children of abusers from marrying and having children of their own.
Think of the risks we'd avoid."
"Why don't you just geld them?" he said viciously.
"That's an interesting concept." She leaned forward. "Since you're so
determined not to pass on any unhealthy genes, Ethan, have you
considered a vasectomy?"
The instinctive and purely male cringe nearly made her laugh. "That's
enough, Anna."
"Is that what you would recommend to Seth?"
"I said that's enough."
"Oh, it's more than enough," she agreed. "But answer this last question.
Do you think that bright, troubled child should be denied a full and
normal life as an adult because he had the bad luck to be conceived by a
heartless, perhaps even evil woman?"
"No." His breath shuddered out. "No, that's not what I think."
"No buts this time? No qualifications? Then I'll tell you that in my
professional opinion, I couldn't agree with you more. He deserves
everything he can grab, everything he can make, and everything we can
give him to show him that he's his own person and not the damaged
product of one vile woman. And neither are you, Ethan, anything but your
own man. Stupid, maybe," she said with a smile as she rose. "But
admirable, honorable, and incredibly kind."
She went to him, put an arm around his shoulders. When he sighed, turned
his face to press it against her midriff, tears stung her eyes.
"I don't know what to do."
"Yes, you do," she murmured. "Being you, you'll have to think about it
for a while. But do yourself a favor this time, and think fast."
"I guess I'll go down to the boatyard and work until I get it clear in
my head."
Because she was feeling suddenly maternal toward him, she bent and
kissed the top of his head. "Do you want me to pack you some food?"
"No." He gave her a squeeze before he rose. When he saw that her eyes
were damp, he patted her shoulder. "Don't cry. Cam'll have my head if he
finds out I made you cry."
"I won't."
"Well, then." He started out, hesitated, then turned back briefly to
study her as she stood in the kitchen, her lashes wet, her hair tangled
from being out in the breeze. "Anna, my mother--my real mother," he
added, because Stella Quinn was in his mind all that was real--"would
have loved you."
Hell, Anna thought as he walked away, she was going to cry after all.
Ethan kept going, particularly when he heard Anna's sniffle. He needed
to be alone, to clear out his head and let the thoughts gather again.
"Hey."
With his hand on the door, he looked over his shoulder and saw Seth on
the stairs--where the boy had dashed like a skillful rabbit seconds
before Ethan had started out of the kitchen.
"Hey what?"
Seth started down, slowly. He'd heard everything, every word. Even when
his stomach had begun to pitch, he had stayed and listened. As he