by Linda Warren
“I don’t know why you keep that woman,” Olivia said. “She’s very rude.”
“But reliable,” the judge replied, making his way into the dining room.
Olivia had gone all out: china, crystal, silver and his grandmother’s best linens. He sat at the right of his father. Olivia sat across from him. Mavis placed the food on the table and left without a word. The judge carved the prime rib, and they ate dinner. The conversation centered around Hardy’s career.
As they talked, Hardy couldn’t help but think of how warm and different it was eating in Angie’s kitchen. Dinner with his father and Olivia suddenly seemed too stuffy and formal. The tension was about to get to him.
Hardy refilled their wineglasses and they slowly made their way into the living room. Before they could start discussing the election again, he said, “I have something to tell y’all.”
Olivia sat on the sofa. “What is it?”
“I hope it’s not something to do with Angie’s daughter again.” The judge took his seat in a wing-back chair. “You’ve spent entirely too much time away from the office, and it’s time to get your mind back on business.”
The censure stung. “I’m well aware of everything that goes on in the office. I’m on top of it.”
“Every time I call you’re not there.”
Hardy took a sip of wine. “I have a cell, Dad, and you can reach me on it at all times.” He swirled the wine around in the glass. “But that’s not it, is it? You’re checking up on me.”
“I just don’t want this accident to derail you. I know it was emotional hitting the child, but you have to get past it.”
Hardy took a long breath. “It’s hard to do that when you hit your own child.”
The judge’s eyebrows knotted together like one large caterpillar. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Hardy, what are you saying?” Olivia asked.
He blew out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I didn’t know until the accident that Erin is my biological daughter.”
“What the hell...” The judge was out of his chair in an instant.
“I have a daughter and she’s ten years old. I’ve been spending time with her, getting to know her.”
For the first time Hardy saw his father speechless. “Wh-what?”
“I have a—”
“I heard you the first damn time.” His father’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not falling for that old trick? Angie said her kid is yours and you believe her?”
“I know she’s mine.”
“Did you have a DNA test done?”
“Dad, listen to me.” Hardy sighed. “I don’t need a DNA test. She’s my kid.”
“Are you drunk?”
Hardy wanted to laugh but refrained. His father was not in a laughing mood. “No. I’m telling you because the news is going to be all over Horseshoe on Tuesday. It’s already leaking out, and I wanted you to hear the news from me.”
“How the hell can you be the father of Angie Wiznowski’s kid?”
“It doesn’t matter. I am.”
“Why didn’t she tell you? Why are you finding out now?”
“I was in Europe when she found out and she was unable to contact me. That’s all you need to know.”
“Who’s Angie?” Olivia carefully placed her wineglass on the coffee table.
“She’s a friend of Rachel’s,” his father answered. “After my wife died, Angie and Rachel became very good friends.”
Olivia looked at him. “And you and this Angie had an affair?”
Hardy wasn’t discussing what happened between him and Angie. Maybe Olivia deserved the truth, but he was in no mood to share it now. “Erin is my daughter and that’s all you need to know.”
Olivia got to her feet. “Let me get this straight. You’ve known for a week that you have a child with this woman—a ten-year-old child, and you’re just now telling me?”
“Yes. I’ve been trying to come to terms with it myself.”
“If you had told me from the start, we could have done something to combat the rumors that are sure to follow. Rumors that will hurt your run for office.”
“I’m not thinking about the election. I’m thinking about a little girl who needs a father. My first priority was making sure she knew who I was. She does now, and we’re making progress in our relationship. I want it to stay that way.”
“You need to get your head straight and figure out what you want.” Olivia reached for her purse on the sofa. “I’ve changed my mind about spending the night.”
He walked her to her car in silence. The moonlight was bright with whispers of romance, but Hardy wasn’t feeling too romantic. For some reason, he was feeling used.
She turned to face him. “This is going to hurt your election.”
“Olivia, I have a kid. That means something to me.”
She lovingly touched his chest. “I know, Hardy. I can hear it in your voice, but I’m not sure how this child is going to fit into your life—our lives. I’ll be busy with the trial, so I won’t call. I’ll give you some time and maybe by the end of the week we can talk about the future. By then, maybe you’ll see things differently.” She reached up and kissed him. He didn’t kiss her back. She got in her car and drove away, and he was left with a hollow feeling in his gut.
If this was love, it sucked. He went back into the house, knowing another confrontation was in store for him. His father didn’t give up easily.
In the kitchen, Mavis was putting away pots and pans. She glanced at him. “The Duchess didn’t take the news well, huh?”
Hardy leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “Were you eavesdropping?”
“Didn’t have to. It’s all over town that you’re Erin’s father. Doris Wiznowski called, wanting to talk to the judge. I told her he was out of town and she asked for him to call her back. What do you want me to do with that information?”
Hardy shrugged. “Give the message to the judge.” Doris could do all the bitching she wanted. It wasn’t changing a thing.
Mavis folded a dish towel and laid it on the counter. “I remember that summer Angie was here. Nice, sweet, compassionate young woman. Rachel couldn’t have had a better friend. You liked her, too. More than I realized.”
“What are you getting at, Mavis?”
“Have you noticed the difference between Angie and Olivia?” She held up her two index fingers. “Two different worlds. You have to decide which world you want to live in.”
“I haven’t been asked to live in Angie’s world.”
“Yeah. There’s that, but don’t fool yourself. You’ll be looking at those worlds very closely in the weeks ahead.” Mavis removed her apron. “Now, I’m going home to Harvey, who’s probably asleep in his chair.” She patted his shoulder and walked out the door.
His life had been on course and he’d known exactly what he wanted. That all had changed. He wasn’t even sure what his name was anymore. But he knew one thing for sure: he was not losing touch with his daughter. And Angie, well, that was just something he’d rather not think about. It made his head hurt with insecurities and doubts, which he rarely had.
“Hardy!” his father shouted.
Hardy pushed away from the counter and walked to his father’s study.
The judge sat at his desk with his glasses perched on his nose, a pen in his hand and a pad in front of him.
“I’ve been talking to Will Strickler. He’s a good family lawyer. We can do damage control. He’ll make Angie a financial offer and we can get this swept under the rug.”
Blood rushed to his face. “My daughter’s name is Erin, and she will not be swept under the rug. Somehow I thought you would be thrilled to have a grandchild, but obviously I was delusional. Forget I said anything.” He turned and left the room, wondering if that was all he was to his father—a means to an end to gain control of his seat on the bench. That was all that mattered to Hardison Hollister Sr.
But to Hardy,
life was about a whole lot more—love and family. Everything had changed in a week. He was questioning everything he wanted. Everything he’d worked for. And everything that was the crux of his life. He had to decide if he could let go of a dream he’d had since he was a kid. Once he made that decision, there would be no turning back.
Chapter Eleven
Angie thought she would hear from Hardy after he talked to his father. She waited up until eleven and then went to bed. An ache in her stomach told her the news about Erin didn’t sit well with Judge Hollister.
The next morning as she was making coffee, Hardy arrived. “Sorry it’s so early, I wanted to see Erin.”
“She’s still sleeping.” Unable to stop herself, she asked, “How did it go with your father?”
He heaved a sigh. “Not good. He wants a DNA test and I told him to stuff it.”
Angie’s stomach cramped. “How do you feel?”
His eyes caught hers. “What do you mean?”
“Do you want a DNA test?”
“No. I just have to look at her to know she’s mine. There’s never been any doubt about that.”
She relaxed. “Thank you.”
Staring into his deep blue eyes, she wanted to say so much more, but the words wouldn’t come.
“Mama,” Erin called. “Who’s here?”
“Can I?” Hardy motioned toward the hall.
Angie nodded, and soon she heard Erin squeal. She was happy to see her father. Hardy didn’t stay long, but he said he’d try to get back later. He had to meet with Wyatt and several other leaders of the community to discuss Horseshoe’s Fourth of July celebration.
As quickly as he had arrived, he was gone. Angie struggled with so many doubts and indecisions. But as long as she and Hardy stood firm together, they would be okay. The town gossipers and Judge Hollister didn’t matter. Oh, yeah, might need a dose of cough syrup to swallow that.
The morning went smoothly. No one from the family stopped by; things were quiet. Peyton called and said that Wyatt had grounded Jody for two days. Now Angie had to entertain a bored daughter. At about eleven Erin went to sleep on her bed while they played Monopoly. Angie kissed her and went to fix lunch.
A knock at the door stopped her. She thought it was probably one of Erin’s friends wanting to say hello. When she opened the door, she found Judge Hollister standing there with his cowboy hat in his hand.
Her heart jolted into her throat. “Good morning, Judge Hollister.”
He inclined his head. “Morning, Angie. May I come in?”
Not even if hell was freezing over crossed her mind, but she stepped aside. “Have a seat,” she said, being as polite as possible.
“No, thanks. This won’t take long.”
Angie tensed and prepared herself for whatever the man had to say.
“I hear you contend that your daughter is my son’s.”
“I don’t contend. It’s a fact.”
“Are you willing to back that fact with a DNA test?”
“I don’t have to. Hardy knows that Erin is his.” Her eyes never left his face.
“Well, now, you see—” he looked down at the hat in his hand “—my son tends to be a little gullible at times.”
“Then you don’t know your son.”
The old man never blinked. “I know my son better than you do. All his life he’s had one goal and that is to follow in my footsteps. The election for my seat on the bench is coming up, and he has plans to run, but now with all this gossip he has very little chance of winning. You have derailed his dreams and you stand there like it means nothing.”
Angie felt a crack in her demeanor. She knew of Hardy’s aspirations for political office, but she thought it was more of what his dad wanted for him. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she heard what she wanted to.
“I’m not apologizing for my daughter. Hardy had a right to know.” Her words were strong, but her insides quivered like Jell-O.
“What happened to that right ten years ago?”
“I don’t feel as if I owe you any explanation, and I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”
The judge looked at her long and hard. “Do the decent thing, Angie. Tell everyone you made up your daughter’s paternity and let Hardy have his dream. Don’t ruin his life.”
The Jell-O turned to a bubbling rage at his audacity.
“Mama.” Erin stood in the doorway on her crutches. A ball of fear replaced the rage. Had she heard those hateful words?
Trying to save face and trying not to hurt her daughter, she said, “This is Judge Hollister.”
“I...know. I’m gonna get a glass of milk.” She hobbled into the kitchen as if she sensed the tension in the room and wanted to get away from it.
The judge kept staring after Erin and made no move to speak. “Judge?”
“That’s her?”
“Yes, that’s Hardy’s daughter.” He seemed turned to stone. Angie just wanted him out of her house. She walked to the door and opened it. “Goodbye, Judge Hollister.”
He glanced distractedly at her. “Huh?”
“Goodbye, Judge Hollister.” She repeated.
This time he got the message and walked out, still with that stunned look on his face. Angie didn’t have time to worry about him. She had to get to Erin.
Erin sat at the table, flipping through one of her books, drinking milk. “What did he want, Mama?” she asked when she saw Angie.
The urge to lie was strong, but she’d promised her daughter she wouldn’t do that anymore. “He’s a grouchy old man and not happy that I kept you a secret for so long.”
“Why didn’t he say hi to me?”
“I don’t know, baby. Everyone needs time to adjust to the news.”
“Mr. Hardy doesn’t.”
“No. He doesn’t.” She smiled through a sea of tears. She hadn’t even realized she was on the verge of bawling like a baby.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” her child assured her as if she was the adult. It seemed her daughter was taking this better than she was.
“Now, what would you like for lunch?”
“Peanut butter and jelly on white bread. None of that healthy stuff.”
Angie made a face but agreed on one condition. “We have to have fruit, too.”
The rest of the day passed slowly, especially since Jody couldn’t come over and Erin was confined to the house. Hardy called midafternoon to talk to Erin. Of course, she blurted out that Judge Hollister had been by. He immediately wanted to talk to Angie.
She was unsure of what to say, so she told him as little as possible. Telling him everything would only hurt him. And she was still struggling with what the judge had said and asked of her.
As she settled Erin down to watch a movie, she had to wonder if she was ruining his life. The revelation that Hardy had gotten a young girl pregnant and had no idea about the child could only hurt his reputation. And that was the last thing she wanted. The consequences of keeping her secret were now beating at her from all sides. She was the one who was hurting Hardy. It would hang over her for the rest of her life. But there was one thing she would not do: she would not lie again about Erin’s paternity. The future looked so dim. She couldn’t even see Hardy in their lives. Once the newness of this situation wore off, would he continue to come around or would his career take precedence?
* * *
ON MONDAY, HARDY had a full day at the office. He stopped to see Erin for a few minutes and called her at noon. He and Wyatt spent many hours interviewing witnesses on a convenience-store robbery getting ready to go to trial. It was after nine when he left the courthouse.
Streetlights illuminated the old two-story limestone courthouse. Age and weather had yellowed some of the stones. The courthouse was connected to the sheriff’s office and jail. The buildings sat in the center of a town square that was in the shape of a horseshoe, hence the name for the town of about two thousand residents, give or take a birth or two. Gnarled live oaks and blooming red crepe myrtles enha
nced the old structure that stood as a sentinel from generation to generation.
Backing out of his spot, he glimpsed the Horseshoe Express across the street in one of the old brick-and-mortar stores. He whipped into a space in front of it. He knew the paper was probably already printed and getting ready to distribute in the morning. To ease Angie’s mind, he would try to finagle a copy.
The bell jingled over the door as he walked in. The smell of ink, dust and old paper greeted him. He could see Marlene and her husband, Wilbur, working in the back.
Marlene hurried to the counter. “Oh, Hardy, how can I help you?” There was a gleam in her eyes as if she knew something he didn’t.
“I came to pick up a paper.”
“They’ll be out first thing in the morning.”
His eyes didn’t waver from hers. “I’d like to have one now.” He reached for his wallet, pulled out a five and laid it on the counter.
She looked at the money and then at his face. Suddenly, a smile emerged. “Can’t wait, can you?”
“No, ma’am. My daughter has written an article, and I’d like to be the first to read it.”
She hurried to the back and returned with the paper rolled up and ready to distribute. Laying it on the counter, she said, “This is going to be the talk of the town for days to come.”
He picked up the paper. “Not that long, I hope.”
As he headed for the door, she called, “Congratulations.”
Getting in his truck, he resisted the urge to open the paper. He wanted to read it with Angie. It was almost ten when he pulled into her driveway, yet the kitchen light was still on.
He tapped on the door, and she let him in. Yesterday she’d been hesitant to discuss his father’s visit. The judge must have said something to upset her. He wanted to know what, but first they had to deal with the paper.
“Look what I have.” He held up the paper.
Her eyes lit up. “You got a copy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked around. “Where’s Erin?”
“She’s in bed. She wanted to wait until you came by, but she couldn’t hold her eyes open any longer.”
“Sorry. Wyatt and I got hung up at the courthouse.”
“She understands.” Angie glanced at the rolled-up paper in his hand. “Have you read it?”