She didn’t want to move.

She didn’t want to even think about moving, but somebody in her room was pulling her from a blissful if not unusually deep sleep. As Gia Doyle concentrated harder, she realized it was not one but a group of people huddled in mass at the far end of her room. The words they spoke drifted toward her in slurred phrases and whispers. Nothing was clear, nothing made sense, but she knew one thing for certain. She was not going to listen to them for one moment longer.

"Shut the hell up! And get out!" She meant it to be a shout, but it came out as a murmur only hinting at her normal level of confidence which she was sure the nurses, yes, she could see now that they were nurses, knew about.

She made her presence known to the women in white in her usual gruff style. A few ran out of the room immediately but one or two lagged behind. One was a grandmotherly woman with salt and pepper hair. Gia pointed at her.

"You. Stay." She commanded the nurse like some sort of lap dog. She wanted to know what she was doing here. What had happened to put her in the hospital? The elderly woman’s nose lifted in the air and she huffed striding out the door stepping aside for the man who filled the doorway.

"Watch out for that one, Mitch. She’s a handful."

Mitch Grayson laughed and nodded at his nurse. "Don’t worry Maddie. I think I am old enough to take care of myself."

Maddie Holland strode out the door with the only other nurse left in the room hot on her heels.

"Was it something you said?" Mitch smiled at Gia and she turned away dismissing him as easily as she had dismissed the gaggle of nurses. "You might as well give it up. I’m not as easily intimidated as my staff seems to be."

Gia’s voice was hoarse. "Where am I?" The words came out as barely a whisper.

"You’re in the Legacy infirmary. Seems you had a nasty run in with a bullet."

"What else is new?" She started to laugh but the pain cut it short.

Mitch checked her chart and picked up her wrist. Her pulse was stronger now. He was thankful for that. During the night he thought he might have lost her once or twice. After what she’d been through already, he knew this woman was a fighter.

He tried to ignore the zinging sensation that traveled up his arm at the mere touch of her wrist. The primal stirring in his body reminded him he was still a man, if only by half.

Gia could see something flash in his eyes. A remembered pain? As he walked around to the other side of the bed he noticeably limped. Not much, but a little. His face strained with the pain. She wondered if it was an old football injury. He seemed the type. Large muscular chest and arms gave her the sense that he regularly worked out and his thighs were nicely filling out his dark slacks.

She wasn’t usually the type to notice such things. But lying in bed with a truckload of pain in her side didn’t leave her much else to do.

Mitch sat on the far side of the bed, his thigh brushing against hers through the covers.

"Tell me about what happened?"

What should she tell him? She didn’t remember being shot? She didn’t. She didn’t even remember getting home that night.

The confusion in her eyes told him all he needed to know.

"Don’t push it. The memory will come." He eyed her with a certain amount of awe. "We almost lost you last night – twice. And I can rightly tell you, you had my heart rate skyrocketing like a needle on the richter scale."

As he became more relaxed with her, she noticed his accent. Southwestern? Maybe Texas or Oklahoma? If that was true, this doctor was far from the homestead.

Gia sat up unexpectedly. "When can I leave?"

"Whoa, honey." Mitch pushed hear back down against the covers. "You’re not well enough to go anywhere. Didn’t you hear me mention the fact of that pesky bullet that tried to take your life?"

"I have more important things to do than recuperate. Get me the hell out of here or I’ll check myself out." Gia searched for her gun opening and closing drawers. "And get me my Glock!"

"Darling, you’re not gettin’ your Glock and you’re sure as hell not gettin’ that pretty little behind out of this bed. If I have to, I’ll hog tie you to the mattress."

Gia’s voice lowered dangerously. "You do that I just might have to show you exactly what I can do to you."

Mitch’s hundred kilowatt smile came unexpected. "Promises. Promises."

Eden Fairchild swung her red hair around and Cassie giggled in little girl glee. She was so precious. Such a mother’s dream. For three years she was allowed to feel this joy, this all consuming love from another human being. And Cassie knew only how to love, not how to hate. But also, the three years had been a horrible kind of torture. She felt such wonderful joy and such horrible pain. Pain from losing the one man in her life who ever mattered. Even now she felt the pain of having to give up Kevin.

With him she didn’t think she could be happier, without him she found herself in a self made misery. It had to be this way. He wouldn’t have understood what she was doing. Or why she was doing it.

Only spending time with Cassie seemed to quell the pain and bring her a temporary peace.

Eden had been completely absorbed playing with Cassie and didn’t notice when her father walked into the room.

"How’s my pretty granddaughter doing?" Nathan Fairchild’s booming voice carried across the room. He eyed his daughter’s frown with an arching eyebrow. "What’s wrong, honey?"

Her red hair flew back in startled amazement. "Wrong? Why would there be anything wrong?" Eden couldn’t keep the catch out of her voice.

He spoke to her like the knowing father he was. "You miss him. I can see it every time I look at you."

"Him?" Eden feigned ignorance. "Him who? I don’t know what you’re talking about, daddy."

"You know perfect well whom I am referring to. Kevin. Why won’t you tell me what happened between the two of you? Did he hurt you? If he hurt you–"

Eden’s eyes grew wide. "No, daddy. Never. Kevin would never hurt me. I’m the one who did the hurting." She closed her eyes to the truth surging inside of her. "I’m the one who pushed him away. Me. Not him."

"Because of Cassie." Nathan desperately needed to understand his adopted daughter. He wanted to understand her. He pulled Eden into his fatherly embrace holding her to his chest.

She found a steady, loving comfort there. She pressed her face into his white shirt. It smelled of leather and musk.

"It’s all my fault." Eden couldn’t hold back the tears. "I loved him and I pushed him away!" The sob caught in her throat.

"Why?" he asked sternly. "Tell me why."

She paused for a moment. "I can’t. I promised. I promised I would never tell anyone. Ever."

Nathan was not happy by these confusing developments. "So you’re going to keep this secret at the expense of your own happiness with Kevin?"

Oh, God. She had never thought about it like that before.

He pulled her away from him and gave her a good shake. "Tell me, Eden. Tell me everything."

"You did WHAT?" Nathan Fairchild couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "You told me Ian Fairchild raped you three years ago while you were at boarding school with your cousin and that’s why Cassie was born."

Her father’s voice shook the ceiling. She knew he was going to be unhappy, but she didn’t think he would become nearly violent. He looked like he wanted to slaughter someone.

A tear slid down her face. She couldn’t believe how far she had let the deception go.

"I lied."

The silence at her statement was deafening.

"Why did you lie?" he whispered in a strained, yet controlled voice. "What in the hell would provoke you to say such a thing about Ian? You knew what good friends we were. What did he ever do to you?"

She didn’t have an answer for him.

"Nothing, daddy. Ian did nothing to me." She paused trying to collect her thoughts. "He wouldn’t even think of touching me. He knew about my relationship with his brother. With Kevin."

"So why? Explain it to me. If what you’re telling me is true, you’ve ruined a man’s reputation, his career, hell, you’ve ruined his life! Before your and Faith’s revelations about him, Ian was one of the most honest and humble men I knew." Nathan grew more angry by the minute but he was holding his fury back waiting for an answer. "Tell me why."

Eden motioned to the nanny who had entered the room and had her take Cassie outside to play.

"I can’t tell you that," she said after Cassie was well out of ear shot.

"You damn well better!" Nathan wasn’t one to raise his voice, but for this, he was making an exception. "Tell me! Tell me now, Eden!"

She struggled against her father’s iron grip. His hand bit into her arm. He wasn’t going to just let it go. She knew that now. He knew a fraction of the tawdry story, now he wanted the rest. He deserved the truth.

"Faith," she said, softly. I did it for Faith."

"Faith asked you to lie about Ian raping you?" Nathan sighed. Then the horror of it all came crashing down upon him. "My God!" The implications were repulsive. "If that is true and you lied about Ian for Faith, I suspect she was lying as well."

"No, daddy. No." Eden couldn’t believe what he was suggesting. She wouldn’t have done any of this if she hadn’t believe Ian had raped her friend.

"Did Faith actually tell you he raped her? Or was it Julian who told you?"

Eden ran the events of that night through her mind. Why couldn’t she remember Faith’s confession? There had been a confession, hadn’t there? Why else would she have suggested such a thing? She raised a shaking hand to her mouth. "Oh, my God."

Suddenly a new slant to the situation came into his mind. Cassie. "If Ian didn’t rape you, who is Cassie’s father? Is it Kevin?"

"No. Ian is Cassie’s father."

"But you said--"

"I know what I said." Eden couldn’t help but interrupt him. "Ian never touched me."

"Then how?" His eyes held hers for the longest time. "That could only mean one thing. She’s not yours, is she?"

Tears came upon her in abundance as she hung her head in shame.

"No, Cassie isn’t my daughter. She’s Faith’s. Faith’s daughter with Ian."

As she collapsed onto the floor of her father’s study, she knew that a time would soon come when she would lose the one thing that had come to mean so much to her, being a mother to Cassie.

Hours later, Mitch found himself outside the door of Gia’s hospital room. He didn’t know why he was there that late at night, but he felt compelled to check on her one more time before going home. The leg that had been wounded in battle ached like it did every night before a big storm. Tonight, however, the ache was bigger. He guessed it had something to do with the woman lying in bed on the other side of this door.

It had been so long since he even thought about a woman in that way. And he didn’t know why he was reacting to this particular woman. He knew she was trouble with a capital T. She wasn’t the sort of woman he went after. He preferred ladies more frilly and ladylike and who dressed the part. He had a feeling Gia was none of those things. Hell, she had even barked at Maddie and gotten away with it. What sort of woman did that?

Mitch opened the door and light spilled in from the hallway. She was tossing on the bed in the throws of a nightmare. He knew he’d kick himself later, but he let himself into the room and sat on the side of the bed. He had barely settled in when Gia bolted upward.

"Mama!" she screamed.

Her face was filled with pain. When he steadied her shoulders and her eyes focused in on his, a mask of indifference covered her lovely face. She shrugged his hands away from her shoulders like a woman who didn’t want to be touched, or one who didn’t feel they deserved the warmth from another human’s hand.

"Nightmare?" Mitch asked softly, relying on his gracious bedside manner to get him through this conversation.

He was already noticing things he shouldn’t notice. The way the hospital gown molded to her breasts revealing the curves underneath. The way her breath came in short gasps as she concentrated on steading her breathing. Even though she was a good distance away, he could still feel that breath on his face – and he liked it.

"I don’t know. I don’t remember," Gia lied.

"Sure," he said, accepting her answer but knowing soon he’d find out eventually what tortured her so. "Have you remembered anymore from the shooting?"

Her eyes furrowed together in annoyance. "You never give up, do you?"

"Hallmark of a good doctor. Tenacious to the end."

She could see the spark in his eyes when he talked with her, and she knew that spark would only get him hurt. So she set out to dissuade him from ever coming near her.

"Don’t even think about it, Country." She didn’t know why she made up a nickname for him. Maybe only as something to remember him by. "I’m not the type of woman you want to get involved with."

Mitch chuckled. "Blunt. It’s what I expected. Am I that obvious?"

"As a train wreck. I’m serious. Getting involved with me will only lead you into trouble."

"You don’t know me well enough to hang that on me." Mitch felt the need to explain his background to her. So much for leaving her alone and walking away. "For your information, I’m already in trouble. I work for the Legacy, don’t I? I could be sitting pretty in my old office in Tyler, Texas divvying out pain medication to senior citizens, but I’m not. I’m here. So that means I must enjoy trouble. And you sure as hell are trouble."

"Country, you don’t know the meaning of the word trouble." Gia bit out the sentence in her usual "stand back" tongue, but he paid no mind to her grumbling.

"That attitude usually work on people, darlin’? Because it doesn’t work with me. I was here when you had that nightmare you won’t talk about. I know you’re venerable even if you don’t want others to know it."

As they sparred back and forth, her eyes glazed with a desire she found shocking. Sex wasn’t something she thought much about. Sure she had seduced Ian, but that was only a physical release. This was something more – a connection on all levels. And it scared her. It scared the hell out of her. It made her realize that she really did have a heart in her chest after all.

"If you knew me better, Country, you’d know to stay the hell away from me. I’m more trouble than you can handle, Mr. Small Town Boy."

Mitch had reached the point where he had had enough. He wasn’t going to listen to her tell him who he could and couldn’t get involved with. So he decided to show her exactly what he was thinking and feeling.

He reached around the back of her neck thrusting her forward so he could claim her lips. It was thoroughly unprofessional, but he’d gone past professional the minute he walked into the room. His mouth roamed against hers tracing her lips with his tongue.

For a moment she remained stiff but as his tongue touched hers, she moaned and pressed into him harder meeting him and matching him kiss for fervent kiss.

"This is crazy," he muttered against her mouth. "We hardly know each other."

As he mashed his mouth to her one more time, neither noticed someone walk into the room. That same person clearing their throat brought a bit of sanity back into his head.

"What is it?" he asked, pressing his forehead into Gia’s.

"Looks like one of those head honcho guys are coming this way. I thought maybe you might want the heads up. Didn’t expect to see you two going at it like that. My, the young work fast these days. I was going to give you a month before you got up your gumption and asked the lady out. I see I was mistaken." Maddie sniffed and walked back out into the hallway checking the man’s progress."

"Thank you, Maddie." Mitch said the words as calmly as he could but he didn’t recognize his voice. It was a husky imitation of his normal speech.

"Okay, I guess you want me to go now?"

"That would be preferable." Mitch turned back to Gia hoping to not see regret in her eyes. All that stared back at him was that glassy eyed indifference. She’d reverted back into her mask of security. He wondered if he’d ever be able to break through it again. "I’d better see what the man wants. But know this Gia Doyle, we’re not through with this conversation."

He strode out with a new purpose. Why did Gia have a feeling she’d never see him again?

Why had he ever come up here?

Ian Fairchild wiped the fog from the window trying to see better out of the old pickup’s windshield. He couldn’t believe Ethan still had his old truck. Maybe that meant Ethan was on his side? He could only hope that their twin connection helped his brother believe that he was innocent of the lies Faith had spread about him.

The deception was even bigger than Ian ever imagined. He had become the dead scapegoat on which to dump the sins of the world. Or at least, the sins of the Legacy. And who could blame them? In their position, would he do the same thing to some other unsuspecting schmuck?

His biggest concern was Julian. So far he had been able to avoid Julian Black, head of the Black Council, but soon he knew Black would find a way to cross paths with him. This time, he was sure Julian would make sure the deed was done correctly. This time Julian would want him dead -- probably thrown into a furnace. At least ashes couldn’t come alive again and bring destruction onto Faith.

He could remember the fury in Julian’s ebony eyes back at the underground lab.

There were few clear details in his mind about the events at the underground lab. He could remember Julian’s hate piercing eyes, Faith’s scream and Gia.

The lovely Gia.

There was a patience there he could tell few had ever seen or witnessed. Even when faced with taunts from Chandelor Knight and Julian, Gia had still remained on his side.

And he didn’t know why.

He had used her in a selfish way. He knew that. And he suspected she did too. They hadn’t known each other more than a day before falling into bed with one another. At one point, he thought he heard her scream Ethan’s name, and at the time, he ignored the word. He and Ethan were easily confused. They were twins after all.

Maybe Ethan was the reason Gia slept with him. Ian hadn’t been around for three years. He didn’t know what people’s motivations were now. Maybe Ethan and Gia had an affair at one time. He didn’t want to contemplate the possibilities.

He just wanted to get away. Away from Faith. Away from Julian and away from the Legacy and all its inhabitants.

Away from women period.

Snow turned to ice pellets as the pickup climbed up the mountain. Going to the mountains had always centered him. It was in the mountains where he learned to love woodworking. Funny how the mind remembered such trivial things. And if he hadn’t gone to the mountains he would have been back at Smith Island in his wood shop carving a chair or a bird house. Anything to get his mind off of Faith and her betrayal. The pain was still ripe in his chest. Too ripe too deal with adequately.

He wiped at the windshield again as he passed a small sign for Jackson Pass. He’d never been to the small town, but he’d been through there many times in the past. It was a quaint little village that had stepped back in time. A place where he believed people’s word meant something. A place where the women who were in love with the men didn’t betray them.

Tonight he would have to stop there before continuing on up the mountain to the summit. Maybe he’d find out if his assessment of their little town was correct.

Up ahead the road became precariously narrow. Somehow every trip up the mountain he had encountered a car or bus at this exact point. He wondered if the folks up here had stranger radar and rumbled by just to give him a rise in his blood pressure.

This night was no different than the rest.

A tractor trailer came around the bend flashing blinding high beams into his eyes. He would have been okay if the road hadn’t been icy and he hadn’t been distracted thinking of Faith and the little town of Jackson Pass. The big rig honked at him. The noise startled him, and he slid into a side skid. He was pretty far up the mountain now. Far enough that a drop off the edge of the road could mean death. And maybe that wasn’t so bad.

He had been dead and maybe dead was where he should have remained. The rig careened by nipping the pickup flat against its bed. The truck was now spinning and skidding, and the edge was getting closer. Ian did everything he could think of to bring the truck out of the deadly slide. Nothing he tried worked. Moments later, the white and red pickup bucked over the guard rail.

Ian’s head crashed against the windshield with a sickening thud.