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  "Ben won't be going to the World Series games, Papa."

  "What?" Victoria said.

  "As you know, Mama, they're night games, and Ben has school the next day."

  "That's ridiculous," Victoria shot back. Her large brown eyes flashed. "A little boy who has just discovered his father, and that father is playing in the World Series, should be allowed to go to the games."

  "Katharine doesn't see things quite that way," Daniel said.

  His father gave him a shrewd look. "Is she trying to keep the boy away from you?"

  "It's not her doing, Papa," Daniel said defensively. "It's that my baseball schedule constantly conflicts with Ben's schedule. It's very frustrating."

  "What do you mean?" his mother asked.

  "I'm free in the mornings, but Ben is in school. He is free three afternoons after school, but I am either due at the stadium for practice or I'm out of town. I get to take him out Saturday morning, if I'm in New York, and go to his soccer game on Sunday morning. I feel as if I never see him."

  "Most of your colleagues see very little of their children during the season," his father said. "It's part of the price you pay for being a major-league ballplayer."

  There was a white line around Daniel's mouth. "Most of my colleagues have known their children since birth. They aren't trying to make up for seven years of neglect."

  Rafael said, "You did not neglect Ben, Daniel. You didn't know about him. That is a very different thing."

  "I know, Papa. But put yourself in my shoes. How would you feel?"

  Rafael sighed. "Like you, I suppose."

  Victoria was still outraged that Ben would not be coming to watch Daniel play. "Rules are all very well," she said, "but there is a time when all rules deserve to be broken. Ben can miss a few days of school if he is too tired the following morning, but he should be allowed to go to the World Series games."

  As Daniel was in complete agreement with this sentiment, he did not reply.

  "Does he want to go?" Rafael asked.

  Daniel looked wry. "Yes, he does. And it is a sore point between Katharine and me that she will not allow him to go. So don't mention it, Mama, please, or you will make the situation worse."

  His father said, "She has been the boy's mother for almost his entire life, Daniel. You must respect her wishes."

  "I know, Papa."

  His mother said, "Well I think her wishes are unreasonable. That poor little boy. She probably won't even let him watch the games on television."

  Alberto came back into the room. "Maria is ready to serve dinner, Daniel."

  Daniel stood up and watched as his father held out a hand to his mother to help her to her feet. "I'm sure Maria has outdone herself for you, Mama," he said genially, changing the subject.

  "Your mother has already been in the kitchen to check on the menu," his father said.

  Victoria said with dignity, "I did not go in to check. I went to say hello to Maria." She took her husband's arm, and the four of them went down the hall to the dining room to eat Maria's famous Ajiaco de Polio Bogotano.

  Kate's eyes widened as they rested on the face of Victoria Montero. Surely this woman was too young to be Daniel's mother! But she was smiling and holding out her hand and saying in a charmingly accented voice, "I am so pleased to meet you, Miss Foley. We are so happy that Daniel has found his son."

  "How do you do, Mrs. Montero," Kate said, shaking hands.

  "And I am happy to meet you as well." Rafael Montero's voice was deep, his face was craggy, and his arrogant, hawklike beak was a harsher, bolder version of his son's proud nose. He was carrying what looked like a large album.

  Kate looked up at him. Clearly Daniel had got his height from his father. "I am happy to meet you as well, Mr. Montero." She gave a brief hello to Alberto, whom she had met before, and said, "Won't you please come in? Ben should be here any moment. You must have been just ahead of the school bus."

  They all went into the living room, and Kate noticed Victoria's quick scan of the room. Daniel's mother was dressed in a beautiful beige cashmere pantsuit while Kate wore her usual jeans, boots, and sweater. Her back stiffened.

  When they were seated, Rafael said, "I must thank you, Miss Foley, for being so gracious to my son. I am sure you must feel that he has disrupted your life."

  Kate was surprised. It was the last thing she had expected him to say. She actually gave him a smile. "Yes, it has been rather . . . disruptive . . . but Ben is so happy to have a father that I can't complain."

  The front door opened, and the adults in the room turned instinctively toward the living room door. Cyrus came trotting in and froze as he saw the newcomers. Kate snapped her fingers, and the dog came to her as Ben walked into the room. Everyone stared silently at the handsome, dark-haired boy, then Victoria began to weep.

  She said in Spanish, "Rafael, oh Rafael, it is like looking at Daniel again!"

  "Si," he said.

  Kate got up and went over to her son. "Ben, these are your father's parents—your grandparents." She led him to stand in front of the sofa where Victoria and Rafael were sitting side by side. "This is Ben."

  "Hello," Ben said shyly.

  Tears were flowing freely down Victoria's cheeks. "You look just like your father," she said and, ignoring Ben's politely extended hand, she enveloped him in a perfume-scented embrace from which Ben emerged with his hair ruffled and his cheeks reddened.

  Rafael said a little gruffly, "In Colombia we do not shake hands with our grandchildren," and he also hugged Ben, although not as violently as his wife. During these embraces, Kate had returned to the love seat.

  Ben gave Kate a look that was a cry for help.

  "Come and sit down," she said, patting the cushion next to her, and Ben scurried to her side. She looked at Daniel's parents. "What would you like Ben to call you?" she asked.

  "Grandmama and Grandpapa, of course," Victoria answered immediately.

  Kate nodded, and mentally gave Victoria a good mark. She did not look like the sort of woman who would relish being called Grandmama.

  Victoria gestured to the album, which Rafael had placed upon the coffee table. "I brought a picture album of our home in Colombia, and there are also pictures of your father when he was a little boy. Would you like to look at it?"

  The wary look disappeared from Ben's face. "Yeah!"

  "Well why don't you come and sit between me and Grandpapa, and I will show it to you?"

  Ben shot Kate a look, and she nodded. He got up and went to join his grandparents on the sofa. The three heads bent over the picture album, and Victoria said, "This is our home in Bogota, where your father was born."

  Kate looked politely toward Alberto, who was sitting in the blue-flowered armchair, and he said, "No lessons this afternoon, Miss Foley?"

  "I have a lesson in about a half an hour," she said. "I'll go down to the ring when my mother comes in."

  "I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting your mother," he said pleasantly. "She is a teacher, I believe?"

  Kate replied and continued the conversation with Alberto with half of her attention while the other half was focused on the threesome on the sofa. Ben appeared to be enjoying the pictures enormously.

  Fifteen minutes later, Molly walked in, and introductions were performed.

  Mom looks every bit as young as Daniel's mother, Kate thought loyally as she looked at her mother's pretty, fair-skinned face. Molly kissed Ben and shook hands all around before going to sit in the solid blue armchair.

  Kate looked at the clock on the mantel. "I'm sorry, but I have a lesson I must give. I'll leave you in the care of my mother."

  She was hoping she could just slip out quietly, but the Monteros insisted upon shaking her hand again and saying how much they appreciated her kindness, etc., etc., etc.

  Finally, Kate was on the drive walking in the direction of the riding ring. For Ben's sake she was pleased that the Monteros were so interested in him; she was not so pleased on her own behalf. It
seemed to her that her life and her home were becoming awfully cluttered with people since Daniel Montero had declared himself to be Ben's father.

  Back in the living room, Molly watched the rapt face of her grandson as he pored over the picture album. He looked up at her, eyes sparkling. "There's a picture of Daddy in his Little League uniform, Nana. We should show it to Mommy."

  Molly forced a smile. The last thing she wanted to see was a battle between Kate and Daniel over whether or not Ben should be allowed to play Little League. There was enough tension right now over whether or not he should be allowed to attend the World Series games.

  She said to Alberto, "I understand you are Daniel's secretary, Mr. Carrillo."

  "That is right," the slender, elegant-looking man replied. His dark hair was shot through with gray, and there was a grave look in his brown eyes that she found very appealing. "I took on the position a year ago to help Daniel out temporarily, and I have stayed longer than I planned. I will be returning to my post at the University of Bogota in January, however. Like you, my vocation is to teach."

  "Really?" Molly was surprised and pleased. "What is your subject, Mr. Carrillo?"

  "Mathematics."

  "You have my respect," Molly said. "I never understood anything after multiplication and division."

  "What do you teach, Mrs. Foley?"

  "English, which includes both literature and grammar."

  "I am quite fond of the romantic poets," he said.

  "Are you really? Do you have a favorite?"

  "Wordsworth."

  Wordsworth was one of Molly's favorite poets. She smiled.

  "Nana, look at this," Ben said. "It's a picture of Daddy in a cowboy outfit."

  Molly went to stand behind the sofa so she could see the album, which was resting on Victoria's lap. In the picture Daniel looked about twelve years of age and was dressed as a gaucho, with chaps and hat and furred vest.

  Molly laughed. "He looks as if he's enjoying himself."

  "We were visiting the ranch of a friend, and he was having a grand time chasing around after cattle," Rafael said reminiscently.

  Victoria turned the page, and they went on to the next picture.

  Later that evening, after Ben had gone to bed, Molly and Kate sat in the living room, and Kate said, "Don't you think it's odd that Daniel's mother and father should be so gaga over Ben?"

  "Why should it be odd?" Molly put down the paper she had been correcting. "You and I are certainly gaga about him."

  "It's odd because of the circumstances. Look at it objectively, Mom. A man finds out he has had an illegitimate child with a woman he knew for a couple of months. All right, if he's a good guy, he'll want to make sure that the kid has everything he needs. But would his parents want to meet the kid? Would they ask the kid to call them Grandmama and Grandpapa? I think it's definitely odd."

  Molly frowned. "I suppose, when you put it that way. . ."

  "That's the way it is."

  "Perhaps it has something to do with Colombian culture, this reverence for a biological child."

  "I don't think so."

  "Well, what do you think, then, dear? Do you think Daniel and his parents have some nefarious reason for being nice to Ben?"

  "Of course not."

  "Then why are you so concerned with their reasons? We should be grateful that they feel the way they do and that Ben has such a wonderful addition to his family."

  "I don't know about grateful," Kate said sardonically.

  "Why not? Surely it is better that he have more people to depend on than just you and me."

  "These people's interest comes with a price, Mom. Grandmama made one or two comments about Ben's not going to the World Series that I didn't appreciate. Just about the last thing I want is Daniel's mother butting into my relationship with my son. It's bad enough that I have to put up with Daniel."

  "Daniel has backed you up on your decision, dear. He hasn't tried to undercut you."

  "You must do as your mother wishes." Kate mimicked Daniel's deep voice. "He hasn't exactly thrown himself heart and soul behind me, Mom."

  "He doesn't agree with your decision, but he is supporting you. I think he has done very well."

  "You like him a lot, don't you?"

  "Yes, I do. He seems to be an admirable young man, and I don't agree with your decision either, Kate. I think Ben should be allowed to watch his father pitch."

  Kate's delicate, winged brows, which looked as if an artist had painted them with a fine brush, drew together. "You never said that before."

  "Like Daniel, I try not to come between you and your son. And I agree with you that Ben should not be allowed to go to all of the games, but I think he should go Thursday, when Daniel pitches. He can miss school on Friday, or he can go in late."

  Kate didn't reply, but got up and carried her teacup into the kitchen. Molly went back to correcting papers. She had put the ten o'clock news on when Kate finally came back into the room. 'All right," she said from the doorway. "Ben can go to the game on Thursday night."

  "I think that would be good for him," Molly said, refraining from commenting on Kate's unusual change of mind.

  Kate sighed and sat beside her mother on the sofa. "He's been . . . sad. . . that he can't go. If he had been mouthy, or angry, or just about anything else, I would have stuck to my guns. But he's just sad. I can't bear to see him that way."

  Molly smiled at her daughter. "I know how it feels. I once refused to let you go to the National Horse Show with your father because it was on a school night, and I gave in, too."

  Kate grinned. "I remember that. Daddy wanted me to see the Puissance Class."

  "It didn't hurt you to go to the horse show, and it won't hurt Ben to go to the game."

  "Probably not." Kate stretched her arms over her head. "I think I'll call Daniel and tell him I've changed my mind. He'll have to see about tickets."

  "Good idea," Molly said.

  "Do you want to come too, Mom?"

  "I'd love to come."

  "Okay, I'll tell him to get three more tickets."

  Molly smiled at her daughter's back as Kate left the room.

  * * *

  9

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  Daniel was running down the street. Sweat poured down his face, and his heart thundered in his ears. Behind him, in the car from which he had just escaped, lay his father's chauffeur, shot in the head.

  He ran, waiting for the bullets that would blast into his unprotected back, wincing away from the bullets that would kill him. It was three o'clock in the afternoon, in a residential neighborhood of Bogota, and his car had just been ambushed in the street by four thugs in a Mercedes. He pounded down the pavement, twenty-one years of age, strong and athletic and running for his life.

  He awoke with a start in his own bedroom in Greenwich, Connecticut. His heart was hammering in his ears, and he was covered in sweat. Dios, he thought. I have not had that dream in years.

  He switched on the light next to his bed and sat up, his back against the mahogany wood of the headboard. Where did that come from?

  It had been eight years since the henchmen of drug lord Pablo Escobar had tried to kidnap Daniel from the streets of Bogota, and he had thought the experience was behind him. He had survived, most probably because the kidnappers had had orders not to kill him. Angel Santos, his father's chauffeur, had not been so lucky. Rafael still paid a regular pension to Angel's wife and children.

  Perhaps it's having Ben, Daniel thought as he listened to the slowing of his heartbeat. Children make you feel so vulnerable. Didn't someone once say that he who has wife and child has given hostages to fortune?

  The adrenaline was still pumping through his body, and he knew he wasn't going to go back to sleep anytime soon. Thank God he wasn't pitching tonight. The way the rotation had fallen out for the World Series, he was due to start the second game tomorrow night, which would make him available to pitch the fifth game should the series go that far.
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br />   According to his mother, Ben had enjoyed looking at the picture album and had said he would like to visit Colombia. That's probably it, Daniel thought. The idea of Ben in Colombia was what provoked the dream. For the first time, he understood the fear he had heard in Kate's voice when she had said Ben could not go to visit his parents. For the first time he took comfort that Ben would be staying right here in civilized little Connecticut, with his school and his soccer and his dream of playing Little League baseball.

  A line of moonlight was slanting in through the not-quite-closed blinds, and he slid down onto his pillow so it would not shine directly into his eyes. His thoughts drifted to Kate.

  He had never met a woman like her. She was beautiful, but she seemed oblivious to her appearance. He had never met a woman with fewer feminine wiles. Her weapon was her intelligence; not once had she tried to influence him by using sexual attraction.

  She was full of intensity, but he thought she was yet un-awakened to sexual passion. She was like the sleeping princess in the fairy tale, waiting for the right man to come along and kiss her into life.

  "I haven't had time." It was her single excuse for the narrow life she led. She hadn't time for a boyfriend, hadn't time to go to the movies, hadn't time to shop for nice clothes, hadn't time to talk on the telephone with friends. What time she had left from Ben she devoted to the stable and her horses.

  And she appeared perfectly content. That was what amazed Daniel. She didn't appear to need anything more than what she had.

  He had been elated to learn that she had decided to allow his son to come to the Thursday night game. He knew that part of her original decision to keep Ben home had been her dislike of the publicity that would inevitably surround their attendance. The cameras would focus on Ben and Kate, who made a devastatingly attractive mother-son duo, and, just in case there was someone in the universe who hadn't heard it by now, the announcers would drag up the story of how he and Ben had found each other. There was nothing Daniel could do to stop the cameras from rolling or the announcers from talking or the papers from reporting. It was the price he paid for being a star.