Honeysuckle Dreams

by Denise Hunter

  “Yes, I’m here to pick up a ring that was being resized. Zoe Collins.” She handed over the claim ticket.

  “Let me get that for you, hon. Be right back.” The woman slipped through the door at the back of the store.

  Hope wandered to the next case and began perusing the sparkly diamond rings. Sometimes she envied Zoe and Cruz, so in love, with a darling four-year-old daughter in tow. Their lives were already underway, when Hope just felt . . . stuck.

  You are not stuck.

  She had her work, and an exciting opportunity at WKPC. If her love life lagged a little behind that of her friends, well, it would keep. She was only twenty-four, still young even by Southern standards. There was plenty of time for a husband and a few little cherubs.

  But not plenty of time to get to Brady’s. She checked her watch and said a quick prayer against the traffic. She’d made it all the way around the store before the saleswoman returned.

  “Ah, here we are.” The woman opened a box and slipped the ring from its sleeve.

  Boy howdy, it was a gorgeous piece, winking under the lights like the North Star. It was a princess cut with a band that was just a little old-fashioned. Cruz had chosen well.

  Hope took the ring and slipped it on, forcing it over her knobby knuckle. She admired the ring, waggling her fingers a little so the lights caught it just right, imagining for a moment that it was really hers. From a man who was head over heels for her.

  The woman was already packing away the box and slipping it into a pretty handled bag. She handed it to Hope. “I’m so sorry about the hassle. I put a bottle of jewelry cleaner in there for your inconvenience.”

  “Thank you.” Shouldering her purse, she made her way for the door, pulling the ring off as she went. Only the ring didn’t budge.

  She managed the door and headed for the tiny parking lot behind the brick building, tugging at the ring as she walked. She could see now that her fingers were swollen, her palms red and blotchy. She was holding water. She’d gone to the diner last night and had their yummy ham special. Stupid ham.

  She glared at the diamond. Stupid ring. She twisted and tugged. Tugged and twisted. It wouldn’t budge past the knuckle. What if they had to cut it off? Oh, Lord, please. Zoe was going to kill her.

  She gave up on the ring, buckled her seat belt, and sent Brady a quick text. Then she headed north.

  The ring was likely the right size. It had gone over her knuckle easily enough. She’d soap it up at Brady’s. It would slip right off.

  chapter three

  Brady straightened over the engine of the Porsche Boxster, stretching his back. He looked over his shoulder where Sam was cooing from the baby backpack.

  “How you doing back there, Sammy?”

  “Ba-ba-ba-ba!”

  “I hear you, buddy. Almost done.”

  Brady dragged his hand across his face. It was hot as a furnace in this old barn. He had a brand-new metal building—air-conditioning and all—on the other side of his house, but he’d loaned it to Zoe when her barn burned down a couple months ago. It was the temporary home of his sister’s new market, the Peach Barn, until her old barn was rebuilt. That day couldn’t come soon enough for him.

  He checked the oil, then topped it off and dropped the hood of the trunk. “Hope’s coming over soon, you know that?”

  “Ba-ba-ba-ba!” Boo Bear landed on the cracked concrete floor, and Brady fetched it, dusted it off, and handed it back.

  When he shut off the engine, he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. Too early to be Hope. The engine idled a little high, and it was no sports car either. He wiped his hands on a rag and left the shade of the barn.

  A Buick sedan approached. At the sight of Calvin Jones’s car, Brady’s heart took off like a Maserati from the starting line.

  He released a deep breath. Dear God, please. Let it be good news.

  He’d been expecting the paternity test results any day, but somehow he’d thought the lawyer would call. Maybe the results were not what he hoped. Maybe Calvin had felt the need to deliver the bad news in person.

  Brady’s legs felt wobbly, and Sam’s weight on his back suddenly felt like a ton of bricks. He watched as Calvin got out of the car, and he fought the sudden urge to flee.

  The look on Calvin’s dark-skinned face didn’t make him feel any better. The lines on his forehead, the tightness at the corners of his brown eyes, the strained smile. Brady had a feeling the manila file in the man’s hand could change his whole world. Could rip his son right from his arms. Drawing a breath seemed an impossible task.

  Calvin extended a hand. “Afternoon, Brady.”

  “Calvin.” His gaze flickered down to the file. “You’ve got the test results.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not what we’d hoped, son.”

  Oh, God. Please no. This can’t be happening.

  Brady’s breath left his body in a rush. Sammy wasn’t his. Wasn’t his son. A burn started at the backs of his eyes. A thickness built in his throat, aching, strangling.

  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” Calvin said. “I just got the results, and I knew you’d want to know right away.”

  Brady turned away, needing a minute. An hour. A month. A lifetime. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. How could this be happening? Tears pushed at his eyelids. He felt so . . . lost. He’d lost the one person who belonged with him.

  His real mom had ditched him. Though his aunt and uncle had adopted him as a baby, he’d always been keenly aware that he had a drug-addicted mother out there somewhere and a father who didn’t know—and probably didn’t even care—that he existed. His sister was really only his cousin, and his dad was only his uncle.

  He’d never felt more alone. And that didn’t even touch on the biggest problem. He might have no legal claim on Sam now. And he couldn’t bear to think about his boy being raised under the Parkers’ impossibly high standards.

  It took him a long moment to blink back the tears gathering in his eyes, get himself under control. He cleared the lump from his throat before he faced Calvin again.

  “I sure am sorry, Brady,” Calvin said. “I wish I had better news for you.”

  A sweat had broken out on Brady’s forehead. He grabbed one of Sam’s bare feet and held on tight. “But I can still fight for him, right?”

  Calvin’s gaze shifted away. “Well . . . sure. You can always try. But as you know, the hearing for temporary custody is next week. And the Parkers will no doubt be filing a petition to dismiss our counterclaim.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means they’ll be arguing that since you’re not the biological father you shouldn’t be considered for custody at all.”

  “But I’m the only father Sam knows!”

  “We can file a response to their motion stating that the case should be argued as a best-interest case—doing what’s in the child’s best interest, regardless of the paternity test. The judge will hear the motions next week and make a determination about whether this ends here or goes on to a final hearing. If he finds in our favor next week, he’ll also be deciding who gets temporary custody of Sam until the final hearing.”

  “And if he doesn’t find in our favor?”

  Calvin shifted. “Then he’ll grant the Parkers permanent custody of Sam next week.”

  Brady’s breath left his body. He could lose Sam next week? Lose him forever?

  “Don’t despair just yet. There’s still a chance the judge will want to try the case on a best-interest standard.”

  How could this be happening? Brady curled his hands around Sam’s feet as if he could hold him close forever.

  “I have to be honest, though, Brady. Even if the judge decides to hear arguments about Sam’s best interest, you’ve still got a mountain to climb. You’re a young, single man with no blood connection to the child. You’re up against biological grandparents, both of whom would be there full-time for Sam.”

  “But they’re sixty years old! They’ll be
almost eighty when Sam graduates high school. And they weren’t even good parents to Audrey and Heather.”

  Calvin cocked his head, his gaze sharpening. “Was there abuse of any kind?”

  Oh, how he wished he could say yes. “Maybe not abuse per se. It’s like I told you—they were distant and unaffectionate. Their standards were impossibly high. Their relationship with Audrey was strained because of it.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. But I don’t think it’s going to sway the courts much. We can look into it, of course, if things go our way next week, but without evidence of abuse, our chances aren’t great. I’m sorry, Brady.”

  “But his mom just died, for crying out loud. And now you’re telling me they could rip him away from the only home he knows?”

  “I know it’s not fair.”

  Brady scrubbed his hand over his face. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  Behind him, Sam began to fuss. Brady mindlessly unhooked the backpack and pulled the baby free of it, letting the empty carrier drop to the ground. The little guy’s head was sweaty, and his sleeper was wet from being pressed up against Brady’s back in the hot barn.

  “Brady . . . I know this is a terrible shock. But maybe the Parkers would provide some stability. You’ve admitted you don’t have regular childcare for Sam.” His eyes swung to the carrier and back to Brady. “You can’t expect to carry him around indefinitely. And I can’t imagine any judge would approve of you working over a hot engine with a baby.”

  “Whose side are you on?” He’d never endanger Sam. He had to work, didn’t he? And there’d been nobody to watch him today until Hope arrived. Anger burned and swelled inside. It didn’t help that Calvin might have a point.

  The attorney held up his hands. “I’m just trying to show you how the judge might view your situation. If I understand correctly, you’ve been passing childcare responsibilities around a bit. The court wants to see more stability than that.”

  “Audrey just died a month ago, and I was used to having Sam only on weekends. I’m still trying to figure out how to juggle work and childcare. It’s taken a while to get my feet under me.”

  “Well, I suggest you get them under you quickly. I said it before, but it’s even more critical now. You should have a full-time caregiver before that hearing next week.”

  “I’ll work on it.” It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried, but he was going to have to try harder.

  Stupid Audrey. This was all her fault. She’d lied to him. Made a fool of him. Suckered him in, and like an idiot he’d swallowed her lies, hook, line, and sinker. How could he even be angry at her now, when she was gone? But he wanted to tell her exactly what he thought of her selfishness. He wanted her to know she was wrecking his life. Crushing his heart. That their baby boy might end up being raised by the parents she’d spurned.

  And yet . . . if Audrey hadn’t lied to him, he wouldn’t have Sam at all.

  His eyes fastened on Calvin’s, desperation swelling inside. “Is there anything else I can do to have a better chance at becoming his . . . guardian?”

  Guardian. It was a big step down from Daddy. Sammy grew fussier, and Brady glanced around for Boo Bear, finding him on the ground again a few feet away. He picked up the bear and brushed it off.

  When he straightened, the crunch of gravel drew his attention. Hope’s Civic was coming round the bend.

  “The regular caregiver is priority one,” Calvin said over Sam’s fussing. “If the judge decides our way next week, we can go ahead with the petition, but you’re looking at a lot of legal expenses—”

  “This is my son we’re talking about. Maybe not by blood, but he’s mine just the same.”

  Boo Bear hadn’t solved Sammy’s crisis. His little body stiffened, and he began wailing in earnest.

  “I know this is difficult. I wish I had better news.”

  Brady barely noticed Hope pulling up beside Calvin’s sedan as he bounced Sam in his arms.

  The car door slammed, and he was vaguely aware of Hope approaching as thoughts spun in his head. Crazy thoughts that had him packing bags and going on the run.

  “Brady, what’s wrong?” she asked.

  His gaze swung toward her, but his head was still spinning. His stomach churned uneasily. The compassion in her eyes pulled at him.

  “I-I got the test results back,” he choked out. “He’s not mine.”

  “Oh no. Oh, hon, I’m so sorry.” She reached for Sam without taking her eyes from Brady’s. The baby went willingly, snuggling into her neck, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

  “I’m Brady’s attorney, Calvin Jones.”

  “Hope Daniels.”

  Calvin’s eyes sharpened on Brady. “I didn’t realize the two of you were—”

  Sam’s wail drowned out the last of Calvin’s sentence.

  She looked at Brady. “Why don’t I just take Sammy inside.”

  “I think he’s hungry.”

  “I’ve got it covered. Take your time.” With one last pitying glance she headed toward the house.

  “You didn’t tell me you were engaged,” Calvin said once Hope was inside. “Brady . . . that might put a different spin on things.”

  Why in the world did Calvin think they were engaged? Brady gave his head a shake. “I’m not—Wait. What do you mean, a different spin on things?”

  “Well . . . a judge tends to look more favorably on custody when there’s a mom and a dad. The Parkers already have that going for them. This balances the scales a bit. It might help things go our way in next week’s hearing. And it might also help in the final hearing. Especially if one of you could stay home with Sam full-time.”

  Brady’s flagging hopes went buoyant. “So . . . I’d actually have a chance of permanent custody if—I mean because—I’m engaged? That’s what you’re saying?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Calvin clapped him on the shoulder. “This is good news, Brady. It makes for a better argument to try this case on a best-interest standard.”

  Brady swallowed hard. “That is great news.” And it was. If only he really did have a fiancée.

  “I’ll get that response filed and be in touch about next week’s hearing.”

  “Okay. Sounds good. Thank you, Calvin.”

  “Hang in there, Brady. This isn’t over yet.”

  They shook hands, and moments later as Brady watched the sedan roll down the drive, he wondered what in the world he was doing.

  chapter four

  “Here come your num-nums. Open up, baby doll. Vrrrrroooom!” Hope slipped the bite of baby food into Sam’s mouth. He giggled at her sound effects, the pureed peas dripping from his lower lip.

  Hope dabbed with the bib. “Is that funny? You think that’s funny, huh?”

  She stuck the spoon back into the jar and dished up another bite. But her smile fell from her face as she thought of Brady. She couldn’t get the look on his face out of her mind. His knitted brows and bloodshot eyes, the strain around his mouth that told her he was about to lose it.

  She hadn’t seen that look on his face since Audrey had left him. And she’d seen enough of it then that she’d give a year’s wages not to see it again.

  “Muh-muh-muh-muh!”

  She gave Sam another bite, wondering when Brady was going to come in. She’d heard the attorney leave a good ten minutes ago. He probably needed a few minutes to himself. This had to be breaking his heart.

  As if she’d conjured him up, the kitchen door opened and Brady stepped inside. He didn’t look much better. He gave her a tight smile and set the baby carrier and Boo Bear on the kitchen counter.

  He gave Sammy a long look, a muscle flickering in his jaw, his eyes going a little glassy before he turned and opened the refrigerator door.

  Hope sat back in her chair. “Are you all right? What am I saying, of course you’re not all right. I’m so sorry, Brady. I just can’t believe this is happening.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “Is there anythi
ng you can do? What did your attorney say?”

  “Muh-muh-muh-muh!”

  Hope fed Sam another bite, scooping up the bit that dribbled down his chin. The baby slapped his palms on the high chair tray and laughed at the noise it made.

  Brady was still standing in front of the fridge, one hand on the open door, the other braced above the freezer.

  “Brady?”

  He straightened, shut the door, and turned, a puzzled look on his face. “Why’d he think we were engaged?”

  “What?”

  “My attorney. For some reason he thought we were engaged.”

  Oh. The ring. Hope held out her hand. “He must’ve seen this.”

  His eyes flickered to hers, frowning. “Where’d that come from?”

  Hope gave a wry laugh. “It’s Zoe’s. I picked it up for her, and it got stuck and then . . . Well, never mind.” Bigger fish to fry. “So what did your attorney say? What’s the next step?”

  “He said the Parkers would be filing a motion to dismiss my counterclaim. Saying that since I’m not the biological father I shouldn’t even be considered for custody.”

  Hope gasped. “That’s not right!”

  “If the judge agrees, they’ll get custody of Sam next week, and it’ll all be over.”

  “Oh, Brady . . . He doesn’t really think that’ll happen, does he?”

  “At first he told me it just might.”

  “At first? He changed his mind?”

  His eyes latched onto hers for a long minute. “When he thought we were engaged . . . he said a married couple would actually stand a fighting chance. That it evened things out a little.”

  Hope winced. “Oh. And when you told him you weren’t engaged?” It was a real shame. Brady would be a better parent for Sam than the Parkers, married or not.

  Sammy pounded the tray. “Muh-muh-muh!”

  “Okay, okay, Mr. Impatient.” Hope scooped the last bite into Sam’s mouth. She glanced at Brady, who still hadn’t answered. He had a funny look on his face. One she couldn’t quite read.

  “Brady? What did he say?”

  His eyes looked everywhere but at her. “I-I didn’t tell him.”