Ladd Haven

by Dianne Venetta

At the sound of her name on his lips, her heart exploded. His voice was soft, supple, the same way he spoke to her that night, the night he promised he’d change and they’d be together forever. Casey turned, unable to hide her body a second longer. Guilt feathered through her body, petered through her limbs. “Troy.”

  It was barely a squeak but no more was necessary. His gaze dropped to her mid-section and he blanched. Barely controlled civility became total shock. Troy smacked her with a direct gaze. “You’re pregnant?”

  Chapter Five

  “Yes,” Casey stammered. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  The party dissolved into a sea of nothingness. The smell of food disappeared from his senses, the music extinguished. Troy couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He searched Casey’s face for explanation. She seemed so angry, so mad. “Is it mine?” he asked before he could stop himself.

  “No”—she thwacked Jimmy on the arm—“it’s his.”

  Troy’s gaze sprang to Jimmy. The guy looked like a deer catching whiff of a trigger pull.

  Jimmy swallowed, his boy Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Yep. That’s right.” He slanted a gaze down to Casey and slid an arm around her shoulders. “The baby’s mine.”

  Son of a bitch. Troy wanted to scratch his face off, wanted to pound him into the ground, kick him in his teeth. He glanced to Casey, stunned by the pathetic look of fear on her face. What the hell was she afraid of? He’s the one standing in the middle of the picnic like a fool!

  The party came back to life around him, people carrying on like nothing ever happened. But it did. Everything happened. Troy whirled and headed for his truck, bombarded by shock and anger. He finally understood why everyone had been acting so strange. They knew. They knew his girlfriend was pregnant with another man’s child.

  Hurt fired through his veins, punctured him to the core. There was no chance for them now. There was no way she’d come back to him with Jimmy’s baby. There would never be a Troy and Casey again.

  He didn’t want her back. He didn’t want any part of her. Jerking the door to his truck open, he tore the hat from his head and threw it inside. Jumping in, he slammed the door closed. He clutched his head, emotions imploding inside him. How could she? How could she have done it so quick and with him? By the size of her belly she hadn’t wasted any time—like Troy had been nothing to her. Tears filled his eyes, blurred his vision. Images punctured his soul.

  Casey slept with Jimmy. She was having his baby. Troy tried to shut out thoughts of them, but festivities surrounded him, penetrated his vehicle. It was a mistake to have come here. Casey was pregnant. He couldn’t ignore the facts. Casey had moved on and slept with Jimmy Sweeney. Troy slammed a fist to the console sending car keys rattling to the floor. Despair closed in around him. Heartache wound deep. He whacked a hand to the dashboard.

  Everything he believed to be true was a lie—a dad gum lie! Wrapping his throbbing palm around the steering wheel, Troy dropped his forehead and closed his eyes. All those months in Kentucky spent pining for her had been a waste. A stupid, idiotic waste. Casey had been with Jimmy. She had moved on and left him behind. What a fool he had been.

  Casey watched in horror as Troy stalked off. What had she done telling him the baby was Jimmy’s? Was she insane?

  “Oh, brother,” Jimmy muttered beside her, dropping his arm.

  Casey began to tremble. She didn’t dare look at Jimmy. She couldn’t look him in the eye after what she’d done. Her mother appeared by her side in seconds. With an arm to her back Annie asked gingerly, “Casey, are you okay? What happened with Troy?”

  Glancing in the direction of parked cars, she murmured, “He left.”

  Annie followed her gaze. “Is everything okay? He didn’t look too happy.”

  “Casey told him the baby was mine,” Jimmy informed her.

  “What?”

  Casey closed her eyes. She hugged her arms to her body. Way to go, Jimmy. Bring my mom into it. Great way to make everything worse.

  Annie began to unravel. “I thought we discussed this, I thought we agreed it was best to tell him sooner rather than later! Telling him a lie is only going to make it worse when he learns the truth. It’s not fair to let him believe something like that, not to Jimmy either.”

  Casey opened her eyes, “Ask him why he told Troy he was my boyfriend.”

  Jimmy remained mute, avoided her mother’s questioning gaze.

  Ashley Fulmer strolled up, a rhinestone flag emblem on her T-shirt glittering in the sunlight, competing with dangling firecracker earrings. “Darlin’?” she asked, turning to Casey’s mom as though the answers could be found with her. “Everything all right?”

  “She told Troy the baby was Jimmy’s.”

  “Do you think that was wise?” Ashley peered at Casey, blue eyes echoing the sentiment of her mother. Obviously they didn’t approve. Looking between the women, Casey gave herself a quick shot of self-preservation, ejecting their concern.

  What was she supposed to do? Tell him it was his so he could ditch her again? This was her decision. She decided when and if he knew the truth. “Troy doesn’t need to know,” Casey insisted. “He’ll just leave again so it’s better he doesn’t know in the first place.”

  Annie and Ashley stilled. They exchanged a look, then glanced to Jimmy, to her, then back to one another. Neither said a word, probably afraid she might do something stupid, like take drugs because she couldn’t handle a difficult situation. Casey glanced in the direction of Troy’s departure. But she wouldn’t. Longing filled her as she recalled the tortured look in his eyes. This had hurt him. More than believing she and Jimmy were dating, this had been the final blow. It was a bad situation but they were wrong about one thing. Casey would never harm her child. Their child. This baby meant more than anything in the world.

  Retreating to the solitude of the front porch, Casey deposited herself into a rocking chair. Staring out over the lawn, she located the spot where she’d seen Troy’s truck earlier and parked her gaze there. No one had claimed the empty space. Probably because no one expected anyone to leave this early. No one in their right mind left Ashley’s party before sundown. Then again, Troy wasn’t in his right mind. He was in a poor state of mind, a false state of mind. Encircling her pregnant belly, Casey cursed herself for telling him the lie. It was stupid. Her mother and Miss Ashley were right. It was dumb, the dumbest thing she ever did. Of course he would find out the baby was his. It was a small town. Small towns talked. Some folks might think it was Jimmy’s, seeing as how the two of them spent so much time together, but not anyone who knew her personally. Anyone who knew her knew the truth.

  Pushing a toe to the porch floor, she rocked the chair back and forth, back and forth, running idle hands up and over her stomach. Was she wrong? If she told Troy the truth and he left her, what would that do to her baby? Wouldn’t it make her feel like a loser knowing her daddy had abandoned her? Casey grew up without a father and even though her mom said it was a mutual decision, she always sensed it wasn’t. She always harbored a feeling of abandonment. Turned out she was right. Worse, turned out her father should have stayed gone. Then she wouldn’t have had to learn what a loser he really was, up close and personal. Narrowing her gaze on the vacant spot of grass, she tried to wall her mind from the party sounds, from thoughts of Jeremiah Ladd’s face. His ugly face. His mean face. But she could see it as clear as if the man were standing before her.

  She remembered the day he came over to the table where she and Troy had been sitting together at Fran’s, his face beaten and bruised. He was looking for his girlfriend, wanted to know where she was. Fresh resentment swathed Casey’s heart. He was asking Troy, because Troy had been flirting with her, something he claimed to be doing on her behalf. Visions of the sleazy blonde woman and Troy pushed in but Casey shoved them aside. Then there was the brown-skinned developer woman who tried to cozy up to Troy at Whiskey Joe’s. The same woman who tried to buy Casey’s half of Ladd Springs so she could destroy it. Casey
’s eyes glazed over on the patch of green. There was no room for memories of other women.

  Mired in thoughts of the past, of her father, of how Jeremiah and Troy had sparred, two macho egos fighting for control, Casey recalled how her father left without saying a word to her. No “How are you?” “Are you supposed to be my kid?” Not so much as a hello. Jeremiah Ladd totally ignored her—other than staring at her like she was some kind of science experiment turned mutation. He’d totally dissed her.

  Suddenly realizing she was clenching her dress, Casey let go Jeremiah Ladd. He wasn’t worth her time or thought. Hauling her eyes away from the vacated parking spot she looked in the opposite direction. Trees in the distance, the layered green mountain range, were so familiar, tears filled her lids. But hatred coiled around her heart, her legs, squeezed her arms her shoulders, threatened to choke the very life from her. Casey hated that man. Hated Jeremiah Ladd with every cell in her body.

  “Casey?”

  The gentle voice cut like a knife. Casey turned to see Felicity Wilkins standing three feet away. Like everyone else at the party, her attire consisted of red, white and blue. In her case it was a red and white striped sleeveless top and blue denim skirt. Strawberry blonde hair was braided in twin ponytails and hung past her shoulders. Green eyes were soaked in pity. How long had she been there?

  Shifting in her seat, Casey acknowledged her. “Hey.”

  “Want company?”

  Not really, but to say no would only make Felicity run tell the others what a sad state of affairs her cousin was in and then everyone would be out here. “Sure.”

  Felicity walked around her outstretched legs and took a seat in the opposite rocker. She crossed booted legs and settled in.

  Casey pushed back and forth, like she was just hanging out, relaxing. “Too noisy out back,” she replied.

  Felicity nodded but Casey knew she didn’t believe a word of it. “How’d it go with Troy?”

  Right to the point. Did she expect any less? Casey heaved a sigh, the moisture of her breath warm against the skin at her breast. Even sitting in the shade and wearing a flimsy cotton dress the day was still hot. “Not good.”

  “I hear you told him the baby is Jimmy’s.”

  “I did.”

  “How come?”

  No complaint, no blame, no disapproval, Felicity merely asked the question. Casey appreciated the lack of criticism. It was nice to have someone simply let things be for a change. “I don’t want him to think it’s his because he’s only going to leave again and then what?”

  Felicity nodded. “I hear ya.” No attempt to persuade or defend, she simply let it go.

  Casey was glad for Felicity’s friendship. Over the last six months, the two had grown closer and it made the pregnancy easier to deal with, knowing she could share it with someone who cared about both parties. Delaney had encouraged their relationship, actually insisted they were family and family should be close. It wasn’t like they didn’t know each other from school, but now that paternity had been proven and she owned half of Ladd Springs, Casey felt a whole new appreciation for Felicity. After the initial awkwardness, the two had come to talk like friends, discussing whatever was on their minds without worrying what the other would think. Felicity never mentioned Troy, didn’t harp on college like she had over Thanksgiving. She seemed content to let Casey be who she was.

  Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Casey was taking a few classes at the community college, but she believed it was due to changes in Felicity. She wasn’t nearly as innocent and naïve as she used to be but instead felt more open, objective. It was like her professors had peeled back the layers of home, exposing Felicity to the real world. Casey’s mom said Felicity was maturing, expanding her horizons, coming into her own. Maybe. Sliding her hands in a wide arc over her belly, Casey thought it ran deeper, as if her cousin was taking a new look at her life now that she’d seen it from afar.

  “Are you ever going to tell him?”

  There was no reproach in her voice, only sincere interest. “Do you think I should?” Casey asked.

  Felicity shrugged. “I don’t know. I hear what you’re saying about him leaving.”

  “He’s done if before, why wouldn’t he do it again, right?”

  “Right. I mean, Troy’s a great guy and I love him to death but he’s made mistakes.”

  “Yes,” Casey agreed, staring at Felicity, struck by the sadness in her voice.

  “Good guys make mistakes but can they recover?” Felicity asked. “That’s the question.”

  Casey nodded, a funny sensation slipping in.

  “Maybe Troy would stay and do right by you if he knew how important it was to you and the baby.”

  “Maybe.”

  “But the fact is”—Felicity turned away—“some dads don’t.”

  Gripped by an urgent curiosity, Casey asked, “Did you miss your daddy when you were growing up?” Startled by the question spurting from her lips, she was suddenly intrigued to hear the answer. Had Felicity ever thought of her father? Did she care that he didn’t call, wasn’t present? Casey had met him once. She was sitting at Fran’s Diner with Delaney and he showed up, asking questions about Felicity. He seemed normal enough, came from a decent family. Technically he was her uncle, now that her mom was married to Cal Foster. What did Felicity think of him?

  Glancing sideways, Felicity’s eyes became fluid with emotion, as though her entire childhood was swimming in her vision. “Yes. I did. A lot at first but then I got over it.”

  It was a simple answer to a complicated situation. Delaney’s mom divorced him and never looked back. According to her mom, the two never should have gotten married. Jack Foster was wild and crazy and Delaney was not. She was brazen and tough but not rowdy the way Jack had always been. After the divorce, Felicity’s dad moved to Nashville. For years he was gone until he showed up recently over Thanksgiving. It must have been strange for Felicity. Casting her gaze back out over the mass of cars and trucks, Casey wondered which was worse—knowing and having contact with a father who was a jerk or living with the knowledge he might be an okay guy who didn’t want you?

  Lowering her gaze to the stretch of fabric over her stomach, Casey realized it was a question she was going to have to ask on behalf of her own daughter.

  Chapter Six

  Seated at the lunch counter at Fran’s Diner, elbows propped on the counter, Felicity read from a paperback novel. Three thirty, there was hardly anyone around, the bulk of the lunch crowd cleared out and the early bird diners not expected until four. It suited her fine. Fran Jones welcomed her to hang out, served up a plate of burger and fries too. Dining alone gave Felicity quiet time to read while she waited for Travis to finish with his dad. They were fixing the screen around the patio of their home, a job she wasn’t invited to help with nor did she care. She was content to read.

  Her current book was a book about a family in crisis. The father was an over-achiever, the mother an alcoholic; a young son lived in their shadow with his own set of problems at school. Written in three points of view, it was one of those stories that wrenched your heart from the inside out. It made Felicity feel like no one was right, no one was wrong, but everyone was lost in a confusing mess. Slapping the open-faced book down, she reached for her coke and sucked in a mouthful of sweet carbonated soda. It was ridiculous the dysfunction that went on in a family. Why couldn’t people work together? Help each other out like a team?

  “Looks like some pretty heavy reading.”

  “Oh!” Felicity spit liquid onto her hand. Turning, she wiped the soda away as she came face-to-face with her father, Jack Foster. His dark gaze shot to her book and a smile crossed his lips. She flashed a glance to the obvious title. When Families Hurt. “I’m reading it for school,” she blurted. “It’s a psychology class.”

  “They make you read over summer break?”

  “Yeah.” She tried to shrug it off. “Go figure.” Flipping the book closed with one hand, she set it
cover-side down. “I guess professors don’t believe in taking breaks.”

  He laughed, the sound easy and warm and nothing like the selfish man her mother described. “I remember those days well,” he said. “Their whole life was about drilling work into their students.” Friendly eyes crinkled within his sun-tanned skin, the white of his shirt contrasting sharply and somehow making him look younger than his forty-plus years. Up close, his brown eyes danced as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Squared jaw, strong nose, her father’s complexion was shades darker than her own. Felicity found it odd that she didn’t resemble him. Granted his skin was browned from his time spent outdoors, but even in the dead of winter she could tell his skin would be shades darker than her own. Her mom was blonde with a medium complexion. Maybe it was true what her mother always said. She claimed Felicity favored the Ladd side of the family, red-tinged hair and freckles to boot. But still, she mused, peering at the stranger who was her father. It was weird how different he could look from her.

  “I hear you’re doing amazing things with your flute.”

  Lifting her shoulders, she replied, “I don’t know about amazing. I play...” Felicity pressed her side against the counter, wondering who would have told him about her flute. No one knew anything about her music who would have said the first word to Jack Foster.

  “Don’t sell yourself short, kid. It’s a tough world out there with far too many people ready and willing to take you down.” She nodded, imagining him as a young man enjoying his college days, replaced by more recent thoughts of him telling her to pay her own way through school, build some character. He gestured like he was going to tap her arm, but didn’t and said, “Stand up for yourself. You deserve it.”

  Felicity caught sight of Fran Jone’s net-covered red-head of hair through the kitchen service window and groaned inwardly. Great. She’d be hearing about this encounter later on.