Chapter 1
"PART 2
Jackson’s question hung between them like a blade.
“With my baby?”
Eliza tried to answer, but fear closed around her throat.
Jackson looked from her trembling hands to the packed traveling bag, then back to the tiny yellow dress lying on the floor.
“Yes,” she finally whispered. “The baby is yours.”
Jackson went completely still.
For months, Eliza had imagined anger, disbelief, even cold obligation.
She had never imagined the look that crossed his face.
It was heartbreak.
“And you were going to disappear?”
“I thought it was better.”
“Better for whom?”
“For you.” Her voice cracked. “Your ranch is failing. You can barely pay your men. If I told you, you'd think I expected marriage because of the baby.”
Jackson stared at her.
“And if I married you?”
“I'd never know whether you wanted me or simply believed you had to.”
He stepped closer.
“Eliza, look at me.”
She couldn't.
Jackson gently lifted her chin.
“I've spent four months wondering why the only woman who ever made this house feel alive suddenly started avoiding me.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“You never said you loved me.”
“No.” His jaw tightened. “Because I'm a fool.”
A sudden pounding at the front door shattered the moment.
“Mr. Thorne!” the foreman shouted from downstairs. “Rider coming!”
Jackson frowned and hurried toward the window.
A lone horseman was crossing the snowy yard.
Minutes later, a well-dressed stranger entered the study carrying a leather case.
“Jackson Thorne?”
“Yes.”
The stranger handed him an envelope.
“I'm Samuel Whitaker, attorney for the late Silas Thorne.”
Jackson stiffened.
His father had been dead twelve years.
“There must be some mistake.”
“No mistake.”
Jackson tore open the envelope.
His face changed as he read.
“What is it?” Eliza whispered.
Jackson looked toward the black trunk.
Whitaker followed his gaze.
“Your father instructed me to wait until you opened that trunk yourself.”
Jackson slowly turned.
“Why?”
The attorney's answer silenced the room.
“Because the trunk contains proof that Thorne Ranch was never yours to lose.”
He opened his case and removed an old deed.
Then he looked directly at Eliza.
“And strangely enough, Mrs. Hart, your mother's name appears on it too.”
Eliza froze.
“My mother?”
Whitaker nodded.
“The child you're carrying may be heir to something neither of you knows exists.”
Jackson reached for her hand.
But before Eliza could take it, Whitaker placed one final sealed letter on the desk.
Across the front were four words:
**FOR ELIZA HART'S CHILD.**