The Chesapeake Bride

by Mariah Stewart

  “Mom?” Cass called from the hall.

  Her mother appeared in the living room doorway. “Cassie, I didn’t know you were coming home today. Did you tell your father and he forgot to give me the message?”

  “No, I just . . . I just . . .” Cass dropped her belongings and walked into her mother’s arms. “I just wanted to come home.” She burst into tears.

  “Oh, sweetheart. What is it?” Linda embraced her daughter.

  “Owen . . . Owen has a son and his ex-wife is back in the picture and they look so right together and they should probably get back together but I love him and I thought he loved me but now he’s going to go back to her so they can be a family and—”

  “Whoa! Stop! Come in here and sit down and start from the beginning.” Linda led Cass into the sunroom and sat her down on the wicker sofa. “Start talking.”

  Cass talked. She told her mother about Owen and how she’d fallen in love with him. How they’d been together almost every night, sharing a sweet little house in St. Dennis. How it had felt like the most right thing that had ever happened to her. How, despite her resolve to never get involved with another adventure-loving man, she’d fallen hard for him. How she had believed him when he said he’d stay, how she’d trusted him.

  Then she told her mother about Cyndi and her deception, about the child that had been hidden from Owen, about how the truth had come out. About how she’d watched them together and how much they looked like a family.

  “Well, they are a family, Cass. They are parents to that child.”

  “No, I mean they looked like they really liked each other again, like they were mother and father and son.”

  “That’s what they are. And they should appear to like each other, whether or not they really do. If for no other reason than to make that little boy feel comfortable with Owen so he can get to know his son.”

  “They looked like they were doing more than just trying to make J.J. comfortable.”

  “I think you’re jumping to conclusions, Cass. I think you’re reading something into this that may or may not be there.”

  “What if they decide to get back together and be a family for real?”

  “Has Owen given you any reason to think that might happen?”

  “Well, no, but I have eyes, Mom.”

  “And an active imagination. Unfortunately, I have to take the blame for that.” Linda cleared her throat. “What did you tell Owen before you left St. Dennis?”

  “Nothing. I just left.”

  “You just left? You didn’t say, ‘Good-bye, I think I’ll go see my mom in Baltimore’? ‘I need space, I need to think’? Nothing?”

  Cass shook her head.

  “Cassidy,” Linda said softly. “I think that was a cowardly thing to do.”

  “Oh, thanks, Mom. I come home crying for some motherly advice and you call me a coward. Way to kick a girl when she’s down.”

  Cass tried to get up but Linda pulled on her arm to make her sit back down.

  “I said it was a cowardly thing to do, not that you’re a coward.”

  “Same thing.”

  “No, it isn’t, and you know it isn’t. You have a relationship with this man that sounds very serious.”

  “I thought it was.”

  “And I’m sure he thought it was, too. He probably thinks it still is. But his whole world has been turned upside down, Cassie. Put yourself in his place. I’m sure he’s going crazy trying to figure out the right thing to do for his son. I can’t even imagine how conflicted and confused he must be.”

  Cass’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she glanced at the screen. Owen.

  “Is that him?”

  Cass nodded.

  “You should talk to him.”

  “I’m not ready to talk to him.” Cass slid the phone back into her pocket.

  “He might be worried about where you are.”

  “I don’t think he’s thinking about me these days.” Cass stood and went into the hall and gathered up the things she’d left there. “I’m going back to my apartment. Thanks for the pep talk, Mom.”

  “Cassie . . .”

  “I know you’re trying to be rational and to see both sides. But that’s not what I need just now.” Cass fished in her pocket for her car keys. “Right now I need someone to just be on my side.”

  “I am always on your side, sweetheart.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it.” Cass kissed her mother on the cheek.

  “Cass, you’re giving me the impression that you’ve given up.” Linda stopped her in the doorway.

  “Maybe.”

  “You know, ever since you were little, you were my warrior girl. I never saw you give up on anything. You always fought for what you wanted. What happened to my little warrior?” Linda folded her arms over her chest and stared at her daughter. “Where’s that fighter now?”

  WHERE’S THAT FIGHTER now?

  Cass was wondering that herself. Was she not fighting because she was afraid she’d lose? When, she wondered, had she started to become afraid of losing?

  When had the stakes ever been this high?

  Yes, she finally admitted to herself. She was afraid of losing Owen. More accurately, she was afraid he was already lost to her.

  And maybe that was the right way for this to end. Maybe Owen and Cyndi owed it to themselves to try to be a family for their son. They’d looked happy together, hadn’t they? Maybe she, not Cyndi, should bow out gracefully. Wouldn’t that be best for J.J., better than being shipped back and forth between—where were they living now? Massachusetts? Rhode Island? Somewhere up there. It’s a long way for weekend visits, Cass thought. But if Cyndi moved back to the Eastern Shore, maybe they could spend more time together. They’d cared about each other once. Maybe for the sake of their son, they should try again.

  Maybe Cass was the one who should back away.

  The thought of doing that was like a thorn in her heart.

  It isn’t fair, she thought as she unlocked the door to her apartment. I love him and . . .

  She sighed and put her computer on the dining-room table.

  And I never told him. Not in words, but I should have. What was I waiting for?

  Her apartment was dark and she was too depressed to turn the lights on. The place was dusty, and something in the refrigerator smelled terrible and the odor had seeped into the entire kitchen and dining area. She opened the door to the fridge and found something unrecognizable wrapped in clear plastic wrap, which did nothing to contain the nasty smell. She dropped it into a plastic bag and took it outside to the trash.

  She went back upstairs and into her bedroom and tossed her phone onto her bed. What she needed was sleep. She hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since the previous weekend, and she was mentally and physically exhausted. Not the time to make a major decision about Owen or anything else in her life. She’d ignored his last few calls, and a glance at the screen told her she’d missed yet another. Finally she broke down and listened to his voice mails:

  “Babe, where are you? Where’d you go? Why’d you just disappear like that? Call me, would you please?”

  “Cass, what’s going on? Kevin said you just got up and left. Where are you?”

  “Cass, please come back. Whatever it is, we’ll work it out. Call me, please?”

  “Okay, this is getting scary. I’m starting to think the worst. That something’s happened to you. If you’re okay, at least let me know. Otherwise, I’m going to be tempted to call the state police. Cassie . . .”

  His frustration came through loud and clear in that last message. She sent him a text:

  In Baltimore. Need to think things through. Will be in touch.

  He’d texted back, When are you coming back?

  I don’t know was the most honest answer she could give him.

  Almost immediately, her phone pinged.

  I’ll be waiting.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Owen paced the floor, wondering what had happened th
at had made Cass leave without a word. He realized he’d been caught up in his own drama all week, but it wasn’t every day a man found out he had a son.

  He had a son.

  He, Owen Parker, had fathered a son, and the woman he’d been married to at the time had hidden that from him for almost two years just to spite him. And for what? he’d asked her that first night as they sat on the back porch of the store, J.J. asleep on his mother’s lap.

  “For being you,” she’d said, keeping her voice low so as not to wake the child. “For not being who I wanted you to be.”

  “You always knew exactly who I was. How many times had we broken up over the fact that I couldn’t be the guy you wanted?”

  “I thought you’d change after we were married.”

  “When has that ever worked?”

  “Well, it didn’t work well for us, and please keep your voice down. I’m sorry, Owen. It was stupid and petty and I deserve for you to hate me forever for what I’ve done. But please don’t let J.J. know how much you hate me. I don’t want him to feel that, and I never want him to think he was an accident.”

  Then she started to cry, deep sobs that Owen thought she must have been holding inside since the day she found out she was pregnant.

  “I’m engaged to a guy who is so wonderful,” she said between sobs. “He loves me more than anyone’s ever loved me. And he loves J.J. like he’s his own. When Kevin and I were first dating and he’d ask about the baby’s father, I’d give him some vague answer. When he asked me to marry him, he said he wanted to adopt J.J., so we’d need to get his birth father to sign something agreeing to that. I knew I was in trouble then. I knew there was no way you would ever sign over the rights to your son to another man.”

  “Well, thanks for getting that much right.”

  “I kept making excuses about why I hadn’t gotten in touch with you. ‘Oh, he’s out of the country right now.’ ‘Oh, I don’t know where he is.’ Finally, Kevin figured out that something was up, and he asked me point-blank what the hell was going on and if I was going to ask you about the adoption. And I had to tell him the truth.” Cyndi swallowed hard. “I didn’t know Kevin had a temper. He was always so calm about things, so reasonable about everything. But not about this. He said either I came clean with you and gave you the opportunity to say yes or no, that he could adopt J.J. or not, or the wedding was off. I knew you’d never give up your parental rights once you found out about J.J. At the same time, Kevin insisted he wasn’t going to steal another man’s son. Well, I was trapped and knew I had to face up to both of you. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what you would do. Kevin looked at me like I was the worst person who’d ever been born.” She started to cry again, then waved Owen off when he started to say something. “Not that I didn’t deserve it. I did. I know I did. It was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I wish to God I could go back and do things differently. I swear, Owen . . .” More tears. “Can you ever forgive me?”

  “I don’t know. You’re asking me now, and right now, I don’t think I can, but maybe someday that will change. In the meantime, where do we go from here? Obviously, I want to get to know my son. And no, you can tell Kevin I’m not giving permission for him to adopt J.J. I admire him for being willing to do that, but I won’t permit it, even though I’m grateful to him for his pushing you. If not for him, would I ever know I had a son?”

  Cyndi averted her eyes.

  “That’s what I thought. So how are we going to handle this? How can I spend time with J.J. if you’re living in . . . ? Where are you going to be living?”

  “We just moved to Hartford, Connecticut.”

  “That’s a long way to drive for weekend visits.”

  She was silent.

  “I’ll tell you up front, weekends alone are not good enough. You’ve had him for almost two years. It’s my turn.”

  “Uh-uh. If you think I’m going to hand him over to you, you are crazy. He doesn’t even know you.”

  “Whose fault is that?”

  “You could have called once in a while, Owen. If you had, I probably would have told you.”

  “I’m thinking probably not.”

  Cyndi went silent again. Then she picked up her bag and J.J. “This isn’t going to be resolved in one night, or two. I don’t know what the solution will be. But I’m not here to give him to you.”

  “No, you’re here because you were shamed into it, and you’re here because I bumped into you by accident. How long were you going to be in Ballard before you finally came to see me? Or were you going to tell your fiancé that I wasn’t around and no one knew where I was so he could go ahead and petition the court for the adoption, and I would never have known because I didn’t know J.J. existed?” Owen looked at the sweet child in her arms. “I didn’t even get to throw my two cents in when it came time to name him.”

  “I can’t do this anymore tonight, Owen. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  She’d left Owen standing on the back porch at the store, watching as she drove away with his son in the backseat of her car.

  The whole thing had made Owen feel like the world’s biggest loser. He had a son he hadn’t even known about. Cyndi was right. If he’d so much as picked up the phone and called her once in a while to see how she was, maybe she would have told him. But he’d cut off that relationship just as he’d cut off every other one he’d been in. Done? Over? Move on, then.

  Only this time, moving on had cost him.

  He wanted his son, but he wasn’t sure how to make that work. Cyndi and Kevin were going to be living three states away. Was he supposed to pick up and move?

  Where did that leave his relationship with Cass? He might move on from the island, from the work he loved, but he was not willing to move on from Cass. He’d fallen in love with her, but could he ask her to accept another woman’s child? What must she think of him now? And how could he get J.J. to understand that he, Owen, was his father, not Kevin?

  He’d posed that to Ruby two nights after Cyndi and J.J. had left. They’d had dinner together and he’d made attempts to have his son warm up to him, but he had to acknowledge that was going to be slow going. For the most part, J.J. seemed a bit suspicious of Owen, which was compounded by the child’s apparently being somewhat shy by nature.

  “He acts like he’s afraid of me,” Owen had complained to Ruby.

  “He doesn’t know you. Give him time. Don’t be expecting a baby to know you’re his daddy when you never been around.”

  “That’s not my fault.”

  “Not be talking fault, Owen. That kind of talk be folly. You want to be angry at Cyndi, you have every right to be. But don’t let that show to your boy. He be picking that up, by and by, and all he be knowing is his mama and this man of hers.”

  “It’s not fair,” Owen grumbled.

  “Oh, we be talkin’ like a five-year-old now?” Ruby harrumphed. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you say that.”

  “I want to know my son, Gigi.”

  Her tone softened. “I know you do, boy. And you be right in that.”

  “I don’t want him to ever think I didn’t want him.”

  “You work this out the right way, he’ll know who you are and what he is to you. Just don’t be trying to steamroll over that ex-wife of yours.”

  “Seems I’m the one who got steamrolled,” Owen mumbled.

  “Yes, you did, but what did you expect from a girl like Cyndi? But would I be one to remind you that you were told way back when to stop messin’ with her, that it was going to lead to a heap of trouble for you one day?”

  “Yes, you would be one to remind me. You like to say, ‘I told you so,’ as much as the next guy.”

  “True enough, that.”

  Owen sighed. “I just want a chance to be his father, Gigi. He barely looks at me, and when I try to talk to him, he buries his face in his mother.”

  “He be a shy boy, that’s all. Lots of young ones go through shy times.”

  “He
didn’t seem so shy when Kevin showed up.”

  “Don’t you think that be natural? He be around that man all the time, and from where I’m sitting, Cyndi’s man be good to that boy. And to her, not that she be deserving.”

  Owen could feel Ruby’s eyes on him. He was waiting for her to say whatever else was on her mind. He knew she wouldn’t keep to herself something she wanted him to hear.

  Finally she said, “And don’t be resenting that man for being as good as he is. You be a stranger to the child, son. Not of your doing, but that be the fact. Give him time to know you. He’ll know who his real daddy is, by and by.”

  “Not if I don’t get to spend time with him.”

  “That’ll work out.” She sat back in her chair. “What is Cass thinking about all this?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Ruby smacked him with her newspaper. “That be the business you best be taking care of. You lose that woman, you lose your heart, boy. You lose yourself.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?”

  “Knowing and doing be two different things. Best you get that done.”

  “She left, Gigi.”

  Ruby harrumphed again. Twice in one conversation, Owen realized. Things were worse than he’d thought.

  “That be on you. Why would she be staying, with you not talking, not telling her where her place be in all this?”

  Owen looked at his great-grandmother. “You knew all along, didn’t you? About J.J.? About Cyndi not telling me. About Cass coming into my life, and about Cass leaving me. You knew it all.”

  “What I know or don’t know, when or if—some things not be mine to tell. But of all those things, only one you have control over. The rest of all that, none be in your hands. They be decisions you had no hand in. But that one thing . . . you can control what happens.”

  “You’re not talking about J.J. You’re talking about Cass.”