Phoenix Falling (51 page)

"He's located a possible father worse than a drug dealer?" Rainey said lightly. "Imagination boggles. Did Clementine manage to find herself a space alien?" Outside the house, she heard the sound of the SUV pulling up. Kenzie returning with Marcus from the airport.

"No space aliens. On a hunch, Mooney kept digging to learn more about the studio executive alleged to be one of your mother's flings. He learned that the affair was more serious than preliminary reports had indicated. The dates are perfect for this guy to be your father, and apparently she wasn't sleeping with anyone else at that time."

Rainey had thought she was beyond caring much about the results of her investigation, but she pushed the recliner upright. "Mooney thinks he's identified the bastard?"

"Yes, and the candidate is alive and well." Val took a deep breath. "Rainey, it's Marcus Gordon."

"Marcus?" Rainey froze. That couldn't possibly be true. His marriage to Naomi was famously devoted.

And yet—he'd always been around. The friend of the family who'd put Rainey on the plane to Baltimore after Clementine's death. The producer who'd given her opportunities, including the amazing chance to direct her first movie with almost no restrictions.

And he had the same kind of small-boned build she did. She felt so dizzy that for a moment she wondered if she was going to pass out.

Marcus Gordon entered the living room, Kenzie behind him. Marcus smiled broadly and headed toward her for a hug.

How many times had he hugged her over the years? And what the hell had been in his mind when he did? Confusion turned to ice. "I'll call you later, Val. Kenzie and Marcus have just walked in, and there's work to be done."

"Stay calm, Rainey," Val said with a rush. "Give him a chance to talk."

"Don't worry, he'll talk." Carefully Rainey returned the handset to its cradle and stood, raising her hand to keep Marcus away. "I've just received some remarkably interesting information. Are you my father?"

Marcus turned dead white under his California tan. "I... might be."

"I suggest you sit down and explain." Rainey watched with gimlet eyes, like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse that showed signs of fleeing.

But he didn't flee. He dropped onto the sofa, looking ten years older than when he'd come through the door. "Naomi and I were going through a bad spell. When I contacted Clementine about starring in a movie I was putting together—well, one thing led to another. She was so lovely. So full of life."

He stared down at his knotted hands. "I... I might have left Naomi for her, but Clementine refused to consider marriage. She said she'd been a lot of things, but never a home wrecker. And besides, she didn't want to marry me. I was a nice change of pace, but no more than that." Pain showed in his eyes for an instant.

Rainey stood over him, arms crossed belligerently. "What about when you found out she was pregnant?"

"I asked if I was the father, and she just laughed and said of course not." He raised his gaze, expression stark. "I went almost crazy wondering after you were born. Sometimes I thought you looked a little like me, other times I was sure you didn't. By this time, Naomi and I had worked things out, so I never pressed the issue with Clementine. I settled for keeping an eye on you when I could, just in case."

"In other words, she made it easy for you not to take responsibility, and you were happy to go along with that," she said in a an icy voice. "How very convenient. A DNA test should prove the relationship or lack thereof pretty quickly."

Marcus turned even whiter, but didn't look away. "If that's what you want. You have every right to be angry. I'm so sorry, Rainey. If it's any comfort, I've tortured myself plenty over the years. When I look at what you've accomplished, I'm so proud to think my blood might be in your veins. But if you are mine, I've failed you." His mouth twisted. "As Naomi says, there's no guilt like Jewish guilt, and I've carried that about you for over thirty years."

Rainey's hands clenched into fists. "How do you think Naomi will feel to learn that you cheated on her? Maybe fathered a child with another woman?"

Marcus flinched. "She might throw me out. She's entitled."

Before Rainey could say more, Kenzie's arm came around her, warm support in a world turned upside down. "You don't need a DNA test. Compare your hands. Look at the overall shape, the fingers, the nails."

Startled, Rainey spread her hands in front of her, then looked at Marcus as he did the same. Kenzie was right. Allowing for the difference in age and gender, their hands were very nearly identical, right up to the slight inward bend of the little fingers.

She lifted her gaze and examined Marcus's small-boned build, the shape of his skull. Here was the genetic missing link, the traits she hadn't inherited from Clementine.

He was studying her with equal intensity, and in his eyes she saw the same certainty she felt. "So it's true," she said unevenly.

Kenzie's arm tightened around her shoulders and he drew her out into the hall for a private talk. "Before blowing up a long-term marriage, step back and take a few deep breaths, Rainey. Clementine was the one who insisted on keeping your father's identity a secret. It sounds as if she did that at least partly to save Marcus and Naomi from splitting up, which would have damaged both them and their children."

"I wanted a father so much," she whispered, her voice raw.

"You've got one now. Think about what you want from Marcus before you say something disastrous. I think he's a much better choice for a parent than the drug dealer."

She focused on Kenzie's concerned face, remembering that he of all people could understand. "How would you feel if you found out that your father was someone you'd known your whole life? Someone like Charles Winfield."

"I'd be shocked speechless, and probably as angry as you are at first. Then I'd be glad. I wish to hell Charles
had
been my father."

But he would never find out the truth of his parentage. Reminding herself that she was lucky by comparison, she returned to the living room, Kenzie's hand on her shoulder. Marcus was staring out the window, his face haggard. He turned as she entered the room. "I wanted to be your father, Rainey, but I didn't think I had the right."

Her anger began to fade. She'd had a fantasy of a father who would always be there for his little girl, giving the unconditional love and support she'd craved. But she was a grown woman now. When she needed a reliable man, she had Kenzie. There was no point in blaming Marcus for failing her when Clementine had never given him a chance.

And no point in hurting Naomi and the rest of Marcus's family over an ancient indiscretion. "I wish Clementine had told you, or somebody, the truth, but I like the idea that she was being noble rather than merely careless."

"She didn't have you from carelessness." Marcus shook his head ruefully. "I've sometimes wondered if Clementine slept with me because I came from healthy peasant stock and would give her baby good genes. She wanted you very much, Rainey."

She might as well believe that was true, since it felt better than to believe she was the product of casual adultery. Deciding to get all the hard questions out of the way at once, she asked, "When you cast me in my first lead role, and when you got financing for
The Centurion
against the odds—how much of that was because you thought I might be your daughter, and how much was it on merit?"

"It was both," he said seriously. "I did give you special consideration, but I never would have made a bad business decision that would cost investors millions if you weren't up to the job."

Marcus had known exactly the right answer to give without getting into trouble. Her father was a smart man. It was an odd, exhilarating thought. Marcus Gordon was her father.

Dear God, she had three half-brothers! She'd met and liked them, too. Wistfully she realized they couldn't be told the truth because they'd be bound to resent their father's infidelity. But at least she knew.

She pressed her fingers against her forehead, fighting a desire to cry. Pregnancy definitely turned her into a watering pot. "This is going to take getting used to, but... I think I'm glad."

His face lit up like a sunrise. "I know that I am."

A gentle push from Kenzie, and suddenly she was in Marcus's arms, crying. She'd always wanted a father.

Better late than never.

Chapter 41

Indian Blanket. Kenzie sat back on his heels to admire his latest transplant. According to the desert handbook he'd bought, it would have a splashy red flower with yellow edges during its late spring blooming season.

Though he'd never done a lick of gardening in his life, he found that he quite enjoyed it. For weeks he'd been landscaping around the labyrinth, moving in tough native plants with the goal of making the area look natural, only better.

Since it was time for lunch, he stood and poured water around the base of the transplant. Was there time to walk the labyrinth before going down to the house? No, he didn't like being rushed.

After his first harrowing attempt, it had been a week before he'd had the nerve to walk the spiral path again. Luckily he'd never again had such an intense reaction. Overall he found it calming, and sometimes even uplifting.

He was almost to the house when Rainey raced out the back door, her ankle-length skirt swirling around her legs. She'd caught up on her rest since signing off on the movie, and it agreed with her. The pregnancy didn't show yet, but she assured him that any minute she was going to start ballooning. Despite his anxiety about impending fatherhood, he found the process interesting, and he and Rainey had never been closer.

Her eyes were gleaming wickedly when she bounced into his embrace. "Have I got a deal for you!" Grabbing his hand, she towed him toward the house. "As soon as you finish lunch, we're going to Santa Fe."

"Why do you want to go there?" He had no trouble visiting a small town like Chama, but he wasn't sure he was ready for Santa Fe.

"Remember Dame Judith Hawick?"

"Of course I remember Dame Judith." He washed his hands at the kitchen sink. "Is she visiting Santa Fe and we're going to meet her for dinner?" That he would enjoy.

"Sort of. She's a guest director at the Santa Fe Shakespeare Forum this fall, and she's putting on
Much Ado about Nothing
. Tonight is her opening."

He frowned, not liking the idea of being in a large crowd. "I've seen the play, thank you very much. If we're meeting her for dinner, another night would surely be better than on her opening."

"Oh, this isn't about seeing the play." Rainey darted him a glance that clearly said she was up to something. "It's about you playing Benedick to my Beatrice."

"What!" He stared at her. "Rainey, you've convinced me. Pregnancy makes women insane."

"Not this time. The production was all set to go, until most of the cast went out for a late supper after last night's dress rehearsal. Dame Judith says this is clear proof that a good dress rehearsal is a disastrous omen." Rainey steered him to the table and sat him down in front of a chicken Caesar salad.

Ignoring the food, he asked, "I presume there is a point to this?"

"Today half the players, including her leads and their understudies, are down with food poisoning, way too sick to set foot on a stage." Rainey sat opposite him and started on her salad. "Dame Judith can cobble together most of a cast. She's going to dress in drag and play Leonato herself. But she desperately needs two good leads. She'd heard we were in New Mexico, so she tracked us down through Marcus and called me."

"If that many people are sick, they should cancel the performance."

"The show must go on," she said piously.

"Rubbish! Sometimes the show shouldn't go on, and this is one of those times."

Her expression turned serious. "This is really important to Dame Judith, Kenzie. It's her first time directing in this country, and she's frantic for it to go well. She almost cried with relief when I said we could fill in." Rainey's changeable eyes were pleading. "I owe her one for acting in
The Centurion
at a price I could afford. That's my obligation, not yours, but you know the part, and you're available. Please—will you do it?"