Stonebrook Cottage Read Online Free PDF

father had encouraged both her and Jack to stay busy and excel, apparently believing the less time they had to think about their mother and grieve, the better. At eighteen, Kara headed north to Yale, not to return until last year.
    If she hadn't moved back, would Mike Parisi be dead now? Sam wondered if that was a question Kara had asked herself, one she'd been running from that night when she'd landed in his arms.
    Susanna set her cup down after the tiniest of sips. "Sam, I understand you were at the opening of the Gordon Temple exhibit a couple of weeks ago. You've been so busy, I haven't had a chance to talk to you about it. Mum and Dad are thrilled to have him at the gallery. Jack and I couldn't make it to the opening. He's an incredible artist, isn't he?"
    Sam shrugged. "The paintings looked fine to me. I don't know that much about art."
    "My mother said you didn't stay long. They're curious because you two have the same last name."
    Jack shifted in his chair. "I wondered about that, too. Sam, you're part Native American. This guy's Cherokee. He used to live in San Antonio. What's the story?"
    "No story."
    It was a true answer, if not a complete one. Sam had known for the past five years that Gordon Temple was his father. Biologically. He had never had a real father. His mother, an elementary-school art teacher in a poor section of San Antonio, had finally told him the truth when Gordon's fame was on the rise. Sam had already known his mother and Gordon were briefly married when they were both twenty. Gordon left after a year. Loretta Temple said she never expected him to stay. He was a nomad, an artist who needed his freedom. It was a rationalization, maybe, but Sam didn't resent her for it—she wasn't the one who'd left. She didn't find out she was pregnant until a month after Gordon Temple had withdrawn from her life. She thought it would be easier on him, and ultimately their child, if she said nothing and didn't tempt him to come back.
    Thirty-five years later, she admitted she wasn't sure she'd made the right decision in not putting a father's name on her son's birth certificate, but it had been the only choice she'd felt she could make at the time.
    No, no story, Sam thought. Just a string of simple facts.
    Susanna fingered the delicate handle of her espresso cup. "Did you run into Kara at the opening? I understand she didn't stay long, either. She got the call about Governor Parisi's death and left quickly. Mum didn't realize what was going on at the time or she'd have made sure she was all right." Susanna fixed her vivid green eyes on Sam. "I hate to think of Kara dealing with such a terrible shock all alone."
    Sam sipped his espresso, which was very hot and very strong, and offered no comment. This explained the invitation to dinner. Susanna was suspicious of what had happened at the opening, but she would be. She was convinced women fell all over him. It happened, but not every time—and it hadn't happened with Kara. Her grief and shock had more to do with their night together than any attraction to him. But Sam couldn't be sure his preoccupation with Gordon Temple hadn't affected his own judgment.
    Jack shook his head, finished with his espresso. "You following this governor's death?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I can't get Kara to talk about it. She's buried herself in her work. She went up to Connecticut for the funeral. The new governor's a friend, as well—Kara's godmother to her children. They flew back with her to go to a kids' dude ranch."
    "We sent Maggie and Ellen to a dude ranch that one time, remember? Ellen loved it, Maggie thought it was hell on earth—"
    But Jack was not to be distracted. "I don't like reading my sister's name in the paper in conjunction with the unexplained death of a governor. At least she was in Austin and not up there when Parisi drowned. I'd hate to see her get involved in something like that."
    Sam understood Jack's reaction, but decided it wasn't his place to bring