Free Deception by Carolyn Haines

logic. She felt his hands on her shoulders, the fingers firm, and she saw the need in his eyes. Clay Sumner was a compelling man.
    The warmth of his fingers went through the cotton of her blouse. His eyes seemed to see only her. “Okay,” she agreed, without even intending to speak.
    “If she doesn’t get over her fear, she’s going to lose any chance at a real life,” Clay said. “She can’t grow up being afraid of everything.”
    “And you think if she conquers the barn, she can put her other fears to rest?” Connor stepped backward, forcing Clay to drop his hands from her shoulders. When the breeze struck the places he’d touched, she felt suddenly cold.
    “Partly. And I think she can learn from you that she has to go on with her life. You have that about you, Connor, a sense of survival, of enduring the worst and surviving.”
    “I’d wondered what Richard told you. Obviously a lot more than he told me about you,” she said softly. “I don’t make a habit of dragging my past around with me.”
    “He told me about your mother and brother, yes. He said your brother died instantly in the car accident, but that your mother lived for months.”
    “Ten. It was a terrible way to die.”
    “Richard said you were nineteen, and that you held your father together.”
    “Richard really did fill out my credentials for sainthood, didn’t he?” she asked. Her voice had thickened with emotion and she shrugged.
    “Renata has to learn that … to continue, to get on with her life. Day after day she sits in the house. She has to learn it!”
    “First she has to want to …”
    The shriek wafted on the gentle breeze, a lone, childish cry of pain that wrenched Connor’s heart.
    “Renata!” Clay rushed past Connor, running toward the house as fast as he could.
    The scream came again, holding on a high-pitched note before breaking into sobs. Connor didn’t think she’d ever heard anything so lonely in her entire life. She ran after Clay.
    She found them in the library, Renata sobbing in her father’s arms. “Daddy, don’t leave. Daddy!” she cried against his chest, her voice choked with panic. The children’s book was on the floor, pages bent.
    “What is it?” Connor asked Willene, who hovered over the sobbing child. Danny stood in a corner, his eyes wide with worry.
    “The book,” Willene said carefully. “Renata came in here to get something to read, and she found the book on the table.”
    “It’s a children’s book,” Connor said.
“The Secret Garden
. I read it when I was a child. There’s nothing in it …”
    Willene held a finger to her lips and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Ms. Talla was reading it to the children the night she died. It was Renata’s favorite, a special gift from her Uncle Harlan. Seeing the book, and being in this house, has upset Renata. It’s too much for one day.” She shook her head. “And how did that book get down on that table, anyway? I cleaned in here myself.”
    “It was there this morning,” Connor said. “I came in to look around, and it was there, before I saw you in the kitchen.”
    “Well, it wasn’t there yesterday. I’d never have left it when I helped Sally dust the room. I knew the children were coming and all.”
    Renata’s sobs had lessened, and she hiccupped softly, her forehead buried against her father’s neck.
    “That’s what that child needs,” Willene said under her breath. “A little attention and some cuddling. From her father. That’s what she needs more than anything in the world.”
    Connor felt Clay’s gaze on her and she looked at him. Renata was curled in his arms, exhausted by her emotional outburst. Over the top of her head, Clay’s eyes held a deep torment. “Stay,” he said.
    Connor wasn’t sure if he said the word or mouthed it. But she heard the request clearly.
    “I’d better get back to the barn and take care of the horses,” she said. “I’m sure Mr. Sumner would like some time alone with the