“I can’t believe you went to all this trouble,” Jane said as she studied the contents of the refrigerator. Hot dogs and salads sat on the top two shelves. An assortment of sodas filled the door. A bottle of white wine rested on its side on the bottom.
“I’d promised the two of you a baseball game,” Adam said, pulling out the wine and closing the refrigerator door. “What else was I supposed to do?”
“But a barbecue in the rain? We could have rescheduled.”
“The porch is wide enough to handle the grill. Besides, did you want to have Billie to yourself all day? She strikes me as the type of kid to go stir-crazy in this kind of weather.”
“She is a little trying. I was thinking about driving into town to catch a movie with her. It was that or lock her in a closet.”
He smiled. “We still can. The movie part. After we eat.”
“Sure. Unless you’ve made other plans for tonight?” She sounded to herself as sophisticated as the twelve-year-old who’d first fallen for him. Get a grip, she told herself.
“Not at all.”
When she’d woken up to a gray wet day, Jane had been convinced that Adam would excuse himself from seeing her and Billie today. Disappointment had flared, her distress much stronger than it had a right to be. It had been almost a week since she’d seen him. Every day she’d strolled in her yard after he got home from work and had hoped he might come outside, too. He hadn’t, and she’d gone inside each night feeling foolish and lonely. It was worse than being a teenager again. Back then she hadn’t known what she was missing.
Billie had been almost as crushed as she was. Adam’s phone call had rescued them both from a case of the blues.
In concession to the muggy heat, he wore shorts and a T-shirt. She tried not to stare, but his long lean legs, tanned from his morning jogs, stretched endlessly down to deck shoes. The T-shirt wasn’t any safer to study, she thought, taking in the broad expanse of chest and rippling muscles. The man was a walking cliché. Tall, dark, handsome. How had she ever found the strength to walk away?
Upstairs, in the far reaches of the house, something thudded to the floor. Adam looked up. “Should we go investigate?”
“No. Knowing Billie, she’s found something to throw, or hit.”
“I must admit, I didn’t think she’d want to play dress up.”
Charlene had sent the girl up into the attic with the promise of chests of old clothes and secret treasure.
“She will. Only don’t expect her to come down dressed as a princess or movie star. She’d rather be a pirate. Maybe she’ll find the secret Barrington treasure lost during the Civil War.”
Adam opened a drawer in the center island of the kitchen and removed a corkscrew. “You’ve been gone too long.”
“Why?”
“It’s the War of Northern Aggression.”
“Sorry.”
“Besides, there isn’t any secret Barrington treasure.” He opened the wine and poured them each a glass.
“How do you know if it hasn’t been found?”
“You have a point.” He raised his drink toward her. “To friends?”
It was a peace offering, she realized with a sinking feeling in her stomach. A token that, after their intimate conversation last weekend, left certain doors opened. She was a coward and a liar.
“To friends,” she answered, tightening her grip on the stem so that he couldn’t see her tremble.
He rested his hand on the small of her back and pressed lightly, urging her toward the front parlor. The thick clouds made the late afternoon seem more like evening. Shadows filled the corners of the rooms. The steady drip-drip onto the porch railing should have soothed her, but the sound of rain only seemed to repeat the same refrain. “Tell him, tell him, tell him.” She would. Now.
He seated her on one end of the floral print sofa, then sat next to her. He’d left enough space between them so that they weren’t touching, but he hadn’t sat on the far end, either. Brown eyes regarded her thoughtfully. What would have happened if Billie hadn’t interrupted them? she wondered. How far would his caresses have gone? Would he have hated her more or less when he found out the truth? There was only one way to find out.
“Adam, I—”
“I’ve been—”
They spoke at the same time.
“You first,” he offered.
“No. Go ahead.”
He took a sip, then set his glass on the table in front of them. Half-opened shutters allowed in the dusky light. A single lamp in the corner illuminated the area by the hallway door. He turned toward her and rested his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers inches from her shoulder.
“I’ve been thinking about our last conversation,” he said.
That look. She knew it. Sultry brown eyes caressed her face, then dipped lower. The filmy gauze of her tank top provided little protection against what he sought. Her small breasts swelled as her nipples hardened inside her bra.
“Me, too,” she confessed.
“Everything between us is different,” he went on. “I didn’t expect—” He shrugged, as if not sure how to put his feelings into words.
“I know.” His long fingers brushed her bare shoulder. She leaned forward. “But first, Adam, I have to tell you some—”
Something heavy thumped down the stairs, followed by clattering footsteps.
“Look what I found!” Billie called. “Hey, where are you guys?”
“In here,” Jane said. Timing, she thought grimly. Just when she’d been about to spill the beans. Maybe locking Billie in a closet wasn’t such a bad idea. She shook her head. She’d just have to wait until her daughter went to bed. Then she and Adam could be alone and she’d tell him the truth.
“There’s a bunch of sports equipment and uniforms. I found this softball and bat. Can I have this jersey, Adam? And where’d you get the wig?”
At last Billie stepped into the doorway. The light from the lamp highlighted her appearance, including the blue and white numbered jersey that hung down to her knees and the long blond wig perched on her head. In one hand she held a softball, in the other a mitt.
Jane felt her breath catch in her throat. That wasn’t her daughter standing there smiling proudly. It was another girl. Funny how with dark hair, Billie didn’t look much like Adam’s sister at all. But with the long wig, and her old high school team uniform, she was the spitting image of Dani Barrington.
“Well?” Billie asked. “What do you guys think?”
It was like in the movies, when everything suddenly happened in slow motion. Billie’s question sounded as if she were a hundred miles away. Jane felt her muscles clench as panic chilled her blood.
He knew.
She didn’t have to look at him to confirm her suspicions. She could feel it in the way he sat so quietly and stared at her daughter. His daughter.
Without saying a word, he rose to his feet and walked over to Billie. He crouched in front of her and touched her face.
“What?” she asked, puzzled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Billie.” His voice sounded hoarse. He kissed her cheek, then took her hand.
“Where are we going?”
“To see Aunt Charlene. You’re going to visit with her for a few minutes while your mother and I have a talk.”
Chapter Nine
“When were you going to tell me?” Adam asked.
The shock had sustained him for the time it had taken him to walk Billie over to Charlene’s. The older woman had taken one look at the girl’s outfit and blond wig and had gasped. The look in her eyes had been compassion for him, but not surprise. She’d known, as well. Looks as though he was the only one kept in the dark around here. He’d left Billie with his aunt. He would deal with Charlene and her betrayal another time. Right now all he cared about was Jane.
He leaned against the doorframe and stared into the dimly lit parlor. As the shock faded, cold deadly rage took its place. She’d made him angry when
she’d first arrived and pushed him to get in touch with his feelings. Then he’d lost his cool, but nothing like what was about to happen. Images formed in his mind—disconnected pictures of Billie laughing at him, smiling, burrowing in his arms. No wonder they’d gotten along so well.
A sharp pain jabbed his heart. A daughter. He had a daughter. His gaze narrowed as Jane rose from the sofa and walked toward the shuttered window.
“I asked you a question,” he said, struggling to keep his voice low and even. “When were you going to tell me?”
She laughed sharply and without humor. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the best I have.”
“Come on, Jane. You can do better than that.” He folded his arms over his chest. “What the hell kind of game have you been playing? I don’t even know where to begin.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Oh? Billie isn’t my daughter? You haven’t kept her from me for over eight years?”
“I…” She touched the shutter and swung it open. Dim light crept into the room and illuminated her profile. “Yes. Billie is yours.”
Her simple answer opened the floodgates. “That’s it?” he asked, stepping into the room. “That’s the whole confession? After all this time, you calmly announce she’s mine? Where do you get off, lady? You stole my kid. You ran away and had my child and didn’t tell me. How dare you play with my life, with Billie’s life?”
“I’m her mother.” She glanced up at him, her eyes flashing with temper.
“So?” he asked, taking another step closer to her. “Does that give you the right to lie to her? To me?”
“Dammit, Adam, I made the best decision I could at the time.”
“You think I care about you? After what you’ve done?” He clenched his hands into fists. “You had no right to steal my child from me. You had no right to keep her a secret. How long, Jane? How many years would have gone by until you told me?” He shook his head. “If we hadn’t been interrupted, you would have come to my bed last weekend. You would have made love with that lie between us.”
Her gaze faltered until she dropped her head toward her chest. “There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already told myself.”
“So what’s your excuse? What reason do you have for cheating me out of Billie? Who gave you the right to make that decision?”
She snapped her head up and glared at him. “You did, Mr. High and Mighty.” She pointed her finger toward his chest. “The day you coerced me into your bed.”
“Don’t give me that. I never did anything you didn’t want.”
“Now who’s lying? I wasn’t ready. You scared me. I would never have told you no, and you took advantage of that.”
A small measure of guilt joined his rage. “What are you saying? Are you accusing me of something?”
She held his gaze. “No. I’m telling you we both made choices we’ve come to regret.”
“You regret Billie?”
“Never.”
“Then what?”
The sound of rain filled the room, the steady drumming from the roof, the drip-drip off the porch covering. In the distance, he heard the rumble of thunder.
“I should have said no. Even though we were engaged, I wasn’t ready to be your lover. I should have told you.” She turned away and gripped the windowsill. “Aren’t you curious, Adam, about how I came to be pregnant? After all, you’re the one who decided it was time for us to go all the way, so you took me to the doctor and waited while I was fitted for a diaphragm. You’re the one who drove me to the next town, because I was too shy to get the prescription filled here in Orchard.”
He didn’t like the way the conversation had shifted. This was supposed to be about what she’d done. She’s the one who’d lied. Who’d had Billie. He had to focus on that. Instead the past intruded.
“I don’t care about any of this,” he said.
“I didn’t use it.” She spoke quietly.
“What?”
“The diaphragm. I couldn’t.”
“That’s the most ridiculous—”
“I was embarrassed.”
He turned away and swore.
“That doesn’t change anything, Adam.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t talk to you about anything.”
“Then what the hell were you doing marrying me?”
“I didn’t, did I?”
That one hit below the belt. He struggled to regroup his thoughts. “I’m not the villain in this piece. You’re the one who kept the secrets.”
“Only one.”
“Oh, yeah, just the fact that you were having my child. Is that why you ran? Because you found out you were pregnant?”
“No.”
He raked one hand through his hair. He couldn’t deal with this. Too much information in too short a time. He felt like exploding or lashing out or—“When?” he asked. “When did you figure it out?”
“When I got to San Francisco.” She continued to stare at the windowsill. Lightning ripped across the sky. The brief flash lit up the room. Three seconds later, a boom shook the house.
“Why didn’t you come home then? I would have—”
“Would have what? Married me? After I ran out on you? What was there to come home to? This town, where everyone would know I was a pregnant teenager? You didn’t want a baby, Adam. Why else would you have gone to all that trouble with the birth control? We’d never talked about kids.”
“Of course I wanted children. Maybe not right away, but that doesn’t give you the right to choose for me. Do you think I would have abandoned you?”
She leaned her forehead against the windowsill. “No.”
He hadn’t expected that to be her answer. He glanced at her, then began to pace the length of the parlor. The marble floors gleamed as he strode across them. He reached the fireplace and turned to face her.
“I don’t understand. If you didn’t think I’d abandon you, then what was the problem?”
“I couldn’t come back with Billie. My pride wouldn’t let me. I’d run out on the wedding. What sort of person would I be if I’d then come back because I was pregnant? Yes, you would have taken me in, but what was between us had already been determined. We would have had nothing but obligation.”
“That’s a tidy rationalization of your actions.”
She sighed. “I deserve everything you’re saying and I’m willing to listen if it makes you feel better. But don’t let your anger hide the truth. Telling you about the baby would have meant you’d be there, but only because you had to be.” She looked out the window and into the storm. “You didn’t care about the relationship anymore. If you’d really wanted me, you would have come after me. You never did.”
If you’d really wanted me, you wouldn’t have left, he thought, surprised that her leaving still had the power to hurt him. He should be grateful that he’d learned the lesson so early. Given a chance, people you love will leave you.
“I would have been the perfect banker’s wife,” she said. With one finger, she traced the trail of a raindrop against the glass. Another clap of thunder shook the house. “Young, easily trained. I wasn’t important enough to you. I realized that before the wedding. That’s why I ran. And when I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t bear the thought of being an obligation for the rest of my life.”
“You selfish bitch.”
She jerked her head around to stare at him. Surprise widened her hazel eyes. Her long braid trailed over one shoulder, but for once the thick silken length didn’t catch his attention.
“I realized—I couldn’t bear—” He mocked her in a falsetto voice. “It’s all about you, isn’t it? Did you ever once think about what I might want? That I might care about my daughter, want to see her born, watch her take her first step, hear her first word? You’ve taken a piece of my life away. You’ve stolen time that I can
’t recover. Worse than what I might regret, you have stolen your daughter’s birthright. Made her suffer when her life might have been easier. There were advantages I could have—”
“Money isn’t everything.”
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about people, a culture. A place to grow up knowing that generations before have walked the same path, lived in the same house. Your decision, blamed on me and circumstance, has destroyed two lives.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. A flash of lightning showed the trail of tears on her cheeks. “You’re right.”
He turned and hit the fireplace mantel. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“I know.”
“Why? Why did you come back? Why are you doing this?”
“I wanted Billie—” Her voice cracked. “I wanted the two of you to meet.”
“Was it all a sick game? We met. Big deal. Did you think I wouldn’t guess eventually? Who else aside from Charlene knows?”
“No one.”
“Your parents?”
“Yes.”
He cursed.
“I couldn’t tell you.” She took a step toward him as if to beseech him to listen. When he glared, she moved back. “When I first arrived, I wasn’t sure you’d want Billie in your life. She seems tough, but she’s still a little girl. If I’d told you about her right away, you would have been angry and might have said or done something that would have scarred her.”
He spun and walked over to stand next to her. “And you haven’t? You dare to judge me, when you’re the one telling all the lies?”
“I’m sorry.”
“So you’ve said. I don’t care about you, or your apologies.” He raised one hand to rub his temple and she flinched. He didn’t care that she thought him capable of hitting her. “That’s right, Jane. Be afraid. You can’t manipulate me anymore. You’ve taken something precious from me and by God, you’ll pay.”
*
By ten-thirty that night the storm had passed, leaving behind wet earth and clean damp air. A few stars braved the clouds, peeking out and winking. Now what? Jane asked herself for the thousandth time. Did she leave, or did she stay? A soft breeze cooled her heated skin. She shivered at the slight contact and pulled her knees up closer to her chest. Unlike Adam’s yard, hers didn’t contain as many trees. From her seat on the front porch steps, she could see out to the street. There wasn’t any traffic this late on a tiny street in Orchard. A few houses glowed with lights from within, but most of her neighbors had already retired for the evening. Her porch light didn’t chase away enough shadows to allow her to forget.
A Dad for Billie Page 13