Owen's Best Intentions (Smoky Mountains, Tn. #2)

by Anna Adams

  “I’m not doing that. Look at your arm, and be reasonable.”

  “Ben and I can handle whatever he needs. I can still make his dinner one-handed, and he takes his own shower or bath. I’ll be there with him.”

  She didn’t answer at first. She swallowed so hard, he saw the muscles in her throat move. “Okay, but call me if you need help. Or have Ben call.”

  “What do you think is going to happen? I’m not helpless.” He suddenly remembered her suspicions about his painkiller of choice, and resentment flooded him. “Or are you thinking I’m going to drink? I won’t self-medicate, and I’d never put Ben at risk.”

  “Hold on, Owen. I didn’t think that. If you won’t take the prescription your brother wanted to give you, why would I assume you’ll drink?”

  “I don’t know how you think, Lilah. The past four years prove that.” Her kindness today made his resentment of the past more difficult to handle. Combined with his physical pain, his anger pushed hard and left him with an urge to lash out.

  “You don’t have to know what or how I think. We’re just two people caring for a child we made together, but we have no deeper connection.”

  They were both playing a game. Ducking and weaving to avoid each other. Trying to understand her had turned him into an amateur psychologist. After all, he was so good at dealing with his own problems.

  “You’re afraid,” he said.

  “If I were afraid, I wouldn’t have survived after the abduction.”

  “You’re capable and responsible enough to run your family’s store. I investigated after you came here. I know how successful you’ve been. You’re a good mom to Ben, except you wrap him in a cocoon he’s constantly trying to escape. You pretend you’re over what happened to you, but you’re terrified it could happen to Ben. That’s not healthy, Lilah.”

  “It’s a good thing we’re almost to your place, or you might end up walking.”

  “If we’d kept matters business all those years ago, neither of us would have had to consider we made mistakes.” Like they should be doing now.

  “You don’t know anything about me. You’ve forced me to let my son live with you. I don’t like feeling separated from him just because you have to feel you’re in charge. You can’t make all these other assumptions based on our unnatural relationship.”

  “Ben’s my son, too.”

  Those four words. Everything came back to the two of them having an equal right to that sweet little boy who loved them both.

  “We’re at an impasse.” She brushed at a strand of hair blowing across her forehead from the car’s vent. “You want me to pretend I’m okay with the pretend life I’m living here, but I don’t want to share Ben. It’s just been the two of us all his life. And every time he’s alone with one of your family, he gets into trouble. Tell me I’m wrong about that.”

  “He’s experiencing freedom he’s never had. Of course he’s going to get scraped up or bruised now and then.”

  “Scrapes and bruises are one thing. But nearly falling into an icy stream and shooting off a nail gun are much more serious. Ben could have ended up really hurt.”

  “I’m not saying you’re wrong about the nail gun, but you make me feel as if I’m no different from that criminal who took you.”

  Her breath hissed through her teeth. “I hate you for even saying that. I’ve worked hard not to see that animal in every man I meet. If I’d ever thought that about you, I wouldn’t have come near you.”

  Outrage and fear filled her voice, and it ricocheted around him, making him realize how cruel he’d been. She did make him feel like her abductor, but that man had scarred her forever and should have been off-limits for any argument.

  “I’m sorry, Lilah. Why don’t you let me out?” Before he made everything worse.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not putting you out on the side of the road.”

  He almost insisted, but the intense pain in his arm reminded him he was already exhausted, and he was being an idiot, running from his own bad behavior, instead of just apologizing.

  When she reached his cabin, he got out of the car, thanking anyone who could hear his silent gratitude that he’d broken his left arm and could still use his right to open doors and fend for himself.

  “I’ll go get Ben from your mom’s and bring him back,” she said, half out of the car.

  “Thanks.” He leaned against the hood to steady himself. “Lilah?”

  She stared at him, her gaze bleak.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it more than he’d meant anything he’d said to her since he’d found her again.

  It might have been the cold air that made her eyes water. She bit her lip, nodded and got back in the car.

  * * *

  LILAH SHUT HER DOOR and turned the car around, hearing gravel spew behind her. She glanced back at Owen, who remained stone still.

  Tears ran down her face. She didn’t care.

  She only cared for Ben. Her love for him, savage, bottomless, as protective as every mother’s, made her vulnerable. She’d been reckless and unafraid when she met Owen. The worst had already happened to her, so why worry?

  And then she’d had Ben. The worst would be something happening to him.

  Owen couldn’t have been plainer about his opinion of her now. She hovered. She worried. He wasn’t that kind of parent, and she was tired of him and his family judging her while they kept putting Ben at risk.

  But that simple “I’m sorry.” And the look on his face. As if pain had scrubbed him clean, and he couldn’t hide anything. He had been sorry he’d brought up the vicious pig who’d tried to destroy her when she was five years old.

  For the first time, they’d shared a truly honest moment, and that connection made her vulnerable. Owen was Ben’s father, and she’d truly loved him. She’d missed him, longed for him, needed him.

  And there had been moments, while she was pregnant, and even after Ben’s birth, when she’d wanted to get in touch with him and tell him the truth. She’d thought that maybe their beautiful son could have made the difference to Owen.

  He did seem to be changing since they’d been here. Until tonight, on that drive home.

  At Suzannah’s inn, Lilah sat in the car, rubbing her eyes until the tears finally dried. She switched on the car light and glared at her own owlish gaze. A few minutes’ quick work with makeup fixed her up.

  She went through the porch door into the dining room. Suzannah, spreading fresh cloths on the tables, stopped. “Honey, is my son all right?”

  Lilah met Suzannah’s frightened gaze and almost cried again. “He broke his arm, but Noah set it. He’s fine.”

  “Where is he?”

  “At the cabin. I came to get Ben, and take him home—I mean—over there.”

  Suzannah tucked the tablecloth she was holding against her belly. “You argued? He never was good at handling pain. Once, he broke his ankle playing football—he was terrible at the sport, but his father insisted—I never knew Owen had such a temper. He was always a quiet boy, but everything he’d held inside for years came busting out of him when I tried to help him while he was wearing that cast.”

  Lilah brushed over the truth. “He’s testy, but he’s probably suffering.”

  “Don’t worry. If he can’t take care of Ben, he’ll let us know. That boy cuts to the chase for Owen. Since Ben’s been here, he’s stopped trying to pretend everything’s all right.”

  It was a night of firsts. Lilah felt something in common with Suzannah. “You think so? He has a lot of pride.”

  “But he loves that boy. He wouldn’t do anything that might hurt Ben.” Suzannah narrowed her gaze at Lilah, as well. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” Lilah refused to let herself back away, but the moment of bonding evaporated, and she was
uncomfortable with Suzannah’s need to nurture.

  “You could ask him to let Ben stay here.”

  “I did, and he said no. You both take it for granted he has the right to choose,” Lilah said, breaking the détente.

  Suzannah unfolded the cloth she was holding and threw it over the table. “I’m trying really hard not to get in the middle of whatever’s going on between you. I love Ben. You love him, and so does Owen. We all love Ben. We’ll all do what’s best for him.”

  “You can’t believe Owen is best for him. Not really. You see him dragging in here, looking as if he hasn’t slept more than a couple of hours a night. You know what keeps him awake.”

  “I do know. I see his lights on in the cabin until late at night. I see him wandering the farm in the spring and summer. But I know when he’s been drinking, and he hasn’t since before Thanksgiving.”

  “How long before?”

  Suzannah didn’t answer.

  “He told me, Suzannah. A few weeks. It’s not over. He’s just trying hard again. He’s tried over and over to stay away from alcohol, but he always fails.”

  “He’s been under a lot of stress because he knows if he drinks, he’ll lose the clinic contract. And then, add the stress of finding out about Ben.” Suzannah lifted her chin. “But he still hasn’t given in. He still hasn’t taken a drink.”

  “He forced me to come down here.”

  “I know.” Suzannah wadded the tablecloth in her hands. “He treated you horribly, but I think he didn’t believe you’d bring Ben on your own, and he was desperate.”

  “That makes it all right?”

  Suzannah shook her head. “That makes it a bad decision on his part after he learned you’d been hiding his child from him.”

  “Because I thought he posed a danger to my son. I’m tired of explaining myself, and I’d think you, of all people, could understand my fear.”

  “I wasn’t a good mother. My children suffered because of me. I wish I’d been as strong as you with their father, but I know Owen. He’s not Odell.”

  “Now, but if he drinks again? If he keeps drinking? Those are my fears, and not even Owen can honestly know for sure they’ll never become fact.”

  “I believe my son loves his child, and he’s trying hard to be a good man. And a good father.”

  What was wrong with this family? “I’ll go get Ben.”

  “I’ve made you angry. If you don’t mind my help, Lilah, I’ll go over tonight and check on them before Owen goes to bed.”

  Lilah was tempted. Every instinct urged her to accept Suzannah’s suggestion, but Owen’s accusations in the car replayed in her head. “He’d know you offered,” she said. “I have to be sure he’ll ask for help with Ben if he needs us.”

  “Good girl.” Suzannah took a deep breath as soon as she said the words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that in a condescending way. I know you must be desperate to keep your son out of that little cabin and safe by your side. It’s just that Owen is just as desperate to keep Ben with him, and neither of you is really wrong.”

  Lilah stared at Suzannah. Being called a good girl would normally offend her, but she believed Suzannah meant it as a compliment. She let it go and headed for the stairs. “Is Ben with Celia?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “Last time I saw them both.”

  Again, that crazy attitude of “who really knows?” She climbed the main stairs and went down the back hall to Celia’s room, hearing Ben vrooming a car.

  Celia laughed. “You ruined my beauty shop, buddy.”

  “I don’t need a beauty shop in my town.”

  “Yeah. You’re right.”

  They’d built a small village out of cars and tracks and little houses that Celia must have dug out of the treasures she’d kept from her own childhood. Owen’s sister saw Lilah first and clambered to her feet.

  “Hey,” she said. “How’s Owen?”

  Ben jumped up and ran to Lilah, stumbling over his cars and his shoes, which he’d taken off and dropped on Celia’s floor.

  “He’s fine.” Lilah scooped her son into her arms, finding comfort in his warm, sturdy hug. “Fine,” she said again, looking into his worried eyes, ice blue like Owen’s and all his siblings’. “He has an excellent cast, and I have a marker. You can draw on it. Ready to go over to the cabin?”

  She should get an academy award.

  “Ready.” He wriggled to get down, and she set him on the floor. He ran immediately to his shoes.

  “Lilah,” Celia said, “I’m sorry about earlier. I only looked away for a minute.”

  For pity’s sake, the common theme was going to drive her insane.

  “Celia has a boyfriend,” Ben said, as if a boyfriend and poisonous insect were the same kind of thing. “She was talking all smoochy to him.” He grinned up at Lilah. “Grandma said that word. Smoochy.” He laughed like a teenager hearing an off-color joke. “Smoochy.”

  “Sorry,” Celia said again, with regret that seemed sincere. “I really am.”

  “Everyone in this household has lost him at some point,” Lilah said. “I’m getting used to it.”

  “I mean it, Lilah. I’ll be more careful.”

  “I guess you will. Chad is.”

  “You don’t like us much,” Celia said.

  “Not true. I just love my son.”

  “I love you, too, Mommy.” He clomped over in his untied shoes for a hug. Lilah hugged him and reached for his laces, but he was off again, running back to Owen’s sister.

  “Love you, too, Auntie.” He grabbed her in a stranglehold, and she laughed over his shoulder.

  “How lucky am I?” she asked, hugging right back. “You’re my favorite boy in the whole world.”

  “Except for your boyfriend.”

  “Oh, no. I like you even better than him.” Celia sat back to tie first one shoe and then the other. “Boyfriends come and go. Nephews are forever, buddy, so you and I are always going to be best friends.”

  “Best friends,” he said, laughing as if he liked that. “Auntie Celia is my best friend, Mommy.”

  Celia looked up, her face alight with unfeigned love as she hugged Ben close to her again. “But I’m not smoochy, and I never talk smoochy. You remember that, skunk.”

  He giggled from deep in his chest and hugged his aunt again. Lilah melted a little. Her boy had owned her heart since before he was born. “Come on, buddy.” She put out her hand. “Own’s waiting for you.”

  Celia laughed at the name Ben had given her brother. “See you tomorrow,” she said.

  “Night.” Ben paused to wave with enthusiasm from the bedroom door. “Don’t eat pancakes before Own brings me.”

  “I won’t.”

  Ben ran down the hall toward the stairs. Holding the rail, he carefully made his way down. “Mommy, can Auntie Celia come visit us at home?”

  “Sure. If she wants to.”

  “I’ll ask her.”

  Suzannah was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with Ben’s coat. “Night, big guy,” she said. “See you in the morning, first thing. Take care of your daddy.”

  “Own is fine.” He glanced up at Lilah, whose heart broke at her baby’s silent plea for reassurance.

  “Perfectly,” Lilah said, taking his coat from his grandmother and helping him put it on, “except for that cast. Wait until you see it, Ben. It’s a pretty shade of green. I voted for purple.”

  “See you in a while, Lilah.” Suzannah hugged Ben, and Lilah could almost imagine Owen in Ben’s place until she remembered Suzannah hadn’t been like this when he was little. Lilah wanted to ask how she could have neglected her little boy, but it wasn’t her business. It would never be.

  Ben climbed into his car seat, and she buckled it before she drove back to the cabin. Owen wa
s waiting at the door. He lifted Ben with one arm, and they hugged each other, showing their love without words. Ben had cared for Owen as if he knew from the start he was his father, and Owen had loved Ben from the moment he knew he had a son. She was sure of that.

  Their feelings for each other were uncomplicated and all too real.

  “It’s cold out here,” Lilah said, shivering. “Let’s go in.”

  Owen set Ben down, but their son clung to his father’s leg. “I didn’t hurt you, Own?”

  “I fell, Ben. It had nothing to do with you. Did you eat dinner with Grandma?”

  “Grilled cheese and milk from the goats.”

  “Goat’s milk?” For some reason, that surprised Lilah.

  “Perfectly safe,” Owen said.

  “I’m just surprised he liked it.”

  “And then we had cake. Chocolate.” Ben rubbed his belly. “I like cake, Own.”

  “So do I. I wish your mom had brought some home.”

  “I could go get you a slice,” Lilah said.

  Owen grinned at her, as if their earlier argument had never happened. “No, thanks, but I do think I could use your help with bath time.” He eased the green cast upward in his sling. “Not sure I’d manage to keep this dry.”

  “Are you feeling all right?” His face was paler since she’d left him.

  “I’m good,” Owen said with a faint look of surprise.

  She realized she was worried about him. Eyeing her as if he could read the emotions unsettling her, he patted the back of Ben’s head, his large hand almost covering it. “This guy’s already late for bed.”

  Lilah gathered herself. “Come on, buddy. Let’s visit the bathtub.”

  “Shower, Mommy.” He put up his hand to take hers, pausing only for a jaw-breaking yawn. They climbed the stairs together, and she helped him into the shower. He told her to go away. He was growing up, her boy.

  “I’ll bring your jammies and leave them on the counter,” she said.

  “Okay. Shut the door.”

  As she gathered Ben’s pajamas, she ignored a slight compulsion to run downstairs and check on Owen. The bathroom billowed steam as she slipped his jammies on to the counter and glanced at the shower curtain. Even in a bath, Ben tended to fling water, but the curtain was closed, and Ben was chatting with one of his toys.