Free The Rivals by Joan Johnston

Clay put his hands on Libby’s shoulders, looked into her eyes, and said, “I love Kate. She’s all I have left in the world.”
    Clay saw Libby wince before she pulled free and turned away. He’d known the words would hurt, but he hadn’t been able to curb his tongue. At forty-six, it was getting harder not to say exactly what was on his mind. To hell with diplomacy. He’d spent his whole life being careful not to offend the right people. If ever there was a time for plain speaking, this was it.
    â€œWhat’s going on, Libby? What is it you haven’t told me? Why did Kate leave school and fly back here?”
    Libby turned to face him, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. “That’s the worst part. I don’t know. She called to say she was coming home, that she had something important to talk to me about. She never said what it was.”
    â€œShe’s pregnant,” Clay said flatly.
    He watched as Libby sucked in a breath. “I thought the same thing,” she said.
    â€œSo maybe Kate met the father here, and that’s who she was with at the Mangy Moose,” Clay speculated.
    Libby shook her head. “I don’t think so. The bartender seemed to think they didn’t know each other. He overheard a little of what they said,” she explained when Clay lifted a skeptical brow.
    â€œHow could this have happened?” Clay demanded.
    Libby’s eyes looked bleak.
    Suddenly Clay was remembering how he and Libby had met. How easily he’d succumbed to Libby’s flirtatious smile and her young, supple body. She was still slim, still beautiful. But the smile was gone. He rarely let himself think about the good times they’d shared. Staying focused on her betrayal was the only way he’d been able to keep his distance from her. She was a dangerous flame, and this moth already had singed wings.
    â€œI’d better go,” he said, crossing to the door.
    â€œClay…”
    He unrolled his sleeves before putting on his tux jacket, then turned to her as he slipped into his cashmere overcoat. “Any ideas where I should start looking in the morning?”
    â€œI’ve already looked everywhere I thought she might be,” Libby said.
    â€œI’ll go by the sheriff’s office—”
    â€œYou can’t do that,” Libby protested.
    â€œWhy not? I’ll go as a friend of the family.”
    â€œYou’re being naive if you don’t think someone will call the newspapers to tell them you were there,” Libby said.
    â€œThanks to you, there’s nothing to connect me to Kate,” Clay said bitterly. “My name doesn’t appear anywhere. I’ve never contributed a dime to her support.”
    â€œYou’ve never complained,” Libby retorted.
    â€œWould it have done any good?” Clay pulled on his black leather gloves. “You’ve had everything your way for nineteen years,” he said. “That ends now. I’m going to do whatever I think needs to be done to find my daughter.”
    â€œ Your daughter?” Libby said, her chin up, her eyes sparkling with anger.
    â€œ Our daughter,” Clay corrected.
    â€œEven if it means the past will come out?”
    â€œIt was never my choice to keep the fact I have a daughter a secret,” Clay said angrily. “I did it because you convinced me it was the best thing for Kate. The only thing I’m concerned about now is getting Kate back home safe and sound, and then helping her through whatever crisis got her into this mess in the first place.”
    Clay was nearly out the door when Libby said, “I want to go with you.”
    He turned to stare at her. “Now?”
    She flushed. “No. When you go hunting for her tomorrow.”
    â€œWhat purpose will that serve?”
    â€œI won’t be here worrying all alone.”
    â€œWhat if she calls and there’s no one here to take the