Reyn's Redemption

by Beth Cornelison

  She shook her head. “Not for me. For me it was more. So much more.”

  “No! It can’t be any more. It changes nothing.” Even as he said the words, he knew he was lying. It had meant more to him too. Being joined to her had rocked his world. That was perhaps the scariest part. But looking too closely at the truth of his feelings toward her was like staring at the sun. It hurt too much, blinded him to the reality that he could never be what she needed. He had no right to love her, to ask her to love him.

  Because you’re too big of a coward to let her in, too scared to do the right thing. You don’t deserve her.

  He bit out a vile curse, and she flinched. Somehow he had to regain the distance that would protect her from his failure. He had to convince her they had no future, squelch her dreams, stomp her feelings before they had a chance to grow.

  Hurting her now would kill him, but it would save her the deeper, more bitter disappointment sure to come if he let things between them progress.

  “I let things get out of hand and that was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

  The look on her face flayed him open, left him raw and bleeding. He scrubbed a hand over his face, hating himself for letting things get out of control, leaving him no choice but to break her heart this way. He had to be convincing, could leave her no room for doubt. The break had to be clean and complete. Even if she hated him for it.

  “I can’t be what you need me to be, Olivia.”

  She stared at him with tears hovering in her bewildered gaze. Her stillness raked him with razor-sharp tines.

  Hurting her, rejecting her this way ripped him apart. But it was for the greater good. Wasn’t it?

  He could see her trembling, and he ached to take her in his arms, soothe her, beg her forgiveness. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk failing Olivia and letting her see how miserably he fell short of her expectations.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice thready, heartbreaking.

  “I’m not doing anything I didn’t warn you about. I told you I couldn’t be what you wanted. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t—” He huffed his frustration and scrubbed his jaw.

  She pressed her lips together, obviously trying not to cry. He felt his own throat constrict, and before he broke down in front of her, he headed for the bathroom.

  “I’m going to take a shower. I think you should go home now. I-I want to be alone.”

  She gave a harsh, humorless laugh. “What happened to ‘I want you here so I can protect you’?”

  Reyn slapped the doorframe and bit out a curse. “I’ll still come down to the pharmacy later, but I have some things to do first.”

  She climbed off the bed, fire leaping in her eyes. “You’re so gallant. Well, don’t bother yourself on my account, Mr. Macho. I’ll take care of myself.”

  “Be careful, Olivia. Have Hank take you in to town. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”

  She tossed her hair and scowled. “I absolve you of any responsibility if I get killed. Heaven forbid you should feel anything where I’m concerned.”

  He tried not to look at her sleek, beautiful body as she snatched her clothes off the chair where she’d draped them last night. Her hurt and anger wrenched inside him. Don’t leave. I’m sorry. So sorry.

  “I trusted you.”

  “And I told you I was no hero. I can’t live up to your fantasy.” Without waiting for her response, he headed into the shower. He turned the water to the iciest setting and stepped into the punishing spray, clenching his teeth. He tipped his face up so that the chilling spray could wash away the sting of tears from his cheeks. Silently he prayed she’d be there when he got out. In his heart, he hoped she wouldn’t give up on him. He clung to the hope that she’d see through his brutal tactics. That she’d have the love and strength he lacked to face down his fears.

  Don’t go, Olivia. I need you.

  But when he stepped back into the bedroom, dripping cold water from the shower, she was gone.

  Olivia stomped down the stairs, angry tears blurring her vision. She’d been a fool. Why had she thought her love, her faith would be enough to save him from his demons? People didn’t change just because she wanted them to. She couldn’t make him open his heart to her, couldn’t force him to share his soul. All of her optimism and encouragement couldn’t fix the things from his past that haunted him any more than she could undo the terrible mistake she’d made crawling into his bed last night.

  Stupid, stupid! She’d given herself to a man who’d told her he couldn’t commit, warned her not to fall in love, given her every out. But she’d let her blind belief in his caring nature, his integrity and protectiveness cloud the truth. He didn’t love her, didn’t want commitment, wasn’t looking for anything more than a tumble in the sheets.

  I can’t live up to your fantasy.

  She’d wanted her vision of what could be so badly, she’d ignored reality. She had only herself to blame. She’d made love to him without thinking about tomorrow, without considering his warnings, without…

  …a condom.

  Olivia’s knees buckled as she reached for the brass knob of the front door. It rattled as she sank to the floor with a whimper. They hadn’t used a condom this morning.

  Mentally she tried to calculate where she was in her cycle, how likely it was that she’d conceived. But her mind froze. All she could think about was the emotionless tone of Reyn’s voice. I told you I was no hero.

  She considered leaving. She wanted to go home and put last night and this morning behind her. But Reyn needed to know about their slip-up, needed to be prepared for the possibility that she could be…

  A sharp ache curled inside her, tightening her throat. She wanted to have a family of her own. But the idea of having Reyn’s baby was bittersweet. Because he didn’t love her.

  On weak legs, she stumbled into the kitchen and dropped into a chair to wait for Reyn. When he came downstairs and spotted her sitting at the pine table, he hesitated in the doorway.

  “I thought you’d gone home.”

  A fresh wave of pain washed through her, and she had to fill her lungs before she could speak. “And I will. But we have to talk first.”

  “I have nothing left to say.”

  “Well, I do.”

  He walked past her to the coffee machine and began fixing the pot to brew, presenting her with his back.

  Olivia stood and continued, undeterred by his rudeness. “We messed up this morning.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “I mean…this morning, when we made lo—” The words caught in her throat. “When we had sex—” Her tone was as hard as the bands squeezing her heart.

  She watched his back as he continued setting up the coffee maker without looking at her.

  “Reyn, we didn’t use a condom. I could be pregnant.”

  His hands stilled, but he didn’t turn. For long moments, he was quiet. Too quiet.

  “Reyn?”

  “Damn it, this is just the kind of problem I knew I’d cause for you.”

  She staggered back a step. More than the self-reproach in his tone, his word choice crashed into her like a physical blow. Her breath backed up in her lungs, and for several seconds, she couldn’t speak.

  “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll give you money, help pay—”

  “Keep your damn money! I don’t consider a child to be a problem—” Her voice caught on a sob, and finally he turned.

  His eyes reminded her of granite. Cold, hard, lifeless.

  He truly didn’t care that she could be carrying his baby. Family meant so little to him that he’d rather part with money than be part of his child’s life.

  Hurt, rage, disillusionment mingled and swelled inside her. She wanted to throw up, to lash out. She felt the world tilt.

  Mustering her strength, she looked him in the eye, his cold gray eyes that stared back at her with no sign of remorse.

  “Goodbye, Reyn,” she whispered, then spun on her heel. She
ran for the door, blinking back her tears. She would not cry for him. She was through with Reyn and his distance. Family meant nothing to him. How could she have ever imagined building a life with him? How could she have been so blind?

  As she ran for the woods, for home, the gray clouds reflected the bleak fog in her soul. And the sky wept for her.

  I could be pregnant.

  Olivia’s announcement paralyzed his body while his mind raced with the implications.

  What had he been thinking, making love to her without protection? He’d been so swept up in the moment, so intensely focused on her and his bone-deep need to be inside her, to claim her that he hadn’t given a thought to precaution.

  Damn. Damn. Damn!

  He clenched his teeth so tight in self-censure that his jaw ached. His gut revolted with an acid bite.

  Because he’d gotten so lost in what he was feeling for her, he’d screwed up royally. He’d done exactly what he’d been trying to avoid most of his life. Because he’d gotten too close, too attached, he’d hurt someone else he cared about.

  And she hated him now. One more innocent life he’d ruined while he battled his inadequacies and ran from his demons.

  He could be a father. He could have created a life, another innocent who’d suffer because of his failure. He’d thought he’d sunk as deep into his despair and fear as he could go.

  He’d been wrong.

  With a trembling hand, he grabbed the coffee pot and tried to pour himself a cup. The hot liquid sloshed out, burning his hand and splashing on the counter.

  I don’t consider a child to be a problem!

  With a roar of frustration and self-disgust, he hurled the glass carafe across the kitchen. It shattered on the wall where his calendar picture hung, splattering his image with coffee, littering the floor with shards of glass. His chest squeezed with warring emotions, and he dragged in a labored breath. He’d been so careful, building walls to protect himself from this pain, yet his world had still collapsed around him. The walls had caved in on him. He was trapped in the rubble, suffocating, and only he could rescue himself. If he had the courage.

  Coward.

  The way he saw it, he had two options. He could go back to his anesthetized existence in Atlanta and bury the past again. He could run from the heartache and hide from the truth, try to escape his feelings for Olivia.

  But what about his responsibilities to her and their child, if she was pregnant?

  Olivia’s bitter reaction to his offer of money replayed inside his head. He hadn’t handled that well at all. Another mistake. Another painful blow to a woman he cared about. Deeply. So what did he do? How did he rectify the mess he’d made?

  His only real option filled him with an icy dread. How could he stay in Clairmont? How could he live with the daily reminders of his failure and the pain of his losses?

  The demon snickered and taunted him. Coward. Take the easy way out. Walk away. No pain.

  But what about the agony he’d suffer if he walked away from Olivia? Losing her was an option he didn’t want to consider. Losing the chance to be a father to her child left a bleak emptiness inside him. He groaned and scrubbed his face with his hand. He had only to think of the way she’d felt in his arms, the soul-piercing connection he’d experienced when their bodies were joined, to have his answer.

  He wanted her, needed her in his life. She’d breathed hope and life into him with her optimism, chased away his gloom with her sunshine and warm smile. Her touch, her love gave him something he’d searched his whole life for.

  Peace. Contentment. True joy.

  But before he could think of a future, of children with Olivia, he had to settle the past. He couldn’t give her the love and commitment she needed with his demons still haunting him. He still had so many doubts and unanswered questions holding him back, and he wouldn’t give Olivia less than his best.

  He had to redeem himself for his mistakes, earn his right to love her. He had to find out what happened to his mother, had to unlock the doors to his history that he’d kept firmly locked for so long, shutting out the demons and pain of loss.

  His father was the key.

  Driven by the need for closure, a need for long-overdue peace, he headed upstairs to finish dressing and get the keys to his truck. He knew just the person he needed to see. He had questions for Hannah Russell, and he was finally ready to hear the answers. Lancing the wounds of his past made entering a blazing house seem like a day at the park.

  But Olivia was worth it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Reyn knocked on the motel room door where his mother’s best friend was living while her house was rebuilt. When Hannah Russell answered his knock, she didn’t seem surprised to see him.

  “I was wondering when you’d be by. I don’t suppose this is a social call either.”

  “No, ma’am. I need answers.”

  Hannah’s shoulders drooped, and she nodded her resignation. “So be it. Come on in.”

  Her apparent reluctance to talk stirred a fresh quiver of doubt in him, but he stepped inside and let his eyes adjust to the dim light.

  Sara slept in one of the double beds, and Reyn hesitated. “Maybe we should talk outside. I don’t want her to hear—”

  “It’s okay. She won’t hear. A freight train couldn’t wake her. School mornings are a real challenge at our house.” Hannah gave him a weak smile.

  Nervously wiping his damp palms on his jeans, Reyn sat on the corner of the second bed and met Hannah’s eyes. “I need to know about my mother. Can you think of any reason someone would want to kill her?”

  He prayed she’d give him something, some name other than his own father. But he knew he was grasping at straws.

  “There were always people who talked bad about her, gossiped about her because she had a child out of wedlock.”

  Another wave of guilt swept through him. His mother had endured so much for his sake.

  “Plenty of the wives in town were jealous simply ’cause she always drew the men’s eyes when she walked in a room. She was so pretty,” Hannah continued and sat on a stained, stuffed chair beside the bed. She sighed and shook her head. “They justified their feelings toward her by spreading rumors about her flirting with every man in town, trying to seduce their husbands. The talk hurt your mother, but she didn’t deny it or dignify the lies with a response.”

  “I remember the talk. Got in plenty of fights at school because of it.”

  Hannah gave him a melancholy smile. “I know. She worried about you. Hated the fact that you heard that kind of talk about her and felt you had to defend her. At the same time, it made her proud that you’d stick up for your family.” Hannah sighed. “God, she loved you. She’d have done anything for you.”

  A knot of emotion rose in his throat. He had to cough to loosen the stranglehold before he could speak. “Lou told Olivia and me that in high school my mother dated…your husband.”

  Hannah looked away, drawing a deep breath and straightening her spine. “She did. They were right serious too. I tried hard not to envy her, seein’ as how she was my friend and all. But I’d been in love with George forever, and all I could do was watch from the sidelines, so to speak. Then Claire got pregnant our senior year.” She turned a meaningful glance toward him. “With you.”

  A current of apprehension flowed through him. They were getting close to the truths he’d avoided for years. “And?” he prompted when she hesitated.

  “And George broke up with her. He wouldn’t even speak her name. Asked me out to spite her.” Hannah furrowed her brow. “I jumped at the chance, even though I really should have had more compassion for Claire’s feelings, but…funny thing was, she encouraged me to go after George. Said she wanted me…and George…to be happy. I got pregnant with Billy a few months later, and George offered to marry me, to give our baby a name.”

  A strange niggling left Reyn feeling off balance. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but…why did he marry you when you got pregnant an
d not my mom when she did?”

  “I offered, but she turned me down.”

  Reyn jerked his head toward the door. He’d been so involved in Hannah’s story that he’d not heard George come in. Hannah blanched, telling Reyn she hadn’t noticed her husband either.

  “You never told me that.” Hurt colored Hannah’s tone.

  “Water under the bridge now.” George strode into the room, scowling at Reyn. “Why don’t you get to the question you came to ask and get on out of here, boy. You want to know if I’m your daddy, don’t you? Or maybe you think I killed your mama ’cause of some old grudge or lovers’ spat?”

  Hannah gasped and pressed shaky fingers to her lips. “Did you, George? Oh, God…did you kill Claire?”

  He turned his glare on Hannah. “No, damn it.” He faced Reyn again. “No on both counts. I ain’t your daddy ’cause I never slept with your mama. But she was givin’ it to someone, ’cause she got knocked up while we were datin’. Still, I loved her and was willin’ to marry her and give the baby a name, even if the kid weren’t mine.”

  A mixture of relief and frustration swirled through Reyn. He eyed the older man with a cautious gaze. “Then who is my father?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me.” George swiveled his head toward Hannah.

  “But…but I always assumed…” Hannah bit her bottom lip, and a soft, sad noise escaped her throat.

  “You thought he was mine?” George asked. “So did everyone else in town, I suppose. Guess that’s how Reyn’s real daddy got away with his secret.”

  Hannah nodded meekly. “Claire never told me who Reyn’s father was, and I never asked, ’cause I thought…well, it was just something we let lie, seein’ as I thought my husband…” She huffed and rubbed her temple. “I’m sorry, Reyn. If I knew I’d tell you, but she protected her secret so well. Because of you. She didn’t want you subjected to any more town gossip or comparisons or…or you to know which man in this town had…had not been willing to claim you. She thought it was better you believe he was just…gone.”

  “I’d wager she wasn’t talking ’cause the poor sap was married.” George stalked toward the back of the motel room.