Husband Found

by Martha Shields

  “You mean you actually like this old firetrap?”

  He glanced back at her in surprise. “Of course. Don’t you?”

  She shook her head. “The upkeep takes all of my time and money. I’ve tried to convince Momma that if we sold the house and most of the antiques, we’d have enough money to buy a brand-new house in one of the suburbs. Then Gabe could attend a decent school.”

  “So why haven’t you moved?”

  Emma sighed. “Every time I bring the subject up, Momma gets this hurt look on her face. She’s lived in this old mausoleum all her life and doesn’t want to part with a single lamp.”

  His dark gaze bored into hers. “Sounds like you need this job even more than I thought.”

  Emma looked away. She knew she should take Rafe’s offer. She wasn’t likely to get another half as good. Not only would she have the money to fix the roof, but she’d be expanding her creativity doing something she loved. Who knew where a job like this could lead? Plus she’d be able to work at home so she could be with Gabe.

  But how could she work with Rafe, much less let him live in her home? She needed to avoid him, not spend day after day in his company. Even though she was determined never to let a man in her life again, she recognized the first stirrings of attraction. It was probably just echoes of the love they’d once shared, which would die out when she got to know him.

  But what if it wasn’t? What if she fell in love with him again?

  Every relationship she’d ever had with a man had brought her nothing but trouble and heartache. She couldn’t put herself through that again. She just couldn’t.

  As well knowing they were married, he might start thinking he had rights, especially if they were living under the same roof.

  The heat in the room grew oppressive as she remembered the “rights” he’d taken full advantage of during the single night of their honeymoon, and the times before that, one of which had gotten her pregnant. He’d been a thorough, thoughtful, passionate lover. She wondered if he still was.

  Which was precisely why she had to avoid him.

  She shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  “Can’t what? Can’t rent the rooms or can’t take the job?”

  “Can’t do either.”

  “What if I swear to keep our relationship all business?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Why?” he asked in frustration.

  “Because you won’t. And I don’t just have myself to think about,” she said softly. “I have to protect my son.”

  His black eyes burned like coal. “You think I’m going to hurt Gabe?”

  Emma steeled herself. She’d hoped she could get rid of Rafe so she could think, so she wouldn’t have to tell him—yet—about Gabe. She’d wanted to protect her son at least another day.

  But now she had to tell him. She had to get it over with. Get everything in the open.

  Maybe she’d get lucky. Learning he had a wife had scared him so much he’d nearly run away. Finding out he had a son might send him packing.

  “You’ve already hurt him, by leaving him when he was inside of me. By going off on a dangerous assignment, even when I begged you not to go. Your work was more important to you than me.” She blinked back the tears stinging her eyes. “More important than your child.”

  Rafe’s dark face went white. “My...child?”

  “He’s yours, Rafe. Gabe is your son.”

  Chapter Four

  Shock held Rafe motionless, as if he’d suddenly been encased in ice. Gabe was his?

  “It can’t be true,” he said, his voice a raspy whisper.

  Emma’s eyes narrowed. “You only have to look at him to know he’s yours. That was one thing my father didn’t bargain on when he tried to pass Gabe off as Jerry’s. Jerry’s hair isn’t much darker than mine. Nobody was fooled.”

  Rafe made a conscious effort to breathe, which made his heart kick into overdrive. He’d thought finding out about his past would give him control over his life. Instead, her words sent him hurling into outer space, more out of control than ever.

  As the idea took hold, however, the wild careening transformed into joy like he’d never known. Suddenly he felt as if he were racing for the stars.

  He had a wife and a son—a family—something he thought he’d never have. Now, in the space of four words, he had it all.

  Gabe. Gabriel. She’d named him after another archangel.

  He could see the resemblance now. The boy looked just like him in a picture his mother had shown him of himself at Gabe’s age. Black hair, black eyes, a skinny body just beginning to catch up to the size of his head.

  Why hadn’t he seen it instantly? He’d been with Gabe for hours this afternoon. All that time he’d been talking to his son. His own flesh and blood. “I can’t believe it...”

  Emma’s face tightened and she spun away from him. “Fine. Don’t. We haven’t needed you for the past almost-six years. We certainly don’t need you now.”

  She’d reached the door before he realized she was leaving. “Wait!”

  She paused with her hand on the knob but didn’t look back. “What?”

  “Was that why we got married?” he asked hesitantly.

  She finally turned to face him. “It was why we married so quickly. We were planning to wait until you’d moved to Denver and found us a place to live. But when you learned I was pregnant, you refused to wait.”

  A million thoughts ran through his head, but he couldn’t grab hold of a single one. She stood patiently by the door, watching him, her face unreadable.

  “I can’t believe—”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she began to turn away.

  He closed the gap between them, seizing her arm to keep her from leaving. “It’s not that I don’t believe he’s my son. You’re right. He looks too much like me to deny it. I just—” He rammed a hand back through his hair. “I feel like I’ve been hit with a ton of bricks.”

  “I felt the same way when I walked into that conference room the other night and saw you—” She glanced down at his hand on her arm. “You’re touching me.”

  Though the tone of her voice didn’t convey displeasure, the comment did. He released her immediately. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “I just wondered if you’re remembering anything else.”

  He shook his head, relieved that she wasn’t repulsed by his touch. “It doesn’t happen every time. I guess my mind has enough to deal with right now. It was the same when you covered my mouth downstairs, right after I learned we’re married.”

  She nodded, and they fell silent.

  Rafe studied her lovely face, memorizing the delicate features—of his wife. This woman had borne him a son, and he’d never even known. He’d never—

  Suddenly his eyes narrowed. “My mother and father have had a grandson for nearly six years they don’t know about? Why the hell didn’t you tell them?”

  “I told you I didn’t know how. I was only nineteen. I’d never met your parents. I didn’t know how they’d react.”

  He knew his parents wouldn’t be satisfied with that explanation, but he had to remember the kind of father Emma had grown up with. Then again... “Sylvia isn’t like your father. Why didn’t she help you?”

  “My mother is very old-fashioned. She never questioned my father’s right to rule the household. I’ve been trying to cram some women’s lib into her, but...” She lifted a hand helplessly. “It’s the way she was raised.”

  He stared at her a long time, trying to work his way through the confusion, elation and anger. Finally, he asked, “What are we going to do?”

  Her eyes widened. Surely it wasn’t fear he saw in the green depths.

  “Do?” she asked hesitantly. “About what?”

  “About...everything you’ve told me.”

  It was as if a curtain dropped behind her eyes. “We are not going to do anything. I told you. We don’t need you.” She took a step back. “You’d bett
er go. I’ll make your excuses.”

  She disappeared through the door.

  Rafe barely noticed.

  We don’t need you.

  Her words rammed into his soul, striking at the very heart of his psyche, at the innermost fears he’d never admitted even to himself.

  She didn’t need him. No one needed him.

  He hadn’t realized until that moment what was missing from his life, besides memories. He wanted to be needed, to be as necessary to someone as ink was to newsprint.

  Why hadn’t he realized it before?

  Probably because he’d been doing nothing but taking ever since his father rescued him from that muddy hole in Nicaragua. He’d taken his family’s love, their help in healing his broken body, their support in returning to a life of his own.

  It wasn’t that he hadn’t given anything back. He’d returned his family’s love and would do anything for them—but what he had to give wasn’t necessary to any of them. His parents had each other, his brothers and sisters all had their spouses and children of their own.

  Rafe had been the odd man out, emotionally as well as physically.

  Emma said she didn’t need him, either, but he sure as hell needed her. For the first time since he’d wakened in the village, he felt a connection to someone, a link to the man he’d been.

  But what did a man with a broken mind and a broken body have to give the beautiful woman who could lift the impenetrable curtain from his past? Only a lousy job. How could that compare to what he needed from her? To what she’d already given him?

  Feeling as bereft as he’d felt all those months when he didn’t even know his name, Rafe wandered over to the window. Placing his hands on either side, he leaned into them, staring blindly out at the sun dropping toward the treetops. Noise drew his eyes down to where Gabe played in the backyard, tossing a baseball into the air and catching it in his glove.

  Pride swelled like a balloon in Rafe’s chest. His son. From the time they’d spent together, he knew the boy was smart, inquisitive and loving.

  Emma had done a good job raising Gabe—without him.

  As he watched, Gabe dropped the ball. He’d have to show him how to spread the glove, so he’d have more—

  Realizing what he was thinking, Rafe shook his head. He didn’t have any right to—

  He straightened away from the window.

  The hell he didn’t. He was Gabe’s father. And whether she liked it or not, he was Emma’s husband. Those two facts gave him all kinds of rights.

  Besides, he did have something more to give than a lousy job. He’d played baseball all his life and had been on a winning team in college, according to his yearbook. He remembered enough about the sport to help his nephews. He could help his son, too—teach Gabe the finer points of the game.

  Hell, there were lots of things he could teach his son. Things Emma couldn’t. Like sportsmanship. How to bait a hook. How to avoid a fight, and how to end the fight quickly if he couldn’t avoid it.

  Gabe needed a father. Gabe needed him.

  And though Rafe couldn’t say how or why, something in his gut told him Emma needed him, too.

  There was a sadness, a loneliness that never quite left her face. Maybe he had the power to erase it, to bring back the joy and love he’d seen shining in her marvelous green eyes in his memo—

  Love? The word, and all it implied, caught in his mind.

  Well, maybe not love. He wasn’t the man he’d been when she’d loved him a lifetime ago. He couldn’t expect her to love him again, scarred as he was. But he could help her. Monetarily, if nothing else. And maybe they could find a way to be friends.

  The desire he’d felt for Emma from the moment she’d walked in the conference room door two days ago sprang up to mock him. How could he settle for friendship when all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms until she wasn’t aware of anything but him, to kiss her wide, luscious mouth and see if the same sparks ignited that flew between them when they touched, to bury himself inside her and brand her as his?

  He had to, that’s all there was to it. She’d made it clear she didn’t want a man in her life, but everyone needed a friend. If that was the only way she’d accept him, then so be it.

  He’d do anything for her, and for his son.

  “I see you sent Gabe out to play,” Emma said as she entered the kitchen.

  Sylvia turned. “Where’s Rafe?”

  “He’s leaving.”

  “I didn’t hear the front door,” her mother said sharply.

  Emma shrugged.

  “What did you say to him?”

  Emma took a deep breath. “I told him Gabe was his.”

  Sylvia nodded. “I expect he’ll be down directly, then.”

  “No, he won’t. I told him to leave.”

  “And you think that’ll make him scurry off, do you?” Sylvia clucked her tongue. “You’ve been dealing with a five-year-old too long.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Once he’s had time to mull things over, he’ll come on down to take things in hand. About time we had a man around the house again. I—”

  “Take things in hand?” Emma threw her own hands in the air. “That’s exactly what I don’t want.”

  “Now, honey, I know you think you don’t need a man. But that’s pure hurt talking. A woman needs a man around. It’s nature’s way.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. Her mother came from a generation that believed in one man and one woman for life. But that fairy tale had blown up in Emma’s face too many times for her to believe in happily ever after. “The last time I checked we were living in the twentieth century, almost the twenty-first. Women have come a long way in the last fifty years. We have jobs now. We can support ourselves. Men are superfluous.”

  Sylvia lifted a brow. “Gabe came by immaculate conception, did he?”

  “Okay, maybe men serve one purpose, but a woman who wants children would only need one around for a few minutes every few years. Even if I wanted more children, I couldn’t afford them, so I don’t have that problem.” Emma crossed her arms over her stomach. “Aren’t we ready to eat yet? I’m starving.”

  “Whenever Rafe comes down.”

  Emma pressed her lips together to keep from screaming. What was with her mother? They’d gotten along so well ever since her father died, working together to raise Gabe and to keep the house from falling apart. Now Sylvia acted as if a man would solve all their problems. “I told you, he’s leaving. He’s not eating with us.”

  “If you’re sure...”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Well, then, get the serving bowls down, will you, honey?”

  Several silent minutes passed as they prepared the food for the table. Finally Sylvia asked, “What about the job? Rafe told me he was going to offer it to you.”

  Emma paused in her task of arranging the potatoes and carrots around the pot roast. “He did.”

  Her mother turned to her. “And?”

  “And nothing.” Emma resumed her work. “You fixed an awful lot of potatoes.”

  “I thought we were having a guest. Men can eat a lot of potatoes. The job didn’t pay enough?”

  “The salary was fine.” She should’ve known her mother wouldn’t let it go.

  “The hours weren’t good?”

  Emma placed the large spoon down with a thump and faced her mother. “The hours were fine. They were perfect, as a matter of fact. The salary would give us half again what I’m making now. Plus he offered to fix the roof on top of everything.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “The problem...” The irritation left as quickly as it had come. “The problem is me. Rafe wants to rent a couple of rooms upstairs to live and work in, and I don’t think I can stand having him around so much.”

  “But that would be perfect,” Sylvia exclaimed. “You’d be working right here at home. You were afraid getting another job would take you away from Gabe all the time.”

  “I know
, but...”

  “But what? How could you ask for a better opportunity?”

  “I couldn’t. It’s perfect. Great money and great hours doing what I’ve always wanted to do—all in the comfort of my own home.” Emma shook her head slowly. “But he’d be living here, Momma. Day in. Day out. He’d be here all the time.”

  “He should be living here, honey. He’s your husband and Gabe’s father.”

  “Those are just technicalities.” Emma flicked her hand, wishing she could wave her problems away as easily. “He was my husband for all of fourteen hours before he left. He hasn’t been around for six and a half years.”

  “That’s not his fault.”

  “I know, but...” Emma closed her eyes. She was so confused. “How can I let him back in my life? He’ll take over everything.”

  Sylvia shrugged. “So? Are you saying you wouldn’t like a little more help around here? You’re exhausted most of the time.”

  “Help is one thing. Having to fit my life around his is something else entirely. That’s what men expect you to do. I was supposed to quit school and move to Denver with Rafe because of his career. I moved to Nashville so Jerry could finish his law degree.” She lifted a hand helplessly. “I have to think of myself for once, and Gabe. I have my own career, which I don’t want to give up.”

  “Doesn’t sound like he’s asked you to give up anything.”

  “No, but he could. It’s what men do.”

  Sylvia shook her head sadly. “You’ve loved Rafe for almost seven years. You wore his ring around your neck all this time. Did your love disappear because he showed up on your doorstep?”

  Emma looked away. “This Rafe is an entirely different man from the one I loved. I don’t know who he is anymore.”

  “Then get to know him again. One thing I can tell you from the time I spent with him today—he’s not the kind of man who’s going to give up easily. Look how long he’s been searching for his memories. Do you think he’s going to walk out of your life now, especially knowing Gabe is his son?” Sylvia patted her shoulder. “You’re going to have to deal with him on some level.”