"We live here, Jackson. How did you get here?" Emily asked him.
"I live here, too! Awesome! Hot damn, Emily, we live in the same place," he said.
"Jackson!" Tracey scolded.
"Well, Poppa Jack says hot damn all the time and you don't holler at him." Jackson stuck his lip out and pouted.
"My uncle says it, too," Emily nodded her head. "But Daddy says it's a big people word." She was serious for a minute, then broke into a wide grin. "Hey, we could play together since we live in the same place. You could come over to my apartment. Or we can play right here in the courtyard."
"Hey, Mom, can Emily ride to school with me today?" Jackson asked. "She can sit in the front seat with me and I can buckle us both in."
"Not today," Austin told him. "I don't get to take Emily to school very often this semester since I teach an early class. Today is special and I think I'll take her with me. But if you'd like to ride with us and it's all right with your mom, then that would be fine."
A nameless dread parked itself inside Tracey's heart and refused to budge. She had taken an irreversible step last night toward a new life—a life that would now include someone other than herself and Jackson. In a split second she knew that no matter how much she wanted to do the right thing, it would be the hardest thing she would ever do. She longed to grab Jackson by the hand, put him in the car and not stop driving until they were so far away she'd never have to share him again.
"What do you say, Trace?" Austin begged with his eyes.
"Trace?" Emily said. "Is your name Trace? Mine is too. Emily Trace Miller. Everyone thinks it's a funny name," she said. "Do people think your name is funny, too?"
"Well, my name's Tracey, but your daddy has always called me Trace," she explained, hesitating only slightly.
"Oh, has my daddy known you for a long time?" Emily was confused.
"Yes, he has," Tracey said simply.
"Well, my name is Jackson Nelson Walker, and that's my whole name," Jackson announced.
"That's awesome," Emily said. "My daddy's name is Austin Nelson Miller. I've got your mom's name and you got my dad's name. Jackson, come on, you can ride in the middle. If it's okay with your mom."
Austin raised an eyebrow.
"Okay," Tracey said cheerfully even though she wanted to cry. "I'll see you this afternoon, son. You and Emily have a nice day, now. I'll see you at school, Austin."
"Thanks, Mom," Jackson gave her a hug and ran off to the pick-up truck with Emily.
"Yeah, thanks, Trace," Austin said.
Classes filled the morning and Tracey didn't have plans for lunch so she picked up a tuna salad sandwich and a diet soda at a deli a couple of blocks south of the campus. She took it to her office, unwrapped the sandwich and twisted the top off the bottle of soda. She ate her lunch by the window and watched the students leisurely walking across campus as she tried to sort out her feelings.
Did she love Austin? That was a hard question. She'd loved Austin on the day she met him, and had once thought she'd love him forever. But that love had been destroyed. She would never know what it could have been, the blessings it might have brought, the tears that it could have caused, the joys that it would have doubled. The commitment and trust they'd once shared had vanished overnight six years ago, leaving only Jackson as a reminder of their love.
Jackson was a physical miniature of his father. It was amazing the teacher's aide didn't scream at Austin from across the room and declare she knew that Jackson was his son since he looked so much like him. But he resembled Tracey as well. He was soft hearted and kind, traits that she knew she possessed, as well as a hot temper and a quick wit.
"Penny for your thoughts," Austin said softly from the open doorway between their offices.
"Cost you more than that," she said without turning around. "I figured you'd be at lunch with one of those sweet young things who hang on your every word, or else one of those divorcées from the school who were panting after you at the party last week."
"I happen to prefer the red-haired vixen who has this office. She was pretty nice to me this mornin' and I wanted to spend my lunch time with her. I got an apple. Want part of it?" He drew up a chair beside her, leaned back and propped his feet on the windowsill.
"Nope, I'm having tuna salad," she said. "Did the kids behave?"
"Sure. Two's easier than one, actually. They entertained each other. She wants to see if he's got the same Star Wars stuff she has, and he wants to see what a Barbie doll looks like," Austin laughed. "He looks like me, doesn't he, Trace?"
"Yes, he does," she said. "Especially in those jeans and boots. He wants a silver belt buckle for his birthday. One with a J on it," she added.
"Would you mind if I bought it for him?" he asked. "That is, if you're goin' to tell him I'm his dad before his birthday."
"Seems like things are moving so fast," she said. "He'll be six a week from today. I thought I'd wait until after his birthday, so I could have one more with him when he was all mine and I didn't have to share him. But that's selfish, isn't it, Austin? I do want what's best for him."
"Tracey, let's take this slow and easy. If you want to wait until after his birthday, then you can wait. If you wouldn't mind, maybe we could go to supper on his birthday and Emily and I can give him his buckle."
"That would be nice," she agreed. "He asked his Poppa Jack for a pony. I don't know where my dad plans to keep it. His place isn't right for a pony and we wouldn't get up there often enough for Jackson to ride it very much," she rattled on.
"I told your dad he could keep the pony in Tom Bean with Maybelle, and Jackson could visit down there to ride it. That's up to you, too. You can discuss it with Jack when you call him later tonight."
"How did you know I was going to talk to my daddy tonight?" she asked curiously.
"Well, he said he hadn't told you about the pony yet. He was waiting for his grandson to do it for him. If I were in your shoes, I'd be about mad enough to chew up tenpenny nails and spit out staples, so I figured you might want to call him." Austin chuckled.
Tracey swiveled her chair around. "You two are really in cahoots, aren't you? Ever since you went and told him everything about you and me."
Austin couldn't keep a sexy grin off his face. "I think your father actually likes me, Trace. He said I had to be Jackson's daddy. He'd figured so all along, but you were too stubborn to tell him the truth back then even though he was madder'n hell. Said he knew we'd find each other some day and maybe things would work out." His grin got infuriatingly wider.
Tracey was annoyed. She'd been on her own too long to feel comfortable with her father and Austin suddenly taking over her life so casually. She wasn't sure she liked them talking behind her back, and her tone of voice made her annoyance clear. "Are things working out? I'm not so sure. Maybe I'd be better off if I hadn't run into you again."
Austin gave her a long look and straightened up. He put his chair back where he'd got it, grabbed her hand and pulled her up into a hug, and kissed her. He slid his tongue over her mouth and she tasted fresh apple.
"I don't think so, Tracey." His lips were near her ear as he spoke, and his voice was husky. He drew a caressing hand slowly down her flushed cheek, and kissed her once more.
"God, I've wanted to do that ever since I turned around and saw you at that faculty breakfast." Tracey couldn't reply. Austin trailed kisses down her neck to where her blouse opened, using his fingertips to rub her nipples through the delicate silk. She gasped at his unexpectedly sensual touch as he slid her top button slowly out of its buttonhole and moved down to the next. Then Tracey came to her senses and grabbed his wrists.
"No."
The smoldering look in his eyes gave way to fierce disappointment.
"What are you afraid of, Trace?"
"I'm not afraid. It's just that—" Tracey searched for the right words, struggling for composure as she rebuttoned her blouse. She remembered his skillful lovemaking very well, and she had an uneasy feeling that
his masterful technique had only improved in the intervening years. The will to resist this temptation wasn't going to come easy.
She pulled away, trembling. "This isn't the place, Austin."
"Oh. Well, let's go somewhere else that is." He kicked the door to the hallway shut and locked it with one hand, never taking the other from her shoulders. "Whatever you want. Wherever you want it. Do you know how much I've missed you?"
"Mmmm." Tracey quit trying to think and surrendered to his embrace and a deeper, more probing kiss. His hands slid over her breasts once more and her top button came undone all by itself as she arched her body against his, craving his strength and hardened masculinity. She'd done without for far too long.
Someone knocked on the door, and rattled the doorknob. Austin let her go, cursing under his breath.
"Mr. Miller?" a polite girlish voice called.
Tracey breathed a huge sigh of relief and smoothed her blouse. Austin held still, waiting for the unexpected visitor to give up and leave. A minute passed, then another, with a final rattle of the doorknob, and they were alone once more. He moved toward Tracey, but she held him at arm's length.
"That was a close call. We really shouldn't be playing games like that in a school office, anyway. Even when the door's locked."
He looked at her soberly.
"I'm not playing games, Trace. I still love you and you know it. And I want you more than I ever did. I can't stop thinking about you."
"Yes, you can," she said slowly. "Because I don't want—" Tracey stopped abruptly.
"What?"
"I don't want to fall in love with you again, Austin." Her tone was definite, but she turned to look out the window so he couldn't see her eyes. If he could, he'd know she was lying.
Chapter Six
She waited until Jackson was in bed and asleep before she made the phone call.
"Hello, Daddy."
"Hello, Tracey," he said.
There was silence on the other end of the line.
"I expect this call is about Austin Miller," he said after a few moments.
"Yes, it is," she said. "And I'm furious that you two had a just-us-men conversation behind my back. You could have let me know you were having dinner with him."
Jack Walker chuckled. "You can't be madder than I was when Jackson was born and you wouldn't tell me who his father was."
"So now you know," she said bluntly.
"I knew two weeks after you wouldn't tell me back then," he admitted. "Detectives can find out anything in the whole damn world. When I got the whole story, I did my best to get you to come back home."
"You knew! All this time you knew!"
"Of course I knew. And I knew that he'd married another girl instead of you because she was pregnant, too. Besides, I'd obtained a copy of his college ID photo. When Jackson was a year old I could see the resemblance but after I found out Austin married that other girl, I let it drop. Figured you wouldn't want anything to do with him," he said.
"Did you know Austin was here in Durant when I took this teaching job?" she asked.
"No, I surely didn't. Surprised the hell outta me when he called here and wanted to talk to me. I really like that man, Tracey. Say, I guess you want to discuss the pony, too," he chuckled again.
"No, I'm not through talking about Austin," she hissed.
"Well, what else do you want to know? You know him a helluva lot better than I do, anyway," he said. She could tell by his tone he was enjoying this far too much.
"Daddy, you are exasperating," she told him.
"So were you a few years ago, but you've come a long way since you decided to grow up. Maybe someday I'll be as mature as you," he teased. "Now, seriously, Tracey, he's a good man and he told me he's always loved you and still does. Give him a chance. You never know what might happen. Now do you want to know about Abu?"
"Who?"
"Abu, the pony. I found a pretty little gelding pony . . ."
"What in the hell is a gelding?" Tracey was too cross and distracted to remember what little she knew about horses.
"It's a male pony that's been castrated so it won't be a problem with Maybelle," he explained.
"So you know about Maybelle, too?" She tried to get a handle on her temper and control her voice.
"Of course, I knew about Maybelle. I knew about her and Emily before I knew Emily was Austin's daughter. All Jackson's talked about this September was his new friend, and how she had a horse named Maybelle. That, and jeans and boots," he reminded her. "Austin says I can stable Abu down there in Tom Bean with his daughter's horse, so I'll have him delivered there next weekend. On Jackson's birthday, I have to be out of town, so I'll call him and tell him all about the arrangements."
"Daddy, what am I going to do?" Tracey's voice had lost its edge and even she could hear the faint desperation in it.
"Well, Austin's folks can feed Abu when they feed Maybelle, and then once or twice a week you take Jackson down there to brush the animal and let him ride it," he told her.
"I'm not talking about the pony! I'm talking about Austin." She knew her father was teasing her.
"Oh, well, he's your problem. I can't tell you what to do about him. You and your heart have got to figure that out. If you love him, then I expect you'll know what to do. Oh, I hear Molly callin'. She says supper is ready," he said.
"At this time of night?" she asked.
"It's as good an excuse as any other." He laughed again. "Good luck, Tracey. You've got a big job ahead of you. Teachin', tellin' Jackson about his daddy, and figurin' out whether or not to let Austin back in your life. And it's something you have to do, just like you've had to prove your independence and raise that boy by yourself up 'til now. I'll call you over the weekend. Love you," he said and hung up before she could answer.
The rest of the week went by in a blur. She had a lunch engagement with Dr. Taylor on Wednesday and one with Dr. Benson on Thursday. Friday she and Twyla had a standing appointment for lunch at an all-you-can-eat pizza place on the west side of town, so she only saw Austin in the hallways. He winked and waved, sometimes pausing just long enough to ask about Jackson or to tell her he'd seen him at school when he picked Emily up.
Jackson's pick-up truck was gone Saturday morning when she looked out the window. He had probably gone to Tom Bean to visit with his folks and let Emily see her pony, which would have a stablemate the next weekend. She wondered if he'd told his daughter that Jackson's pony was coming to live in the same place as Maybelle, and how Emily felt about that.
The truck was still gone Sunday when Tracey and Jackson took advantage of a beautiful fall afternoon and went fishing near Lake Texoma. They got a few nibbles but didn't catch anything. Jackson finally decided no self-respecting fish would ever eat a creepy, crawly worm, and he put his bubble gum on the hook.
"Mom, maybe there's a fish down there who likes gum as much as I do," he said solemnly.
She adjusted her straw hat, reeled in her line and then threw it back out in a different spot. Who would have ever dreamed that former fashion plate Tracey Walker would be sitting in the grass in a pair of faded jeans, and an old, faded T-shirt from the Oklahoma City Zoo, with a fishing pole in her hand? Just thinking about the gasps that would bring from her high school girlfriends caused a smile to spread across her face.
Jackson sat patiently, watching his bobber. The water was flat, and nothing was biting.
"Mom, I'm hot. Do we have any orange juice?"
"I sure do. Bet you're glad you didn't wear jeans today." She opened the cooler and found his juice in the ice.
"Yep, I am." He took the top off and guzzled half the bottle. "Emily says her daddy wears shorts sometimes, so I guess it's all right for men to wear them, but not to school. I bet that fish who likes bubble gum is taking a nap. When he wakes up he's goin' to be so happy because that old hook will be right in front of him with a big piece of pink gum stuck on it." He added, almost as an afterthought, "Emily says her mom gave her to her dad beca
use he could take care of her better. She doesn't ever see her mom."
"Oh." Tracey wondered why he'd brought that subject up all of a sudden.
"Well, I'm glad you didn't give me to my dad. I would miss you much too much." He set down his rod and reel, wrapped his arms around her neck and squeezed hard.
Tears came to her eyes but she brushed them away. "Well, thank you very much, Jackson Walker," she said formally. "I shall cherish that hug forever and ever. I'd begun to think I wasn't all that important somehow."
He let go and picked up his fishing gear again, keeping a close check on the red and white bobber. "'Course you're important. I think Emily would like to have a mommy, too. She's got a granny and a grandpa, but I've got a Poppa Jack and a Molly. But . . ." he struggled with the thought. "I just think she'd like to have a real mommy just as much as I'd like to have a real daddy."
The only time he'd ever asked about his father, she'd been able to hedge around the issue quite successfully. She had always thought that when the time came, she would tell him just enough to satisfy his curiosity for that day. Then later, when he was older, she would tell him more.
"Do you think the fish will wake up and smell my gum pretty soon? I don't want to put it back in my mouth after it's been down there in that green, slimey stuff," he said.
"No. Of course not." She prayed for a fish to bite, and distract him, but none obliged.
"Who is my daddy?" Jackson suddenly asked.
"Your daddy? Um—" she stalled, frantically trying to collect her thoughts into a truthful answer he would understand.
"He does have a name, don't he?" he pushed.
"Yes." She realized he wasn't watching the bobber anymore. Jackson was looking her right in the eyes without even blinking.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I think maybe we better talk about this a while before I tell you his name," she said.
"Okay." He dragged the word out just like Austin did. Tracey had to smile.
"A long time ago when I was in college . . ." she began.
"Is this a once upon a time story?" he asked.
"I don't think so," she said. "I was in college and I met this man who was very special. He used to tell me he loved me Red River deep and I would say, 'No, that's not enough. I want you to love me deep as the Red River and high as the mountains,' and he would just laugh. Then he'd say he hadn't seen any mountains as high as he loved me, but he had seen the Red River during flood season and he figured he loved me Red River deep."
Small Town Romance Collection: Four Complete Romances & A New Novella Page 22