by Linda Warren
He walked away with a spring in his stride. As he got into his truck, he waved at the Johnsons and drove away.
How do you put a broken cowboy back together?
He now knew the answer to that question—with the love of a good woman.
Alex.
Chapter Seventeen
Alex soon discovered that life went on even when you had a broken heart. As each day passed and Brodie didn’t call, her hopes grew dimmer and dimmer. So she threw herself into the Davis case, often working late. Going home to an empty apartment wasn’t all that appealing.
She’d gotten used to Brodie filling it up. She’d gotten used to a lot of things about Brodie, especially his arms around her in the middle of the night. And she couldn’t believe how much she missed him—how much a part of her he’d become.
But she was trying to go on. She’d met a neighbor, Denise, and it was nice to have a girlfriend to talk to again. She’d missed that after Patsy had moved away. Talking on the phone wasn’t the same thing. Yet no matter how many friends she had to talk to, none of them could fill the void of Brodie.
As she hurried into the office, she heard loud voices coming from Buck’s room. Was Naddy here again? She was getting tired of playing referee, although lately they’d been getting along better than usual.
Naddy had gotten her money and she wasn’t trying to blow it all at once. She’d given some to Alex to put away for when she needed it. Naddy and Ethel had an Atlantic City trip planned for the end of the month. The hot tub had been installed and it kept Naddy and Ethel occupied—for now.
As she neared Buck’s office, she could hear the voices clearly. It wasn’t Naddy’s.
“Just get the hell out of Dallas.” That was Buck’s grumpy voice.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do that. I know I promised, but I have to see her.” She didn’t recognize the woman’s voice.
“What the hell for? It’s not going to make a bit of difference.”
“For me it will.”
“Stop thinking about yourself and think about what this will do to her.”
Alex didn’t have a clue what they were talking about so she started to just go to her office. But something propelled her forward.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Buck came around his desk. “Just go to your office. This doesn’t concern you.”
“Okay. But you don’t have to be so grouchy.”
“Are you Alex?” the woman asked.
She glanced from her father’s set face to the woman’s. She was pale, her skin almost chalklike, and her eyes were sunk in her head. She was painfully thin. Alex knew the woman was ill.
“Yes, I’m Alex. Do I know you?”
“No, you don’t,” Buck answered. “She was just leaving.”
“I’m not leaving, Buck.”
Buck took the woman’s arm in a firm grip. “Yes, you are.”
The woman jerked away and stumbled backward to a chair.
Alex ran to her aid. “Are you okay?”
“I just need a moment.” She took several deep breaths.
“Go to your office, Alex. I’ll handle this.”
Alex glared at Buck. “Stop being so mean.” She opened Buck’s small refrigerator, got a bottle of water and handed it to the woman. “This might help.”
“Thanks.” The woman took several sips, staring at Alex. “You’re so pretty. Just like I knew you’d be.”
“Oh. You’ve seen me before?”
“No.”
Alex was taken aback, not sure what to make of her answer. She thought it best to let Buck handle whatever was going on. Besides, the veins on his neck were popped out and he looked ready to explode. Naddy was usually the perpetrator of that effect.
“Just go,” Buck said again and she turned to leave.
“I’m Gwen Canton,” the woman said in a rush, breathing heavily. “I’m your…your mother.”
Alex swung back. “What!”
“I’m your mother.” Gwen said the words very clearly this time.
Alex waited for Buck to deny what the woman was saying, but he just stood there white as a sheet.
“You must be delusional,” she said, trying to hold on to a thread of sanity. “My mother’s name was Joan.” She looked at her father. “Buck?”
He walked to his chair and sank into it. Tiny frissons of fear shot through her heart. This couldn’t be happening to her, not after what she’d been through with Brodie.
She wanted to rant and scream at Buck, but anger never accomplished anything. She’d learned that from Brodie. Now she just wanted answers.
“Tell me how you can be my mother.”
Gwen stared at Buck, but he remained stone-faced.
Gwen clasped the bottle in her hands. “I worked at the police station when Buck was a cop. Joan had had three miscarriages and cried a lot because she desperately wanted a baby. The doctor told her it probably wasn’t going to happen. Buck was upset and when he worked the nightshift he’d talk to me. One thing led to another and we had an affair.”
Buck got up and walked to the window.
“When I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t know what to do. My family is very strict Baptist and I was involved with a married man. I was young, unmarried and I didn’t want the baby. I decided to give it up for adoption. But Buck wouldn’t hear of it. He told Joan and though she was angry with him for his infidelity, she wanted his baby. I agreed to give the baby to them.”
Gwen took a swallow of water. “I quit my job and moved to Austin. Buck paid for my apartment and all my medical bills. Joan told everyone she was pregnant again and wore maternity clothes. When I started having contractions, I called them and they came to Austin. As soon as I delivered you, the nurse carried you to Joan. I never got to hold you. I was only told you were a girl.” She took a long breath. “Buck gave me ten thousand dollars to start over again and I promised to never come back or interfere in your life.”
“But you are here,” Alex said, surprised at how calm she was.
“Yes.” Gwen studied the bottle. “I went to nursing school, got a good job and fell in love. My husband had two children and I raised them. Sadly I was never able to have any of my own again.” She clasped the bottle tighter. “I’m an emergency room nurse and one evening a drug addict broke into our medicine cabinet. He knocked out one nurse and I found him jamming a needle into his arm. We struggled and he thrust the needle into me before the security guards could contain him. He was HIV positive.”
Alex swallowed. “So you have AIDS?”
Gwen looked directly at her. “Yes. I don’t have much time left. I didn’t come here lightly, but when you’re facing death you think about so many things especially all the sins that you’ve committed over the years. I guess I’m looking for redemption, forgiveness for what I did to you.”
“For heaven sakes,” Buck growled, but they didn’t pay him any attention.
Gwen set the bottle on the floor and reached for her purse. She pulled out a slip of paper. “I’ve written the name of the motel and room number where my husband and I are staying. We’ll be here for a couple of days.” Gwen stood and laid the paper on Buck’s desk. “Think about what I said. I hope we can talk again.” She left quietly.
Alex picked up the paper and stared at Buck. “You could have told me.”
“Joan didn’t want you to know and I…”
Suddenly Alex couldn’t take anymore. She bolted for the door.
“Alex!” Buck shouted.
But she wasn’t listening. She jumped into her Jeep and headed…she didn’t know where she was going. Just away. Her pul
se raced and tears stung her eyes so she pulled into a parking lot.
Brodie had said that she didn’t understand how he was feeling. At the time she thought she did. But she wasn’t even close. This kind of betrayal was debilitating and it could cripple her—if she let it.
She watched a stream of cars stopped at a red light. The light turned green and the cars moved on. This was a red light moment in her life, as Brodie’s discovery had been for him.
She’d learned from him and what he’d been through. His love empowered her, made her stronger, and this red light wasn’t going to change a thing. She wasn’t sinking into self-pity, whining why, why, why. She had never known Joan so allowing herself a green light was easy. Buck was still her father. Naddy was still her crazy grandmother. Her life was still the same, except now she knew the truth.
It came home to her just how difficult this had been for Brodie—to deal with being another person. She didn’t truly understand until now….
She realized she still had Gwen’s paper clutched in her hand. Unfolding it, she knew she had to tell Gwen that there was nothing to forgive. She hadn’t had a Leave It To Beaver life, but who did? She had Buck, who was always there for her even though she had a hard time understanding him. And she had Naddy, who made her laugh and taught her to accept people the way they were. Life wasn’t all that bad.
Glancing at the name of the motel, she started the Jeep. As she pulled out into traffic, her cell rang. It was Mrs. Bigly, Buck’s next-door neighbor.
“I’ll be right there, Mrs. Bigly,” she said.
What Mrs. Bigly had told her couldn’t be true, but she had to find out. She whizzed through traffic and soon zipped into Buck’s driveway. She noticed the grass was almost brown. Damn. Quickly, she turned on the sprinklers and ran into the house.
She marched through the den to stare out the French doors leading to the patio. Mrs. Bigly was right. Naddy and Ethel were in the hot tub naked as jaybirds. Good grief, the world didn’t need to see this.
She swung open the door. “Naddy, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Honeychild, get in the tub with us.” Naddy was unperturbed by her appearance.
“Not for a million bucks. Get out this instant. The neighbors are complaining.”
“That old Bigly lady, right?” Naddy took a swig from the beer can she had perched on the edge of the tub.
“She’s younger than you.”
“She’s a busybody.”
“Get out of the tub.” Her voice rose.
“Bigly can’t see a thing.”
“Her patio is right next door.”
“I can’t see her, so how can she see us?”
“Have you got cataracts?”
“No. I have a Buick. You know that.”
Alex heaved a put-out sigh. “I said cataracts, not Cadillac.”
“Oh. Now I might have those.”
“Get out of the tub.”
“Okay. Keep your britches on.” Naddy made to get up.
“No,” Alex shrieked, seeing more than she needed to. “I’ll get your robe and I’ll get one for Ethel, too. Don’t move until I get back.”
“Make up your mind.”
Alex hurried inside to Naddy’s room and rummaged through the pile of clothes for a robe. She couldn’t find one. The humor of the situation got to her and she sank to her knees laughing.
Suddenly the events of the day hit her like a brick wall and the laughter turned to tears. Loud sobs racked her body. She had a mother and she was dying. She was losing a mother—again.
Brodie, I need you. Come home.
“Honeychild, what is it?” Naddy asked from the doorway, dressed in her robe. Ethel stood behind her.
“I was looking for your robe,” she replied inanely, pushing up to sit on the bed.
“I had it outside. If I’d known it was going to upset you this much, I would never have done it.” Naddy sat beside her. “Ethel and me just wanted to see what it was like. Hell, we don’t get too many thrills these days.”
“I’m not crying about that.” She brushed away tears. “But don’t ever do that again.”
“Okay. Okay.” Naddy rubbed her arm. “What’s the waterworks about?”
“Joan wasn’t my mother.”
“Sure she was.”
“I’ll fix some coffee,” Ethel said and went into the kitchen.
“What are you talking about, Alex?”
“Joan wasn’t my mother,” she repeated.
“Now I might be getting senile, but I know Joan was pregnant with you. She’d had three miscarriages and she was so happy to be able to get pregnant again. She and Buck went to Austin for a weekend and she started having contractions. You were born there and they brought you home in a couple of days.”
Alex told Naddy the story she’d heard from Gwen.
“Buck had an affair!”
“Yes.”
“That sly dog.” Naddy rubbed her arm again. “Are you okay, child?”
“I’m trying…” She looked up to see her father standing in the doorway.
Naddy got up and shook her finger in Buck’s face. “You lying dog. You tell her the truth and don’t leave out anything. I ought to box your ears.”
“Give it a rest, Naddy,” Buck said. “This is the pot calling the kettle black.”
“I know I’m not a saint.”
“Well, neither am I.”
“You got that one right, Bucky.”
Buck shook his head. “Go somewhere else. I need to talk to Alex.”
Naddy stomped out and Buck looked around. “This is a pigsty. Let’s go to the kitchen.”
Alex followed and noticed that Naddy and Ethel were back in the tub with their swimsuits on.
Buck poured a cup of coffee and sat down. “What do you want to know?”
Getting Buck to talk about personal things was a major accomplishment, so she pulled out a chair, ready to get her pound of flesh.
“Did you love Gwen?”
“No. I loved Joan, but she got very hard to live with. She was always depressed and crying. Each miscarriage made life that much harder.”
“She forgave you for the affair?”
“After a lot of tears, yes. Once she knew Gwen didn’t want the baby, that changed everything. The first moment she held you, she became a different person. She became the woman I married—happy, loving and caring. She adored you. She just wasn’t given enough time.”
“Why did you keep it a secret?”
Buck fingered his cup. “That’s the way Joan wanted it. She wanted you to be our baby completely, and I’d hurt her so badly that I was willing to do anything she wanted.”
“After her death, why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
“You were two years old. What would you have understood? To me, you were Joan’s daughter.”
“But I wasn’t.”
“What does it matter who gave you life? Joan gave you her love. You were our kid.”
She thought of Brodie. Helen had given him life, but his first loyalty had been to Claudia. A biological bond was one thing. But there was another kind of bond that was just as strong. It was called love.
Had Brodie already figured that out? Now he had to face the biological bond and make sense of it all. As did she.
The sudden revelation in her life seemed minor compared to what Brodie was going through. That first day when Helen had told her about her son, Alex had looked at Brodie’s photo and felt a connection like she’d never felt before. Maybe subconsciously she had known they were kindred spirits. And eventuall
y would become so much more. But now…
Now she had to deal with her father. “Yeah. I’m your kid. Can’t escape that one.”
“No, ’fraid not.”
She scooted her chair forward. “When I asked about Joan, you would never talk much about her. Does Gwen have anything to do with that?”
“Oh, God.” He got up for another cup of coffee. “You want your pound of flesh, don’t you?”
“Every ounce.”
He sat down again, staring into his cup. “I…ah…you know.”
“You loved Joan?”
“Yeah. Talking about her wasn’t easy because, well, you know.”
“It hurt like hell.”
“Yeah.”
She stood. “Buck, you’re too old for me to finish your sentences.”
“Girl, that ain’t me.”
“It can be.” She watched him for a moment. “How do you feel about me?”
“What?” He glanced up with a puzzled frown. “Well, you know.”
“No, I don’t. You have to say the words, Buck. I deserve that.”
“You may not be Joan’s daughter, but you sure act like her. She was on and on about that, too.”
“How do you feel about me?”
He stared at her as if she’d suddenly grown two heads. “I…ah…love you.”
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his rough cheek. “I love you, too.”
“Ah, girl, don’t start that.” He tried to push her away, but not very strongly. “We’re not that kind of family.”
“Things are changing at the Donovan house.”
“You don’t live here anymore,” he reminded her. “And when are you gettin’ all that stuff out of your old room? I could rent it out.”
Normally those words would be hurtful to her, but not today. She’d heard the magic words.
She leaned in with her palms flat on the table. “Okay. Here’s the deal. I’ll forgive you if you’ll forgive Naddy for your rotten childhood.”