My Child, Our Child (Silhouette Special Edition)

by Hagan, Patricia

  By the time she had walked up and down the rows, she was hot enough to have to take off her down vest. Hank was working in a T-shirt, sweat on his brow. She asked him where Sam was. “He’s usually the first one at work.”

  “Beats me,” Hank said with a shrug. “He said he had some things to do that might take most of the morning. Maybe longer. Must have been important, though I didn’t ask. I never ask. Sam’s pretty closemouthed about his business, especially since his wife left. He don’t have much to say to nobody, but at least he didn’t turn retarded like his boy.”

  Jackie bit back the angry impulse to tell him Brian had not turned retarded for heaven’s sake. She did not want to alienate him. She wanted to hear as much as he was willing to tell.

  Positioning herself on the other side of the dirt-filled trays, she began to make holes for the seeds. “I guess that was pretty awful.”

  “Yeah. But not because he cared anything about her, mind you. It was the boy. Brian was torn all to pieces. I mean, when you think about her walking out on him in the middle of the night.” He shook his head to think.

  Jackie was aghast and begged him to tell her everything. Hank liked to talk and was eager to describe that fateful night when Brian wound up making his way through the woods to find his father after his mother deserted him.

  As Jackie listened, she worked furiously, blinking back tears to think of how awful it must have been for him.

  Hank said Sam wasn’t all that surprised. “I think he knew she’d take off sooner or later. It just threw him that she could abandon the boy.”

  Jackie worked even harder, planting twice as many seeds as Hank did. Then he noticed and said, “Hey, you’re puttin’ ’em too deep. They’ll never sprout.”

  She apologized and, embarrassed, started over. Hank finished his section and looked at his watch. “It’s ten o’clock, and Bonnie is never late, so I’d say right about now—”

  The door to the hothouse opened, and Bonnie walked in with a thermos of coffee and a bag of brownies and chocolate chip cookies still warm from the oven.

  “I knew it,” he said with a grin, hugging her before taking the goodies she’d brought.

  Then Jackie saw Brian, coming right behind Bonnie. He walked right over to her and climbed up on the empty stool beside her.

  “Well, would you look at that?” Bonnie cried. “He won’t have anything to do with me, but he sure has taken a shine to you.”

  Jackie gave him a hug. He did not respond, merely sat there woodenly, watching her with big, sad eyes. She offered him a brownie, but he continued to stare, not bothering to even shake his head to decline.

  “Sometimes I wonder if he can hear,” Hank mused as he munched on a cookie. “He doesn’t act like he knows a thing that’s said to him.”

  “Oh, he knows, all right,” Bonnie said. “He’s just stubborn, that’s all. But I agree with Mrs. Colton that he needs to be sent off to one of those schools for his kind. It’s not good for him not to be around other kids, and he can’t start school next year the way he is now. Sam is going to have to do it, whether he wants to or not.” She punctuated with a loud sigh.

  Jackie was not going to waste time arguing with them. But she was going to raise the subject with Sam again.

  Then she remembered the pie. “Did he like it?” she asked Bonnie.

  “I guess so. Looks like he ate two pieces last night. He didn’t say anything about it this morning.” She pursed her lips and thought about it. “In fact, he was acting kind of funny. He was on the phone in his office when I got there, and he talked to somebody a long time. Then when he came out he said he had to go somewhere and took off.”

  “Yeah. He wouldn’t even tell me,” Hank said.

  When they had finished their coffee, Bonnie told Brian it was time for them to go back to the house.

  He sat right where he was, watching Jackie as she went back to planting seeds, and made no move to get down off the stool.

  Bonnie raised her voice a bit. “Brian, I said let’s go.”

  Brian ignored her.

  “Maybe you’d better go with her,” Jackie leaned to say to him when she saw Bonnie was getting angry. “She might not let you come out here with her next time.”

  At that he got down off the stool.

  “See?” Jackie looked from Bonnie to Hank proudly. “There’s nothing wrong with his hearing. He just didn’t want to go, that’s all.”

  Bonnie pushed him gently out the door, then turned to say, “Well, he’s sure taken a shine to you. It’s a shame Sam don’t want him having anything to do with you.”

  “He told you that?” Jackie asked, stunned.

  “He sure did. He said he didn’t want him to be upset when you leave.”

  “And he’s sure I will,” Jackie said testily.

  Bonnie shrugged. “Well, you’re a flatlander, like Donna was. I guess he thinks—”

  “I guess,” Jackie cut her off, unable to contain her annoyance any longer, “that Sam Colton thinks he knows everything.”

  Bonnie and Hank exchanged looks Jackie did not see. Her head was bent over her work, hands trembling.

  “Well, see you at lunch,” Bonnie said, leaving.

  “Brownies and cookies are enough for me,” Jackie said tightly. She was not about to go back to the house for lunch, not after Sam had so rudely left without taking time to drop by the hothouse to say thanks for the pie. He was an ungrateful clod, and he was also insensitive to his son’s needs. There was nothing wrong with Brian wanting to be with her, even if she were to leave one day.

  The day wore on. Hank went for lunch, then returned. They made small talk about things that had to do with the farm. She asked him questions about the trees, wanting to learn as much as possible. After all, it looked as though it would be in her best interest to branch off from Sam and run her own business.

  So what if they would be in competition with each other? She had read that the wholesale sales of the North Carolina tree industry the year before had topped a hundred million dollars. After all, the state produced over 15 percent of all the real Christmas trees in the United States. And Fraser firs represented over 90 percent of all species grown in the state. She had plenty on her land. She would do fine. All she had to do was learn the ins and outs, and then she would not need Sam Colton, by golly. Maybe she would even plant trees across the road in front to cut him off from her land.

  And fences. She would have lots of fences. She would let him know what was hers. She’d have a new survey done, too, and—

  “You’re diggin’ too deep again, Jackie.”

  She threw down the scoop. “Maybe I’d better call it a day.”

  “Just as I thought,” Sam boomed as he opened the door in time to hear Jackie. “I turn my back and everybody wants to quit for the day.”

  Jackie could not resist saying, “Seems to me you haven’t even started.”

  “That’s what you think.” He glanced about at the seed beds they had completed and nodded with satisfaction. “I have to say you all got a lot done. We’ll take the next couple of days off, then next week we’ll do some shearing on the trees that will be ready to harvest next year.

  “And you’re right,” he said to Jackie. “It is time to call it a day. By the way, thanks for the pie.”

  He walked on out, and she felt like scooping up a handful of dirt from the seedbed and throwing it at him. She had worked hard on the pie. The crust had been one of her best, just the right amount of butter to make it flaky yet tender. But he acted like it was no big deal. Then she decided she was probably overreacting. What did she expect, anyway? That he would come rushing in and give her a hug and a kiss?

  It would have been nice, though, wouldn’t it? a little voice within teased.

  She grimaced against it and pulled her sweater over her head. When Sam had opened the door she had felt the frigid temperature, so it was time to start layering her clothing again before plunging out in it.

  “See you in a couple
of days, Hank,” she called on her way out. “Actually, I’m glad we aren’t working. I’ve got to round up some firewood.”

  He was spreading plastic over the beds they had just seeded for additional warmth and humidity. “Hey, why didn’t you say something earlier? I’ll call Seth Barwick when I get up to the house and tell him you need a load first thing tomorrow. Will half a cord do it?”

  “Wait and let me see how much I can afford. I might find some stacked in one of the outbuildings. I sure hope so, because I still think we’re going to get snow soon, even if Sam can’t smell it.”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised. Just make sure you’ve got a lot of groceries. Water, too, in case your pipes freeze.”

  “I’ll be fine, Hank. Actually, I’m looking forward to it. I’ve got enough fixing for hot chocolate and marshmallows to last till spring.”

  “Hey, great,” he said and laughed. “If Bonnie runs out, I’ll put on my cross-country skis and pay you a visit.”

  Jackie’s eyes went wide at the sight of firewood stacked neatly at the side of the house. It was a cord, at least.

  It could only have been Sam’s doing. He had taken it upon himself to have it delivered.

  But no.

  She came to an abrupt halt on her way inside. A brand-new ax was propped against the chopping block. Had Sam chopped the wood himself?

  Shivering against the cold, she hurried inside. Then, on a hunch, went to the kitchen corner and opened the cabinet under the sink.

  It was bone dry.

  He had fixed the leak.

  She felt like dancing, and, actually did so, whirling around and around, hugging herself with delight to think that Sam Colton, despite all his gruffness, was really a nice guy.

  Then she saw the note she had missed before, propped on the table between the salt and pepper shakers.

  Snatching it up, she read:

  The pie made me happy, so I thought I’d pass on a few happies of my own to say thanks. So now we’re even.

  By the way, the phone company will start running lines next week... if it doesn’t snow.

  Sam

  She stared at the note for a long, long time, and though she was grateful for what he had done, one line kept leaping out at her.

  So now we’re even.

  Was that all it meant to him to chop her wood, fix her faucet and pull some strings to get her phone line put in? A payback for a pecan pie? That wasn’t the way “happies” were meant to be at all. They were given as an expression of joy given and received but never an obligation.

  But Sam, she feared, was just too soured on life to see it that way.

  Dawn was gray, like whispery fingers clawing to find sunshine, but none was to be found.

  Jackie stepped onto the front porch, pulling her wool bathrobe around her and thought maybe she smelled snow...not that she was sure what it smelled like. But something was in the air—fresh, biting, pungent. And the clouds were the color of gunmetal, strong and foreboding.

  She checked the temperature. Thirty-one degrees. Perfect for the white stuff, all right.

  After putting on jeans and jacket, she brought in several armloads of wood to stack near the stove. Remembering that she’d seen a tarpaulin in one of the storage sheds, she got that and spread it across the rest of the wood to keep it dry.

  She checked her supplies. Canned goods. Bottled water. Candles. Matches. She had everything she needed. “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” she sang out loud.

  Now if only it were Christmas, she thought, then remembered she had not even thought about a tree for herself. In fact, it had slipped her mind that this would be her very first Christmas alone, with no one to share it with. The year before she had still been married, but in name only. She did not see Kevin all through the holidays. He had offered no explanation, and she hadn’t asked for one, assuming he was working. Now she suspected otherwise, but it made no difference, because she no longer cared. And probably hadn’t then, either, only she didn’t realize it at the time. The season had been enjoyable, though, even without a husband or family to share it with. She had gladly put in extra time at Dove Haven, baking and decorating cookies, cakes, even making a real gingerbread house to put in the lobby for the residents and their guests to enjoy.

  So it had been a rewarding time, and she vowed then and there to make contact with a nursing home in the area so she could again feel like she was bringing a little joy into people’s lives.

  And maybe by doing so she could put some into her own, as well.

  The television reception was not very good. She managed to hear the weather forecast. Snow was coming, all right. Ten to twelve inches was predicted for the higher elevations. The ski resorts were ecstatic, but everyone else was bracing for the inconveniences sure to come—hazardous driving conditions, power outages, school closings.

  Jackie was a bit nervous. It would be her first-ever snow storm. Sure, the Durham area had gotten a few inches from time to time over the years, but nothing major and it usually didn’t last long. But this was different. It was also serious. She could be snowed in for days. Sam wouldn’t check on her. He had made sure she had enough firewood. It was up to her to take care of the rest. He had warned her it could get rough and would be gloating when it did, hoping it would make her leave.

  She made a beef stew, filling the crock pot with chunks of meat, potatoes, carrots and onions. The smell made her mouth water. It would simmer all afternoon, and the gravy would be so thick and delicious she would have to make fat, fluffy baking powder biscuits to eat with it.

  In mid-afternoon sleet began falling. That was bad, because it meant ice would be under the snow, making it much more treacherous to be out in.

  She curled up on the sofa near the fireplace and wrapped up in an afghan. She started reading, but it was all too cozy with the ice pellets striking the tin roof so melodiously. Soon she was fast asleep.

  The next thing she knew someone was tugging at the afghan, and her eyes flashed open to see Brian standing beside her.

  She sat up quickly. “Honey, what are you doing here?”

  Then she saw he was pointing toward the window, and she was not sure which overwhelmed the most—the fact that he was actually trying to tell her something for the first time or that it was snowing like crazy.

  “Would you look at that,” she said, awed, as he took her hand and drew her to the window.

  The flakes were big and coming down so hard it was hard to see out. They were sticking, too. The ground looked as though it was already covered in several inches.

  She hugged him to her. “Oh, Brian, you shouldn’t be here. I’m glad to see you, little guy, but you know your daddy said you couldn’t go off in the woods by yourself. Now what am I going to do with you?”

  He gave no indication of having heard her and ran to the door and flung it open.

  Jackie came up behind him and saw that the snow was blowing and had also covered the porch.

  Then it dawned.

  There were no footprints in the snow. Not on the porch. Not in the yard. “How did you get it?” she wondered aloud. The back door was latched, because it kept popping open, and she was afraid raccoons would invite themselves in. So Brian had to have come in the front door, which meant he had been there awhile.

  , Taking his hand and pulling him inside, she closed the door against the storm. Then, returning to the living area, she noticed how he had made himself a bed on the shaggy rug in front of the sofa. Probably he had been napping while she also snoozed.

  And when she went into the kitchen to offer him a biscuit she discovered that he had already quietly helped himself.

  “Little bandit,” she said lovingly, ruffling his hair.

  He pressed his head against her side, and her heart gave a leap. He was showing his affection, and she was deeply touched. “I like you too, sweetie,” she said, her arm going around him to squeeze him tight.

  “But,” she said with worried sigh, “what am I going to do with you
? We can’t walk in this weather, and the snow is too deep for me to drive in as worn out as my tires are. We’d wind up in a ditch for sure and be stuck till your daddy comes looking for you.”

  She snapped her fingers.

  “That’s it. We’ll just let him come looking, which he will do the second Bonnie realizes you’re missing. What did you do? Sneak out while she thought you were napping?”

  She gently gripped his shoulder and bent down so she could look straight into his eyes. Maybe he wasn’t able to speak, but the eyes of a child do not lie, and she could tell she’d hit the nail on the head. That meant Bonnie would be checking on him soon and finding him missing. Then she’d have to find Sam to let him know, and Sam, of course, would know right where to look.

  “Tell you what we’d better do,” Jackie said. “Your daddy is going to be real mad, so we’ll try to get on his good side by having a nice meal waiting for him. How’s that?”

  Brian’s expression did not change but she thought she saw a teeny flash of approval.

  “Let’s see.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “I’ll make more biscuits, and you can keep watch and let me know when you see his headlights okay? The minute you do, I’ll put them in the oven.”

  To her amazement, he got down off the stool he had been sitting on, dragged it over to the window, then climbed up on it again to begin his vigil.

  There was no way that child was retarded, and it made Jackie furious to think anyone could even hint that he was. And as soon as her phone was put in, she was going to start making some phone calls. Through working at the rest home, and marriage to someone studying to be a doctor, she had made a few contacts in the medical field and intended to use them to see what she could learn about Brian’s condition.

  She was busy rolling out biscuit dough and lost in thought when Brian suddenly began tugging at her apron. She looked out the window but didn’t see any headlights, and just then there was a hard pounding on the door.

  She opened it, and there stood Sam. He looked like a walking snowman. “What on earth...”