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“Dean should have told you,” Brig corrected.

“So what happened—to Jackie, and Martha and the baby?” Dean’s baby. Why hadn’t he confided in her? Had he ever seen his own child? What had he been thinking all these years?

Ian acted as if he didn’t like talking about it, but he decided to finally let the truth come out. “Martha and Jackie moved to L.A.”

“So that part wasn’t a lie.” It was little consolation.

“No.”

“But that doesn’t explain why Martha never wrote me.” Becca’s face was filled with genuine concern and it twisted Ian’s old heart painfully.

“You have to understand, Missy, that Martha blames Dean for the pain he caused her daughter.”

“Because Dean didn’t marry her?”

Ian nodded. “In Martha’s eyes, Dean disgraced Jackie, though heaven knows what kind of a marriage it would have been.” He wiped the top of his balding head with his hand. “Jackie gave the baby up for adoption, and swore she’d never have another child. That’s a pretty rough statement. Martha thought she might never have another grandchild—one she could claim as her own. She offered to adopt the baby herself, but Jackie wouldn’t allow it. The girl claimed she hated the baby and wanted nothing to remind her of Dean.”

“And so Martha feels the same about me.”

Ian gritted his teeth. His faded blue eyes were cheerless as they held Becca’s gaze. “There are too many unhappy memories here for Martha. I don’t think she’ll ever come back.”

“Then you still hear from her?”

“Only once in a while. The missus, she sends Martha a Christmas card every year—that sort of thing.”

“Does Jackie know who adopted the child?”

Ian shook his head. “Wouldn’t even let the doctors tell her if it was a boy or a girl—refused to look at it when it was born. It was nearly the death of Martha. The child is better off with its adoptive parents,” Ian allowed.

Becca’s heart was heavy. “Didn’t Dean want to know about the baby?”

Ian shook his head. “He wouldn’t even talk to Jackie when she told him she was carrying his child.”

“Nice guy—that brother of yours,” Brig observed dryly.

When she ran her fingers over her forehead, Becca noticed that she had broken out in a sweat. She felt cold and empty inside. Why hadn’t Dean confided in her? “How is Jackie now?”

Ian brightened. “She’s fine, from what I understand. Married herself a young lawyer, she did.”

A wistful smile curved Becca’s lips. “Maybe Martha will get that grandchild yet.”

“I hope so,” Ian agreed.

“I’d like to call Martha or write to her. Do you have her number?”

Ian’s weak smile faded. “I don’t know if that would be wise,” he commented, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “No use in stirring up hard feelings.”

“Give it time,” Brig suggested.

“It’s been over five years!”

“Then a few more weeks won’t matter, will they?” Brig asked rhetorically.

“I’ll think about it—after I talk to Dean.”

Ian pinched his bottom lip with his teeth. “I don’t know if I’d go bringin’ it up to your brother, miss. He might not like the idea that we were talkin’ behind his back.”

“And I don’t like the idea that he didn’t level with me.”