admit.
Jill couldn’t quite bring herself to look at Vince. “The key to Shady Oak’s success is in our luxurious accommodations and isolation. Wireless service doesn’t work here. Without the daily distractions of e-mail and cell-phone calls, my clients can focus and be more productive.” Her parents had alternately complained and praised that aspect of Shady Oak on one of their rare visits. “Edda Mae is a wonderful storyteller. She has a Native American story with a moral to fit every situation. We promise at least one story each booking.”
Vince was frowning at his BlackBerry. “And the vacation homes?”
“The plan I support for growth is to build a gated community of luxury vacation homes on a first-class golf course. The casino doesn’t benefit Railroad Stop residents equally—the profits will go to the tribe.”
His head shot up with the oddest expression, a mixture of wariness and disbelief. “It’s an Indian casino. What about taxes? Jobs? Which will provide you with more?”
“Long-term, jobs would be a wash, I think. A successful casino might bring in more in tax revenue in the long run. But you’d have to gamble on it being special enough to be a destination, and ‘special’ costs money. There are other casinos closer to civilization in the valley that are an easier drive.”
Vince peered at her intently, then laughed. “Nice try. I think I’ll wait for Arnie’s projections.”
Unexpectedly disappointed that Vince didn’t trust her, Jill bit her lip and let her gaze fall to the floor.
Thunder rumbled overhead, filling the awkward void between them.
“You never got around to telling me why you left me,” Vince said gently.
Jill’s head shot up. “You accused me—”
“Let’s not circle back to that.” There was no anger in Vince’s expression, only compassion. This was the Vince she’d married.
“I’m not proud I left, Vince. You offered me something I wasn’t ready to take.” Jill’s voice was brittle from years of guilt. “We were kids ourselves. After what happened I couldn’t—”
“I would have waited. I told you on our wedding night—”
Hugging herself, Jill stepped back. “You don’t understand. It wasn’t about us sleeping… ” She choked on the word. Jill willed herself to keep it together. “You don’t…I…I left Las Vegas because I was ashamed.”
“No one knew about Craig but you and me.”
“I’m not talking about Craig,” Jill said, tightening her arms about herself. “I was ashamed that I couldn’t be sure…that I didn’t know…You had no doubts, but I was going to have a baby that was created from an act of violence. I wasn’t sure I could love it.”
It was a rare occasion that left Vince speechless.
“I knew what it was like to grow up without love. I came second to our family casino. I couldn’t do that to another child,” Jill whispered. “And if you loved the baby and I couldn’t, our marriage would have been a terrible mistake.” A far bigger mistake than it had been.
“You could have said something,” Vince returned gruffly. “I would have understood.”
“You would have tried to convince me I’d learn to love the baby.” Vince could coerce the devil if he wanted to. Once on a class field trip to an amusement park, he’d persuaded Jill to try a crazy-scary roller coaster. Her stomach still flipped at the memory. “I was getting over the shock of what happened. By the time I realized how I felt, we were married.”
“You would have given Teddy up for adoption?” She’d never seen Vince so dumbfounded.
Jill nodded. She forced her arms to relax, brought an image of Teddy as a baby to mind and found herself smiling. “But I loved Teddy from the second I laid eyes on him.”
“Then why didn’t you come back?”
“Because you deserved so much more out of life than a broken woman and another man’s child.” Drained, Jill wanted nothing more than to collapse on a chair.
“At least you were