Hard loving man

by Lorraine Heath

  He held up the book that reflected the black and gold school colors. “This is my yearbook.” In his youth, he’d never been much into keepsakes, but he’d purchased a yearbook his senior year because he’d known it would have a picture of Kelley in it.

  Jason simply stared at him.

  “You know what a yearbook is?” Jack asked.

  Jason nodded jerkily, and it occurred to Jack that his son was afraid.

  “Don’t you remember? My school has them. I always get one,” Jason said.

  “Oh, yeah,” Jack said quietly. “Guess I’m not thinking too clearly tonight.”

  Jason pointed toward the book. “Is she in there? My mom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And my dad?”

  Jack nodded, the knot in his throat threatening to suffocate him.

  “You know who he is?” Jason asked.

  “He’s sitting right here with you now.”

  “I mean my real dad.”

  His chest tightened, and he thought his heart might actually stop beating. I’m your real dad.

  He shook his head. “He might be in here. I don’t know.”

  “Can I see?”

  “You want to come in the house first where we’ll be more comfortable?”

  “No. I just wanna see.”

  “All right.” Jack thumbed through the pages until he found the one that showed a very young and very innocent-looking girl. If Jack had a daughter who looked like her and some guy had jumped her bones, Jack wouldn’t have threatened him with arrest. He would have beaten him black and blue. Strange how he saw things differently through the eyes of a parent.

  He turned the book and watched Jason’s reaction. It was slow in coming. A blink and then another and another, until he finally whispered, “She’s pretty.”

  Jason lifted his gaze to Jack’s. “She looks kinda like Madison. I mean, not like her twin or nothing, but young like her.”

  Jack felt as though he’d taken a blow to the midsection. The smart-mouthed hellion probably was the same age—or near to it—as Stephanie had been.

  “She was young, Jason. She dropped out of school. She didn’t have a job. She didn’t know how to take care of a baby. And she sure didn’t want to be taking care of a husband.”

  “Why did she say you were my daddy if you weren’t?”

  “I think she thought I was. We both thought I was. But as you started to get older, you didn’t look anything like me.”

  “Why’d you keep me?”

  Tears rolled over onto Jason’s cheeks, while tears stung Jack’s eyes. “Because right after you were born, I held you. You were so tiny, so perfect—and you looked at me with those big eyes of yours. At that moment, you were my son, Jason.”

  “But it’s a lie!”

  “No, it’s not a lie.” Jack pressed a balled fist to his chest. “In here, Jason, in my heart, you’re my son. I love you, and nothing is going to change that.”

  Jason sniffed and swiped at his cheeks. “Is there a picture of you in here?”

  Jack only allowed himself a small smile of victory. He knew he’d only begun repairs on the bridge to Jason’s heart. “Yeah, there is. But I won’t show it to you unless you promise not to laugh.”

  “I won’t laugh.”

  “All right, then.” Jack picked up the book and thumbed through the pages until he reached the one he was looking for. He turned the book away from Jason. “I don’t know if I should show you.”

  “Come on, Dad.” Jason’s eyes widened, and insecurity washed over his face. “Should I still call you that? I mean, if you’re not…you know? Should I call you that?”

  “Always.”

  Jack tipped his head to the side and patted the flooring beside him. Jason scooted over until they were sitting side by side. Jack opened the book and placed it in his son’s lap. He pointed to his photo. “That’s me.”

  “You’re dorky-looking!”

  “Hey, I was a stud.” Although looking at the photo with nine years’ experience having passed, he could see where he looked a little goofy.

  Jason peered up at him. “Does Riker look like his dad?”

  “Yeah, he does.”

  “I wish I looked like you. I wish you were my real dad.”

  He slipped his arm around Jason and hugged him close. “I am your real dad, Son.”

  Chapter 23

  It was a little after midnight when Kelley arrived at Jack’s house with an overnight bag for Madison. Earlier in the evening, he’d promised to call her as soon as Madison went to bed, and that had happened a little after eleven. Part of Kelley desperately wanted to speak with her, and part of her was hesitant to push.

  Talk about violating trust. She’d done it exceptionally well.

  She wasn’t surprised that Jack opened the door before she was halfway up the walk. She was certain he’d been waiting for her arrival.

  As soon as she was near enough, he wrapped his hand around her arm and drew her near, then folded her within his embrace, laying his cheek against her head. Of their own accord, her arms wound around him, awkwardly because of the overnight bag she carried, but still they were around him. He was so solid, so warm. She could almost forget that everything wasn’t perfect in her life.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “Not too well.”

  He lowered his head, kissing her sweetly and tenderly, and she briefly wondered if he could taste the salt from the thousand tears she’d wiped away on the drive over.

  “Come on in.” He held the door open and ushered her into the house.

  “Is Madison asleep?”

  “I think so. I haven’t heard a peep out of her since she closeted herself off in my room.”

  “I want to check on her.”

  “Be my guest. I’ll be in the kitchen fixing us something to drink. Coffee or hot chocolate?”

  “Hot chocolate.” She was already too wired. She didn’t need more caffeine. She walked down the hallway. She was surprised to find the door unlocked. Opening it, she peered inside. The only light came in from the night-light in the bathroom, but it was enough for her to see Madison’s form as she lay in bed.

  Kelley crept into the room, set the bag at the foot of the bed so Madison would have it in the morning, and eased up until she could see Madison a little more clearly.

  Wearing what appeared to be a Texans football jersey—probably Jack’s—Madison lay on her back with her hands on the pillows, her fingers curled. She’d slept like that when she was a baby, her hands curled a little more tightly until they formed the tiniest of fists. Kelley had snuck into her room then, too.

  Her mother had stressed how important it was not to confuse the baby, to make sure she realized who her mother would be. In retrospect, Kelley wondered how being shown love by more than one female would have been confusing. She’d been so torn, trying to do what was right for this precious baby she’d brought into the world, trying to please her parents, wanting to be young, feeling so old.

  How had her best intentions gone so awry?

  All she wanted to do was put her arms around Madison and protect her from all the heartache of the world. She’d certainly never planned to be the cause of her heartache.

  Quietly slipping out of the room, she closed the door. She found Jack in the kitchen, one arm crossed over his chest supporting the other as he sipped from his mug, his gaze focused more inward than outward.

  He shifted his attention to her and nodded toward the mug on the counter. Melting marshmallows bobbed on top of the chocolate. For some reason, she found comfort in them.

  Facing him, she pressed her own hips against the counter, assuming a stance similar to his.

  “How was she?” he asked.

  “Asleep. She actually looked peaceful, which is more than I can say for myself.” She studied him a little more closely. “Or for you. You look as bad as I feel.”

  Nodding, he sipped his coffee, his gaze moving away from her.

  Not at
all the reaction she’d expected. Something was drastically wrong, and alarm bells began pealing through her mind. “Jack, what’s wrong?” She groaned. “What a stupid question. Everything is wrong.” She took a tentative step toward him. “But there’s something you’re holding back.”

  “Madison and I were talking earlier. She mentioned that she didn’t think Jason was my son. Neither of us realized he was standing there listening.”

  “Oh, no.” Her heart ached for him, for Jason. For everything she and Madison were putting this family through. “What did you do?”

  He swung his gaze back to her, and she could see the depth of his pain. “What could I do? When he asked if it was true, I had to tell him the truth.”

  “Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve been wrestling with telling him for some time. I thought about waiting to tell him when he was older”—he moved his hand toward the doorway, indicating where Madison was—“but that approach doesn’t seem to work real well.”

  “Still, he’s so young. He must have been devastated.”

  “Yeah, he was pretty upset. I would have preferred handling his learning the truth very differently. But the odd thing is, once I explained things, convinced him that I was still his dad and got him to come back into the house, he and Madison were inseparable until bedtime. He was curled on her lap while she sat in my recliner. They watched TV, talked. Two wounded kids trying to heal, I guess.”

  She released a sigh that made the few remaining unmelted marshmallows in her chocolate bob. “I never meant for all this to happen.”

  “Madison admitted that she was trying to uncover something she could blackmail us with,” he said quietly.

  “And the shoplifting?”

  “I think she was hoping it would wedge us apart. How could you care for someone who keeps arresting her?”

  She wanted to scream. “So, you think she was trying to put me in a position to choose?”

  He nodded. “Me or her.”

  The entire situation seemed hopeless.

  “Do you know what’s really awful, Jack?” She didn’t wait for him to attempt an answer. “Sometimes, in the beginning, after she was born, I wished that I’d given her to strangers. It was so incredibly hard watching her grow up and not being able to tell her that I was her mother.”

  “With your parents’ support, why couldn’t you have raised her and acknowledged her as your daughter?”

  A question she’d asked herself a hundred times in the passing years. “When my parents and I discussed possible solutions to my ‘problem,’ as they referred to it, it was always an absolute giving up claim or nothing. They were so convincing. They wanted total control, convinced me it was in the baby’s best interest. I still had to finish high school and college and find a job. Where was I going to find a young man willing to take on the responsibility of a child?”

  She smiled softly with remembrance. “She was such a sweet baby, Jack. She had such a sweet disposition. Seldom cried. I’d go into her room late at night, when everyone was asleep, and simply look at her. This little marvel that I’d created. I’d start to doubt my decision to let my parents raise her.” She tightened her hold on the mug. “And yet, realistically, I knew I had no choice. Because if I didn’t do it their way, they’d withdraw their support.”

  Tears stung her eyes as she held his gaze. “I know I should have been grateful that they gave me any sort of support at all, but after a while, I despised them for taking her from me. I don’t think they intentionally kept me from her. Sometimes I’d wish for a way to have her back, as my daughter. But I never meant for them to get killed.”

  “Don’t start adding more guilt to what which you already feel. A drunk took them out.”

  “That sounds so military.”

  “Military or not, you had no control over what happened, regardless of what you might think.”

  “My parents and I had a falling out just before they were killed,” she said quietly. “I thought they were letting Madison get away with too much. They were moving into their golden years and not paying much attention to some aspects of her life. I thought I could do a better job of raising her. And here I am doing everything wrong.”

  “Not everything. She’s basically a good kid. She’s just lost sight of that.”

  “As long as I don’t lose sight of it.”

  “You won’t.”

  “You have so much faith in me.”

  “Because I know you.”

  She and Madison had been so close before her parents died. Sisterly close. She’d often had Madison over to her town house. When Madison wanted to host a sleepover with her friends, she’d had the event at Kelley’s because Kelley wasn’t always telling her to keep things quiet. Kelley had loved being there for Madison, but it had been hard as well.

  Being a sister to her daughter, when what she’d really wanted was to be a mother. The passing years had shifted her priorities. Once she’d been afraid of taking on the responsibility of raising a child. Now, she’d give anything to be a mommy.

  “Maybe I’m the one who should paint Gunther’s bathrooms.”

  “It’s not much fun.”

  “You’ve painted them?” she asked.

  “When I was fourteen. He caught me walking off with a Coke.”

  She smiled at that, imagining that he’d probably walked off with a lot more.

  “I want to take her home, Jack.”

  “Tonight?”

  She shook her head. “I mean, I want to take her back to Dallas.”

  “I don’t see that your reasons for leaving Dallas have changed.”

  “They haven’t, but being here isn’t working, either. I ruin everything I touch. You don’t need me in your life.”

  He took a step toward her. “That’s not true.”

  Setting the mug aside, she wrapped her arms around herself. “Prom night, you told me that you loved me, and I didn’t want to hear it, not while I was your teacher. So you turned to Stephanie.”

  “Kelley, that’s the past. You’ve got to let it go.”

  “I understand that, Jack, but I encouraged you to marry her. You wouldn’t have if I hadn’t.”

  “But I got a terrific kid out of that marriage. I don’t regret it.”

  She shook her head. “But because of the way I handled Madison when she was born and for the past eighteen months, we’ve hurt you and your son. I am so tired of hurting people. I don’t deserve you, Jack. And you sure as hell deserve better than me.”

  “I love you, Kelley. We can work things out. Between us. With Madison. With Jason.”

  She moved away from him, needing the distance. “Jason, who wants you to marry Serena? Madison, who wants to keep us apart so she’s breaking the law? Madison, who hates us so much that she’s searching for ways to blackmail us?”

  “The first step, Kelley, is you and me. If what we have is strong enough, we’ll make the rest of it work.”

  “I think you’ve been reading too many romance novels, Jack.”

  She turned for the doorway.

  “If you walk out on me, Kelley, I’m not going to come after you.”

  She looked back over her shoulder. “I always knew you were smart, Jack.”

  Walking out through his front door was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, but she’d caused him enough anguish. She wasn’t willing to cause him any more.

  Chapter 24

  Jack dumped the oats into the boiling water, then turned toward the sink. He was not in the best of moods, having slept off and on, mostly off. Around dawn, he’d finally crawled off the couch, where he’d bedded down after Kelley left.

  Left. Walked out. Thinking she was doing him some sort of favor. Damn it! He didn’t want her damn favors. He wanted her, her heart, her love. He wanted her in his bed when he went to sleep at night, and he wanted her curled against him when he woke up in the morning.

  He turned on the water and placed the plant she’d given him und
er it.

  “I think you’re probably drowning it,” a soft, feminine voice said.

  Turning off the water, he glanced over his shoulder. Madison stood in the doorway, one foot on top of the other. Her hair was its natural golden brown, her face had no makeup on it. She looked young, vulnerable. And sad.

  Did everyone and everything in this house have to be sad?

  “I don’t think it’s going to survive,” Jack said.

  She gave him a winsome smile. “Too much water can be as bad as too little.”

  “So, you think I was so worried about it dying that I killed it?”

  She crossed over to him and took the plant. “I think if you leave it alone for a while, it’ll recover.”

  “So, it’s a little like people?”

  “A little.”

  Smelling the burning oats, he cursed beneath his breath, rushed to the stove, jerked the pan off the flame, and cursed again. The water had boiled away.

  “I’m pretty good at making omelets,” Madison said.

  The little criminal offering to do something shocked him so much that for a minute he didn’t know what to say. Finally, he grinned. “Oh, yeah?”

  She nodded. “I could make us some. Figure I ought to eat something before I go paint Gunther’s bathroom.”

  He walked to the sink and began filling the pot with water, hoping the burned oats would soak away. He’d probably have more luck if he just trashed it. “Don’t worry about Gunther’s today. You can do it another time.”

  “I’d rather do it today. It beats hanging around here with nothing to do but think.”

  “All right.” Bowing slightly, he swept his hand toward the refrigerator. “Have at the omelets.”

  She began to make herself at home around his kitchen.

  “Are you a coffee drinker?” he asked.

  “Tea.”

  “No tea. How about hot chocolate?”

  “With marshmallows?”

  “Is there any other way?”

  She smiled. “I could go for that.”

  While he worked on making the hot chocolate, she was whipping up the omelets, using whatever odds and ends she found in his refrigerator. Leaning against the counter, he watched her.