Husband Wanted: Will Train

"I think there's something you haven't considered," he told her one evening over coffee.

"What's that?" she asked, stirring cream into her cup.

"The baby."

She looked up quickly. "What do you mean?"

"The baby has a right to know its father."

She looked away, pain like a knife in her heart. "I know, but-"

"Char." He put a hand on her arm. "I want you to think about this. I know you claim you hate our parents for what they did when we were young. You think their way of life ruined ours, and that living with Aunt Doris was the best thing that ever happened to you."

She nodded, wondering what he was getting at.

He touched her cheek affectionately with his free hand. "I want you to consider this. I don't think, deep down, that you really feel that way. I think your bitterness, your resentment, comes from being sent away to Aunt Doris."

Her eyes widened. "But that doesn't make sense. They had to send us away. They were going to prison."

"I know. But emotions aren't logical." His hand tight ened on her arm. "Think about it. Isn't that really why you're so angry with them? Aren't you really angry be cause they denied you a set of parents when you most needed them? Aunt Doris was wonderful to us, it's true. And she taught us a lot.. But she wasn't Mama. She couldn't take Dad's place. Isn't that right?"

Charity stared at him. She didn't want to admit there might be some truth in what he said. It would hurt too much.

"Charity, listen. Don't do the same thing to your baby. Don't deny this child its father. Let the kid be a Bennington or whatever…"

"Wait. I guess I never told you. Ross isn't really a Bennington. I mean, his mother is, but his father is a Carrington."

"A Destiny Bay Carrington?"

"Yes."

Mason gazed at her in wonder. "Are you kidding? For a couple of years, Scott Carrington was one of my best buddies. He's the one who's a pilot now. Great guy. And Ross is probably a cousin of his."

She shrugged. "Whatever."

"Hey, honey, you can't turn your back on the whole Carrington family."

She pulled away from him and rose from the couch. "I'll do what I have to do, Mason. Regardless of your half- baked theories." Angry with him and with herself, she left him sitting in the late-evening gloom.

But late in the night, she couldn't shake the things he'd said. She lay on her back, running her hand over her stomach in hopes of feeling the baby move the tiny little arms and legs it was busy developing, and it came to her that Mason was right.