Jessie's Child

by Lois Faye Dyer

  “Thanks.” Zach’s spirits lifted at the genuine delight in the old cowboy’s words.

  They walked together toward the barn, Zach listening as Charlie filled him in on the details of the east pasture’s pump and further necessary repair.

  He finished his chores then shaved, showered, changed clothes and was ready long before it was time to drive to Wolf Creek. He paced the kitchen floor, watching the clock hands slowly pass 8:00 p.m. and start their journey toward 9:00. Unable to wait any longer, he left the house fifteen minutes early and headed to town.

  Jessie spent the hour after arriving home occupied with Rowdy’s bedtime ritual of bath, stories, songs and cuddles. It wasn’t until she’d tiptoed into his room ten minutes after his third request for a drink of water and found him sound asleep that she allowed herself to think about Zach.

  Variations of possible conversation ran through her mind as she quickly showered and slipped into a simple white cotton skirt and a periwinkle tank top, the silky, scoop-necked blouse cool in the evening heat. She brushed her hair and left it loose. Small gold hoops at her earlobes gleamed against the auburn strands as she applied light makeup.

  Finished, she ran a critical gaze over her reflection in the mirror and winced. Her eyes were shadowed with worry, her face too pale. She considered applying more color to her cheeks and dismissed the thought.

  “Nothing’s going to make this easier,” she said aloud. Adrenaline and nerves tightened her body and she willed herself to relax tense muscles while she took several deep breaths. The feeling that her baby was in danger didn’t go away, but her edginess lessened. She slid her feet into backless flat sandals and left the room.

  The house was quiet now that Rowdy was asleep. Jessie didn’t turn on lamps as she walked through the living room. Instead she welcomed the cloak of peace the dusk threw over her house and lawn. She tucked her legs under her as she settled into the cushions of the wicker armchair at the far end of the porch.

  Then she waited, mentally composing a dozen different responses to what would surely be a confrontation with Zach. Her view of the situation was simple—she would protect Rowdy at all costs. She’d gone through pregnancy without Zach’s presence, given birth as a single mother and been Rowdy’s only parent for the short three years of his life. If Zach wanted to be actively involved as a father, he would have to convince her he’d be a positive influence in Rowdy’s life—then she’d cooperate with him.

  They had created a child together but she didn’t really know him, she thought. He’d spent years in the military, carrying a weapon, no doubt shooting and being shot at, and she’d noted the faintly dangerous aura about him both at the café and again this afternoon. Did that mean he’d be less able to cope calmly with the mundane details of parenting? Those details sometimes seemed to require endless patience.

  How do I know he’ll always make sure Rowdy’s seat belt is fastened? Will he supervise him adequately? Does he know what kind of food to give a three-year-old? Zach grew up under the influence of Harlan and Lonnie—how much impact will that have on his ability to be a good father?

  Beyond her initial practical concerns was an even greater worry. If Rowdy became attached to Zach, how would he handle his father’s absence if Zach left Wolf Creek for an assignment in a foreign country? How could Zach possibly be an active parent while he was traveling the globe? Granted, Rachel insisted her brother would remain in Wolf Creek, but could she and Rowdy count on Zach staying?

  The possibility of heartache for Rowdy seemed inevitable…and unacceptable.

  Jessie knew Zach could sue her to prove paternity. Since the results of a blood test were a foregone conclusion, the court system would eventually grant Zach visitation with Rowdy. Before that happened, however, she could use legal maneuvering to delay the process of a paternity suit.

  If Zach refuses to be reasonable, she thought, I’ll use every legal twist I know to gain time.

  Dusk had deepened to night when Zach parked in front of Jessie’s house and started up the sidewalk.

  “Hi.” Jessie rose from her wicker chair tucked into the shadows at the far end of the porch. He paused, searching for her. “Come inside.” She glanced at the neighboring bungalow, where the white-haired couple seated on their porch swing watched with unabashed interest. She waved at the Harrises and pulled open the screen door.

  Zach climbed the steps and walked inside, aware of Jessie with each breath he drew. The house smelled like a combination of fresh flowers, furniture polish and a subtly scented perfume drifting from the woman who walked a step ahead of him. He followed her through the dark living room into the kitchen. The room was lit by recessed ceiling lights and the soft glow of a stained-glass lamp suspended over a small dining table in the corner. He halted just inside the doorway but Jessie crossed to the counter.

  “Please have a seat,” she said, pouring iced tea from a carafe into two glasses.

  “This isn’t a social visit.”

  She stiffened, going still for a moment before she carefully returned the carafe to the counter, picked up the glasses and turned to face him.

  “I’m well aware of that, Zach. Nevertheless, I hope we can discuss this like reasonable adults.” Her slim body was strung with tension, her features resolute. The dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose was clearly visible against pale skin but her eyes challenged him.

  “We can try for reasonable.” He left the doorway and went to the table.

  She nodded, crossing the room to hand him a frosty glass and murmuring her thanks when he held her chair. The urge to bend his head to brush his lips against her silky, fragrant hair was as swift as it was unwelcome. He forced himself to walk away from her, putting the width of the table between them and focusing on the reason they were here.

  “Rowdy’s mine, isn’t he?”

  “You’re his biological father, yes.”

  He’d known the answer and had thought he was prepared to hear it, but despite the gut-deep certainty that Rowdy was his son, Jessie’s quiet confirmation sent a shock wave of emotion through him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” His voice was sandpaper-rough, deepened from being forced past the lump in his throat.

  “Why didn’t you ask?” she shot back. “You knew the possibility was there.”

  “That’s why I flew back to the States to find out, two months after I left.”

  Jessie was visibly stunned. “I don’t believe you.”

  Zach shrugged. “That’s up to you.”

  “But I never heard from you,” she protested.

  “I never made it to Missoula. I stopped in Denver to meet my mother and Rachel and they mentioned they’d heard one of the McClouds had gotten married. When they said the newlywed was the only daughter, I figured you must not have had any surprises from that night, so we didn’t have anything to talk about.”

  Jessie pressed her fingertips to her temple, where a tension headache was beginning to throb, and struggled to accept what his words meant. Could it be? Could her make-believe marriage have kept Zach from contacting her? “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You could tell me why you married somebody else when you were carrying my baby,” he bit out, his eyes hard.

  “I…” Jessie stopped. She couldn’t tell him she hadn’t been married. What a mess. “I can’t explain—it’s complicated.”

  “It doesn’t seem all that complicated to me. You were pregnant with my baby and you married another man. Did you tell him?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t know who to feel worse for—myself or the other guy.” He looked around the kitchen with its feminine touches. There was no evidence of a male influence in the room. “What happened? Did he dump you when he found out about the baby?”

  Jessie stiffened at the unconcealed sarcasm in his deep voice. “My marriage has nothing to do with you and I refuse to discuss it.”

  “Fine,” he snarled. “Then suppose you explain why you didn’t tell me when yo
u found out you were pregnant.”

  “I think that should be pretty clear,” she said fiercely. “We’d agreed that night was a mistake and there was no reason to talk again.”

  “But it turned out there was a reason to. You should have found me,” he said, obviously holding his anger in check. “My mother and sister always have my contact information.”

  “Oh, right, and that was so doable,” she scoffed. “No one in either of our families ever spoke and you think I should have called your mother or Rachel, and said, ‘hello, I’m John McCloud’s daughter and I need to contact your son. Oh, and by the way, I’m pregnant.’”

  “You wouldn’t have had to tell them you were pregnant.”

  “And what would I have said when they asked me why I wanted your address?”

  “Nothing. Just because they would have been curious doesn’t mean you’d have had to tell them anything.”

  Jessie shook her head in disbelief. “And that would have worked? No, Zach,” she said with conviction. “I had to bring Rowdy back to Wolf Creek. I couldn’t do anything to make your family suspicious.”

  “My family would have been over the moon to know I had a kid. Mom’s wanted grandchildren for years.”

  “What about Harlan and Lonnie?”

  “What about them?”

  “Do you really think they would have left us alone?”

  “I can handle my uncle and Lonnie.”

  “Yes, but you weren’t here!” Jessie said with frustration, unable to make him understand. “I had to do what I thought was best for Rowdy.”

  “And you decided it was best to marry someone else and keep him to yourself?” The possibility that she’d decided having him in Rowdy’s life wouldn’t be good for their child was a bitter pill.

  “No. I knew you had a right to know about Rowdy, under normal circumstances. But given the conversation we had before you left my apartment the morning after we…” Her voice trailed off.

  “After we spent the night screwing our brains out?” Zach said bluntly, purposely choosing words that didn’t reveal his true emotions about that night.

  He watched as color flooded her face at the barrage of mental images from that unforgettable night, but her gaze didn’t flinch from his. “If that’s how you want to describe it, yes. The next morning, you were very definite about not wanting to see me again, as I recall. Given that,” she challenged, “why would I have told you?”

  Zach pushed upright and stalked across the width of the kitchen before turning to confront her. “Because that night made you pregnant, and that changed everything.”

  “It certainly did for me.” Jessie’s fingers tightened on her glass. The memories of making love with him that long-ago night were so vivid they shimmered like holographs, thickening and heating the air between them. Watching him walk across the room had her body burning with unwanted desire. The flex of his long thigh muscles beneath faded jeans, the stretch of white cotton over broad shoulders, the expanse of chest that she remembered pressed against her own. She hadn’t been consumed with desire in four years. She didn’t want to still crave making love with Zach Kerrigan.

  “I’m guessing you hoped you’d never see me again and I’d never find out about him,” he bit out.

  “That’s not true,” she protested, although she knew his assessment was uncomfortably close to reality.

  “Then why did you let more than three years go by?”

  “I was crazy busy, juggling school and caring for a newborn. Then after graduation, I moved home to set up my law office, and I bought this house and remodeled it. One day melted into the next.”

  “And you couldn’t have taken a half hour to write me a letter? Hell, Jessie, it wouldn’t have taken that long. All you had to say was ‘we have a son. Come home.’ Six words, that’s all you needed.”

  Her gaze met his. “And would you have come home?”

  “Yes.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then we would have had this conversation—only it would have happened three years ago.” And you wouldn’t have married someone else, you would have married me.

  Jessie closed her eyes briefly, pressing her fingertips against them before looking at Zach once more. “I can’t undo the past, Zach, and arguing about it is fruitless. What I need to know is where do we go from here? Now that you know about Rowdy, what do you want to happen?”

  His answer didn’t require thought. “I want him to know I’m his father.”

  Jessie paled and her lashes fell, then lifted to reveal eyes dark with emotion. “Is that all?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what else do you want, specifically?”

  “Specifically?” Zach barely hesitated. “I want to teach him to ride a horse and throw a baseball, pound nails and mend fence, throw a rope and change the oil in his car.” He shrugged. “The usual guy stuff.” All the things I wish my father had lived to teach me, he thought.

  “Then you want to be an active part of Rowdy’s life,” she said carefully.

  Zach frowned at her, wondering what she was getting at. “Of course I do. Isn’t that what I’ve been saying?”

  “I just wanted to be clear as to your intentions. This is going to be complicated and I wanted to know exactly how you picture yourself in Rowdy’s life.”

  “Why is it complicated?”

  “My family hates yours. Yours hates mine. All the reasons we decided to ignore the night we spent together are still valid.”

  “My sister married your brother. Years before that, my great-aunt Laura married your grandfather. If our families can tolerate a couple of marriages, they can tolerate us having a child.”

  The look she gave him was skeptical. “I haven’t noticed any easing of the feud since Luke and Rachel married. In fact, I think it’s made your Uncle Harlan and Lonnie worse.”

  Zach shrugged. “Harlan and Lonnie don’t need the feud as an excuse to act like asses, although they never hesitate to use it if it serves their purpose. They’re not worth worrying about.”

  “What about your mother—and Rachel?”

  “Like I said, my mother’s wanted grandchildren for years. She and my sister will be too excited over having a kid in the family to care about the tension between our families.”

  Jessie shook her head slowly, clearly unconvinced. “I doubt they’ll be as accepting as you seem to think. Your mother may have wanted grandchildren, but I can’t believe she won’t care that Rowdy is half McCloud.”

  Zach eyed her consideringly. “And what about your family? How glad are they going to be when they find out I’m Rowdy’s father?”

  Jessie’s gaze moved from his to fasten on her glass. “They won’t be happy.”

  “So I’m guessing it’s your own family’s reaction you’re worried about, not mine.”

  Jessie sighed and tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “I’m concerned about everyone’s reaction, Zach. The gossips are going to have a field day with this. I don’t want Rowdy hurt.” The look she gave him was fiercely protective.

  “I don’t want him hurt, either, Jessie. But putting off the inevitable won’t solve the problem. I want Rowdy to know I’m his father, which means both our families need to be told, too.”

  “It’s not that simple, Zach.”

  “It doesn’t look complicated to me.”

  She glared at him, her chin lifting stubbornly. “I need time to decide how to tell Rowdy, and my family, about you in a way that keeps the shock to a minimum.”

  “How much time?”

  “A few weeks, at least.”

  “A few weeks, at most, preferably a lot less.” Zach stalked to the table and collected his hat, putting it on and tugging it down over his brow. “And I want to see Rowdy while you’re thinking up a plan.”

  “I don’t know you well enough to turn my child over to you.”

  “He’s my child, too.”

  “But he doesn’t know you yet and until he’s comf
ortable with you, and I’m convinced he’s safe in your care, I won’t let you see him without me present.”

  He stiffened, a muscle flexing along his jawline. “You think I’m going to harm him?” His voice was lethal, filled with cold anger.

  “I think you’re a man I spent one night with and beyond that, I hardly know you,” she said stiffly. “Given that, how can you expect me to turn Rowdy over to you?”

  “I’m his father,” he ground out.

  “You know that. And I know that.” Her gaze didn’t waver from his furious stare. “But if you refuse to give Rowdy, and me, time to get to know you better so we’re both comfortable with you in his life, I’ll deny it. You’ll have to take me to court and I don’t think either of us wants to spend months fighting each other in a paternity suit.”

  “You’d go that far to keep me away from him?” He was incredulous.

  “Not to keep you from Rowdy,” she corrected. “To give Rowdy, and me, time to grow accustomed to having you in his life.”

  He glared at her. “No wonder there’s a feud between our families. You’re the stubbornest woman I’ve ever met.”

  “I’m a mother,” she amended, “protecting my child. I’m not asking you not to see him. You’re welcome to visit but I want to be there, too.”

  The silence between them stretched for so long, Jessie was afraid he was going to walk out.

  “All right,” he said abruptly. “I’ll let you make the rules. Temporarily,” he added. “And only because Rowdy might feel more at ease in familiar surroundings and with his mother nearby. But I’ll be seeing my attorney tomorrow. I’m not a patient man. I won’t wait forever for you to decide I’m acceptable father material.”

  Jessie nodded, relief flooding her. “We always go to the city park on Saturday morning at nine, before it gets too hot. You could meet us there tomorrow, if you’d like.”

  “I’ll be there.” He glanced at the door to the living room before turning back to her. “I want to see him.”

  Startled, Jessie felt her eyes widen. “Now? But, he’s asleep.”

  “I don’t care. I want to see him.”

  “He’ll be tired and cranky if we wake him, Zach.”