by Carol Voss
Peter’s jaw clenched. “She had no right to give him away.”
Jessie’s gaze darted to the ground as if she didn’t want to see the truth, even with Peter standing right in front of her. Turning to face him, she lifted her chin. “He’s my son. I adopted him. And I’ll do whatever I have to do because there’s no way I’ll let you take him away from me. None.” Chin high, she turned and limped away.
Throat tight, he watched her go, a mixture of feelings completely confusing him. She was so gentle and vulnerable…with a core of sheer determination. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted.
But it looked like he had a son he didn’t know existed until now. Even if his life was his research. What in the world was he going to do with a kid?
He turned and strode for the parking lot, dodging a petite redhead who was jogging down the sidewalk in a dress and high heels. He’d better call his attorney and find out just what his rights and responsibilities were. Because before he met Jessie at the diner, he needed to gain some control of this situation.
Walking as fast as she could, Jessie glared straight ahead. What is going on, God? You can’t possibly expect me to give up Jake. Haven’t I already lost enough?
“Hey Jess, wait up.”
“Maggie,” Jake squealed.
Trying to rein in her panic without much success, Jessie turned.
“Hi, Jake.” Her high-heeled best friend jogged to Jessie’s side, barely out of breath. “You look even more upset than Dr. Sheridan does. What were you talking to that hunky man about?”
“That hunky man says he’s Jake’s father.” Jessie had trouble recognizing the strained voice as her own.
“What?” Maggie turned to scowl at Dr. Sheridan’s retreating physique. “Why would he say something like that?”
“You didn’t notice how much they look alike?”
“Well, I suppose…but that doesn’t mean…”
“He has the birthmark. He said it runs in his family. And he knows exactly how old Jake is.”
Maggie looked confused. “He and Clarissa?”
“Apparently.” Jessie swallowed hard. “She didn’t tell him she was pregnant.”
“What?” Maggie’s big brown eyes rolled. “What was she thinking?”
“He says she had no right to give him to—” Her voice broke.
“Now calm down, Jess.” Maggie threw her hands in the air like she always did when she was upset. “Let’s just think a minute. First, he hasn’t taken a paternity test, so we don’t know he’s the daddy. And second, if he is, you have the adoption papers, right?”
Jessie nodded, afraid to trust her voice.
Maggie’s hands darted dramatically. “We both know Clarissa was a stickler for making sure everything was very legal and in order. So even if he does turn out to be Jake’s dad, what can he do about it?”
Jessie wanted to believe Maggie’s words, but…
“Nada,” Maggie said as if the whole matter was settled. “Wait here while I get my car.”
Jessie’s head spun. She needed time to calm down and get her defenses back in place. “Walking is my physical therapy, remember?”
“But it’s going to rain.” Maggie pointed at the sky. “Besides, Jake is too heavy.”
“Maggie….” Jessie had warned her friend to quit treating her like she needed help or she’d have to look for a new best friend. Maggie had agreed to watch it, but she still needed reminding.
“Fine.” Maggie narrowed her eyes. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m perfect,” Jessie snapped. She didn’t even want to think about how protective Maggie and her parents would be if they knew the accident had left her with injuries less obvious than her limp…injuries nothing could ever heal.
Rain was starting, Jake felt like he weighed a hundred pounds and Jessie’s hip was killing her by the time she struggled up the diner steps. She hoped Will was still inside.
Jake’s adoption had to hold up in court. Like Maggie said, Clarissa had always been thorough, and she would have made certain the father-not-knowing-about-the-baby loophole was closed. Wouldn’t she?
She pulled open the door, the bell above it jingling to announce them. The interior’s cool, dry air confirmed her new AC was doing its job. Her cousin Lisa, who was behind the counter, and several customers sitting on Jessie’s new, red vinyl stools greeted them. Jake returned their greetings by opening and closing both little fists in his rendition of a wave.
With a sigh of relief, Jessie spotted Will, the upper-classman who’d gone to college on a basketball scholarship and returned to Noah’s Crossing with a law degree not long after her accident. She’d still been in physical therapy when he’d asked her out on a pity date, probably engineered by Aunt Lou. At least Aunt Lou tried to organize everybody’s lives, not just Jessie’s.
But her refusal to date Will didn’t mean they weren’t still friends. It didn’t keep him from stopping in the diner for pie almost every afternoon, either. “Hey, Will. Can I have a word with you in the back room?”
The corners of Will’s sharp blue eyes wrinkled. “Right now?”
Jessie noticed the fork in his hand and the half-eaten pie à la mode on the plate in front of him. “Bring your pie with you. You want a cup of coffee on the house?”
“Can’t pass that up, now, can I?” His puzzled look intact, Will stood to tower over the counter.
Actually, Will wasn’t any taller than Dr. Sheridan, was he? Jessie pushed the image of the handsome, authoritative doctor from her mind and strode for the curtain that separated the customer area from the prep-and-storage room. She needed to focus.
Lisa poured Will’s cup of coffee. “You look upset.”
Jessie met her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said automatically.
“Well, you don’t look fine.” Lisa handed the steaming coffee to Will.
“Thanks,” he said.
Jessie ducked through the curtain and headed for the play corner she’d fenced off near one of the long windows. “Look, Jake. There’s Thomas the engine, right where you left him.”
“Tomut!” Jake threw himself with glee, totally oblivious to the concept of gravity.
But Jessie was ready for his lunge and stopped him from falling. She hoped he outgrew his habit before he got much heavier and harder to contain. “Slow down, okay?”
Jake touched her cheek in the sweet apology that always melted her heart. Then he turned, wriggling for release.
She bent over the mesh fence to set him down, pain stabbing her hip and making her catch her breath. “There you go.”
“There you goes,” he mimicked, scurrying to his low train table.
Will chuckled. “He’s talking more every day.” Setting his empty plate near the sink, he leaned against the counter. “How’d you hurt your leg?”
Jessie frowned. “My leg is fine.”
Will took a sip of coffee and wisely decided to change the subject. “You outdid yourself with that raspberry-rhubarb pie. I think it’s my new favorite.” He gave her a little grin.
She attempted a smile, then gave it up as she hurried to the fireproof safe where she kept her important papers. Grasping her ring of keys from her purse, she knelt and unlocked the box. She clasped the folder marked “Jake,” struggled to her feet and handed it to Will.
He looked at the identifying tab, then at Jessie. “Jake?”
“Clarissa hired a lawyer she knew in New York to handle the legal work for the private adoption. I’m sure everything is as it should be, but will you look at it to make sure?”
“Any reason for your sudden interest?”
She squinted. “It seems I met Jake’s father today. He made the scholarship presentation at graduation. He says Clarissa didn’t tell him about Jake.” Her words sounded clipped, almost matter-of-fact, but the breathless panic ringing in her ears told the real story.
Will set his cup beside his pie plate, bent his head and thumbed through the contents of the folder.
Hanging on to a calm she
didn’t feel, Jessie tried to read Will’s face as he studied Jake’s birth certificate and papers documenting the adoption. “We dotted every i and crossed every t, didn’t we?”
Will looked up. “The documents that are here look perfect.”
She wanted to heave a sigh of relief, but his serious tone warned her there was more.
“In Wisconsin, a single mother doesn’t need to identify the father on the baby’s birth certificate, but if Clarissa didn’t tell him she was pregnant, and his DNA proves he’s the father, he has a legitimate claim.”
Jessie stared in horror. “How much of a claim?”
“He’d need a court order, but if he has the means to care for Jake, a judge could very well award him at least partial custody.”
“No,” she heard herself moan, pain wrenching deep inside.
“I’m really sorry, Jess. Why didn’t Clarissa tell him?”
“She said he was completely uninterested in being a father. I had no idea she hadn’t told him. She wouldn’t even tell me who the father was.” A thought nudged Jessie’s mind. Had her sister wanted to give Jessie her dream of being a mother so much that she’d convinced herself the father wouldn’t care? If Dr. Sheridan hadn’t come to Noah’s Crossing to present the scholarship, Jake’s father’s would still be a mystery.
“Look—even if he proves to be Jake’s father, are you sure he wants custody?” Will asked.
Jessie thought about the look on Dr. Sheridan’s face when he’d reached out to touch Jake. About the intensity in his tone when he’d insisted Clarissa had no right to give Jake away. She swiped at tears clouding her vision. “I don’t know. But he can’t have Jake. You have to help me. I’ll do whatever I need to do.”
“Are you convinced the guy is Jake’s dad?”
She’d give anything to be able to say no. Promise anything if God would just make the man go away like none of this was happening. But she knew things didn’t work that way. “Yes. I believe he is Jake’s father.”
“Then try to find a compromise to keep him from taking you to court.”
“Compromise?” She shook her head. “I’ll never compromise where Jake is concerned.”
“Wouldn’t a compromise be better than losing him?”
She drew a sharp breath.
“It could happen, Jess.”
“Doesn’t it matter that Jake’s mother didn’t want the father to know? That she wanted me to raise him?”
“It’s a factor in your favor. So are the adoption papers. But…I know Jake means the world to you. I don’t advise you to risk it.” Will handed the file folder to her. “Is the guy married?”
“I don’t think so. He doesn’t wear a ring anyway.”
“Does he know anything about raising kids?”
“I don’t know that, either.” She put the folder back in the safe, fumbled to lock it, then dropped her keys in her purse.
Will rubbed the back of his neck. “The thought of being a single dad would scare me to death. Watching all you do with Jake, I can see I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to take care of a kid.”
Her mind seized on Will’s words. If Dr. Sheridan was single…did he know what being a single father would involve? If he knew, would he be afraid of taking it on like Will was?
“Jess.” Lisa held the curtain divider aside. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but a tall, good-looking guy in a suit insists on seeing you. And he’s not a patient man.”
Chapter Three
Feeling more in charge of things, Peter brushed rain off his shoulders, the succulent aroma of roasting meat and mouth-watering sweets in Jessie’s Main Street Diner reminding him he hadn’t eaten lunch. He ignored the din of diners eating at the busy counter and gave a curt nod to the tall, unfriendly looking guy emerging through the colorful curtain, cup of coffee in hand. A relative? A boyfriend? Was Jessie circling the wagons already?
Well, gentle and vulnerable or not, let her try to stop him from seeing his son and he’d straighten her out in a hurry. He’d called his attorney, who had assured him that he did, indeed, have responsibilities and rights if he was the boy’s father, and his rights could even trump hers in a court of law if Peter decided to take it that far.
Strange. He was too absorbed in his research to think he’d ever get married, let alone have a kid. Finding out he had one was shocking, amazing and overwhelming. But he had to admit, the idea was beginning to grow on him.
Deep inside, he was convinced the boy was his. But that hadn’t stopped him from picking up DNA kits at the local drugstore. A few quick cheek swabs would prevent future questions…his or anybody else’s.
Clutching the drugstore bag, he ducked into the back room. His glance took in stoves, refrigerators and a huge sink. A long counter held baking paraphernalia, and shelves stacked with boxes lined one wall.
Jessie stood in the middle of the room, her blue eyes snapping with challenge, her slender body tense and skittish as a filly about to bolt.
He had the unmistakable urge to gentle her. A pretty outrageous thought from a guy who’d never had time for a serious relationship.
“Pedo.”
Peter grinned, amazed the little fella remembered his name. His gaze swept to the boy standing at a low table in a fenced-off corner filled with toys. The toddler was dwarfed by a mural on the wall above him of a blue train with an impish smile. “How’s it going, Jacob?”
The little guy pointed to himself. “Jake.”
“Jake? Then Jake it is.”
“Tomut.” The boy held up a small toy for Peter to admire.
Peter took a step closer.
Jessie shot between them, eyes flashing. “What do you want?” She stared at the bag in his hand.
He raked his hand through his thick, short hair and decided to lay it on the line. “I need a cheek swab from each of you for DNA testing.”
“DNA testing?”
“You and Clarissa were identical twins, so you have the same DNA. A sample from you will strengthen the DNA test probabilities.”
She shook her head. “I need to talk to my lawyer before I agree to that.”
He frowned. “I think we both know a DNA test is just a formality. But it will clear up lingering doubts. I’d like to take samples back to Madison with me. Will you call your lawyer? I need to get on the road soon.”
She chewed her pretty bottom lip.
“I phoned my attorney,” he said. “He told me I have a legal right to my son.”
She shot him a scowl. “Do you know anything about kids?”
Absolutely nothing. But… “I’m a quick study.”
“I’ll take that to mean you don’t know about kids or the practicalities of having a toddler in your life.”
He rubbed his forehead, which had begun to throb. “Jessie…I’m still getting used to the fact that my son exists. Practicalities might take me a little while.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is sarcasm the best you can do, Dr. Sheridan?”
“Sorry. I’ve been caught a little off guard here.”
“And I haven’t?” She blew out an impatient breath.
“Pedo.” Jake held up the toy again.
Jessie turned to the little guy. “Mommy’s talking to Peter right now, sweetheart.”
“No.” Jake shook his head. “Pedo. Tomut.”
Giving Peter a warning look, she stepped aside.
Peter strode over and squatted to peer at the blue engine Jake held in his chubby fist. “Nice train.” He pointed at the mural. “Just like the picture.”
“Tomut.”
Peter looked up to Jessie. “I think we need an interpreter.”
She swallowed as if forcing down a bitter pill. “He’s saying Thomas—the name of his favorite engine.”
“Thank you.” He tried to smile. No doubt coming face to face with Jake’s dad had to be a shock for her. Maybe as much of a shock as Peter finding out he had a son.
Jake reached out and fingered the colorful tie hanging loosely a
round Peter’s neck. “Putty?”
“Putty,” Peter agreed, whatever it meant.
“He thinks your tie is pretty,” Jessie offered.
“Oh…pretty.” Peter glanced over his shoulder at her. “Thank you.”
“Nana? Weesa?”
Peter squinted, unable to decipher who or what Nana and Weesa were.
“Nana is his gramma and Lisa is the woman behind the counter out front,” Jessie explained. “He’s asking where they are.”
Jake looked from Jessie back to Peter and broke into a big grin.
Peter laughed, the sound unfamiliar to his ears. “You know we’re talking about you, don’t you?”
Giggling, Jake whirled, toddled over to the low table and began pushing his engine around the track, chattering away in a dialect that had no resemblance to language as Peter knew it.
It appeared the boy’s curiosity about Peter had been satisfied. Peter stood and turned to Jessie. “He’s an alert, intelligent little boy. Obviously, you’re doing an amazing job with him.”
“Thank you.” She frowned as if unsure she could trust his sincerity. “I don’t want him to hear us.” She walked across the room.
Peter followed her.
She stopped and turned to him. “Clarissa said Jake’s father was unavailable and had no interest in being a father.”
A little too close to the truth?
“Are you married?” she asked.
He almost laughed. When would he have time to get married? “Clarissa and I spent one night together. I’m too dedicated to my research to have time for relationships. Clarissa knew that. Maybe that’s what she meant.”
“Too dedicated to be a father? That’s the way she felt about being a mother.” Jessie’s sad eyes told him she’d never understand her sister’s decision.
“So she left the baby with you and your parents to raise and went back to New York as if he didn’t exist?”
Jessie shook her head. “She never pretended he didn’t exist. You’re not being fair.”
“I’m not being fair? Clarissa wasn’t fair to any of us.”
“Not fair?” Jessie’s blue eyes narrowed. “She gave me the most precious gift she could have given me.”