“I’ll be here, Mama.” Cori grabbed some tissues and they both blew their noses.
CORI LAY AWAKE IN BED later that night, staring at the ceiling and attempting to come to terms with mortality. She could deny it no longer. Her mother was dying. With that grim acceptance came fear. Breast cancer had taken both her mother and her grandmother. There could be cancer growing in Cori right now. Or she could get hit by a truck and die tomorrow. Either way, she needed to make sure Michael was taken care of.
Michael rolled over in his sleep, his arms skimming the polyester sleeping bag with a startling hiss. Who would kiss his cheek at night if she died?
Her brother, Luke, was too dedicated to the winery. He didn’t have time to devote to a little boy. And there was no way her grandfather would take him. There was Sidney, her boss, who didn’t know a thing about kids and wasn’t likely to learn.
That left Michael’s father. In her mind’s eye, Cori saw swirls of brown hair on the crown of two heads, father and son. She saw Blake standing in the doorway of the pink room with an odd look of longing on his face as he watched her cuddle Michael.
Did he want a child of his own?
The night they’d created Michael had started out so magically. She’d come home at spring break wanting to make love with Blake. In her heart, she’d known it wasn’t the right time. Cori didn’t plan to come home after graduation except to visit. It wouldn’t be fair to Blake. But she’d lasted five days before she snuck down to the river to meet him. They’d ended up in his bedroom, holding on to each other as if they couldn’t get close enough.
The evening was perfect, until Blake asked her to move in after graduation. All the time they’d spent together, sitting at the river under a blanket of fog, talking on the telephone. Didn’t he know Cori better than anyone? She’d thought he understood how important it was for her to get away from her family and make it on her own. But he hadn’t. Worse, when she tried to explain her need for independence, he thought that she wanted to sleep with other men.
But her return home wasn’t about her relationship with Blake.
Cori jumped up, pulled on her jeans and her red Stanford sweatshirt, and laced her tennis shoes without socks. She’d tell Blake. She’d tell Blake and no one else, for Michael’s sake. What she and Blake had shared and then broken didn’t matter. Michael’s future had to come first.
Panicky steps took her down to the river through the fog. She knew the land intimately, had been sneaking down to the riverbank in the dark since she was twelve. Cori was panting more from adrenaline than from muscle strain when she got there. She couldn’t outrun her need to protect Michael.
The Russian River flowed by dispassionately in near silence. Blake wasn’t there.
She should go back. This was madness. She’d draw up a will for her own peace of mind and no one need ever know until she was ready to tell them. Unless it became a necessity. Then she’d have to rely on someone, maybe a stranger, being smart enough to find the will and follow her wishes.
Cori paced back and forth at the edge of the river. The fog’s embrace was cool and comforting, but she was still restless. Michael’s future needed to be secured.
She’d paced maybe a total of thirty seconds. She couldn’t stand it anymore. Cori took off down the road along the river.
The road leading to Blake.
“I FINISHED TODAY’S homework. How much more of this old stuff do I need to do?” Jennifer snapped at Blake without lifting her head. She was bent over the kitchen table, nubby pencil gripped tightly in her fingers, red after hours of homework.
“Five more minutes.” Blake pretended to be totally focused on the muted weather channel, masking his irritation with his sister as best he could. Every few minutes, he popped a peanut M&M into his mouth and sucked on it in an effort to keep a handle on his emotions. He was more than a little mad at himself for allowing Jen to slip this far. He should have known something was wrong when she’d started her Jekyll and Hyde mood swings about the same time Sophia had fallen sick.
“There’s a weekend coming up, you know.”
“Yeah, well don’t be planning anything with Shelly. You’re grounded.”
“You only said that twenty times already.”
“A little less talk and we’d be done by now.”
“I can finish on the weekend. It’s not like I’m dating.” Her voice sounded wistful.
Did she like a boy at school? Blake opened his mouth to ask her, but the awkward question stuck to the chocolate coating his throat.
“What was that?” Jen looked to the front of the house.
“Just finish the page,” Blake said wearily. It was nearly eleven. If he crashed soon, he’d have about five hours’ sleep before he needed to get up again to meet the field workers at first light.
“Something’s out there. Didn’t you hear it?”
“Jen,” Blake warned at the same time that he heard it, too. Someone was knocking on the front door. No one ever knocked at their door, particularly at eleven o’clock at night.
Blake hurried to the front of the house, his mind latched on to the unpleasant possibility that Sophia had passed away. Too soon, he thought. His heart stalled when the door creaked open to reveal Cori, looking as if she’d just rolled out of bed—and not in a good way. Her hair was flat on one side and damp from the fog. Wild eyes and red cheeks, along with her shallow breathing, led him to believe she’d run over here. She looked terrible.
Who was he kidding? She was a beautiful damsel in distress, he thought guiltily, unable to think straight. Despite everything she’d put him through and everything he’d convinced himself she was, in the past twenty-four hours he’d recognized the strength and dignity of the woman he’d fallen in love with in the woman standing in front of him. Or maybe it was just that he wanted to remember and relive the feeling of excitement and intimacy of being with Cori. Either way, the sight of Cori filled him with the kind of anticipation he shouldn’t have been feeling when expecting bad news.
“You’re still awake.” She stood awkwardly on the wooden porch, moving from side to side. “I saw the lights on.”
Blake stepped outside into the chilly evening and closed the door behind him. He didn’t want Jennifer to overhear what Cori had to say.
“Is something wrong? At the house?” How else could he ask Cori if her mother had died? Should he risk taking her in his arms when she told him?
“No, no.” Cori shook her head and backed away, her eyes on her feet. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I just had to get away.”
She looked it. The need to keep her talking and to find out what was wrong propelled him a step closer.
“I told you we were awake. Does Sophia need me?” Do you? He couldn’t stop the thought.
Cori shook her head and hugged herself in silence. Why had she come in the middle of the night?
“Do you want a cup of coffee? I was just helping Jen with her homework.” This was lunacy. Cori stood on his porch in the middle of the night, a magnet he was drawn to. Why couldn’t he have gotten over Cori the way he’d convinced himself he had?
“Jen’s lucky she has you to keep her on track.”
Her praise seemed undeserved, given Jen’s current predicament. “She hit twelve and became this being I swear I didn’t raise. She takes all my energy and then some.” He rubbed the back of his neck, admitting, “I could barely keep myself from yelling at her every time she gave me attitude today. I don’t know how people raise more than one. Jen seems to be my limit.”
“Oh.” Cori found it difficult to hide her disappointment.
The cold seeped through the porch boards, through his socks and into his toes, which were rooted a yard from hers. He realized she still hadn’t explained the purpose of her visit.
“What was it you needed?”
Cori’s eyes darted away from his. “I…I just wanted to say…” She shivered as she hesitated, then started again. “What would you do if you had another child?”
Blake laughed once, a weak attempt to cover his confusion. “That’s not going to happen. Jen is my first priority. I don’t even date anymore.” Not since Cori and their major crash and burn.
Cori swallowed and looked at his socks. A raw silence settled between them. A foreboding thought crept unpleasantly into Blake’s head as he waited for Cori to say something.
And then he knew.
Blake started to shake his head in denial even before Cori looked up at him and confirmed his suspicion.
“You have a child. Michael.”
“No.” The first wave of shock shuddered through his system, followed by the numbness created by a lack of oxygen. The kid was too young, too small. Blake staggered back to the door, leaning on it for support as he drank air in deep, quick breaths.
Cori hugged herself tighter than before as she stared at him with those big, dark, lying eyes.
“I seem to recall using a condom.” The anger crashed through him as the initial shock of her statement wore off.
“Condoms aren’t one hundred percent effective.”
He made a derisive sound, one he’d learned from Jennifer.
She cleared her throat, her gaze sliding to the window to his left. “My doctor wasn’t sure if I was incredibly fertile or if you were one of those men with really potent sperm that can get a woman pregnant even if you use a condom, or if you were at the gate, so to speak, without one. Or it could’ve been both you and me combined.”
Her words brought back the memory of that one night in all its Technicolor glory. Burning for each other, they’d almost made love in his truck. He’d touched her before he remembered the importance of protection. They’d rushed upstairs to Blake’s bedroom and a box of condoms.
The kid couldn’t be his.
An image of the boy’s ears sticking out came back to him with painful familiarity. Why hadn’t he suspected anything before this? Because the kid’s size made him seem too young to be Blake’s? Because he was preoccupied with caring for Sophia? Because Blake hadn’t wanted to consider the possibility Cori would raise their son without him?
Blake swore and rubbed his stiff neck. “What makes you so sure it’s mine?”
“You’re the only one.”
“I recall you dumping me because you needed to be free.” He would have married her. Hell, he would have married her and she hadn’t even told him she was pregnant. Was he so far beneath her that he hadn’t mattered enough for her to tell him?
“There was no one else,” she said, holding herself stiffly. “I couldn’t come back here. I told you that. Several times. You wanted to stay.”
“I needed to stay for Jennifer.” During all their conversations, he’d thought Cori had meant being away at school when she’d talked about her freedom—not leaving forever. Could that have been just wishful thinking on his part?
“And I needed to go.” At his deepening frown, she tossed up her hands. “Don’t sweat it. My family misunderstands me all the time.”
Blake swore again. Louder. “It’s clear to me that I’ve never understood you.” He tilted his head back and pretended to look at the cobwebbed porch rafters. “Why are you telling me this now?”
When Cori didn’t immediately respond, Blake dropped his chin to his chest and gave her a hard look. She wasn’t mad, which meant she was holding something back with her Messina silence.
“You deserve to know,” she said finally.
“Yeah, right.” Blake blew out a frustrated lungful of air. “I deserved to know the day you suspected you were pregnant!”
“I was young and under a lot of pressure.” Her face crumpled.
“Don’t you dare cry.” Blake took two quick steps toward her, forcing her to the edge of the porch. “Pressure, my ass. I wasn’t good enough for you.” He flexed his fingers to keep from grabbing her and shaking her into confessing her child wasn’t really his. “Does anyone know? Your mother? Grandfather?”
“Mama guessed.”
He recognized panic in her eyes. She didn’t want anyone to know. Despite managing all of Messina’s vineyards, millions of dollars’ worth of property, he still wasn’t good enough for her.
“Fine.” He spoke tightly. “You’ve kept your little lie this long. Give me some time to get used to it before you tell anyone else.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, deceptive eyes full of unshed tears.
That was almost too much. “Hell, Cori, I don’t know why you’re thanking me, unless it’s for my sperm donation.”
CORI PEEKED into her mother’s bedroom. In the dim hall light, she could just make out her mother’s frail frame beneath the bedspread. Cast in shadow, the room offered no comfort to Cori this evening. The house, too, stood in oppressive silence.
She’d done the right thing for both Michael and Blake. So, why did she feel so lost? Because she couldn’t tell Blake everything and he thought she was a selfish bitch.
Movement in the shadows startled her. Luke rolled off the couch with a grunt and padded toward Cori in socks and a pair of sweatpants. He gently took her by the shoulders and prodded her out into the hall, shutting the door behind them.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered, peering down at her.
Cori rubbed her arms, shivering with the knowledge that she’d promised Blake she wouldn’t tell anyone else.
“Have you slept here every night since she came home?”
Luke nodded with a grim smile. “I have a permanent kink in my spine.” He arched his back with a groan. “Blake used to take the day shift, with Jennifer and Grandpop on afternoons and evenings. Maria’s our reliever. Your being here has helped a lot.”
Blake’s watching her mother during the day must have made it impossible for him to finish his duties. Suddenly, Cori knew the source of some of Blake’s sharp remarks. He had to have been relying on Cori to care for Mama so that he could do the job he was paid for. It must have been extremely annoying to hear her excuses—her own work. She’d probably disappointed Blake tremendously, for he wasn’t normally a bitter man. Now she’d sunk even lower in his esteem. The realization that he’d resent her for what she’d hidden from him filled her eyes with tears.
“Did you and Blake fight?”
Cori looked pointedly at Luke. Did he know?
He shrugged. “Just a guess, but whenever you snuck out, it was down to the river. I’ve found Blake down there a lot over the years.”
“You used to sneak into town,” she countered without answering directly. Luke was more a prowler than she was, going into town and looking for girls, beer and fights. The sheriff had often escorted Luke home during his high school years, much to their grandfather’s chagrin.
Luke rubbed the top of her head as if she were Michael’s age. “Always the golden girl, staying out of trouble.”
“Hardly.” She hugged Luke tight, no small feat when he towered over her. “I’ve really missed you.”
“Me, too, munchkin,” Luke said. “You know, I think it would have been great if you and Blake had worked out.”
Cori stepped back so that she could see Luke’s expression, but he didn’t wear a brotherly smirk, only a look of concern. “Did he say anything to you?” She wasn’t sure if she meant now or back then.
“Blake?” He shook his head. “Didn’t you know? He’s part Messina. Doesn’t say a word or ask questions about things that don’t concern him. Grandpop loves him. It’ll kill him if Blake ever leaves.” Luke rubbed a hand over his face. “Not that I think Blake plans to leave. He’s too loyal to Grandpop.”
“He fits right in.” Her grandfather would be crushed by what he would certainly consider Blake’s betrayal.
Luke touched her shoulder with his fist in a playful punch. “Just like Mama. You worry too much about everybody but you.”
HE HAD A SON.
Blake wasn’t sure he was ready to accept it. He hadn’t told Jen anything. Who knew how she’d take the news. Hopefully, Cori would keep her word—as good as that was�
�and not tell the rest of her family until Blake had time to get used to the idea.
There was no sign that Cori and the kid had been downstairs this morning. That didn’t mean Blake wanted to see them. He especially did not want to see Cori. He wouldn’t have thought that she could break his heart again, but she had. What little respect and rejuvenated love he’d held for her was buried beneath the oppressive weight of her duplicity.
He climbed the kitchen stairs to Sophia’s bedroom, slowly for once, despite the fact that he had little time to waste.
It was early, with the sky still a soft shade of blue-gray. When it was light enough, Blake and his crew were going to begin the trellising. In this first phase, they made sure the recently pruned plants were still adequately attached to the trellising system. Like all vines, if not carefully monitored, a vine would grip itself or a neighboring vine, making harvesting exceedingly difficult.
Blake’s pace quickened as he passed the pink room. He longed to see his son, but at the same time, Blake didn’t want to face the kid. How was he supposed to treat the boy? All was silent behind the door and he passed it without incident, without relief of his tension.
He wondered how Sophia would treat him once he told her he knew about the kid. He didn’t trust himself to say anything yet. Every time he mentally broached the topic with Sophia, he couldn’t keep from condemning Cori. Blake could just hear him telling Sophia he didn’t want anything to change between them, but her daughter was trying to ruin his life. Wouldn’t that go over well?
Blake tapped on Sophia’s door before stepping in.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he said with false cheer.
Someone tugged the curtains open, spilling gray light onto a chipper Sophia propped up in bed. Cori stood awkwardly next to the window wearing blue capris and a short orange sweater that seemed to fit her like a second skin, stopping an inch shy of her navel. The combination revealed smooth skin across her softly rounded abdomen.
Michael's Father (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 11