Adding Up to Marriage

by Karen Templeton

  At Donna’s quick head shake, Jewel clamped shut her mouth. A second later the boys trooped back into the kitchen, Aaron declaring Gene’s miniature car collection totally awesome. Then, noticing Donna’s struggle to fit whatever she was keeping back into the fridge, he immediately jumped in to help, earning him one of Donna’s super-duper hugs.

  And the kid ate it up, which only further mangled Jewel’s heart.

  So it really wasn’t a surprise that, on the way back to the house, a weirdly silent Aaron sank down in the front seat, his head propped against the car window.

  “Whatcha thinking?” Jewel asked.

  He rustled in his seat, then scrubbed his palm over his knee. “Is Silas’s dad as cool as his mom?”

  Jewel smiled. “Depends on your definition of that, I suppose, but yeah. I like Gene a lot. Although after raising Silas and his brothers? Nothing gets past either one of ’em… Aaron?” He’d twisted around in his seat, muttering a bad word under his breath. “Is the sheriff tailing me or something?”

  “Not the sheriff,” he said, jerking back around and sliding down in his seat. When he finally looked over at her, he’d gone practically the same color as his gray hoodie. “My dad.”

  The silence—relative silence, anyway—when Silas returned to the house around four immediately tipped him off that something was very, very wrong. Over a jolt of apprehension, he walked into the living room, where he found an oddly subdued Jewel curled up on the sofa, watching the boys vroom-vroom their Tonka fleet on the floor in front of her.

  “Hey,” he said softly, which brought her face up to his, even as Tad jumped up to launch himself at Silas’s thighs.

  “Aaron’s daddy came and took him away!” he said, and Silas’s eyes shot back to Jewel’s.

  “You’re kidding?”

  Shaking her head, she unfolded herself to lower her feet to the floor, her fingers gripping the edge of the sofa as she gave him a tight, gonna-keep-it-together-if-it-kills-me smile. “Keith showed up right before lunch. They left almost immediately.”

  And if that wasn’t an extremely abridged version of events, he didn’t know what was. Especially when Tad chirped, “There was a lot of yelling, too! His daddy called Aaron a—”

  “Tadpole!” Jewel said, her face red as a radish, at which point Silas—who was jumping to conclusions about Aaron’s father faster than a grasshopper ahead of a wildfire—dragged out his phone and asked Mrs. Maple if she wouldn’t mind a couple little visitors for a few minutes.

  When he returned from hauling his scowling, protesting sons to the neighbor’s, Jewel was still perched where he’d left her, only now her arms were folded tightly across her middle as she stared blankly across the room. “Just when I think things can’t get worse,” she whispered, not looking at Silas, “they do.”

  “Unfortunately, a feeling I know all too well,” he said gently. “What happened?”

  “It was horrible,” she said in a tiny voice. “K-Keith pulled up behind us and jumped out of his car, practically dragging Aaron out of mine and lighting into him right there in the driveway. It all happened so fast, I barely had a chance to get Tad inside. And even after I did, Keith was so loud I could hear him through the windows calling his own son an idiot, saying he’d be s-sorry he’d ever pulled a stunt like this….”

  On a sob, she buried her face in her hands, and Silas was across the room in three strides to pull her into his arms, covering her fisted hands on his chest with one of his own. “Then Aaron stormed inside to get his stuff…. and ohmigod, the look he gave me, Silas! And I couldn’t do a blessed thing to h-help him!”

  For a moment Silas shut his eyes, riding out the breath-stealing sense of déjà-vu.

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I never had a chance. And for Tad’s sake I didn’t want to make an even b-bigger deal out of it than it was.”

  His youngest son had told him, on the way to Mrs. Maple’s, how Jewel had taken care of them “like everything was okay,” after Aaron had gone. That she’d made lunch and played with him, helped him practice his letters and numbers, even taken him and Ollie out for a short bike ride when Ollie got home from school. Meaning, for four hours she’d pretended things were perfectly normal when she was obviously a wreck inside.

  In contrast, Amy had called him in hysterics over every minor crisis. And how often had Ollie met him at the door with “Mommy cried because the baby got powder all over us,” or “Mommy got mad because I tried to get some milk and spilled it all over”? The list of Things That Set Mommy Off was seemingly endless.

  This gal, though, was clearly built of sterner stuff. No wussy little bunny rabbit here, boy, Silas thought with a small smile, then planted a brief kiss on her head without any thought at all. Jewel stiffened, then bounced up from the couch and hotfooted it to the kitchen.

  “Lord, I must look a sight,” she said, ripping a paper towel off the roller by the sink and dampening it under a stream of water before removing her glasses to press the wet wad to each eye in turn.

  “You look fine,” Silas said, getting to his feet and crossing to the breakfast bar, suddenly realizing how huge her eyes were without her glasses. How she averted those eyes, like there was something more. Something she wasn’t telling him. Sliding onto a stool, Silas folded his hands in front of him. “Now tell me the parts you left out.”

  She lowered the paper towel, gawking. “What makes you think there’s more?”

  “Call it a hunch, okay?” he said, figuring a little irritation in his voice might get the point across, that he cared.

  And no, he had no idea where, if anywhere, he was going with that. The future would take care of itself, as the future had been doing forever. But right now the only thing that mattered was that Jewel Jasper knew he gave a damn about her.

  That somebody did.

  “But Mrs. M—”

  “Is fine. The boys are fine. You’re not. So you may as well start talking because I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her heart knocking against her ribs, Jewel did the rabbit-in-the-hunter’s-sights thing with Silas, having no earthly idea what the heck had just happened.

  Until she came to her senses and realized, Oh, right—that would be pity, got it, except then Silas’s eyes went all squinchy and suspicious behind his glasses as if he was reading her mind and didn’t like what he saw, so she amended pity to compassion, which was only a higher-falutin way of saying feeling sorry for.

  Which obviously accounted for all that huggy stuff on his sofa.

  Not to mention the kiss on her head.

  Then she did a whole-body shiver which served to shake loose any inclination to read anything else into the hugs and the kiss, as Silas said, “So how did Keith find Aaron, anyway?”

  Deep breath time. Letting him think she was slightly spacey was one thing, coming across as a complete wimp something else entirely.

  “Apparently through that GPS thing on Aaron’s phone. So he really had known where he was all the time.” Spying the still-cooling chocolate chip cookies she and the boys had baked earlier, she grabbed a spatula, slid a half dozen onto a plate and set it in front of Silas before taking one herself. “He said he’d half thought of ‘letting the boy rot’—his words—then changed his mind. What makes me sick, though, is that he obviously hadn’t come because he was worried about Aaron, he was just mad. Mad that Aaron had pulled one over on him, mad that he’d look like a loser who couldn’t control his own son. Then…”

  Shaking her head, she lowered the nibbled cookie to the bare counter, then dusted off her hands.

  “Finish, Jewel. And I don’t mean the cookie.”

  Her breath felt like it was scraping her lungs. “When Aaron came in to get his things, Keith did, too. Only as far as the entryway, but when he saw me…he said some pretty nasty things.”

  “Nasty…how?”

  Jewel had already learned, the softer Silas’s voice, the tighter rein he was trying to keep on his temper. And this was as sof
t as she’d ever heard it.

  “For one thing, that I’d ‘stolen’ Aaron from him when Keith and my mother were married, and that damned if he was gonna let it happen again. Then he said…” Her eyes filled; she refused to let them spill over. “That we can’t talk to each other anymore.”

  Her brows flew up when Silas let out a laugh. “And exactly how does Keith think he’s going to enforce that? Unless he somehow makes sure the kid never has access to a phone or computer ever again—”

  “Silas, you don’t understand…” Jewel swallowed down the bile trying to rise in her throat. “Keith accused me of…of having an inappropriate relationship with his son.”

  Never in her life had she seen a man look more shocked. And then, more furious. “When you were children?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Because, what? He’d crawl into bed with you when he was scared? That’s demented, Jewel. That he would even think that, I mean. You…” He gave his head a hard shake like he was trying to dislodge the words from his skull, before meeting her gaze again. “It’s a damn good thing I wasn’t here, or I would’ve knocked the creep clear into next week. You would never hurt a child! Or anybody else, for that matter.”

  Jewel felt something inside her stretch. Hard. To the point of hurting. “Thank you, but…isn’t that a leap of faith? I mean, you don’t really know me.”

  His gaze seared hers. “I know enough,” he said quietly, then banged his hand on the counter. “For God’s sake—does the man have a screw loose? Did you tell him Aaron didn’t even stay here last night?”

  “Aaron did himself. Keith didn’t believe him. Or chose not to. But he said if I knew what was good for me I’d never contact Aaron again.”

  One side of Silas’s mouth pulled up. “And if he’s so all-fired convinced you’re some kind of monster, why hasn’t he said something before?”

  Jewel felt her forehead pinch. “Because he has no proof?”

  “Exactly. There’s no there, there, honey. And unless Aaron corroborates his father’s accusations—”

  “True or not, if Keith made a stink it could cost me my career.” Jewel picked up her cookie, took a tiny bite, put it down again. No solace in still-warm chocolate chips this time. “I’m only grateful it didn’t last long. Tad—”

  “Will be fine.” The gentleness in Silas’s voice nearly did her in. “He’s a Garrett, remember? And anyway, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Maybe not, but I’ve already been accused of screwing up one kid. Don’t need any more traumas on my conscience, thank you.”

  A moment or two slipped by before Silas went to the fridge for a carton of milk. He held it up, offering; when she nodded, he pulled two glasses out of the cupboard, poured milk into both, then handed her one. “I’m guessing,” he said carefully as he returned to his seat, “you didn’t see that side of Keith before?”

  Yeah, there was that. Jewel took a bigger bite of cookie, washing it down with three large swallows of milk. At Silas’s slight smile, she frowned. He pointed to her mouth. “Mustache.”

  “Oh.” She grabbed the same wet towel from before and cleaned herself up, grateful for the break in the conversation to collect her thoughts. Not to mention tell her fluttering stomach to shut the bleep up.

  “Didn’t see it, or didn’t want to?” she said at last, then shrugged. “He wasn’t around all that much. But when he was…” The glass set on the counter, she skated her finger around and around the rim. “He was someone else for my mother to lean on instead of me. So I convinced myself I loved him. Only now…” She let out a pitiful little laugh. “Now I’m wondering if I’d confused love with gratitude. And if I was…then I guess I was living in as much of a dream world as my mother.”

  “Oh, honey…” Silas walked over and pulled her close. And damned if she didn’t settle right in like she belonged there, even if this was only a big brother kind of hug.

  Which was probably why she totally didn’t see the kiss coming. At all. Seriously, when Silas pulled back and smiled down at her she figured that’s all it was going to be. A smile.

  Um, no.

  And, my, oh, my, did the man kiss like he knew what kissing was supposed to be all about, slow and sweet and tender, his hands carefully cradling her jaw, his lips incredibly soft. Firm. Perfect. And anybody who says that slow and sweet and tender can’t get a girl’s jets going needs their head examined, because Jewel was here to tell anybody who cared to listen that after thirty seconds she was ready to rip her clothes off. Or his, didn’t matter.

  Except, of course, everybody’s clothes stayed put because there were problems to solve and kids to be fetched and whatnot, so Silas let her go, returning to the plate of cookies with his glass of milk—

  Hol-y mackerel.

  “Um…Silas…?”

  He put up one hand, looking a little sheepish. “Don’t ask. Because I couldn’t give you a coherent answer if I tried.”

  Well, that explains a lot. Not.

  “You can’t seriously be attracted to me?”

  His brows dipped. “You did not just say that.”

  “Didn’t want to assume.”

  For a split second a smile played around his mouth. Then he said, “Did I offend you?”

  “What? No—!”

  “Good. Because I could’ve sworn you kissed me back.”

  “You caught me off guard, I didn’t have any choice.”

  “So…I did offend you.”

  “You surprised me, Silas. I kissed you back because you’re a good kisser, and it was—” incredible “—nice, and it’s been a long time since—” anybody gave a damn “—I locked lips with anybody, either. But—” she huffed out a breath “—but it was weird.”

  “Weird?”

  “Not icky weird, just…you-and-me weird. Not to mention situation…ally weird. I mean, really. Right?”

  Please agree, please agree, please agree, she inwardly begged, as the full impact of her reaction to that one little kiss whomped her upside the head, shoving her even closer to the same danged trap that’d snagged her mother umpteen million times.

  Because you know what? Right now it was real tempting to let Silas take over, to walk back into that warm, solid embrace and never come out again. To not only let him take care of her, but—and here was the trap part—believe that it would actually last. Except, how many times had that little scenario worked for her mother? That’s right—exactly zero. So what was the freaking point?

  Fortunately, while she was trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding like a total nitwit, Silas quietly said, “Don’t read more into it than what it was. It was just…one of those impulse things. Forget it ever happened, okay?”

  It took Jewel a second or two to identify the odd, sharp pain in her midsection as letdown. When, you know, it should have been relief? “Of course!” she said, her eagerness sounding hideously lame even to her own ears. “Impulse, got it.” She gave him a thumb’s up, then shoved her hands into her back pockets. “Friends?”

  Silas gave her a curious look, then smiled. “Sure,” and Jewel grabbed the opportunity to swing the conversation back to a topic guaranteed to wipe the kiss from both their minds.

  “For what it’s worth, after what happened today I understand more than ever how you feel about the boys. I can’t imagine how awful it must’ve been having their mom die in that car crash.”

  Silas’s gaze stroked hers for a long moment, before, his cookie finished, he brushed off his hands, then fisted his hand over his mouth before clearing his throat, as though weighing whether or not to say what he was thinking. “No, what was awful was having no earthly idea where they were for a solid week before that.”

  Jewel’s stomach turned. “What?”

  Silas met her gaze. “I had primary custody. Amy had them every other weekend.” He removed his glasses to rub his eyelids, looking ten years older when he put them back on. “Except one Sunday she didn’t bring them back.”

  “Oh, God, Sil
as…what a nightmare.”

  “Yeah,” he said flatly, then rubbed his palm along his jaw before folding his arms across his chest. “And since she was their mother the local police didn’t seem to take it seriously. Far as they were concerned I was overreacting, that when she got tired of going it alone—or needed money—she’d show up, I should just sit tight.”

  “That’s outrageous. She’d kidnapped them!”

  Another tight smile stretched across his face. “And yet, I was overreacting. Go figure.” He sighed. “Then about a week later, sheriff calls me. Amy’d skidded on some ice on a back road outside Farmington, slammed into a cement guard rail. She wasn’t wearing her seat belt. Thank God the boys were.”

  It took a moment. “They…the babies were in the car with her?”

  “Yeah.”

  On a soft moan, Jewel went to him, threading her arms around his ribs from behind and laying her cheek against his back. His heart beating steadily, reassuringly against her ear, he laid his hand over both of hers. And yeah, she knew she was slipping right back into dangerous territory, but them’s the breaks.

  “The boys…” His back expanded with his breath. “They’ll always come first.”

  Jewel released him, moving around to see his face, wanting so bad to cup her hands around that face, smooth away those worry lines, she could hardly stand it. Instead, she curled her fingers around his and squeezed.

  “Of course they will,” she said softly, looking into those sweet, steady eyes and feeling scarily like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. “Thank you for telling me.”

  Nodding, he slid off the stool. “Guess I better go rescue them, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she said, watching him go, thanking her lucky stars she’d had the good sense not to mistake rogue kisses and longing glances for something more than they were, because it was perfectly obvious Silas was no more in the market for a new Mrs. Garrett than he had been before. So, good news—she could tumble down that rabbit hole from now ’til Doomsday but she’d never hit bottom…because Silas wasn’t gonna let her.