by Elsie Davis
He drove to Charlie’s Diner, intent on talking to her, not only about her reaction, but also to learn more about Byron. And he wasn’t leaving Riverbend until he had answers to both. Because the only thing he knew for sure was that his brother would never help Becky. Jack had only ever thought of himself his whole life, taking after their dad.
Steve parked his Navigator in front of Charlie’s and made his way inside, the overhead bell ringing as he stepped through the door. “Welcome to Charlie’s,” the server at the bar called out and waved. “Have a seat and we’ll be right with you.” The table he’d sat at before was empty—a table he knew Becky would be serving—and so he made his way over to it.
Becky came through the swinging door, her gaze landing on him as she grabbed a couple of menus from the holder. She froze.
He smiled and waved, hoping to put her at ease after yesterday’s awkward meeting. He hadn’t helped by being a bit of a jerk, his shock at her being at the house and asking for Jack not settling well at the onset.
Becky spoke with the server behind the counter, the two women talking in hushed tones, Steve unable to catch their voices. The other server glanced his way and then back at Becky and shrugged. She took the menus from Becky and headed his way.
Interesting. It looked as though Becky intended to give him the cold shoulder.
“Welcome to Charlie’s. My name is Katie, and I’ll be your server. What can I get you to drink?” The young brunette smiled, none of Becky’s coldness rubbing off on her.
“I’ll have an iced tea,” he said. “Is there a reason Becky doesn’t want to wait on her own table?” Direct was the only approach he knew. Katie’s smile faded right before she glanced down at her order pad and then over at Becky.
She turned her gaze back on him and shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’m sure you know better than I do, since she’s not wanting to wait on you. Maybe you should ask her that question yourself.” Katie’s smile returned, but this time not as bright. “I’ll be right back with your tea. Today’s special is creamy mac & cheese. I highly recommend it.” She held out a menu.
“The special is fine. Can you tell Becky I’d like to talk to her? Tell her it’s important. I just need five minutes of her time.”
“Okay, but I’m not sure it’s going to do any good.” Katie shrugged.
Time for a different approach. “Can I ask you one other question?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“I noticed Becky has a son, Byron. Is she married to Byron’s father?” He shouldn’t have asked, and he knew it the minute the question slipped out. It was crossing personal lines.
“So that’s what this is about. You’re interested in her.” Katie’s brow notched upward, the question in her gaze unmistakable.
Steve wanted to correct her, but it was at least partly true. “Maybe.” He grinned, hoping to gain a confidante in Katie.
“She’s single. Never been married. And to the best of my knowledge, Byron’s father’s never been in the picture. You seem like a nice guy. Whatever you did to make her mad, you need to figure it out if you want a chance to take her out.” She winked and walked away.
It was nothing more than he expected. The only line he wouldn’t cross was asking for the name of Byron’s father. He knew better than to ask anyone other than Becky for that information. He didn’t claim to know much about women, but this much he did know.
“Becky,” he called out as she came closer on her way to the kitchen. She slowed and looked toward him. “I need to talk to you. Please, it’s important.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t have time to talk. I’m extremely busy.” With only three other customers in the restaurant, she had to be lying, but he let it go. He wasn’t going to bother her where she worked and get her into trouble.
Katie took good care of him for the rest of his lunch. He picked up his bill and headed for the register, where she met him to ring up the bill.
“What time does Becky get off work?” Steve asked.
“She’s my friend, so you’re putting me in a tough place. But I also know how stubborn she can be sometimes. She gets off at three. That’s when she picks up Byron from school and takes him home.” Katie handed him his change.
He smiled, dropping the few dollars and coins in the jar. “Thanks.” He picked up the fundraiser jar, staring closely at the picture—more specifically, Byron’s picture. There was some resemblance to the Parker family, though he still couldn’t be sure. But it was the only thing that added up that would justify Becky’s strange behavior. He hoped he was wrong, but he doubted it.
He jotted his number on the back of his receipt and handed it to Katie. “Here’s my number. Can you give it to Becky, please? Tell her I have something important to discuss with her. And that if I don’t hear from her, I’ll be back tomorrow to sit in her section again, and every day until she talks to me. I’m not leaving town until that happens.”
“You are persistent.” Katie smiled.
You have no idea. “It’s important,” he repeated.
Steve left, intent on visiting a couple more local landowners, trying to get a sense of the impact the drought had on their farms and ranches. By five o’clock, he’d visited several, garnering bits and pieces of information that told of the dire straits several of them were facing. He also realized Becky wasn’t going to call. It looked like he’d be eating lunch at Charlie’s again tomorrow because he’d meant what he’d said—he wasn’t giving up.
His phone rang, and Steve jumped to answer it, thinking—hoping—it was Becky. But Jerry Anderson’s name lit up the screen. The president of the Cattlemen’s Association must have something important to discuss because the meeting for tomorrow night had already been arranged. “Hey, Jerry.”
“Hey. I heard you’re in town already. Meeting’s not till tomorrow night.” The man was direct and to the point, a quality Steve admired.
“I know. I’ve been asked to check into some things by the lead investigator. Remember, though, I’ll get more helpful information if nobody knows that I’m working with you.”
“I understand. And I’m grateful you’re trying to help. I know the position this put you in, but we need you.” Going up against my father? Yeah, it was definitely a position, but Jerry was wrong thinking Steve didn’t welcome it—he did. The chance to put his father in his place, more than worth it.
“So, what’s going on?” Steve asked, curious what prompted the call.
“The rumors about the McDougall ranch are no longer rumors. Travis got his final eviction notice. He’s got thirty days to make the payment to catch up his loan or they’re seizing the property.”
Unbelievable. “I wish there was something I could do, but four weeks just isn’t much time.”
“I get it. Just thought you should know.” Jerry sounded frustrated, and rightfully so.
“Thanks for the heads up. I need to find out who’s backing the savings and loan. There’s got to be a connection we’re missing.” Follow the money was a good motto when it came to dirty dealings.
“Well, until we figure it out, this is just going to keep happening.”
“I hear you.” Steve ended the call and let out a deep sigh just as a text came through.
Harry: Poll numbers just updated, and you slipped another two points.
Steve cringed. His dream had been to advocate for those who needed a voice, and now his best shot at it was fading away.
Marriage. An arranged marriage. Jen’s friend. Make it worth her while.
Becky’s face came to mind. He needed to get married to have any shot at winning the D.A.’s seat, and she needed the insurance coverage for her son’s surgery. Mutually beneficial.
A temporary wife.
“Temporary” had a beautiful ring to it, enough to be willing to put a ring on her finger and make sure they had an exit plan in place. It w
as the perfect solution. Becky was easy on the eyes and had a gentle spirit. How hard could it be to live with her and her son for a short time?
The more he thought about it, the better he liked the sound of it. But getting Becky to agree had one big problem—she wasn’t even talking to him right now.
And the clock was ticking. He wouldn’t be in town for long and waiting for Becky to come around and talk to him wasn’t going to work. Left with no choice, he knew what he had to do. A couple of phone calls was all it took before he had her address.
At her place, they could talk privately. And with any luck, he’d get to meet Byron and see the boy who was possibly his nephew for himself. The very idea brought him an unusual and complex reaction. He was excited to think Byron could be the next generation of Parkers, something Steve never considered would happen, judging by Jack and his reticence to the holy state of matrimony.
But then came the fear the kid would turn out messed up like all the other Parkers and the very reason Steve didn’t want children.
Chapter Five
Becky was outside watching Byron as he played on the sidewalk in front of the house. She sat on the porch stoop, laughing at his antics as he pretended to be a race car driver. It was by far his favorite game, and Becky worried he’d grow up and become a driver, something that scared the heck out of her. At times, she let herself dream he’d become a doctor, not that they could afford medical school. Luckily, those decisions were a long way off. She smiled at her son as he waved. Life wasn’t fair, but they’d get through this like everything else.
A white Lincoln Navigator pulled up to the curve. Becky appreciated the caution the driver used having spotted Byron, the extra-slow speed obvious as the vehicle came to a stop.
“Byron, come here for a minute.” She didn’t know who it was, but people who drove such expensive vehicles didn’t typically come around to this side of town and park. Becky had no qualms exercising her right to be overprotective.
“Coming.” Byron ran toward her. “What is it, Mommy?” His sweet, innocent smile warmed her heart the same way it did every time he looked at her with his big, brown eyes.
“We have a visitor, honey, but I don’t know who it is. You remember we had this talk about strangers and what to do?”
“Yes, I remember. I’ll stay right here next to you.”
“Good.” Becky stood up, trying to make out the driver, but the tinted windows made it difficult. The door opened, and a man got out. As he came around the front of the vehicle, Becky recognized him immediately.
Steve. What was he doing here? And more importantly, how did he know where she lived? “Go sit on the porch, Byron. I’ll handle this.”
“Who is it, Mommy?”
“Someone I know from the diner. Do as I ask, please.” She met Steve halfway down the sidewalk. “What are you doing here?” she asked, hands on her hips and not bothering to temper the tone of her voice. “How dare you come to my home.”
“I’m sorry to show up unannounced, but I really do need to talk to you.” He looked out of place, his dress slacks, blue dress shirt, and tie, not something often seen in this section of Riverbend. It did, however, surprise her that he didn’t look at all uncomfortable.
“I don’t owe you anything, and I’m not required to talk to you.” She folded her arms in front of her chest as if to put a wall between them.
“However, you did agree to an ice cream date,” he said, a teasing smile on his face. “One, I might add, you stood me up on. I’d say that entitles me to an explanation at the very least.”
Becky frowned, although it didn’t stop the tiny rush of pleasure that shot through her. Considering his displeasure when she’d arrived on his doorstep asking for his brother, the last thing she’d expected him to do was show up for their date. But it didn’t change anything—Steve Parker was off-limits. “I broke the date. And?”
“Do you make a habit of going back on your word?” He took a step closer, his voice dropping a notch and becoming more tender. It made it harder to stay mad and harder to resist the kindness in his expression.
Becky edged back, finding it easier to stay focused if she kept her distance. She’d found him attractive and all too appealing before she knew who he was, and apparently her body and her brain weren’t operating on the same wavelength. “I don’t date, so no.”
“That’s nice to know. Makes me feel somewhat better.” Steve stepped to the side and glanced toward the porch.
Becky reached for his arm, her heart racing as she realized his intentions. The last thing she wanted was for Byron and Steve to meet. “Byron, go inside the house,” she said, using a gentle but firm voice, hoping she wouldn’t scare her son.
“Okay, Mommy.” Her son pulled the screen door open, prepared to do as he was told.
“Wait, Byron,” Steve called out. “I was hoping to meet you, young man.”
Byron paused, glancing back and forth between her and Steve, unsure what to do.
Steve was more observant than most people. Keeping Byron away from him was the best way to prevent Steve from connecting the very large dots she’d all but drawn for him. She sensed that if he had any inkling of the truth, he wouldn’t let go. His tenacity might be a great character trait in the courtroom, but it wasn’t anything she wanted used against her.
“Fine. Byron, this is Steve Parker. He’s someone I met at Charlie’s. He was a very generous donor toward helping with your medical expenses. Perhaps you should tell him thank you and then go inside and play with Julia there.”
Steve extended his hand and shook Byron’s.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Steve. And thanks for whatever a donor is.” Byron smiled up at him.
“You’re welcome, young man. But no thanks are needed. I just want to see you get healthy.” Steve ruffled Byron’s hair. Correction, Uncle Steve ruffled his hair.
Becky flinched, not wanting to acknowledge the truth, but unable to change the facts. “Now that you’ve met him, it’s time for him to go inside. Whatever you need to say to me can be said out here. In private.” The likes of a Parker had probably never stepped foot in a house like the one she lived in, and she wasn’t about to let that happen today. Not on her watch.
“Yes, Mom. It was nice to meet you, sir.”
“You too, kiddo.” Steve smiled.
Becky let out a deep sigh of relief as Byron waved and headed inside, and Steve didn’t try to stop him. She’d have to remember to tell Byron what an excellent job he’d done in both his manners and his listening to her later tonight when she tucked him into bed. Extra hugs and kisses were definitely in order.
She swallowed hard and turned to face Steve. “Okay, so now that you’ve met him, have you satisfied your curiosity?” Becky couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice. This whole situation could blow up in her face, and after five years of staying off Jack’s radar, she didn’t want anything to change.
“Not really. Why did you stand me up yesterday?” Steve leaned against the porch post, his confidence far surpassing her own.
“As if that’s not obvious. You’re Jack’s brother. That makes things a bit awkward.” Especially given her attraction to the man. Something she hadn’t felt for anyone in years.
“Awkward? You said you were friends. Can’t you be friends with your friend’s family?”
She hadn’t realized how that sounded in the moment and wished she could take the words back. “No. That’s not what I meant. It’s just that…it made me uncomfortable. I really need to talk to Jack, and what I need to discuss with him is personal. I don’t have time for new friendships, and I shouldn’t have agreed to go to the ice cream parlor with you in the first place.”
Backing out of the whole situation would be for the best, for everyone concerned. She had to put Byron above her own desires, ones that included Steve.
“Is Jack Byron’s father?
”
Becky jerked back, caught off guard by his direct question. “No! No, he’s not.” She corrected, trying to soften her automatic first response. The palms of her hand started to sweat as she twisted them, her rapid breaths causing her to feel lightheaded.
“Then who is?” His voice was soft and low, but the short and to the point question went straight to the heart of the matter and was the very information she’d kept to herself since the day she found out she was pregnant.
“That’s none of your business.” Hands on her hips, she faced him down, using a steely mask of reserve to cover the emotions threatening to take control.
“In a way, it is. I promise you, Becky, I only want to help.” The man must be amazing in the courtroom given his ability to ask the right questions with unrelenting persistence.
Becky bit, her curiosity piqued just enough she couldn’t resist asking the question. “How’s that?”
“It’s obvious Byron’s father isn’t in the picture. It’s obvious you need help with medical expenses. And as an attorney who has made a dedicated effort to track down DBDs and make them pay, I want to make it my business to help you. I’m running for district attorney, and I plan to make it one of my primary office challenges.”
“DBDs?”
“Deadbeat Dads.” Steve stood there, nonchalant as he answered the question, but it was the tone in which he delivered the words that told her of his passion against dads who skirted their responsibilities.