by Kim Law
Chapter Four
The snow continued the following morning, having not let up at all overnight, but Cord didn’t let that keep him from his plans. He’d come home to check on his father, so taking care of that was priority number one. Priority number two? That would be figuring out what to do about the woman currently tucked away inside the bedroom of the cabin. The woman who also happened to be carrying his baby.
Geez, how did his life get to this?
He took one last step in his snowshoes before he stopped. He’d reached the spot of the adjoining property that allowed sight of both the original Wilde land as well as the acreage his father and stepmother had purchased over the summer. With his dad now either confined to a wheelchair or using a prosthesis, he and Gloria had preferred the one-story house on the neighboring property. But mostly, Cord suspected, they’d jumped at the chance to be out of the house that still held too many memories for all of them. Some of the memories were good, but it was the accumulation of the bad that in the end, made the house better as tourist accommodations than a place any of them wanted to live.
Turning the house into a lodge had been their dad’s idea. Then he’d sold a portion of the new property to Nate and Megan, where they were currently building their dream home.
Dani and Ben lived just up the road. Nick and Harper had a house in a family neighborhood in town. Gabe and Erica lived not far from downtown. And Jaden and Arsula had moved into a nice place just a couple of months ago. Everyone had returned to Birch Bay but him.
Everyone was content and settled . . . but him.
Cord turned in place, taking in as much as he could see from his vantage point. The original house sat quiet today. The workers would return on Monday to continue renovations. The trees were bare and drooping with snow. And the land . . . He kept turning, encompassing both properties, as well as the lake and the mountains reaching skyward on the far side of it. This land was likely why every time the idea had come up to sell, he and his family had chosen to keep the property. Because even with all the bad memories associated with the place, the land had a way of healing.
He wanted the land to heal him this week.
The thought struck him hard. If asked yesterday morning, he would have said that he didn’t need healing. He just needed to go back to work. Back to his life the way it always had been.
Yes, he’d been on edge lately. And at the office last week, he’d snapped at Angie and brought her to tears. That wasn’t like him, and he’d admitted it. He’d apologized. But he didn’t need to be cast aside because of it. He simply needed to get a decent night’s sleep instead of constantly waking to dreams about his mother.
They’re not really about your mother, a voice whispered inside his head.
He shoved the voice aside. Maybe spending a week here would somehow lessen the dreams. Already, he hadn’t had one last night.
Of course, he’d also lain awake most of the night thinking about the woman in the other room. Or, more accurately, thinking about the child growing inside the woman in the other room. Maggie had disappeared into the bedroom the night before and hadn’t emerged since. Which suited him perfectly. There’d been nothing else they needed to talk about anyway. He would call a family law attorney first thing Monday and get an initial agreement started for child support, and then everything would be settled. He’d be out. He’d be as childless as he had been twelve hours before.
He blew out a breath, the air crystallizing in front of him, and gave in to the question he’d been trying to ignore since he’d first pulled up to the cabin last night. Did not wanting anything to do with his own child make him a bad person?
Probably.
He nodded, overriding his initial thought. Because of course it made him a bad person. What kind of person didn’t want their own kid? But did knowing that change the facts? Did it change whether he wanted anything to do with the child or not?
This time, he closed his eyes as he silently answered. No. It did not. And he could be okay with that.
He didn’t want to be a dad. End of story. It wasn’t that he didn’t like kids. Hell, he loved his nieces, and he couldn’t wait to meet the new babies who would be entering their family soon. But being a father tied him to the mother. It opened him to whatever mental gyrations she might decide to put him through, whether the two of them were together or not. And that was the one promise he’d always made to himself. He would not let his emotions get tied up, only to be twisted without his consent, by any woman.
He could thank his mother for that lesson.
Hell, he could thank his father as well. Due to lack of having a backbone when it came to Carol Wilde, his father had helped show Cord all the ways that men—and not only children—could get hurt by the ones they were supposed to love.
Both their actions had shown that there was a very fine line between love and hate. And maybe no line at all.
Eyes open again, he stared at nothing. And he thought about the possibility of Maggie manipulating her child—their child—in the same fashion his mother had done to him. That she’d done to all of them. And he ground his teeth together at the idea. That was another thing he wouldn’t allow. He may not want to be a father, but he would be one before he’d let that happen. Only, he’d be the only parent the child had. Maggie Crowder wouldn’t be permitted in the boy’s life if Cord ever received so much as a sniff that her treatment of him wasn’t aboveboard. And he would know about it, too. Because he had every intention of keeping tabs.
When he spoke with an attorney about child support, he also planned to discuss lining up regular well-checks on the child, to be done by a third party. He understood that there were good women in the world and that excellent mothers did exist. These things were possible, so it stood to reason that Maggie could be one. And honestly, from what he’d learned about her over their one weekend, he couldn’t see her being the type of conniving, evil person his mother had been. Still . . . people could hide their true selves. He knew that firsthand. So, he’d make certain Maggie was who she presented to the world. He’d make certain that his son would never live with the kind of mother he’d grown up with.
With fury continuing to rage inside him, he refocused his gaze, only then realizing that he faced the direction where Nate and Megan were building their house. Snowflakes landed on his face as he peered toward the rise that ended with the cliff overlooking the lake, and the chill of the air now left him so cold he could barely feel their touch. However, he wasn’t yet ready to continue toward his father’s place. Instead, he pictured the cliff without the house on it. He imagined how it had looked when Nate and Megan had exchanged vows there barely two months before. Cord had stood beside his five siblings that day, proud to be a part of his brother’s celebration. At the same time, he’d also wanted to call a halt to everything. He’d wanted to speak up when the officiant had asked if anyone had reason the two of them shouldn’t be married. He hadn’t spoken up, though. Because he hadn’t had a reason. He’d only had questions.
How did they know that what they felt was true? How did anyone?
How could his siblings believe the emotions each of them had embraced for another person was love and not something merely resembling the feeling? Something that would last only until hate replaced it?
How did they possibly trust that marrying, having kids, that making a life together wouldn’t turn out so drastically different than what they each envisioned and hoped for? That’s what he couldn’t figure out. At the same time, even though he’d been watching and waiting for each of his siblings’—and his father’s—marriages to crumble from the moment they’d all started, he’d equally given in to the acceptance that what they’d found seemed real. It seemed to work. Cord simply didn’t understand how.
And not only how it worked, but how they could trust that it might work. That’s what got him. They’d all grown up the same way. With the same woman—mother, wife—around. How were they not as broken as him?
But then, he sup
posed he could answer that question himself.
His jaw worked, and he could feel the earlier irritation trying to surge into more.
His siblings weren’t as broken because their mother hadn’t killed herself in front of any of them. She hadn’t spent their lives making sure they always found her right after she’d done something stupid in a bid for attention. Begged them to “save her.”
I knew you’d be here. I knew you’d help.
He shuddered. He hated those phrases.
He hated his mother.
He turned back toward the direction he’d come. He hated the fact there was a woman about to give birth to a child who was a part of him and that there wasn’t a thing in the world he could do about it.
Anger suddenly erupted, making him hot from the inside out, and instead of thinking about the hows and the what-the-fucks that his life had turned into, he started moving again. With the additional inches of snow that had fallen overnight, there had been no possibility for him to get in his normal run that morning. Instead, he’d done a hundred pushups in the living room, had reshoveled the porch and the path to the truck, then he’d donned the snowshoes he’d grabbed before leaving his house in Billings and set out.
His dad’s place sat only six hundred yards from where the cabins had been built, so it wasn’t that great of a distance. However, making the trek in the snow should provide a decent burn of energy.
As his father’s house came into view, though, and with anger still churning, he wished he’d brought a pair of cross-country skis instead. Without speed, he hadn’t been able to get a decent grip on the gnawing bitterness that so often took up residence inside him these days.
In the distance, he could see snow piled on either side of the back sidewalk, indicating that Gloria had been out shoveling. He’d take the task over for her before he left, and that should help get himself back under control.
He made his way through the yard, concentrating on the sound of his breathing and each step pushing through the snow, and he finally let himself think about his dad. He didn’t expect to discover anything wrong on this visit. Their father had been doing well with the prosthesis since he’d gotten fitted for it six weeks before. In fact, given the jolting shock it had been for his dad to go from two legs down to one, he’d been doing exceptional for the last eight months. His mood took the occasional downturn, but none of those times had lasted for more than a few days, and none were out of the ordinary for someone going through the loss of a limb.
Cord had stayed on top of all details concerning his dad’s health, coming to town every two or three weeks since the accident, as well as checking in with his doctors via emails and phone calls. The initial rehab had been rough, but his dad had continually grown stronger. Then a little over two months ago the residual limb healed to the point that a prosthesis could be molded. He was doing great with it, too. Cord had visited a week after his dad received it, and he’d been pleased with the initial mobility.
Physical therapy continued, of course, to get his dad fully functional. But after all the hurdles crossed during the first few months, Cord had been even more satisfied to learn that the last medication changes had finally not only quieted the quivers from the Parkinson’s into almost nonexistence, but had eliminated the hallucinogenic side effects, as well. Everything was on track. His dad was fine. Nate was simply worried since this was the first time Cord hadn’t been home in over a month.
At least, that’s what Cord told himself. But Nate also wasn’t the type to worry over nothing.
His brother had called Thursday night, insisting a problem existed. Their dad and Gloria hadn’t stayed long for Thanksgiving dinner, and he’d apparently also quit coming over to check on progress at the two houses every day.
Their dad had a golf cart with a cover he could zip closed on cold or rainy days, and ever since work had begun, he’d been driving over on almost a daily basis. The last couple of weeks, though, he hadn’t been over at all. He’d insisted there was no reason for the change, only colder weather, but Nate didn’t buy it. Therefore, Cord was here.
“Cord!” Gloria opened the back door when he knocked, looking as shocked as he’d expected her to be. Only Nate had known he planned to come into town. “What in the world are you doing here?”
He motioned back the way he’d come. “Decided to take a few days off. I arrived last night.” Now that the house was under renovation, he always stayed in one of the cabins when he came into town. He preferred the same one each time, if available. He liked the feel of cabin number one. “I wanted some exercise this morning, so I snowshoed over to say hello.”
She chuckled and looked down at his feet. “Well, come on in. Get out of the cold.”
Cord took a minute to unstrap the shoes and shake the snow off before stepping inside, then he quickly shed his outerwear in the cramped back mudroom. He hung up his coat and hat and grabbed the extra socks he’d brought out of his coat pocket. As suspected, quite a bit of snow had inched its way into his boots.
“Dad around?” he asked as he ran his fingers through his flattened and damp-around-the-edges hair. He stepped into the kitchen.
“In the living room. Sitting in his favorite chair.” Gloria’s cheeks were flushed, confirming Cord’s guess that she’d recently been outside.
“Stay in the house, Gloria. I’ll finish clearing off the sidewalk before I go.”
In the event his dad needed to use his wheelchair to get to his car, he had to do so by way of the sidewalk. The garage was wide enough for only a single vehicle, and though accessibility changes had been made to the house before they’d moved in, there hadn’t been enough space in the garage to add a ramp.
“I’ll take you up on that.” She patted him on the arm and offered a small smile, and Cord looked at her thoughtfully. She seemed more tired than usual. Or was it sadness he was picking up on? Her eyes seemed to droop at the corners.
“Dad okay?” he asked quietly. Had Nate had been right? Was their dad having issues?
“He’s still doing good. Your father is a strong man.” She turned away, moving to the stove on the other side of the room. “Can I fix you a cup of tea to warm you up?” She looked over her shoulder. “Or coffee?”
“I’m good.” He wouldn’t put her out. “I’ll just go visit with Dad. Don’t worry about me.”
“If you’re sure.”
He studied her again. She’d normally try to insist on fussing over whoever showed up. “I’m positive, Gloria.”
“Okay, then.” She motioned, nodding toward the opening that led to the living room, then she clasped her hands together in front of her. “I’ll leave you two to visit.”
Something was off, but Cord couldn’t put his finger on it, so he gave an agreeing nod and made his way to the living room. His dad, as Gloria had said, was in his favorite recliner. It was the one that had been in the other house for as long as Cord could remember. Only, he was leaned back in it and asleep. At nine o’clock in the morning.
Cord glanced at his watch, as if confused by the time, then picked up the TV remote and lowered the volume of the show currently airing. He caught Gloria watching from the doorway, and when he glanced over, she offered another smile.
“He hasn’t been sleeping well,” she informed him.
“How long has that been going on?”
“I think it’s the new medicine. It started about the same time.”
The last tweak of his dad’s medication had been done the week after Cord’s previous visit, and he wordlessly berated himself for not coming home to personally check on him since. He’d let his own issues get in the way of worrying about his dad.
“I won’t wake him,” Cord assured her. He noted that his dad’s prosthesis was on the floor beside the recliner. The wheelchair sat in the corner of the room. “I didn’t sleep well last night myself,” he went on. “I might just stretch out on the couch.”
“Make yourself at home.”
Gloria headed down the ha
llway, and Cord lowered to the couch. He didn’t stretch out, but after changing his socks, he did drop his head to the back cushion. And as had happened so many times during the night before, the picture of a very pregnant Maggie Crowder materialized in his mind.
He kept himself from groaning out loud. If only she’d been calling over the summer for another weekend of sex.
Tunneling both hands into his hair, he closed his eyes and replayed their conversation from the night before. He didn’t know why he kept beating himself up. He didn’t want a kid. There was nothing more to think about. However . . . he’d never really thought about a kid of his actually growing inside another human being.
A son.
He kept his eyes closed. His father had been vocal about wanting a grandson.
There were three granddaughters in the family already, and when Harper, Erica, and Dani had all announced back in the summer that they were expecting around the same time, the idea had been tossed out to not find out the babies’ genders. They’d decided it would be a fun way to build up the suspense to see if a grandson—or grandsons—would make their way into the world. But what they didn’t know was that the answer to that question would now be a definite yes.
Or did they know?
Cord’s eyes popped open. Maggie was friends with Erica and Arsula. Had she told them?
Clearly, they’d know she was pregnant. And from what he knew about women, they would have wanted details. Especially since Maggie wasn’t married. What had she shared with them?
He slowly lowered his hands, his mind continuing to spin. If they did know about the baby, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t heard about it before now. His brothers would have called, if not to kick his ass for doing that to Maggie, then at least to let him know that he was going to be a dad. Wouldn’t they?
His heart thundered inside his chest. What a mess.
The fact was, if his brothers didn’t already know, he didn’t dare tell them. He couldn’t share that there was a baby with his DNA coming into this world whom he planned to have nothing to do with. None of them would understand. Not after finding “love” and being over the moon happy about having their own kids.