Gina stared at him for a long moment, then nodded and left.
“Your mom will be right back,” Justin said.
The boy only stared at him and clutched his bear tighter. Justin grabbed his burger and nodded to the boy’s half-eaten food. The kid started munching again, but the bear stayed right on his lap.
A few minutes later, Gina came back to the table. Alone.
“What’s going—” Justin read confusion on her face. “Where’s Zoe?”
“The ladies’ room was empty.” Gina again kept her voice low as she turned away from the boy. “I checked with Ric, he’s working the front door. He didn’t see her leave. I even checked the parking lot. Nothing.”
A sucker punch hit Justin square in the gut, harder than the one delivered less than a half hour earlier when Zoe had walked back into his life.
She left? She walked away from her own son?
He stared at the boy, who kept his eyes glued to his plate.
“I think we should call Gage.”
The mention of Gina’s brother—now his brother-in-law—caused a familiar ripple of unease. At best, he and the sheriff tolerated each other. Usually from a distance.
“We need to search the place.” Justin slid to the end of the booth. “Maybe she just wanted to find a quiet spot to…I don’t know, to think, to pull herself together.”
“Ric and a few others are looking for her.” Gina put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “I’ll call my brother…just in case. You need to stay here.”
Justin nodded.
Gina left again. He eyed the food, but his appetite was gone. His wasn’t the only one. The boy had stopped eating, his gaze glued to the table. Justin knew he should say something, but his mind was a blank.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Gina was back with her brother right on her heels, but she disappeared when Gage started talking.
“So, what’s going on?” Gage said. “Who’s the little guy?”
The boy shrank into the corner of the booth, his eyes locked on the newcomer. Despite being the sheriff of Destiny for the last decade, Gage rarely wore a uniform. Fully recovered from a gunshot wound that had him in the hospital a few months ago and at just over six feet tall, he could be pretty imposing even in jeans, his trademark leather jacket and Stetson.
Justin rose from the booth. His height matched his brother-in-law’s and blocked the boy’s view. “His name is Jacoby Ellis,” he said, keeping his voice low. “And I’m told—not that I’m a hundred-percent sure—he’s my son.”
The widening of Gage’s eyes and the bracketing of his hands on his hips were his only reaction to the news.
Justin fought against mimicking Gage’s body posture and kept his hands loose at his side. “His mother showed up, introduced us and grabbed a bite to eat. The last I knew she was headed to the bathroom.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Twenty minutes. Maybe a little bit more.”
Gage nodded. “The mother’s name?”
“Zoe Ellis.”
Gina reappeared at her brother’s shoulder. “Racy’s here. She suggested we go to her office. It’s more private and this place is filling up with customers.”
Justin nodded and turned around, but Gina was already there. She grabbed Jacoby’s pillowcase and got him out of the booth. Justin and Gage followed. Racy’s golden retriever greeted them when they opened the office door.
“Oh, it’s okay.” Gina squatted next to the boy when he shrank back, bumping into Justin’s legs. “This is Jack and he’s the sweetest pup. Here, let him smell your hand.”
Jacoby stretched out his fingers. Jack proceeded to sniff them, then immediately moved in to offer a few quick licks to the boy’s face.
Justin reached for the dog’s collar, but stopped when the sound of the child’s laughter filled the air.
Followed by a gasp from Justin’s sister.
He looked up to see Racy’s gaze flying between him and Jacoby. “Sis, what’s wrong?”
Racy turned toward her desk and rummaged in one of the drawers. Justin and Gage went to her, while Gina settled the boy and the dog on the leather couch against the far wall.
“Honey, what are you looking for?” Gage asked.
Racy pulled out a manila envelope from the last drawer. “This,” she said, dumping the contents on her desk.
Photographs, black-and-white and colored, likely decades old, scalloped edges on some and rounded corners on others. She flipped through the images until she pulled out a small one.
“Thank goodness I had these stored here instead of at the house. They would’ve been lost in the fire. Here’s your proof.”
“Proof?” Justin asked.
“Gina told me about your surprise visitor and that precious little boy.” Her gaze lingered on the occupants on the couch. “As soon as you all walked in the door, I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“Look at this picture.” She shoved the photograph into his hands. “That’s you. First grade.”
It was him. But it was also Jacoby. The image could’ve been of the same person. The dark hair and eyes, the square line of the jaw even at such a young age. They even wore the same colored T-shirt, red.
“Maybe you better fill us in completely,” Gage said, taking out a small notebook. “If his mother has taken off, we’ll need everything you know to try and find her.”
“I think I’ll head out now.”
Justin turned to see Gina at the door. The boy was reading a book he must’ve pulled from his pillowcase. One hand turned the pages; the other was busy scratching the neck of a very content Jack.
“No, stay.”
Gina’s elegant brows rose at his tone.
“Please,” Justin quickly added. “The kid seems—he seems at ease with you.”
Her fingers tightened on the doorknob and Justin thought she was going to leave anyway. But she gave him a quick nod and moved back to the couch.
Justin turned back to the sheriff and his sister. They both stared at him. He ignored the unspoken questions in their gazes and told them what had happened in the last hour. Then he described how he had met Zoe eight years ago.
“I didn’t believe her at first. Maybe I didn’t want to. Hell…me? A father?” Justin winced and waved the photograph in the air. “But seeing this…”
“Okay, let’s see if the boy can help us out,” Gage said.
He couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.
After answering a few questions that revealed the name of his elementary school, a town in Colorado and that his mom’s car was tan and a piece of junk, Jacoby clammed up, refusing to answer any more.
“It’s not much, but I’ll start with finding out exactly where Templeton, Colorado, is.” Gage rose from where he’d knelt by the couch. He motioned for Justin and Racy to join him back at Racy’s desk. “I’m heading to the office to make an official report. Now, what are we going to do with this little guy tonight? Or the next couple of nights? It’ll probably take until Monday or Tuesday before we get anywhere.”
“Why can’t he stay with Justin?” Gina asked from across the room.
Justin turned, her question yet another sucker punch to his gut. At this rate, his insides would be black and blue. “Are you serious?”
“You are his father.”
“We don’t know that—”
Both Gage and Justin spoke at the same time.
“—officially,” Gage finished. When Gina opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand to cut her off. “Yes, I agree all the signs point in that direction, but until a test can be done we don’t know for sure. I can place a call to child services. They can find a local foster home.”
The sheriff’s words caused the pain sitting square in Justin’s gut to radiate throughout his body.
The entire room faded as the memory of his father yelling, words slurred thanks to the alcohol running through his veins, took over. He’d often threaten him, Billy Joe and Racy with horror stories
of being shipped off to child services. At the time, the unknown hell he’d described sounded a lot worse than the hell they were living.
“Justin?”
Racy’s voice pulled him from the memory, in time to see the door close behind Gina. She must think he was actually going to—
He turned back to his sister and Gage when he felt a small hand, clammy and cold, against his own. He looked down. Jacoby stood next to him, squeezing his fingers, and those dark eyes stared up at him.
“He’s coming home with me,” Justin said.
The boy didn’t speak or smile, but the haunted look that filled his eyes when they had tried to get information about his mother from him faded.
“You sure?” Gage asked. “What kind of condition is the cabin in?”
“It’s a mess but livable. I’ve been staying there for the last couple of weeks.”
“Having a little boy around is totally different from being there alone,” Racy added. “Do you have enough food? What about heat? It still gets pretty chilly at night. We’ve got room at our place—”
“We’ll be fine,” Justin insisted. “The fireplace is working. And I can’t believe you’re really asking me—the best cook you’ve got—if I’ve got enough food.”
Racy smiled at that. “Okay, you’ve got me there. Gage told me you got those antique kitchen appliances working again, but—”
“No buts.” He hoped the confidence in his voice sounded real, because the words rang hollow as they rolled off his tongue. “We’ll be fine.”
An hour later, he wasn’t so sure.
He’d finished loading his truck with Gage’s help, then he and Jacoby headed out. Seeing his place through the eyes of a child who stood in the doorway clutching his meager belongings made him realize the cabin was more a construction zone-slash-bachelor pad than a home.
It had grown dark on the ride out to the lake and the only lights in the cabin were in the kitchen, the bath and one second hand lamp sitting on the floor in the living room. He’d turned on the lamp, and a fire helped warm up the place, both in temperature and looks.
He didn’t say much to Jacoby except to repeatedly warn him away from the tools and construction materials that seemed to fascinate the boy. Of course, the kid hadn’t said two words since he’d hugged Racy’s dog goodbye at The Blue Creek.
“I’ve got to get some stuff out of the truck.” Justin stood near the open door, the dark night an alluring draw. “Just sit there until I’m done and don’t touch anything, okay?”
Jacoby looked at the folding chair that sat inches off the floor. He dropped into it, pulling his pillowcase to his feet and tucking his bear into his lap. The bag, torn and dirty, was definitely on its last leg.
Justin could relate.
What in the hell was he doing? He didn’t have any experience with kids other than being one himself. Agreeing to bring Jacoby home had been instinct, born out of his hellish childhood memories. He was flying blind here, praying he was doing the right thing.
Whatever that might be.
He stepped outside, leaving the oak-planked door open, glad for the screen door he’d installed just yesterday. The overhead lamp automatically came on, lighting up the porch that ran the length of the cabin. The night air had a bracing chill, and he inhaled deeply as he stepped onto the dirt driveway. There was still a load of wood to get out of the back of the truck, but at the moment, he just gazed up at the stars.
This morning, his biggest worry was deciding which of the bedrooms in the cabin to tackle next. This afternoon, it had been reaffirming his vow to stay far away from Gina, knowing he was the wrong guy for her despite how great it felt to have her in his arms again.
And now? Now he might be a father.
A crashing noise had Justin racing back inside. Jacoby stood at the kitchen sink, an overturned wooden crate next to him and a plastic cup on the floor.
“I was thirsty,” he said.
Surprised that the boy had finally spoken, Justin pulled in a deep breath and commanded his heart to stop its wild pounding in his chest. It wasn’t listening.
He grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and plopped down on the overturned crate. “Here.”
The boy didn’t move.
“It’s okay. You can have it.”
“I won’t finish all that.”
Justin unscrewed the lid and offered it again. “No worries. We can put the top back on.”
The boy took the bottle and drank. It was then Justin noticed the photograph clutched in his hand. “What’s that?”
His small fist, and the photo, disappeared behind his back.
“I’m not going to take it. I’m just wondering who’s…” Justin’s voice faded.
Could that image be a clue to finding Zoe? He reached into his T-shirt pocket and pulled out the photograph he’d tucked there, behind Jacoby’s birth certificate. He showed it to the boy. “See this?”
Curiosity had the boy leaning forward. “It’s me.”
Justin’s gut tightened, a reflex against the emotional punches he’d been taking all night. “No, actually that’s me. Back when I was your age.”
Jacoby slowly pulled the picture out and turned it around. “This is you, too.”
Creased down the middle, the fold split the image of a couple sitting arm in arm on a beat-up sofa. They held beers in their hands and goofy smiles on their faces. Him and Zoe. It must’ve been taken the night they met.
And the hits kept coming.
Justin swallowed hard before he spoke. “Did your mom give you that?”
The boy nodded. “She said it’s her and my daddy. She said my daddy had gone away for a long time, but soon I’d go and live with him and he’d take care of me ’cause she can’t anymore.”
There it was.
The final blow. A solid right hook that sent him to the mat. Thank goodness he was already sitting because he doubted his knees would’ve held him upright.
She’d planned this.
Zoe had come to town purposely to leave her son with him.
That meant even if by some strange twist, he wasn’t the kid’s father, he was still left holding the bag. One that was every bit as precious as the one Jacoby dragged along behind him.
Chapter Three
“I don’t know about this. It might not be a good idea.”
Gina looked at Jack. The golden retriever sat on his haunches in the passenger seat, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, panting in anticipation.
“I’ve been overflowing with less-than-stellar ideas lately. Just look at my hair. Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”
Jack barked once and she took it as an affirmative.
Her car crawled over the dirt road, the beam from the headlights bouncing off the thick forest of trees. She glanced at the clock. Almost eight. She still had over an hour before she was supposed to meet Barbie and her friends in Laramie.
“Then again, I’m sure everything we’re bringing is needed.” She glanced at the list resting in the cup holder. “Yes, this is a good idea, a great idea. I can do this. I’ll just drop the stuff off, make sure they’re okay and leave. How’s that sound?”
Jack leaned forward and licked her ear. Another yes.
She pulled up next to Justin’s battered pickup and cut the engine. She hadn’t been out here since last fall when Gage had shown the family around his newly purchased land. Her older brother had wanted this old camp ever since he’d bought the ten acres on the other side of the lake where he’d built the log home he and Racy now lived in.
With the help of the full moon and clear skies, she could make out a few of the eight cabins that dotted the shore on this side of the lake, one of the largest right in front of her. Justin’s cabin.
She waited, but when no one stepped outside, she shoved the list into her pocket, grabbed the laundry basket from the backseat and headed for the front porch. Jack led the way.
The smell of freshly cut wood mixed with the pungent scent
from the pine trees that surrounded the house. A light shone on newly built porch planks that stretched the length of the cabin.
Even as her breath puffed before her face in chilled air, she could easily picture a pillow-laden swing hanging from overhead chains at the far end of the porch, facing the water. A perfect spot to enjoy a cool glass of lemonade on a hot summer evening while listening to the lake and the woods…
“Oh, stop daydreaming,” she muttered and turned back, giving the screen door a quick knock while managing to hold on to the heavy basket. Nothing.
She leaned closer and peered inside through the mesh. There, in the kitchen. Justin sat on a crate with his back to her while the little boy, barely visible beyond Justin’s wide shoulders, stood directly in front of him.
Should she interrupt? Maybe she should leave the basket—
No. She’d decided it was important enough to pull these things together and get them here. Tonight. Add the touch of guilt she’d felt because she’d actually thought Justin was going to let that sweet little boy go off with strangers…
Okay, deep breath.
She knocked harder and this time Jack added a deep woof.
Justin spun around, his dark piercing eyes fixed on her. A ripple moved across her lower stomach, momentarily taking her breath away. It was a familiar visceral response to this man she still hadn’t gotten used to. It’d happened the first time she’d ever laid eyes on him, that afternoon in Racy’s office back in January, and every time he’d looked at her since.
Because he didn’t just look at her. No, his gaze locked with hers, like a radar beam on a target. And she was always the one who looked away first.
Except for the night he’d been battered and hurt. That night it’d been Justin who couldn’t hold her gaze as he sat on the opposite side of the room while she crawled beneath his sheets—
She scrubbed the memory from her mind, but noted that same intuitive feeling had taken root low in her belly earlier today when he’d held her in his arms in the storeroom. She hadn’t fallen on purpose, no matter what he thought. And once she was in his arms, her femme fatale plan to get him to pay attention to her had gone up in smoke the moment his dark eyes latched on to her.
A Daddy for Jacoby Page 3