Wildstar

It didn't help, either, that Devlin had gone. He had left for Chicago on the afternoon train the same day he'd brought her home. Jess missed him desperately, despite all her grievances against him, even despite the scandalous, infuriating, domineering way he'd treated her the night he'd found her in the opium den. She needed his sympa­thy, his understanding, and she could have used a good dose of his tenderness and charm, as well. He always seemed to know just the right thing to say to help her through the rough times.

But he wasn't here, and she didn't know if he ever would be.

The thought made her heart ache with longing and dread. His departure had left everything unresolved be­tween them. It felt as if Devlin had taken a part of her with him when he'd gone. Even more absurdly, she felt abandoned.

She didn't have the right to feel that way, Jess knew. Devlin didn't owe her a thing. He hadn't made her any promises. He'd never pretended feeling anything stronger for her than lust. Nor had he ever intimated that he meant to remain in Silver Plume after his business was finished.

Certainly he had never hinted that he was in any danger of falling in love with her. No matter that her father—Abruptly Jess caught herself. No matter that Riley would have liked to see a match between them. Even if Devlin were the marrying kind, which he wasn't, he wouldn't want to marry her. He'd made that clear enough on several occasions. She wasn't the type of woman who appealed to his masculine ideals. According to him, she was too tough and unfeminine for a woman. Certainly he wouldn't want her for his wife. His social standing, his enormous wealth, his physical beauty, his worldliness, all argued against even the possibility.

Of course, if he really loved her, none of those things would matter. Her winning Devlin's love, though, was like wishing on wild stars. She wasn't likely ever to see it come true, not in this lifetime. Especially now that he was gone.

At least she wasn't pregnant. Her monthly courses had come shortly after Devlin's departure, and while one small part of her was disappointed, Jess was mostly relieved. She didn't want to bring a bastard into the world, any more than her mother had wanted to. A child deserved a loving, caring father, and she couldn't give a child that if Devlin wasn't interested.

But if Devlin's absence left her desolate, her new es­trangement from Riley was tearing her in two. Riley seemed to take her knowing about her parentage even harder than Jess herself had. Every time he looked at her, she could see the regret and sorrow in his eyes, as if he knew she thought less of him because of it. Jess didn't know how to help him. No matter how many times she told herself it was wrong to blame Riley for deceiving her, she didn't know if she could forgive him. Or her mother, either. Her mother hadn't told her the truth, even when she lay on her deathbed. But it was Riley who had been left to face the consequences.

Jess wished she could feel differently. The awkward re­serve, the distance, between her and Riley hurt. For the first time in her life, she couldn't be easy with him. The intimacy, the feeling of family they'd always shared, had somehow been shattered.

She didn't even have the usual numbing solace of work to help take her mind off her troubles. During the weeks she'd spent trying to protect the mine from Burke's manip­ulations, her boardinghouse had suffered, but under Mei Lin's supervision, the Chinese laborers Devlin had hired had vanquished the mountain of cleaning, and Flo had kept up with all the ordering. With everything running so smoothly, Jess felt just a bit superfluous.

Riley told her not to worry about it—in fact, they wouldn't even have to operate the boardinghouse any longer. Once they started seeing a profit from the mine, they would be wealthy enough that they wouldn't need the income her boarders provided. But Jess needed the activity to keep her occupied. She did agree, however, to retain the laborers since Riley asked her to.

She also agreed to be at home when Riley gave Ashton Burke permission to call. To her surprise, Riley not only sanctioned the visit but insisted on it.

"You have to face it sooner or later, Jess," Riley rea­soned quietly.

His choice of words was deliberate, Jess realized. He hadn't said, "You have to face Burke," but "You have to face it." She could ignore Burke if she chose, but she couldn't ignore the truth just because she didn't like it.

Burke came the following Sunday afternoon. Jess waited tensely as Riley ushered him into the small parlor, not knowing how to act. It seemed that Burke was just as uncomfortable, though, which astonished her. She had never seen the suave, sophisticated Ashton Burke at a loss before.

The atmosphere, which was stiff and constrained, only worsened when Riley excused himself after a few minutes. Jess felt terribly awkward, remaining behind with this stranger who was her father. Oddly, though, Burke seemed content just to look at her.

Finally he set down his teacup and cleared his throat. "I truly am sorry, Jessica."

She fought the urge to clench her teeth as she answered quietly, "You expect me to forgive all the things you've done, just because you now say you're sorry?"

"Jessica, I never meant to hurt you or your mother."

"But you meant to hurt Riley."

There was a short pause. "Yes. I won't deny that. But I regret it more than I've eve

r regretted anything in my life." He looked away, as if ashamed to meet her eyes. "My only excuse is that I couldn't forgive him for marry­ing your mother. Jenny Ann chose him, and for that I hated him."

"There is no excuse for trying to destroy a man as fine as Riley!" Jess replied, her voice low and fierce.

"I know. Believe me, if I had known about you . . ." His voice trailed off lamely.

Jess sat there, squeezing her fists and remembering all the heartless, vicious things this man had done to her father—to Riley—as well as to herself. How did you for­give such theft and greed as Burke had shown? How did you forgive attempted murder? How did you forgive such hate? It was all she could do not to shout those questions at him.

Yet she also remembered something Devlin had said about Burke. Maybe he just needs someone to teach him the kind of values Riley taught you.

Nothing had ever been truer. Ashton Burke des-perately needed to learn such basic values, such simple human de­cency. Someone should have set him straight long ago.

Jess didn't know if she wanted to attempt the task, though. Or if she was even capable of it. She was guilty of the same kind of hate that Burke was. Hatred of him. It wouldn't be easy to give that up after all these years.

Just then he turned his head to look at her again, his blue eyes searching hers. "I know I'm asking a great deal, Jessica, but . . . I should like to become better acquainted with you. I've never had a child before. . . ."

The naked vulnerability on his face shook her. She had never expected Ashton Burke ever to need anything or anyone, and certainly not to admit it. Yet he was laying himself bare before her. And she knew, as certainly as she knew anything, that while he had coveted many things be­fore, he had never wanted anything as much he wanted her respect.