* * *
Keeley had made it clear that life with her father wasn’t always easy, especially now that he was slowly failing.
But spending the past few hours in their family home, enjoying a dinner and time with two people who had weathered hard times and still actually talked to each other, had tugged at Connor until he felt a raw and lonely chasm deepen in his heart.
Feelings he’d buried during what he thought would be a hopeless, lifelong incarceration were surfacing with each passing day.
What if there was still hope for new beginnings? What if Marsha had changed—and would be willing to get along, if only for their son’s sake?
Putting the past behind them would make everything so much easier...
Connor pulled his cell phone from his pocket, turned it on and checked the bars as he walked out to Keeley’s car. Sure enough, there was much better reception here in town than at the campground, where rocky bluffs towered over Aspen Creek and rimmed the main camping area.
He speed-dialed one of the few numbers programmed into the phone and listened to it ring, and ring, and ring...not even hopeful that there would be an answer.
“Hullo?” His ex-wife’s slurred voice grated in his ear.
From the sound of her voice, she was beyond drunk, and his hope faded. He only hoped Joshua wasn’t awake to see her. Then again, maybe he saw her like this so often that he thought it was normal.
“This is Connor. I wanted to tell you that—”
“I know who you are,” she muttered. “A convict. What kid deserves a dad like you?”
He fought to keep his voice level and calm. “As I already told you, I was never guilty. It was all a mistake. I’ve been exonerated.”
“Right. Only who’s to say the new DNA stuff isn’t wrong?”
Connor glanced at his watch. “Please, let me talk to Joshua.”
“Since they gave me full custody, I’m the one making the decisions. You have no business calling him.”
“Actually, I do. You may have custody, but I still have a father’s rights, Marsha.” He closed his eyes, feeling a chill creep down his spine as he remembered her threat to take the boy and move somewhere out on the East Coast without sharing a forwarding address. “And I also have a right to visit him.”
“Just try.”
“It would be better for him if we could be adults and work together. Have you told him that I’ve been released yet? That I want to see him?”
“I’ve got a new boyfriend now. A great guy, with lots of money—and Josh already thinks of him as Dad. Why mess the poor kid up?”
Her words felt like a knife twisting in his gut. Was it true or just another of her fabrications? “Josh deserves to know his real dad, Marsha—”
“Just drop it. After school’s out the three of us are moving out East, and good luck finding us then.”
She disconnected the call.
Connor closed his eyes and silently counted to ten. What were the laws on parental rights in Michigan?
From behind him, he heard Keeley clear her throat as she came down the porch steps. “Sorry it took a while. I needed to ask Dad about an idea I had, but trying to convince him of anything he doesn’t think of first is like asking a mule to fly.”
How much had she overheard of his phone call? “No problem.”
Dusk had settled in and now the old-fashioned street lamp by the curb painted lacy patterns of light and shadow on the sidewalk. As she walked around to the driver’s side of her old SUV, her blond hair gleamed like molten silver and gold, so pretty that it nearly took his breath away.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” she murmured as she buckled her seat belt and started the engine. “You seemed to be arguing with someone when I first came out on the porch, so I went back into the house for a while.”
He slouched in the front seat and looked straight ahead as she shifted into Drive, debating what to say. He’d been brutally honest about his incarceration, and even about his estrangement from his family back at the ranch.
But the situation with Marsha and Josh dominated his thoughts day and night, and felt too raw, too unsettled, too painful to share. Definitely not fodder for casual conversation where he might be faced with a flood of questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.
“You aren’t in some kind of trouble, are you? Should I be worried about you working for me?”
“Not at all.” He considered his words for a moment. “Just some...personal problems, unfortunately. Not at all relevant to the job at the store.”
They drove in silence through the downtown area of Aspen Creek and out to the campground, where she pulled to a stop by the pavilion. Several families were gathered in the shelter, playing cards at the picnic tables.
She turned sideways in her seat and rested a wrist on the steering wheel. “Maybe you could elaborate just a little. I’m now imagining street gangs and SWAT teams knocking on my door.”
“None of that has ever been a part of my life.” He sighed heavily. “Though they might be easier to deal with. The phone call was, unfortunately, with my ex-wife.”
Keeley drew in a shaky breath, her eyes wide. “You were married—and she wants you back?”
“She would like me to disappear. Forever. But that isn’t going to happen.”
“You mean...you want her back?” Keeley’s somber gaze searched his face. “You still love her?”
“No.” He rubbed his palm over his face and exhaled slowly. “We barely tolerate each other, sad to say.”
“I can’t imagine how difficult that was, if neither of you was happy.”
At that, he snorted. “Happy would be a rare emotion for Marsha. Especially when she’s talking to me.”
Keeley dropped her gaze to her hands for a long moment then slanted a look at him. “I know it’s none of my business, but wouldn’t it be easier to just avoid each other?”
“It isn’t that simple.” He looked out at the deepening dusk and the squadron of moths orbiting the nearby security light. “We stayed together for four hard years. Then she ran off with one of the guys she’d been seeing on the sly. I wouldn’t have cared by then, except...” He swallowed hard. “For our son.”
Keeley paled. “Y-you have a child?”
“I would’ve done anything to keep that marriage together, so Josh wouldn’t have a broken home. Anything.”
“I’m so sorry.”
A familiar, heavy mantle of sorrow and regret settled over him, making it harder to breathe. “I haven’t seen him in five years. I didn’t want him to have memories of visiting me in prison, but maybe I was wrong.”
“It must have been so hard, not seeing him grow up,” Keeley murmured. “How old is he?”
“Nine. As soon as I left prison I tried to find them, but Marsha had disappeared. I started calling old friends of hers—anyone I could remember. Most refused to talk to me, but one gal finally gave me Marsha’s new cell number and last known address.” He swallowed hard at the memory of that conversation. “She gave it to me because she felt Josh deserved to be in better hands.”
“Oh, no.”
“I tried to get Lonnie to elaborate. All she’d say was that Marsha had lived with a string of boyfriends in recent years, still loved the party scene, and that Josh was practically raising himself. Last month Marsha took him and moved somewhere near Detroit. She has full custody, but she should have asked me—or at least should have contacted me with that new address.”
“How did she end up with full...?” Keeley bit her lower lip. “Stupid question.”
“She didn’t even want shared custody at first. But her lawyer convinced her otherwise, in case she ever changed her mind, I guess.” Connor gave a short, bitter laugh. “After I went to prison, she got full custody by default. No one thoug
ht I’d ever be released.”
“So that’s why you’re heading for Detroit—hoping to find your son,” Keeley said slowly. “I can’t imagine how heart-wrenching that must be.”
“I have missed him every moment of every day. Knowing he’s not in a good situation makes it a thousand times worse.”
“But you’ve talked to him, right? Sent letters?”
“I sent letters to him twice a week, the entire time I was in prison, but never heard back. I don’t know if he ever got them.”
“Could you call him from there?”
“With prepaid calling cards, but Marsha always refused to put him on the phone. Then she started complaining to her lawyer about ‘harassment’ and ‘threats,’ so I wasn’t allowed to call them again.”
Keeley sagged against her seat and shook her head. “I just don’t know what to say.”
“I promise you, I have never, ever, harassed anyone. Not in my entire life.”
She reached across the front seat and rested her hand on his. “I believe you. Honest, I do.”
He willed away the tension roiling in his stomach. “Would you let me use your laptop tomorrow?”
“You want to take it out to the campground?”
“No—just at the store, because I need the internet. Marsha says she’s taking off with Josh and her new boyfriend after the last day of school. I need to know when that is.”
“Of course. We can go back to town right now, if you want to.”
“No need.” He thought for a moment. “I also need to look up Michigan’s child custody laws and try to find a lawyer. If I wait until I get there, I may run out of time.”
“And in the midst of this, your truck broke down and you got stranded here. Is there someone you can call for a loan? A different car?”
“Not really. What family I have left is in Texas and, as I’ve mentioned, we aren’t close. I’ve lost touch with everyone else.”
“It all seems so sad,” she said slowly.
“In all fairness, once I got a life sentence I made no effort to keep in touch with anyone, except Marsha and Josh. What was the point?”
“Maybe you could go to a bank and...”
He held back a bitter laugh. “Yes, indeed, with my current employment record, my valuable collateral and my most recent address in Montana, I’m sure I sound like a good risk to a banker.”
She gave his hand a squeeze, her lovely face etched with regret and other emotions he couldn’t read in the darkness. “I wish I could help, honest. But things here are a bit shaky for me right now. I’ve been having trouble just trying to stay afloat.”
“I couldn’t ask you for money anyway. I don’t want to drag anyone else into this mess.”
“I’m just so sorry to hear about what you’ve been going through.”
“I’m grateful for the temporary job. Working any hours I can get will help with truck repairs and give me more to work with when I get to Detroit.” He opened the passenger-side door to step out into the unseasonably sultry night, then turned back to her. “If I can find a reasonable lawyer, every last penny for legal fees is going to matter when I try to get my son back.”
“Your son is a very lucky boy to have a father like you.” She turned the key in the ignition and then met his gaze once more. “And I promise, I’ll be keeping you both in my prayers.”
Long after she drove away, Connor stared after her.
If not for this entire, difficult situation, they never would have met. But what would his life be like now if he’d known someone like her years ago?
Gentle and thoughtful, with a caring heart, Keeley wouldn’t have fallen for a bronc rider from Texas back then, any more than she would now. He was hardly the right fit for her world. He had to leave, to go after his son and then find a job in the world he knew best—cattle ranching or horses out West.
And he knew she couldn’t leave.
Her roots went deep in this pretty little town—her father was failing, and the business she was trying to save would keep her here, while there was no way he could stay. Even if he got custody of his son and wanted to come back, he’d be as well suited to a tourist town as a bull in a ballet.
But he would help Keeley as best he could before leaving Aspen Creek, and build some memories to savor after he was gone, because he already knew he would never forget her.
And those memories would have to be enough.
Chapter Seven
Keeley stepped out of the Aspen Creek Community Church and shaded her eyes against the bright morning sun.
“How are you all?” she said, grinning to the slender, auburn-haired woman and her son, who were waiting at the bottom of the steps.
Sophie Alexander-McLaren rested a hand on her son Eli’s shoulder and nodded toward her new husband, who was talking to another parishioner. “Doing well. He’s busier than ever at his clinic and hopes to hire another doctor this fall. I’m still working just three days a week, but that’s all we want, really. I’m needed at home, too.”
“We’ve missed you at the book club,” Keeley teased. “Monday mornings aren’t the same without you.”
Sophie whispered something to her son and he ran to join his father. “We’ve just finished six weeks with a new therapist,” she said in a lowered voice. “She gave us all some great ideas for working with him and encouraged us to sign him up for a new autism spectrum disorder program through the university.”
“I’m so glad. He’s such a sweet boy.”
“He’s still obsessed with motorcycles and dinosaurs, of course, but she also introduced us to some new programs for his iPad.” She laughed. “He thinks they’re games, but they’re supposed to help him a lot.”
Keeley gave her a quick hug. “Wonderful news, all around.”
“That it is.” Sophie cocked an eyebrow. “And what’s this I hear about you?”
Keeley felt a faint blush warm her cheeks. “Nothing much—except for Edna retiring Thursday. I miss her already.”
“Ah, but I hear there’s someone new in your life—a tall, dark and yummy cowboy from out West?” Sophie winked at her. “He ought to be luring lots of the local ladies into the store.”
“That wasn’t the plan,” Keeley said dryly. “He was on his way east and his truck bit the dust. He’ll only be in town for three weeks at the most—maybe less. He’s just putting in some hours at the store while he waits for repairs.”
Sophie chuckled. “That isn’t how I heard it down at the coffee shop this morning. Lucy was telling everyone how this good-looking cowboy came to your rescue like some medieval knight when you were stranded on the roof of your store. Very romantic, according to her. Well, except the part about your dad. Oops.”
Keeley groaned. “Lucy wasn’t even there. It was Millie from the knitting shop. But between the two of them, I wouldn’t be surprised to see the story hit USA TODAY—though why anyone would care is beyond me.”
“They all sure do at the coffee shop when Lucy starts spinning her tales. She’s quite the storyteller.”
“So...she said something about my dad?”
“Something about him ‘driving like a crazy old coot and knocking down your ladder...and it’s a wonder you weren’t killed.’” Sophie bit her lower lip. “I suppose he isn’t going to be too happy when he learns about the gossip.”
“Livid would just about sum it up. And he’ll probably imagine the incident and the gossip was my fault.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie. I know it isn’t easy watching over him these days. Any luck talking him into health-care aide visits? Or a housekeeper who could also watch over him?”
Keeley rolled her eyes. “The last time I brought that up he nearly threw me out of his house. Even finding a renter or two for the little cottages out back could add some subtle superv
ision, but he isn’t interested in that, either. Nope, it’s still just me—and that’s only when he’s in a good mood.”
“You do know that my husband will write medical recommendations and do whatever he can to help you get your dad into a facility when the time comes. Not,” Sophie added quickly, “that Paul’s at that point yet. But still...”
“Good Lord willing, it will be a long time off, because he will fight that idea until he’s absolutely unable to care for himself. He knows his legal rights and isn’t about to give up.”
Sophie’s husband beckoned to her and she waved back, then gave Keeley another hug. “I promise I’ll try to make it to Beth’s Bookstore tomorrow for coffee with you all. But if you ever need help of any kind, just let me know.”
Keeley watched Sophie and her family walk toward the parking lot and sighed. Sophie was an excellent physical therapist, but no one really knew just how challenging Paul North could be—or how stubborn.
* * *
Despite the bright sunshine and perfect, seventy-degree weather, business was slow for a Sunday afternoon. Keeley drove out to the hardware store for supplies then asked Connor to replace the wobbly, dripping faucet in the customer bathroom and install new dead bolts on the front and back doors.
While he was working on that, she settled at the front counter with a cup of hot strawberry tea and hit the speed-dial number for her sister.
Liza answered on the second ring, sounding harried. From the commotion in the background, apparently neither toddler was taking an afternoon nap.
“Is this a bad time? Should I call back later?”
Liza groaned. “Wouldn’t make much difference. The twins were up early this morning, show no signs of slowing down, and the one who desperately needs a nap is me.”
“Maybe Owen can take over for a while so you can.”
“Great idea—but he’s already on his way to Boston for a meeting tomorrow morning.”
“Bad timing.”
Liza laughed. “Your time will come, Keel. Did you know adults can survive on almost no sleep for days?”
The Single Dad's Redemption (Aspen Creek Crossroads Book 3) Page 6