Becoming Jesse's Father (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 5)

by Patricia Watters

  She went into the kitchen and started moving things around—arranging silverware on the counter, stacking and unstacking bowls, as if needing something to do with her hands—and he knew a good cry was far from healing whatever nightmare Erik put her through, and in spite of what she'd told him, if it came to a showdown with Erik, he was sure he'd have the strength to take him. People have been known to lift cars and perform other feats of strength to save a loved one, and once the adrenaline would start pumping, his hatred of Erik coupled with his love for Emily would level the playing field. And he didn't deny he still loved Emily, and maybe always would. But he'd guard his heart against acting on it.

  For now, he wanted to somehow get through to Jesse. Having a son changed his life. But then it came to him that he didn't really have a son, not in the legal sense, and the man who did was not fit to be a father.

  Seeming to pick up on that, Emily said in an anxious voice, "As soon as possible I want to have DNA tests done to prove you're Jesse's father, and if anything happens to me, I want you to promise you'll look after him and never let Erik near him."

  Adam walked up and took her by the shoulders, and said, "Erik won't get his hands on Jesse ever again and nothing's going to happen to you, and as soon as we get you settled, we'll figure out a plan for taking care of Jesse. The ranch will be good for him, and we'll already have a built-in baby sitter with Maddy."

  "We?" Emily said. "Is there a we?"

  Adam studied her troubled face, but as she waited for his response, he couldn't bring himself to say a simple yes. He'd been through this too many times with her to think this time was a go. "Let's take things one step at a time, starting with Jesse and me. After that—" He dropped his hands from her shoulders and shrugged. "We need to concentrate on Jesse."

  Emily gave him a faltering smile, and said, "You're right. I guess I just needed to hear you say it. Now, I'd better figure out how to make a meal from all the stuff you brought."

  "And I'd better take care of my horse," Adam said. "He isn't usually skittish but I don't want to take any chances so I'll close him in the loafing shed so he doesn't spook if the lion comes around."

  But before he turned away, Emily looked up at him and said, "I'm going to make it up to you someday. Maybe with Jesse, if it turns out it's just the two of you."

  Adam wasn't sure what Emily was trying to say, but he liked the idea of spending time with his son. And as soon as Jesse would be comfortable with him he'd get him a horse and take him on overnight treks in the mountains, and teach him about survival and how to build a snow cave if he got lost in a storm, and when he turned twelve he'd have the father-son talk with him and teach him all the things his own dad taught him.

  Looking at the closed door to the bedroom, he said to Emily, "I won't let him down."

  But as he turned to leave, Emily rushed across the room and took the shotgun from the mantel and said, "You need to take this with you."

  Adam looked at the gun, then at Emily, and said, "Unless he's at close range, buckshot's likely to make him mad and much more dangerous. Tomorrow, I plan to go back to the ranch and return with the dogs and my Winchester."

  ***

  While Adam was taking care of his horse, Emily peeked in on Jesse to see how he was doing, and when Jesse saw her he raised his hands, which were clutching his threadbare blanket, and she picked him up. Holding him on her lap, she said, "Honey, you're safe here. Nothing will get you now." She knew words like safe didn't compute with Jesse because it wasn't pegged to a man he could trust, and somehow she'd have to show Jesse that not all men were bad. But first she'd have to get him to come out of the bedroom when Adam was there, if only to sit across the room from Adam and watch him. That would be a start. Or maybe Adam could be in the room while Jesse was playing in the tub.

  Smoothing Jesse's mop of dark curly hair from his face, she said, "Honey, would you like to get in the tub again and wash Mr. Ducky?"

  Jesse nodded, then slipped off Emily's lap and grabbed the yellow duck from the bedside table and handed it to her, then started stripping off his clothes.

  Emily laughed. "Not yet, sweetheart. Daddy will have to heat up the water and fill the tub." Jesse looked at her, a frown on his brow.

  Emily knew the word, Daddy, was confusing. He'd never heard it before because once Erik realized Jesse wasn't his son he wouldn't allow it, which was about the time Jesse was learning to talk, when his features began to be distinctly Adam's, and his hair had darkened, and curls framed his face. Then Erik reacted in a way Emily hadn't expected. Having a legal right to Adam's son gave him power over both her and Adam, so Erik started playing a new kind of mind game, one with Jesse, wanting to change him into his son, someone who'd fear nothing, and who'd learn to have power over others. She knew then that she had to get away.

  When Jesse continued staring at her, she said, "Daddy's the name of the man who's taking care of us while we're here. He loves you, just like Mommy loves you."

  Jesse leaned against the bed and stared at the duck in his hand, and said, "My ducky?"

  "Yes, sweetheart, he's your ducky, and Daddy will never take it from you. So let's go into the living room and get the tub and put it in front of the fireplace. You can sit on the couch and hold Ducky and watch Daddy fill the tub with water for your bath."

  Jesse didn't smile, but he did follow Emily into the living room, where he crawled up onto the couch. Emily got one of the books from the bedroom and sat with him and let him turn the pages while they waited for Daddy to come back.

  A warm feeling curled through her with the thought of Jesse one day calling Adam Daddy, and Jesse seeing Adam's wonderful smile, and holding his little arms up for Adam to pick him up the way Jesse does for her. She could imagine them together like that, Jesse looking at his father with admiration, and Adam looking at his son with love and pride.

  Spotting Adam heading across the snowy clearing toward the cabin, she went to the door and stepped onto the porch, and said, as he was mounting the stairs, "Jesse's on the couch so come quietly. I told him you'd fill the tub for his bath, and I told him your name was Daddy."

  Adam stared at her for a moment, as if it hadn't quite computed, then he smiled, a warm, sincere smile that lit up his eyes in a way she'd almost forgotten. But the moment he stepped inside, Jesse took one look at him and fled to the bedroom. Emily went after him and picked him up and held him. Although he'd run into the room, he hadn't screamed like before. He'd never screamed or reacted that way with Erik because he'd been too terrified, but she sensed that in some way she couldn't explain it had been good for Jesse do so with Adam. It let out a whole lot of pent up fear, and Adam didn't react to it in a negative way. She just hoped Jesse would bond with Adam in time.

  She was tempted to tell Adam that Erik wasn't the only one after her, but Adam was too unpredictable at this point, knowing now that Jesse was his son, and there was far too much at stake, so she'd wait a little longer. But eventually, she'd have to tell him everything because it was precisely the reason she'd made her way to the ranch, and to Adam. But once Jesse bonded with Adam, and she knew he was safe, what happened to her afterward was irrelevant.

  CHAPTER 5

  With his back against the log wall, Adam sat on the floor in the front corner of the cabin, humming tunes he'd remembered from his childhood, while whittling what he hoped would turn out to be a frog. In the wood pile, he'd found a small chunk of wood with a knot on it, and already it had the rough shape of a frog, so with the smallest blade on his pocket knife, he began carving away everything that wasn't a frog. But this frog would have a smile. He hoped Jesse would want to take it with him in the tub, which was sitting in front of the fireplace, waiting to be filled with water when Jesse was ready.

  Adam had been sitting in the same spot for the better part of an hour, carving and humming, while Emily was in the kitchen preparing a meal from the canned goods he'd brought earlier. Periodically, Adam caught a movement in the hallway, and on one occasion looked up
and saw Jesse watching, but when he smiled, Jesse moved back into the shadows, so Adam continued carving and humming.

  While Emily was spooning pork and beans from a can into a pot on the wood stove, she joined Adam by filling in the words to the tune Adam was humming, singing aloud, "All around the cobbler's bench, the monkey chased the weeeeea......sel, the monkey thought it was all in fun... pop goes the weasel."

  On the word, "Pop," Adam made the frog jump. Then he started humming again, and again, Emily sang the words, and again on "pop" the frog jumped. On occasion Adam glanced over and saw that Jesse was in the hallway, silently watching, his knuckle in his mouth.

  Deciding the frog was as near to a frog as it was going to be, Adam inched his way across the floor on his belly, set the frog down just outside the hallway, and returned to his corner, and this time, started whittling a crude boat from another chunk of wood. But after a few minutes, he looked up and saw Jesse standing just inside the living room, looking at the frog.

  While Jesse's attention was focused on the little wooden carving, Adam had a chance to study his son. He was a sturdy little boy, with dark curly hair that would straighten some around age eight or nine, like it had with every other Hansen kid in the family. And like the others, Jesse's eyes were dark and curious as he stood staring at the frog, as if wanting to pick it up, but not daring. Adam could see some resemblance to Emily, maybe in his brows and around his chin, but mainly Jesse was all Hansen, just like the rest of them, except for Marc.

  They hadn't heard a word from Marc, ever since he sped off in his truck over three-and-a-half years before, and Adam often wondered where he was. Raised as fraternal twins, they'd never been close like twins should be, and he regretted it now. Most of all, he regretted the angry words he'd had with Marc after they'd learned the truth about their births. Not only were they not fraternal twins, they weren't even related by blood, only by Marc's adoption.

  And now Marc was out there somewhere trying to find his real family, and with every Christmas, their mother became more depressed. Ever since Marc left she'd never decorated the house like she once had or made dozens of cookies to hang on the tree or had everyone gather around the table to make that year's ornaments. Even now, a week before Christmas, the tree stood undecorated, and their mother claimed they'd get to it the next day.

  "Jesse, honey," Emily called out. "Come have dinner and after you finish, Daddy will fill the tub and you can bathe Mr. Ducky, and Mr. Frog, and I think Daddy's making a boat for you to push around in the tub too. Would you like that?"

  Jesse eyed Adam with apprehension, then saying nothing, moved in a sideways step along the back wall of the cabin, gradually making his way to the table where he crawled up onto a chair. After glancing at Adam one more time, he looked at his bowl of pork and beans, then picked up the spoon Emily fashioned for him by bending the handle backwards into a loop, and silently ate.

  "Jesse, Daddy's going to come sit with us now so he can eat too," Emily said.

  "No," Jesse replied, shoving out a stiff arm with a palm facing Adam. He started to get down, but Emily put her hand on his arm, and said, "It's okay, honey. Daddy can come eat with us. He loves you." She looked over at Adam and motioned with her head for him to come over, but when Adam stood, Jesse slipped off the chair and headed for the hallway. But as he passed the frog he snatched it up off the floor and ran into the bedroom and shut the door.

  Emily put a bowl of beans on the table for Adam, along with a package of crackers and a mug of coffee, and said, "At least he took the frog, so he mustn't be afraid you'll come after him and take it away. That's a big step forward for him." After refilling her mug with coffee, she sat on the chair beside Adam, instead of across from him, and said, in a hushed voice, "Thank you for understanding Jesse. It's making a difference."

  "He's my son," Adam said. "I told you I'd do right by him."

  "I know," Emily replied. "I just wanted you to hear it from me." She wanted Adam to hear a lot of things. Mostly, she wanted him to know how much everything he'd ever done for her meant. It always had. And now Jesse would grow to love Adam the way a little boy should love his father. Maybe better than most little boys, because Jesse's father was an exceptional man.

  Adam looked toward the hallway, then at Emily, and said, "After Jesse gets used to me and we have DNA tests run to prove he's my son, what then? He's still Erik's legal son. Erik might not be able to take him away from you, but he could take him away from me."

  Emily was on the verge of telling him just how much legal power Erik did have, but knowing it wasn't timely, she said, "Please, Adam. I don't want to talk about Erik. Like you said, we need to take things one step at a time."

  "That was in reference to you and me, not Jesse and me," Adam pointed out. "I'll do whatever it takes to get full legal rights to Jesse so Erik never comes near you or Jesse again, but you also need to file a restraining order against Erik. He threatened you, and you have a right to get the order. If you don't, I will."

  "No," Emily said, quickly. "That is, don't you do it. I will when the time's right."

  Adam eyed her with misgiving. He couldn't help thinking she was hiding something. "When, exactly, will the time be right?" he asked, "when Erik finally figures out where you are and comes here in the dead of night to take Jesse?"

  "A restraining order wouldn't stop Erik," Emily said. "If he figures out where I am he'll stalk me, and when he gets me alone he'll… do what he said he'd do."

  Adam was on the verge of telling her this whole damn mess could have been avoided if she'd married him as planned instead of dumping him the moment the bastard showed up in her life again, but the last thing Jesse needed was to hear harsh words between his parents, so biting back a retort, he said, "I'll heat up the water for Jesse's bath and roll out my sleeping bag on the couch."

  As Adam was stuffing paper into the boiler, Emily said, "You don't have to sleep on the couch. I'm okay if you want to sleep with me."

  Adam paused midway, one hand gripping a small log, the other holding a scrunched up piece of paper, and said, "The last time I did you got pregnant with my son and ran off with another man. It's not going to happen again." Shoving the wood and paper into the firebox, he struck a match to it and shut the door, then went out on the porch to get his bedroll.

  It was going to be one hell of a long night, knowing that not more than ten feet away would be the woman he'd been obsessing over for years, and all he'd have to do would be to crawl in bed with her and she'd welcome him with open arms, and he'd bury himself in her body, and in his distorted mind life would be right again, but by morning he'd be back on the same old roller coaster with her, with Erik out there somewhere, ready to take possession of her again. But whereas Erik might coerce Emily into going back to him, if he tried to take Jesse he'd have a fight to the death, because that's the only way Erik would get Jesse back.

  ***

  Adam arrived home the following day to find Maddy and his mother decorating the Christmas tree. Still, the room was bare in comparison to years past when his mother hung crocheted snowflakes in the windows, and had decorations of fir boughs and hand-dipped candles and pinecones with glitter on the mantel and in the center of the table. Nor had she baked fruit cakes for the neighbors or prepared gingerbread slabs to be made into gingerbread houses, or made cookies to decorate and hang on the tree. When Marc left, it was as if he'd taken Christmas with him, because their mother couldn't seem to bring herself to do the things she'd once done, as if the holiday season had lost its luster.

  Maddy, catching sight of Adam, held out something in her hand, and said to him, "Here, put this on top of the tree instead of the angel."

  Adam looked at a lopsided cardboard star covered in glitter and remembered the Christmas Marc helped Maddy make the star. It had been part of the Christmas decorating tradition that they all decorate the tree together, and everybody would hang their homemade ornaments from years past on the tree. But the first year after Marc left and he wasn't t
here to add his ornaments to the tree, when Maddy started asking questions about why he'd left, their mother's eyes teared up and she left the room, and their dad went into the bedroom and shut the door, and the tradition just sort of dwindled to what it was now—Maddy getting things started and the rest of them acting as if things were fine and joining in.

  As his mother stood staring at the star in Maddy's hand, Adam took it and said, "That's a good idea, honey." He clipped the star onto the top of the tree. Then he looked at his mother and said, "Where are the boys?" Grace didn't answer because her eyes were fixed on the star, and her mind was clearly somewhere else. "Mom? The boys. Where are they?"

  Grace blinked, and replied, "Oh, they're doing things with friends."

  "You used to insist everyone be here to decorate the tree," Adam said.

  "I guess the time slipped away," Grace replied. "Christmas came so fast this year."

  Adam was on the verge of reminding his mother that, maybe one of her children left the family, but she still had six others.

  "Come on," Adam said to Maddy. "Let's finish decorating the tree then you and I are going to cut some fir branches and fix up something for the center of the table." He didn't want to leave Emily and Jesse alone at the cabin too long, but he couldn't let his mother's ongoing depression spoil Christmas for Maddy and the others.

  Crouching over the box of ornaments, he saw that Maddy had separated Marc's ornaments from the rest and piled them together in the corner of the box, which seemed to emphasize that Marc had never really been one of them, at least not in his mind. Ironically, the ornament resting on top was the one Marc had done the year they'd made fake leaded glass ornaments out of clear plastic and liquid lead they squeezed from a tube then filled in the sections with glass stain. He'd made a reindeer, but Marc made an arrowhead.

  As was the norm, he and Marc had gotten into it that day, he telling Marc it was stupid to hang an arrowhead on a Christmas tree, and Marc telling him it wasn't as stupid as hanging a horse with horns, and their getting into a heated argument that their mother broke up by telling them the gingerbread house was ready for decorating if they could do it without fighting. They'd assured her they could, then promptly started arguing about anything and everything from where gumdrops and candy canes should go to whose icing squiggles were best.