'Would I do that to my own child?'

'You wouldn't even know you were doing it,' she said despairingly. 'But you mustn't do this. Go away, Garth. Leave us alone. We were happy without you-'

'Was Cindy?'

'All right, we weren't happy, but we survived.'

'And you don't think you could be happy with me around?'

'I don't think anyone could be happy with you around,' she said desperately. 'You don't bring happiness, or know how to create it. You only know things. Getting them, winning them, and buying them. Go back to that. You're good at it. But with people, you only destroy…'

Her voice choked off, and she turned sharply away.

'What is it?' Garth asked, coming after her.

'Nothing!'

'You're not crying, are you?'

'No, I'm not crying,' she insisted, quickly brushing her eyes. For a moment she'd been shaken by the thought of Garth here, ruining her hard-won peace. But she definitely wasn't crying.

'Here, let me look at you,' he said, turning her to face him. He pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed her eyes. 'There's no need to get upset about this.' His voice softened. 'I'm not really so bad, Faye.'

'Yes, you are,' she said huskily, almost hating him for that gentle note. She could cope with him angry, but gentleness recalled too many sweet memories that she had to block out to survive.

'Then teach me to be better. While I'm here you can show me how to get closer to the children, the way you've always said I should.'

'You're not going to stay here,' she insisted, desperately trying to hold her position against his clever tactics. 'The house is too small.'

'Then you know the answer. Move back to Elm Ridge, which is big enough for all of us.'

'Never. It's all over. You've got to accept that.'

'And suppose I don't choose to?' His voice was quiet, but the undertone of stubborn determination still throbbed through it.