Gift-Wrapped Family. Lois Richer
the five-year-old daughter of your husband, Harlan Granger, and his mistress, Reba Jones.” Though Caleb hated to be so blunt, there was no easy way to do this. “Lily lost both her parents in the car accident that took your husband two weeks ago.”
“How dare you?” Mia Granger gasped. One hand grabbed onto the shaky wrought iron railing.
“Are you all right?” Troubled by her ashen face, Caleb reached out to steady her, but the woman backed away.
“You’ve got everything wrong,” she insisted in a tearful voice. “Reba was Harlan’s secretary. They certainly didn’t have a child together. Please leave.” She turned away.
“I’m so sorry to trouble you.” Caleb’s instincts told him he couldn’t leave now. He had to reach this woman’s heart, for Lily’s sake.
“Then, don’t.” Her pale, pinched face implored him to leave her alone. But Caleb couldn’t do that.
“I’ve checked the birth records,” he said softly. “Lily is their child.”
Mia paled even more. She shook her head.
“It’s true. Please, may I please come inside and talk to you?”
Her distrust of him showed in the gold sparks that changed her emerald eyes to hazel. Given the deceitful husband she’d married, Caleb didn’t blame her for that. But he was also curious. Torn between trying to believe she was truly bewildered but feeling suspicious that she was trying to avoid him as she had his phone calls, Caleb pressed harder.
“I truly do not want to add to your pain.” He employed the calming tone he often used with a skittery witness on the stand. “I only want to help this little girl.” He pulled a picture from his chest pocket and held it out. “Lily Jones.”
Mia looked at the photo. When her eyes widened and her trembling lips parted in a gasp, Caleb knew he was making up lost ground. But then he saw something puzzling in her gaze—yearning?
“She’s a beautiful child, isn’t she?” Caleb hated causing this gentle woman more grief, but he was determined she understand that Lily’s future was at stake.
“The eyes—they’re quite startling.” Mia’s gaze remained riveted on the picture.
“The same color as Harlan Granger’s.”
“Many people have dark blue eyes.” Mia finally handed him the photo with a sigh. “I suppose you’d better come in,” she said in obvious resignation. She allowed him through and then closed the door. “This way.”
Caleb followed, noting that the interior of the house had probably once been magnificent. Though it hadn’t aged gracefully, it was spotless. The Victorian-style sofa Mia indicated with the wave of one hand was as desperately uncomfortable as it looked, but Caleb sat on it anyway, keeping his face impassive.
Mia Granger stood in front of the massive bay window in a puddle of bright October sunshine. She wore a pair of shabby jeans that looked too big and a faded teal sweater that drooped from her lean curves. Her beautiful hair flowed over her shoulders like a pale copper cape. When she caught Caleb staring, she crossed her thin arms across her chest defensively.
Caleb couldn’t stop staring. Backlit by the sun, the shape of Mia’s face brought memories of his mother, the mother he’d loved so dearly and lost to his murderous father.
“What was your name?” she prodded.
“Caleb Grant. As I said, I represent an adoption agency called Family Ties.” Caleb shook off his memories and concentrated on the delicate woman in front of him. Do your job, his brain ordered.
“Lily is one of their children waiting to be adopted?” Mia sank onto an armchair that could have sat three of her and nestled against the folds of a colorful quilt draped across the back of it.
“Not exactly. I wanted to explain when I called, but your phone is always busy or no one answers.” He studied her face, surprised by the flush of red in her cheeks.
“Sometimes I take it off the hook. Or I don’t answer. I can’t take any more calls from those to whom we owe money.” Mia stared at her hands.
Owe money? Caleb hadn’t expected that. It threw him off, made him wonder if she was trying to con him. He decided to turn the conversation back to Lily because Mia had made a connection with her picture.
“Lily may eventually be adopted. First we have to sort out her custody and what she’s owed from her father’s estate.” Caleb decided that while Mia might look innocent, she wasn’t stupid. She immediately straightened.
“Mr. Grant,” she began in a regal tone.
“Caleb,” he interrupted.
“Caleb,” she agreed softly. “You think my late husband is this child’s father. I assure you you’re wrong.” She continued, her voice growing steadily stronger. “I don’t have any money to give Lily. If I did, I would certainly help the poor child.” She paused for a moment, then murmured, “I never knew Reba had a daughter, but then I didn’t know Harlan’s staff well.”
“Lily was his child, too,” Caleb insisted. A new stain of red flushed her cheeks, bringing his sympathy. If he’d known Mia was unaware of her husband’s affair, he’d have handled this differently.
“I sympathize with Lily because as a child I lost my mother suddenly, too,” she said, ignoring his remark. “But I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do for her. I owe money myself.” The receding blush returned and deepened. She lowered her gaze.
“But, Mia, your husband’s estate must be considerable.” Caleb couldn’t believe her temerity. He knew from his research that Granger was loaded. He’d dealt with many prevaricators in his career and was oddly disappointed to realize sweet-looking Mia was one of them. But that sweetness wouldn’t stop him from seeking Lily’s rightful inheritance.
“Why do you assume that?” Mia’s gaze made him feel guilty for poking into her private world. “My husband was a lawyer, but we’re certainly not wealthy. You can see how we live.” She glared at him. “Harlan had to take whatever cases he was offered. In fact, he often had to go out of town to find work.”
The certainty in Mia Granger’s voice bothered Caleb. She looked and sounded as though she genuinely believed what she was saying. But if they were so hard up, why hadn’t her husband moved his office from its expensive downtown location to a less pricey area?
“What about the ranch? There’s a lot of land attached to that, valuable land.” He studied her intently, surprised when her forehead furrowed.
“What ranch? Harlan and I were married for six years. We never owned a ranch.” Caleb figured she saw something in his face, because the last of her words faltered before she whispered, “Have we?”
“What has your lawyer told you?” Caleb figured his best hope was to untie this mess without further alienating her.
“You mean Trent Vilang? Harlan’s partner,” she explained, as if Caleb didn’t already know that. “I’ve been feeling unwell since Harlan’s death, so Trent’s only told me the bare bones about the estate.”
“And that is?” For Lily’s sake, Caleb pressed, ignoring her frown at his inquisitiveness.
“Trent said there was barely enough money to pay off the firm’s bills and Harlan’s cre—” Mia gulped. The sheen of tears washed her eyes, but she lifted her chin and finished with quiet dignity, “His cremation.”
“I see.” As Caleb’s uncertainty mushroomed he glanced around, searching for a clue to his next step. His glance stalled on the oil painting over the fireplace. “Lovely painting. Who is it?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.
“My mother.”
“Your mother was Pia Standish?” He was speaking to the