’t figure out what the hell’s wrong with him.”

      “That’s easy enough to explain. Nothing like a guilty conscience to screw up your concentration, is there, big brother? You sent Emma to the house.”

      “That’s right. I told the kid where you were.” Cade tossed his screwdriver to the thick blue carpet and levered himself to his feet, his chin jutting at a belligerent angle that accented the faint scar he’d gotten hauling their father out of a fight years ago. “Go ahead and string me up. You wouldn’t let me come with you, and I didn’t think you should be alone.”

      “I didn’t hold your hand when you were sorting through that box with your old comic books in it. Why shouldn’t I be alone to look through my own stuff?”

      “You know damned well why.” Cade raked his dark hair back from his forehead and glared down at her with eyes as blue and blazing with defiance as her own. “That chest might as well have been stuffed with dynamite the way you blew up whenever you went near it.”

      “And to think that was before I knew what was inside. You should have dug a little deeper when you went pawing through it the other day, Cade.”

      “What do you mean when I pawed through it? The chest is yours. I never even opened it.”

      “So you drove the Captain over for one last attempt at search and destroy?”

      The Captain scowled. “If I could climb the stairs to that second floor, missy, I’d be in my own house where I belong instead of dragging my sorry self around here, getting in the goddamn way.”

      “Captain, we’re glad to have you—” Finn started, but Deirdre plunged on.

      “I found what you were looking for, Cade,” Deirdre said, her gaze locking with his. “It was there all the time.”

      He gritted his teeth, struggling for patience, an expression painfully familiar. And yet there was something brittle about him, his blue eyes burning, intense. “How could I be looking for it when I don’t even know what it is?”

      Deirdre drew the letter out of her pocket, betrayal burning through her anew. “Don’t even try to lie your way out of this, either one of you.” Deirdre brandished the envelope at her brother and father. “All this time you knew—”

      “Knew what?” the Captain asked, looking bewildered. “There was nothing but frills and nonsense in that cedar chest. Get hold of yourself right now, girl, and act like a McDaniel.”

      Deirdre gave a harsh laugh. “I wonder how many millions of times I heard that one? ‘Act like a McDaniel, Deirdre. McDaniels don’t cry. McDaniels never quit. McDaniels don’t run away.’ I stunk at being a McDaniel, didn’t I? I just never knew the reason why. But you did. You and Mom and…Cade.” Her voice broke. She hated herself for showing weakness, reached deep inside to quell her tears. “This is a letter Mom wrote when I fell off that stupid plane.”

      “Sonofabitch!” Cade paled. He grabbed the letter.

      “Go ahead and take it,” Deirdre said. “I’ve already read it.”

      Finn slanted a worried glance at the Captain, then hustled over to Deirdre, slipping one arm around her. “Why don’t you and Cade go into the kitchen. The two of you can talk—” Empathy and regret softened Finn’s face, her eyes far too easy to read.

      “Oh my God, Finn!” Deirdre said, the truth jolting her. “You know it, too.”

      “Know what? What the hell are the three of you talking about?” Martin McDaniel complained. “Quit acting like I’m not even here! I’m old, not stupid. And I have no idea what you’re all so upset about.”

      Deirdre glared back at him in disbelief. “Don’t you get it? The game’s over. The secret’s out. But I’ve got to admit, you were damn good at covering it all up, Dad.” She all but spat the word.

      “Deirdre, wait, he didn’t—” Cade started to intervene, but Deirdre didn’t even stop to draw breath.

      “This whole pack of lies was just an earlier version of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’ right, Captain? I’ve got to hand it to you, though, you handled it like an officer and a gentleman.”

      “Deirdre, don’t,” Finn pleaded. “You’ll regret—” But Deirdre plunged on.

      “Must have galled the hell out of you, having to pretend I was your daughter.”

      “Pretend?” the Captain echoed.

      “Having to look at me every day and know that Mom crawled into bed with some other man.”

      Despite his injury, the Captain pulled himself ramrod straight. “Don’t you dare say such a thing about your mother!”

      “Why not? We both know it’s true. My real father is some guy named Jimmy Rivermont. No wonder you couldn’t be in a room with me for ten minutes without losing your temper.”

      “You’re not making any sense!” the Captain blustered. “Your mother was a perfect lady! She would never have…”

      “Stop it, for God’s sake,” Deirdre raged. “If I hear what a perfect lady Mom was one more time I’m going to throw up! Don’t you get it? The game is over. I know the whole sordid story. It’s all in the letter Mom wrote to the guy she was screwing while you were off God-knows-where playing hero.”

      Martin McDaniel staggered back a step, so damned confused Deirdre’s heart hurt. She had to fight to hold on to her outrage as he took the letter from Cade’s fingers, opened it, read it. He didn’t make a sound. Stood there, so still, as if he’d been turned to stone.

      “What did you do?” Deirdre asked, like a kid poking at a sore tooth. “Sit at the table and shake your heads? ‘The girl is a mess, but what can you expect? It’s not as if she’s a McDaniel.’ I spent my whole life tearing myself apart wondering why I didn’t fit in with my own family. Why you and Mom loved Cade better. At least now I know the truth. It wouldn’t have mattered how hard I tried to be what you wanted me to be. I’d still be Emmaline McDaniel’s dirty little secret. No wonder you couldn’t love me.”

      She dared her father to deny it was true, wanted him to insist that knowing she wasn’t his by blood hadn’t made any difference. She was his daughter in every way that counted. She needed her father to close the space between them, put his arms around her. But he didn’t.

      The Captain turned to Cade, eyes once eagle sharp now pleading. “You knew about this? That your mother…your sister…”

      Finn moved to her husband, slipped her arm around him. And for a heartbeat Deirdre wondered what that felt like—to have someone support you when the roof caved in. A soul mate who would walk through fire to shield you.

      Cade drew strength from his wife, faced the rest of his family.

      “Yeah. I knew.”

      The Captain let the letter fall from his fingers. Deirdre could almost see his once-formidable strength drain away, his body suddenly frail, terrifyingly old. She wanted to reach out to him but couldn’t. He’d just proved the greatest terror of her childhood to be true. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t even look at her.

      Cade laid a hand on Martin McDaniel’s arm as gently as if the craggy old man were one of his twins. “Dad, wait.”

      Deirdre flinched at the unexpected word. Dad. Cade said it

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