A Family Man

by Mindy Neff

  She looked at her father-in-law, waiting for him to answer, keeping a tenuous hold on the anger simmering just below the surface of her carefully masked outrage.

  “We had a whole mess of people tested,” Leroy hedged, clearly uneasy.

  “But not me.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” Chase demanded.

  “Inez was dead set against it.”

  “What?” Josie came up out of the chair, too stunned to sit.

  Leroy looked at her with genuine sorrow. “I don’t know if I was tryin’ to atone to the woman or what, but to my bitter regret, I bowed to Inez’s histrionics and demands.”

  “How could you?” Josie paced away from the bed, distancing herself from the horror of the possibility of Bobby’s wasted death.

  “You know as well as I that Bobby had a rare type of bone marrow. Inez insisted that if they couldn’t find a match in the nationwide computers, a half brother would hardly be a possibility.”

  Josie’s already low opinion of her mother-in-law died a final death. As did her opinion of Leroy. Her hands shook and her voice trembled, her stomach twisted tighter than a bobbin of silk thread. Who were these people? No one had a right to play God with another person’s life. Bobby’s life.

  “I was Bobby’s wife. That should have been my decision. Not Inez’s. Or yours, Leroy. You should have told me.”

  Chase stood up, his gaze on Josie. She was a tough lady. The way her hands fisted at her sides told him she was making every effort to fight her emotions. But the single tear that slipped from the corner of her eye betrayed her.

  He didn’t care how it looked to anyone. Josie needed a pair of arms around her. Moving to her side, he gently touched her shoulder, then gathered her close. He admired her devotion to the brother he’d never known. He was strong enough not to let her past feelings for another man—a good man—bother him now.

  They stood together for a moment, reliving a loss that might have been prevented.

  Chase pitied Inez, a frigid woman who’d refused to bend—even at the expense of her son’s life. He also pitied Leroy. The almighty dollar and the lure of power had turned him into a lonely old man. Leroy had made the only choices he could based on who he was.

  His father’s words echoed in his mind, and suddenly Chase felt a spreading sense of peace. Josie, too, could benefit from those words.

  “Regrets only muddy things up, sugar. What’s done, can’t be undone. Now’s the time for forgiveness.” He placed a gentle kiss against her temple, then went once more to stand by Leroy’s bed.

  “I can’t be the son you lost, sir, which seems to be your motive behind putting me in your will. The choices you made thirty-two years ago were right for you…and as it turns out, they were pretty damn good for me, too. James Fowler’s been the only father I’ve known. I could never dishonor or discount his love by replacing his name with yours. I’d just as soon not have any bad feelings between the two of us, though. You’re tough as nails, and I don’t think you’re quite ready to meet your maker. Maybe sometime soon we can establish a sort of friendship.”

  Leroy nodded. “I don’t suppose I deserve it, but that’d be good.”

  Josie had her back to them, her hands gripping her elbows as if she’d turned in on herself. On his way out the door, Chase stopped in front of her, placing his finger under her chin so she’d look at him.

  “Make your peace with him, sugar. You’re probably the one person in this world that he truly cares about.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  “Will you come to me, then?”

  Her green eyes pleaded for understanding. “I need some time, Chase. My whole world has suddenly shifted. I’ve got to make some sense of it.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  After Chase left, Josie took a walk around the gardens, trying to give herself some time, some balance. She didn’t trust herself to face Leroy just yet.

  She’d wanted Chase to see the good, gentle side of Leroy’s nature. Instead, she’d had a shocking glimpse of the controlling, arrogant side of her father-in-law. The side she’d so adamantly defended over the years as simply being his business personality, a front.

  It gave her one hell of a dose of reality.

  How long did she owe allegiance to a family—or a name—who didn’t think she was significant enough, even as Bobby’s wife, to make important decisions?

  There were no guarantees that Chase’s bone marrow would have been a match for Bobby, but even if there had been a remote possibility, it should have been considered.

  Chase had realized that. Even though he hadn’t known his brother, even though he had bad feelings toward the family, he wouldn’t have hesitated a second if there was a chance he could save a life.

  He was that type of man.

  He wasn’t shallow. He didn’t place money and social standing above love and loyalty. He’d proven that by openly showing pride in his adoptive father’s name.

  And that basic confidence so inherent in Chase was contagious, Josie realized.

  She thought back to how he made her feel when she was in his arms, as if she could be anyone she wanted, without the need to present a good front or worry about the opinions of others.

  Chase had been taught some good lessons in life. He had a capacity for love that a woman—or a little boy—would be fortunate to be the recipient of.

  She wanted to be on the receiving end of that love. By heavens, she deserved it. Just thinking the phrase gave her strength.

  For too long she’d stood in the shadows, worried over saying the right thing, doing the right thing, being good enough. It was a stupid, senseless, wimpy way to live. Money, reputation, a fancy name—what did it all mean?

  Nothing, she answered herself, coming to a sudden decision. Nothing at all without love.

  The step she was about to take was a heck of a gamble, but it felt right. First, though, she needed to clear the air with Leroy.

  She headed back inside the house with a great deal of purpose. Leroy seemed to sense the new, determined, confident air about her.

  “I can’t undo what I’ve done,” he said before she had a chance to speak.

  “No, you can’t. But perhaps you’ve done me a favor.”

  “How so?”

  “The decision you made about Bobby’s life wasn’t fair to me. But out of respect and love, I intend to afford you a courtesy you didn’t think to extend to me. You can’t make Chase come around to your way of thinking, so I imagine you’ll be making some changes in your wishes. To that end, there’s something else you ought to know.”

  “Missy, you can’t—”

  Josie held up her hand. “Listen to me, Leroy. Because if you don’t, you’re bound to hear about it from somebody else.” She took a deep breath. “J.T. is not Bobby’s child.”

  He seemed too stunned for speech. A shadow of the arrogant, lord-of-the-manor countenance swept his features. It was just the sort of judgmental, censoring reaction she’d worried over. Strangely enough, it didn’t have the impact she thought it would.

  “You stepped out on my son?”

  “Yes. In a manner of speaking.”

  “What the hell other manner is there, I’d like to know?”

  “Don’t try to intimidate me, Leroy. I’m past that. Besides, you’re not exactly in a position to throw stones.”

  They say that age mellows a person. It must be true, Josie thought, because Leroy let out a deep sigh and reached for her hand. “You’re right, sweet peach. It don’t matter no how. That boy’s still my grandson. Nobody’s got to know any different.”

  “You’re right. He is your grandson. But people are going to know. Leroy, J.T. is Chase’s son.”

  Several hours later, Josie pulled up in front of the newspaper office on main street. What she was about to do was a gift to Chase. Whether he wanted her in the bargain was up to him. The gift she wanted to give him came with no strings attached.

/>   By tomorrow morning the whole town, and anyone who cared to research it in the future, would know that Chase Lee Fowler was J.T.’s father.

  The office was noisy and smelled of paper and ink. Phones rang incessantly and computer keys clicked. Josie paused just inside the door and took a fortifying breath.

  She saw Gracie Jones seated at a cluttered desk in the back of the room. She’d gone to school with Gracie and she admired her, both as a woman and as a journalist.

  Five years ago, Gracie had lost her husband to cancer. Some speculated that his death had been premature and by his own hand—and that Gracie had assisted him. It had created quite a stir in town.

  Suddenly, the gamble Josie was about to take didn’t feel quite so risky. This woman had been through heartaches, suffered greatly through loss and dealt with nasty gossips. She was a woman who knew about sacrifices. If anybody could write Josie’s story like it ought to be written, Gracie would be the one.

  Josie stepped past the glass partition and stopped in front of Gracie’s desk. “Gracie?”

  Distracted, the other woman looked up. “Josie! It’s good to see you. What brings you to our chaotic newsroom?”

  She clutched her purse to her lap and slowly sat down. “I’ve got a story for you.”

  Gracie automatically picked up a pad and pencil. She was a beautiful woman with an uncanny knack of seeing not only the surface of a person or event, but the deep, hidden heart that would be missed by someone less intuitive. “What kind of story?” she asked gently.

  Josie thought about it for a moment. “I guess you could say it’s a human interest story….”

  Josie had tears in her eyes the next morning as she finished reading the newspaper. With her special brand of sensitivity, Gracie had handled the subject in a manner that was incredibly touching. In part—because of Leroy’s ill health—the article was a tribute to the Alexanders, an unfolding story about the founders of the town and their family successors. A history of sorts.

  The piece about Bobby’s bout with leukemia was especially poignant. Gracie gave an account of the desperate emotions of a dying man’s wife, and the beautiful sacrifice both Josie and Chase had made in order to give Bobby the child he so wanted.

  The article inferred that it was a mutual decision between the brother of a dying man and his brother’s wife.

  Although it wasn’t the way Josie had told the story to Gracie, the encounter had been romanticized as being planned.

  Gracie had labeled it an act of love.

  It was beautifully written. And so very touching.

  Josie swiped at the tears on her cheeks and got up to pour a cup of coffee. She was staring out the kitchen window when Chase’s truck pulled up the lane.

  He’d asked her to come to him—which she’d planned to do. So why was he here instead? Had he read the article? Lord, she wasn’t prepared.

  She looked down at her matte satin boxer pajamas. They were presentable enough, but still, she felt vulnerable, caught off guard. She wasn’t dressed and her hair was probably a mess. But it was too late to do anything about her appearance.

  Running her fingers through her unbound hair, Josie went to the door.

  Now that she was no longer burdened by a secret, she felt scared and nervous, as if she were seeing Chase for the first time. Her heart slammed up against her ribs and for some ridiculous reason, she was having trouble drawing a steady breath.

  He wore a pair of dark blue dress jeans and a white button-down shirt that hugged his masculine frame as if tailor-made. He didn’t look like a man who had any plans for spending a long day in the cockpit of a crop duster. He could have been dressed for gentle courting or hot seduction. In either case, the aggressive set of his shoulders told her he’d be a success at any course he chose.

  “Can I come in?” he asked.

  Josie realized she’d been clutching the edge of the door as if she were about to slam it shut. She stepped back and motioned him in. “Of course.”

  For some reason, she’d expected him to touch her, or at the very least, strike up a conversation. Callers normally stated their business right away. But Chase simply moved into the room ahead of her, not saying a word. He seemed unusually restless, like a man with a great weight on his mind. She saw him hesitate, then lift a framed picture of J.T. off the mantel. He studied the photograph then placed it back on the wood and turned to her.

  “Chase, I—”

  “Don’t talk, sugar. I’ve been rehearsing this pretty little speech in my head all morning and if I don’t get it out, I’m liable to go nuts.”

  Josie’s stomach gave an odd lurch. The intensity in his voice and eyes made her nervous. She pinched the edges of her pajama shorts in her fingers, worrying the silky fabric. She did as he asked and remained silent.

  “I told you I’d wait, give you some time, but I can’t. The truth of the matter is, I love you. I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

  He loved her? “Chase—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “Just listen. You could have met somebody after Bobby died, married him and he’d have simply been a stepfather to J.T. But because it’s me, because you know that I’m the boy’s father, it makes it a whole different crop of cotton for you.”

  She opened her mouth—at least to comment on his declaration of love—but closed it again as he just plowed forward.

  “Pride’s a fine thing, sugar, but it’s damned lonely. Marry me. Please. J.T.’s paternity will just be between me and you. I swear to God.”

  “No.”

  “Damn it, Josie. Can you stand there and tell me you don’t love me?”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “No, I can’t stand here and tell you I don’t love you. I do love you. With all my heart. I think I’ve loved you since that night at the motel when you said in that lazy drawl of yours, ‘Tell me what you want, sugar.’ You didn’t judge me, Chase, not then, not when you came to town and found out about us, and not now.”

  She hadn’t realized that her feet had carried her across the room. Without recalling how she’d gotten there, Josie found herself in front of Chase, her palm resting against the warmth of his chest radiating through his shirt.

  He raised his brow and a slow grin crossed his lips. “Well…I did have a few doubts in the beginning.”

  “But you asked your questions and accepted my answers.”

  His hand covered the back of hers against his chest. “Maybe because I wanted another opportunity to look at your lingerie.”

  Josie smiled. The way his eyes traveled over her scanty pajamas made her nipples pebble. They pressed against the thin satin in a prominent display of her emotions. “Do you really want to marry me? Because if this is just about J.T.—”

  He placed his finger against her lips. “God knows I love that little kid. But I love his mother, too.” The pad of his thumb slipped over her lips. “I want to see your sexy lingerie strewn around my bedroom, your perfume bottles lined up on my dresser. I want your face to be the first one I see in the morning and the last at night. So what do you say, sugar. Will you marry me?”

  The satin boxers created little barrier between them, especially since she was naked beneath the silky covering. She felt the press of his hips, the hard length of his arousal as he pulled her lower body against his. Had she not already made up her mind, this would have constituted unfair play.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  His head dipped as he claimed her lips. He wrapped his arms around her and held her with an overwhelmingly gentle strength that lifted her feet from the floor.

  Like lovers renewing their vows after a long separation, they tasted and touched and sighed out their pleasure. With her fingers tangled in his dark hair, she buried her face in his neck and placed soft, openmouthed kisses along his throat and earlobe and jaw. Traces of his cologne clung to her lips and tongue.

  Slowly, allowing her to savor every inch of friction, he set her back on her feet.


  “About J.T….” she began.

  “Shh,” he murmured. “It’s not important. My dad said a name’s just a few letters that make a sound when you say them. It’s what’s in the heart that counts.”

  Josie pulled back to look at him. “Your dad sounds like a wise man.”

  “He is. He even offered to plead my case with you.” His hands made soft sweeps along her ribs and the sides of her breasts, each pass pulling her satin top a little higher. “He figures I’m a pretty good catch.”

  “No need to do any pleading. J.T. and I both agree.” His fingers were at the edge of her pajama top, toying with the top button. Oh, how she loved his hands, his body, all the facets of him that made up the whole man. “J.T. is lucky to have you for a dad.”

  Something like sadness flickered in his eyes for a split instant. Josie placed her hands over his to stop their wandering. Could he think…?

  “Chase, did you by any chance read the paper this morning?”

  “Sugar, I’m trying my level best to figure out a way to get you in the bedroom and you want to talk about the news?”

  Josie disengaged herself from his arms and picked up the paper from the table. “I think you’d better read this.”

  One of his dark brows cocked, but he accepted the newspaper. Her heart pounded and her palms began to sweat. Would he view this as she’d intended? As a gift of her love? After all, her decision to go to the paper not only put her life in the limelight, it also bared Chase for public scrutiny.

  She watched him carefully, breath held.

  At last he looked up. His deep blue eyes were bright, filled with incredible tenderness and love.

  “Well?” she asked, the suspense nearly causing her to faint.

  He opened his arms and Josie stepped into them. With his lips pressed to her hair, he held her tightly.

  “I gotta tell you, sugar, when you set your mind to doing something, you do it in a big way.” He kissed her with a gentleness that nearly melted her bones. “You know we’re going to take some flak over this.”