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Page 417

| truth. Looking into this crippled man's eyes was almost the same as looking into Bianca's! The few times he had seen her face to face, he had been intrigued by her green eyes, since most Aborigines' eyes were dark. |

| "I turned my back on my daughter," Silas said, his voice weakening. "I won't on my grandson." He lifted his arms toward the child. "Give him to me. Since his mother, my daughter, has abandoned him, he is now rightfully mine." |

| "If you think I would ever consider handing over my son to the likes of you, grandfather or not, you are even more daft than I thought," Ashton growled. |

| He took a step closer to the edge of the porch, flipping his other revolver from its holster. He cocked both guns, steading his aim on Silas. "I won't bother to count this time," he warned. "I aim to just shoot. If you want to live to see another day, then I'd suggest you not try any more talk on us and get the hell out of here." |

| He inched his way off the porch, taking the steps slowly and calculatingly. "Don't ever come out here again with your threats," he warned. "You won't be allowed to get near my wife and children again." |

| "You owe me," Silas said, his eyes wet with tears. |

| "You son of a bitch, I owe you nothing," Ashton said. "Now get!" |

| Silas emitted a low throaty sob, almost choking on it as he gazed with a deep longing at Tobias, then slapped the horse's rump with the reins, made a wide circle in the drive, and rode off. |

| His heart pounding, Ashton watched until Silas was only a dot on the horizon. |

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