face. "Oh, Shelly, how could you?" Her strangled whisper could barely be heard. "And to think he claimed no knowledge of Michael!"
"He didn't know. Really. I wrote to Sean and told him you were very sick," she explained. "If you look at the date on that letter, you can see it was written after you had come here, when you couldn't find work."
"But you kept on writing him!" Valerie accused.
"He cares for you, Val," Shelly said quietly. "Remember that. If he didn't, he wouldn't have bothered to find out how you were doing."
Those words haunted her for the balance of the week and all through Saturday morning as she was helping Michael get dressed. She was surprised to see how few belongings they really had, and the majority were Michael's toys. She left her furniture behind for Shelly, knowing she and Greg could use it in their new apartment when they married. Sean's only comment as he loaded their few suitcases in the car was an arching of the eyebrows.
Valerie remained silent during the ride, content to look out the window at the far hills painted gold and purple against the brilliant blue sky. Sean shot her a sideways glance but said nothing, addressing his remarks only to Michael, questioning him about his school and playmates. She felt a stab of jealousy that her son could talk so easily to a man he had known for only a week.
"We'll be at the house soon," Sean commented to Valerie.
"That's nice." She appeared disinterested as she concentrated on the view through the window.
"I can see you're excited over your new life." His low voice held a trace of mockery.
"I had a new life, thank you." She also kept her voice low so Michael couldn't overhear their tense conversation. "And I was doing quite well at it."
Sean's mocking gaze took in the shabby jeans and T-shirt she had donned that morning. "Is that why our son is wearing shoes that should have been thrown out months ago?" he asked tightly.
Valerie's head snapped around, her eyes fired with anger. "For your information, those shoes are the ones he plays in," she hissed. "It's the only way I can keep his school shoes looking nice. As it was, I didn't realize that my 'legacy' was from you, or I never would have used it."
"I suggest we continue this discussion later, away from half-pint's sharp ears." Sean's deceptively soft voice held a strong thread of steel.
Several minutes after he had pulled off the main road, passing through open white-painted gates, he slowed the car in the curving driveway in front of a large house.
Chapter Five
Valerie's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the large, sprawling H-styled ranch house. The outside was adobe and it had the traditional Spanish red-tiled roof with a covered archway above the oversized double front doors of carved dark wood. The larger windows, with black wrought-iron grilles over them, had window-boxes in front, adding splashes of brilliant color against the off-white background.
"This is your house?" Her tone was accusing as she faced him.
"That's right," he replied briefly, stopping the car and getting out to open the back door for Michael. "You're home, pal."
While the small boy eyed the house with undisguised interest, Valerie slowly climbed out of the car, feeling as if she had been transported to another world. Her uneasiness increased as she eyed the impeccably landscaped area and the cement driveway winding toward the back of the house.
"How could a mere army major afford a house like this?" she asked sarcastically, her arm outstretched toward the sprawling house.
"It's been in the family for years," he explained impersonally. "I'll show you the inside."
"It really doesn't matter." She shrugged her shoulders, trying to appear indifferent. "After all, I won't be here for very long."
Sean shot her a sharp glance before walking toward the front door. "I suggest you watch your words," he murmured, a warning in his voice as he led the way inside. Valerie ignored him, looking around the cool