Wildstar

"I'll do my best to see that doesn't happen," Devlin said solemnly. "That much I can promise you."

In the ensuing silence, Riley seemed lost in his reflec­tions. And when he spoke it was clear he was still dwell­ing on the past. "It's hell not knowing. Jenny Ann married me instead of Burke, but I never could be sure if she really loved me or if she was just making the best of the situa­tion."

"Why else would she marry you?"

"Because she had to."

"Why, did her father force you two to marry?"

"No, but—"

Riley broke off, and there was another uncomfortable pause. Devlin had the feeling Jess's father wanted to tell him something but didn't know quite how.

"You know," Devlin said slowly, choosing his words with care, "the first time I saw Jess and Burke together, it surprised me. The similarity in features was remarkable. They have the same color hair . . . the same nose and chin . . . the same determination."

"You noticed that, did you?" Riley replied quietly.

"And something else struck me as odd. Jess calls you by name instead of using 'Papa' or 'Father.' "

There was a long pause. "I always thought you were an observant man. Nobody else ever saw the resemblance. I kept worrying that they would."

"I take it Ashton Burke is Jess's natural father?"

"Yes."

The answer was so quiet that Devlin could barely hear. He wasn't really surprised to have his suspicions con­firmed. What surprised him was Riley's admitting it to him. That kind of honesty implied a great deal of trust. And something else, perhaps? The need for a sympathetic ear? His daughter's parentage wasn't something he could discuss with just anyone. Whatever, Devlin felt touched and honored that Riley had shared such a confidence. And somewhat uncomfortable, as well. He didn't like the idea of knowing such a secret and keeping it from Jess. In the past, he'd held back far more from her than he should have—which was a major bone of contention between them.

"Jess obviously doesn't know," Devlin said pensively.

Riley shook his head. "I never could bring myself to tell her. I thought she might come to hate me if she found out."

"I don't think it would be possible for Jess to hate you."

"I'm not so sure. She never has been able to abide dis­honesty. I did try to tell her the night I got shot, but she wouldn't let me talk. And I didn't try very hard afterward. I was afraid once she found out she wouldn't want to be my daughter any longer. I reckon that makes me a coward. I was afraid I'd lose her to Burke."

"There isn't much chance of that. She despises Burke and all he stands for." Devlin gave a sardonic grin. "I should know. Jess has accused me on more than one occa­sion of being just like him."

His attempt at lightening the conversation fell flat; Riley obviously was still trying to justify his actions to himself, if not to the man beside him.

"Jess is more my daughter than she could ever be Ashton Burke's." It was said fiercely, with a hint of des­peration.

"I don't doubt it."

"There was a good reason for keeping it quiet twenty years ago," he tried to explain. "Jenny Ann didn't want anyone to know, especially Burke. That's why she married me in the first place, to keep people from finding out and to prevent a scandal—and to give her daughter a name."

"I take it Burke doesn't know, either?"

"There've been a few times that I've been tempted to tell him and watch him squirm. All these years he's been denying his own daughter all the fancy things he thinks are so important. And now this last. . . . He set his hired guns on his own flesh and blood." Riley shook his head. "I don't think even Burke would want to live with that."

Devlin waited a few moments before saying quietly, "You don't think perhaps Jess has the right to make her own decisions?"

"I suppose she does. To be honest, it would be a big re­lief for her to know. Jenny Ann left it to me to tell her if I wanted to. You think I should?"

By then they had arrived at Riley's home. Devlin hesi­tated as he tied his horse to the porch rail. He was too in­volved to answer the question impartially. He had his own reasons for wanting Jess to know she was Burke's natural daughter. Realizing whose blood she shared might shake her up enough to make her reevaluate her fierce preju­dices, both against Burke and Devlin himself.

Then again, it might only strengthen them.

It hadn't escaped Devlin that his relationship with Jess wasn't so different from Burke's long-ago relationship with Jess's mother. They both had taken a young woman's innocence and been unwilling to make a commitment to her. Devlin found that a sobering, distasteful realization. Perhaps he had more in common with Burke than he wanted to admit.