The Black Sheep's Secret Child

“You said you sold your house to pay Rafe’s debts. Where are you going to go and what do you intend to live on?”

“I’d hoped to return to Tennessee.” California was expensive and she wanted to start a new life far from the Caldwell family.

She never should have settled in LA after leaving New York. Originally she’d intended to move to Las Vegas to be close to Trent. He’d not been thrilled at having this plan sprung on him. It had been the first time she’d asserted herself and made her longing for marriage and a family clear to him. The fact that she’d pushed had caused their breakup. With her future up in the air, she’d gone to LA and reached out to Rafe.

He hadn’t hit her with I told you so or made her feel worse about herself. He’d been supportive and friendly. A hundred times since then she’d wondered how her life would’ve turned out if she’d done any one of a dozen things differently.

“What’s in Tennessee?” Trent asked.

Not a single thing, but at least it was somewhat familiar. “It’s home.”

He didn’t look convinced. “And with no money, what are you planning on doing there?”

She’d considered returning to acting, but that would require relocating to New York or staying in LA. But with the terrifying load of debt hanging over her head, she was slowly coming around to the idea.

It meant giving up her dream of raising Dylan where neighbors knew each other and pitched in to help. At least for the time being.

“I had thought to move to Gatlinburg. The population is small, but it’s a big tourist destination and I’m sure I can find something I can do.”

“You didn’t deserve to be put in this position by my family. You want to move to Tennessee, I’ll help you with some cash to get you started.”

She was okay with the idea of moving away, but Trent’s offer of help made her feel as if he wanted her gone. Ridiculous. One brief sexual encounter with him and she was on her way to becoming emotionally attached again. Damn. This was not why she’d come here. She needed him to save the record label so Dylan would have something to inherit.

“The only help I need is for you to take over West Coast Records.” Despair swept over her, but she couldn’t let Trent see her distress. “Beyond that, there’s nothing I need from you.” She used her key card and let herself into the suite. “Good night, Trent. It was nice to see you again.”

With a cheeky Courtney Day smile, she waved at him and slipped through the open doorway. She thought she’d gotten the final word in, but Trent had one last parting shot before the door closed.

“Take the night and think about my offer.”

Savannah opened her mouth to tell him he was wasting his breath, but he’d already turned and walked away. She resisted the urge to call after him. She was tired of arguing.

With her plan to escape her current predicament amounting to a major failure, Savannah sought solace in the one spot of light. Her son, Dylan. She entered her bedroom, found him sleeping peacefully in his crib and turned off the baby monitor so as not to wake Lori, the babysitter Savannah had used on and off in the months since Rafe’s death. Dylan was a sunny, healthy baby who’d begun sleeping through the night by the time he was six months old.

Having never known her mother, Savannah hadn’t known what to expect when her son came along. Although she’d long craved a family of her own, reality was never the same as daydreams. In Dylan’s case it was so much better.

Savannah left her sleeping son and crossed to the bathroom. She stripped off her dress and examined her bare thighs. Sure enough, a bruise was forming where Trent’s fingers had bitten down. She brushed her fingertips across the spot. Letting her body dictate the encounter with Trent hadn’t been the best idea, but she didn’t regret what had happened. Yet she knew her impulsiveness would have emotional consequences.

Maybe she should take Trent’

s help to get out from under Rafe’s load of debt. Let Siggy destroy the company. What did she care as long as she and Dylan were free? Besides, even if she could convince Trent to take on the leadership of the record label, she might be inviting more trouble from her father-in-law. He was leveraging her situation to keep Dylan close. What if he came after her with some ridiculous legal ploy that she couldn’t afford to fight?

Savannah changed into pajamas but doubted her ability to sleep, so she turned on the television and sat on the couch in the living room to watch a show about tiny-house hunting. Her mood lightened somewhat as she considered the idea of finding a four-hundred-square-foot house where she and Dylan could live a simple life.

The sort of life she might have had with her mother if she hadn’t been killed while deployed in the Middle East when Savannah had been three. She’d give anything to recall even the blurriest image of her mother, Libby. Instead, all she had were the stark memories of being passed back and forth between her father and maternal grandmother like an endless tennis volley.

Her parents had indulged in a brief fling that resulted in Savannah being conceived. And despite her resolve never to follow in her mother’s footsteps, she’d done exactly that. From what she’d gathered from her grandmother, Libby hadn’t planned to tell Chet Holt he was a father. Nor had Savannah’s dad been thrilled to be saddled with the responsibility of a daughter he’d never expected.

When her father’s bad decisions landed him in prison for burglary, and with her grandmother’s health making it too hard for her to care for Savannah, she’d been shipped off to LA to live with her aunt, who worked as a housekeeper for the Caldwells.

Savannah closed her eyes and recalled the discomfort of her first few months in LA. The Caldwells’ house was not a happy place. Siggy’s second marriage was on the rocks, and Melody fought with her stepmother nonstop. At sixteen, Trent was raising hell at school and driving his father crazy at home. Only Rafe seemed above the fray. He’d been breezing through his senior year of high school and was on track to finish in the top 10 percent of his class.

With those unhappy days filling her thoughts, it was no wonder that when she fell asleep in front of the TV she had a nightmare about her and Dylan living in the Caldwell home with Siggy. She woke to the sounds of her son stirring in his bedroom and stumbled in a fog of lingering dismay to get him changed before Lori woke. Savannah loved these quiet early hours with Dylan.

Snuggling him enabled her to escape her worries for a little while. His smiles lit up a room. He was such a happy, inquisitive child and since he’d begun to walk two weeks ago, she had to keep a close eye on him at all times.

Both Savannah and Dylan were still in their pajamas when the babysitter emerged from her room. Savannah had given him breakfast and was on the couch reading to him from his favorite picture book.

“What time is it?” Savannah asked Lori, standing with Dylan in her arms.