by Anita Mills
“Did you stop to think Ross could have been lying to you?”
“He wasn’t. I didn’t have to read any letter to know it. It just sort of added up, anyway.”
“I hate to think of a child out there with nobody to love him. He’s probably hurting a lot worse than you are.”
“Did you read Lydia’s letter?”
“Yes.”
“It just confirmed what he said, didn’t it?”
“Yes.” Snuggling against him, she added, “But she could’ve been lying about that, too, you know. While I hate to speak ill of the dead, I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
“No. As pretty as she was, it was all on the surface. But I’ll say this about her; then I don’t want to talk about it any more—she sure knew how to use her looks to her advantage.”
Tracing his bare arm with her fingers, she said, “You know, strange as it seems, I almost feel sorry for him.”
“You would—you’ve got a soft heart. Look, I’d rather not waste any more time on either of them.” Responding to her touch, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into his embrace. “I just want to forget them and think about you.”
“As despicable as he is, he loved her, you know.”
Rather than repeat himself, he kissed her, stifling conversation. “When did you feed Jessie?” he murmured as his hands found the ribbon at the neck of her gown.
“Midnight.”
“Think if we’re quiet about it, she’ll sleep a little longer?”
“Probably. Spence—?”
“If it’s about anything but us, I don’t want to think about it. I just want to lose myself in you, and stay there forever.”
“As much as I’d like that, it’s pretty impossible,” she murmured, helping him with the buttons. “I just wonder—”
“You’re pretty talky this morning, aren’t you?”
“I’ve just got something on my mind, that’s all,” As his hand worked her gown up, her breath caught, and she felt that familiar wave of desire flood her body. “But it can wait a while,” she managed to whisper. “Right now, there’s nothing I’d rather do than this.”
“Just don’t wake the baby,” he reminded her. “I don’t want her thinking we’re killing each other.”
Settling under him, she reached for his neck and parted her lips for his kiss. “Mrs. Hardin, do you have any idea how good you are?” he asked huskily.
Smiling seductively, she said softly, “I’d rather you showed instead of told me. I won’t need a lot of time this morning, Spence. I’m downright ready.”
As he began kissing her in earnest, her last rational thought was that the other matter wasn’t going to be easy. Then he found the dampness between her thighs, and she tried to remember not to moan as she gave herself over to him.
If he hadn’t loved her, he would’ve put up more of a fight about going to church on a weekday. It was a quaint old church she’d discovered, she told him, one where the old Spanish dons had worshipped, and he ought to see it. It didn’t make much sense to his Baptist mind for him to sit through a Catholic Mass neither of them understood, but she’d asked him to humor her, and he would.
“It looks pretty deserted to me,” he observed as the driver halted the pair of horses. “They must turn out more on Sunday.”
“We’re early. I thought we could walk around the grounds first. There’s a lovely garden, a school, a convent—things like that—it’s really quite remarkable. There’s a goodly number of Catholics in California because the Spanish brought missionaries with them.”
“You sound like a damned guidebook—I hope you know that.”
“I just want you to see it, that’s all.”
“Thad Bingham would turn over in his grave if he knew I was here,” he muttered.
“I thought he was a man of God.”
“He was.”
“Then he surely wouldn’t feel like that. If it hadn’t been for monks copying scripture back in the Dark Ages, none of us would have the Bible, including us Baptists. Besides, whether I accept the religion or not, I know the nuns do a lot of good in this world.”
“I’m not disputing it. I just never knew you were quite so broadminded, but I guess there’s probably some other things about you I don’t know yet either.”
“Probably a lot of them.” She’d always disliked devious people, and she hated being one. No matter how she did this, she had a pretty fair notion he was going to be angry. “That’s the convent over there,” she told him, pointing. “And that other building is where the nuns work with the children.”
Following her direction, he could see the black-robed woman standing before several rows of dark-skinned kids, lining them up to march them somewhere. “They don’t look old enough to be in school. That looks more like some sort of nursery.”
She drew a deep breath, then looked up at him. “It’s an orphanage, Spence. Ross Donnelly brought Joshua here and left him. The only truth he told the nun in charge was that Josh wasn’t an orphan. He said the child had been abandoned and had nobody to care for him. He told her that no one wanted him, but that is a lie.” She could see his face darken, and she knew she was in for a fight. “I want him, Spence.”
“No! I’ll do a lot of things for you, but not that!” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned and walked away, his anger evident in every step.
“Spence, listen to me!” she cried, hurrying to catch up with him, “He’s already lost his mother! Do you want him to grow up without a father, too?”
“He’s not mine!” he shouted at her.
“He could be! You don’t know that she didn’t lie about that just to get herself another man!”
“He had to have slept with her, Laura!”
“So? Does that make it a certainty that that little boy in there is his? She gave herself to you, too!” Lowering her voice, she tried to reason with him. “But whether he has one drop of your blood or not, he’s got your name. They’ve got him listed as Joshua Hardin in their records here.”
“Laura,” he said hoarsely, “don’t ask me to do this, because I can’t.”
“If you could just see him, it’d touch your heart. Please, Spence—that’s all I’m asking. You don’t even have to tell him who you are.”
“I’m nothing to him! Don’t you understand?—I’m nothing to that kid!”
“All right, maybe you aren’t In that case, I’d like to adopt him.”
“What? Have you lost your mind?”
“I think he’s yours, but if he isn’t, we can make him yours, anyway. Spence, he’s got black hair like yours. Anybody who looked at him would think he belonged to you.”
Lydia had dark hair.”
“And so do you. So what if it’s not quite as black as yours—it’s real dark. You’ve just got to see him— you’ve just got to.”
“No!”
“Looking can’t hurt anything,” she persisted.
“The hell it won’t! It’d be just like looking at her, and I’m damned if I want to! A man doesn’t want to be reminded he was a fool—can’t you understand that?”
“No, I can’t. I know you were married to her, and I know you must’ve wanted her, and I know she was a beautiful woman who had you first, Spence. And I know everybody says he looks just like her. If I used your logic, I wouldn’t want to look at him either, just because I’d be reminded she’d lain in your arms first, she’d been the one you whispered all those passionate words to first, but—”
“Then you ought to understand. I don’t ever want to see her again.”
“She’s in the ground back at McPherson. You’re not looking at her—you’re looking at Joshua Hardin. You’re looking at a little boy who’s got your name. If I can stand to do it, you can, too.” When he turned away again, she caught his arm, holding him there. “Every morning, you hold Jessie and hug and kiss her, Spence. Doesn’t it bother you that she looks like my first husband? When you loo
k at her, do you see me lying underneath him doing to him what I do to you? If you do, you sure are good at keeping it to yourself, because I could swear you love her as much as if you’d planted her in my body,”
“Laura—”
“I can’t help it, Spence. He’s a handsome little boy, and he’s going to grow up in this orphanage. He’s going to grow up with black-robed nuns taking care of him instead of a mother. But worst of all, he’s going to know his name’s Hardin and he isn’t an orphan. Don’t you think he’s going to wonder what he did that was so awful his daddy didn’t want him?”
“You’re not being fair!”
“If I can love him, you can, too,” she said evenly. “Adopt him in your heart, and he’ll be yours.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“I haven’t asked for anything of you but your love in the months we’ve been married. I’ve been as good a wife to you as I know how, and you wouldn’t deny it. Well, I’m asking for something now.”
He stood there, looking into her upturned face, seeing the tears spilling down her cheeks. “If I look at him, then walk away, he’s going to feel worse,” he said finally.
“I don’t think you’ll walk away. I don’t think you can.”
“If I do, will you still be satisfied to leave it at that—or are you going to pester me to keep coming back?”
“If you can’t stand to look at him more than once, I guess I’ll have to accept it. But I want you to understand, I’ll be coming to visit him. You don’t have to come with me, but he’s going to know somebody cares about him.”
“But you won’t mention him to me again?”
Afraid he could see the elation in her face, she had to force herself to meet his eyes. “I won’t mention him to you again, Spence. You’ll have to ask me to find out how he’s doing.”
“All right. You’ve made sure that she’s still got a hold on me—I hope you realize that.”
“She’s dead. She can’t do anything to or for anybody anymore, including herself. But you’d better come on—I told the sister in charge we’d be here at four, and we’re late.”
As they entered the building, there was a waiting area in front of the office door. Sitting ramrod straight, a stern-looking couple waited in chairs by the entrance. As he passed them to take a seat across the room, Spence thought the woman looked as sour as if she’d been drinking vinegar. A young nun sat in the corner, watching several children, trying to keep them quiet.
“If you’ll wait, here,” Laura told him, “I’ll see if we can still arrange to see him.”
When she entered the office, he could see her talking to someone behind a desk. He wanted to pray the sister wouldn’t let them see the child, but he knew Laura would just drag him back tomorrow. No, he might as well get it over and done with. When he looked up again, the door was closed, and he realized he’d been left to fidget while she told the head nun only God knew what.
He didn’t notice the child come in and sit down next to him until the kid began swinging his legs, kicking the wooden rung of his seat restlessly.
“I hope I’m not in trouble again,” boy said wistfully.
“You get in trouble often?” Spence asked, his eyes on that closed door.
“Some.”
Turning to look at him, Spence froze. “Oh, God.”
“You in trouble, too, mister?”
It was hard to say anything. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you put your hand on the table ‘stead of holdin’ it up, and it don’t hurt near as bad when she hits it.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” It had been like looking into Lydia’s eyes again. “What did you do?”
“I dunno.”
“You must have an idea.”
“No. It’s always somethin’ I didn’t know I did.”
“Like what?”
The kid gave his chair several kicks before he answered. “Bad words. You’re not s’posed t’ say hell or things like that, but I must’ve.”
“You don’t remember?”
“I get mad.”
“Oh.”
“You cuss, mister?” the kid asked curiously.
“Some.”
“Then you can’t let sister hear it, or she’ll smack your hand real good.”
Casting a sidewise glance at the child, Spence was struck by how sober he was. “So—have you been here a long time?”
“Yeah.” Leaning close, the kid confided, “I hope them folk’s not comin’ to ‘dopt me. Don’t she look mean?”
“Well, she doesn’t look like she’d be much fun to live with,” Spence conceded.
“That’s what I was thinkin’.”
“Do you want to be adopted?”
“I dunno.”
“I’d think you’d have to be an orphan to be adopted.”
“I dunno.” The boy’s dark eyes looked at nothing for a moment before he turned them on Spence. “My mama’s dead.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I guess so. I’d ruther have m’ mammy, but she’s dead, too.”
“Auntie Fan.”
“How’d you know that? You got one, too?”
“No. I just knew her, that’s all.”
“She was a big ole fat mammy, and she didn’t ’llow no sassin’. She got mad, even Mama was skeered of her. I liked that ole woman.”
“Yeah, so did I.”
The office door creaked as it started to open, and the boy jumped down from the chair. “Bye. I gotta go see her.”
He looked sturdier than Spence had pictured him, and he had that all-boy look to him, like he could be a handful. And there was no question about it— Laura hadn’t lied when she’d said he was a handsome child. He watched Joshua Hardin cross the room, trying to see something of himself in that little body.
“Well, Josh, if you’re not a sight for sore eyes! You look even bigger than you did yesterday!” Laura was in the doorway, bent over, greeting the kid. “You remember me, don’t you?”
“Yes’m. You was comin’ back to visit me.”
With an elderly nun hovering behind her, she took the boy’s hand. “I’ve got somebody over here who wants to meet you, Josh, He’ll be real excited,” she added, pointing to Spence.
“No, he won’t. I done seen ’im.”
“Did you tell him your name?”
“No, ‘cause he didn’t ask me,”
“Well, maybe you’d better.”
The kid wasn’t looking sober at all now. “I’m not in trouble?”
“Of course not. I asked if you could come down to see me.”
A sigh of relief escaped him. “I was ’fraid I was gettin’ ’dopted, and she just don’t look like a mama.”
Stopping in front of Spence, she urged the child, “Tell him your name,”
“Joshua Hardin.”
“We’ve met,” Spence managed.
“No, we ain’t—not ’xactly. Not till you tell me yours, we ain’t. We just been jawin’ some.”
“Spence?”
Her eyes were swimming as she looked at him, and he knew he couldn’t disappoint her or the kid. Bending down close to eye level with the dark-haired, dark-eyed boy, he tried to smile. “My name’s Hardin, too—Spencer Hardin. I’m your daddy, and I’ve been looking for you for a long time. Last time I saw you, you weren’t much bigger than a minute, so I don’t expect you to remember me.”
The kid’s eyes grew big like saucers; then an excited grin lit his face. “I been waitin’, that’s for sure,” Wheeling, he ran to the office. “You hear that, Sister ‘Lotta? I ain’t got to stay!”
The tears spilled over, streaking her face, as Laura whispered, “Thank you.”
“He cusses.”
“Surely not—he’s too little.”
“He told me himself.”
“Well, we’re going to change that.” She hesitated long enough to take a quick look at Joshua before she tur
ned back to Spence. “You do want him, don’t you? No matter what I told you outside, it’s going to take both of us to raise him.” Before he could answer, she added quickly, “I know I can love him. I’m halfway there already, because there’s just something about him that reminds me of you.”
Just then, Josh emerged from the office to make a dashing sweep of the room, whopping, “My daddy’s come to get me!” As he passed the other couple, he shouted, “You ain’t takin’ me home—you got to get you another little boy now!”
“Since he’s got the Hardin name, he might as well have the Hardins to go with it,” Spence said finally. “But with three children by this time next year, we’ll damned sure need to build a house.”
As the boy ran past her, Laura scooped him up to hug him. “I’m your new mama, Josh, but we’re going to get along just fine, ’cause we’ve both got brown eyes. And you know what?—you’ve even got a little sister, and her name’s Jessie.”
Setting him down, she looked to Spence. “You can build me a fancy house if you want to, but it’s the people in it that’ll count to me.”
“As long as I’ve got the money to pay for it, you can have anything you want, Laurie.”
“Well, then I want you to give up cussing. All those damns and hells will have to go, or he’ll just keep repeating them.”
“I’ll try.” Afraid she’d start crying again, he put his arm around her shoulders. “Well, I guess we round him up and take him home,”
“Yes—just as we planned on all the way out here. Sister Carlotta says if you’re his natural father, you don’t have to sign but one paper. Actually, I think she’s more than a little glad to see him go.”
“I was afraid of that. I don’t know why, but he’s not quite what I’d imagined.”
“Oh?”
“He may be the spitting image of Lydia, but aside from that, there’s nothing about him that reminds me of her. I just hope he’s not too much for you.”
Under the disapproving eyes of the two nuns and the sour-faced couple, she pulled his head down close enough to kiss him. “Now that I’m not ironing and scrubbing, he’ll give me something to work on.”
His arms closed around her, holding her tight, as he fought the lump in his own throat. “We’ve got everything now, Laurie,” he told her. “And it’s just going to keep getting better. I’ll get my practice built up, we’ll have a fine house up on the hill, and you’ll be the belle of San Francisco.”