“Don’t work yourself to a frazzle,” he warned. “You need to look after yourself, too.”
She gazed into his eyes and saw genuine concern there. It was the first time in as long as she could remember that anyone had been truly worried about her well-being. It had mattered to Will only as far as her ability to campaign on his behalf.
“I’m fine,” she reassured Justin. “But I’d better be getting back into town. With the hours I’m putting in at Dolan’s, I don’t like to leave Billy with a sitter in the evenings, too.”
“Mind if I come along?” Justin asked. “I promised him I’d be by to play with those toys we bought. I haven’t had a chance up until now. Frankly, I could use a break from all this.”
“He’d like that.”
“And you? Would you like that, too?”
She knew what he was really asking, but she wasn’t sure she entirely trusted his motives. Did it really matter to him whether she was beginning to care for him or was he simply trying to test her again? Even though it had been days since their last talk and despite all that had happened, she doubted Justin had forgotten all the questions he had about her past.
“Of course,” she said cheerily. “If you haven’t eaten yet, you can share a pizza with us.”
“Why don’t I pick it up on my way and meet you at the house?”
“I can do it.”
“Why should you when I can and you can get home to Billy that much sooner?”
She grinned. “Okay, when you put it like that, how can I argue? But I insist on paying for it.”
“We’ll discuss that later.”
“Justin!” She took a twenty from her purse and tried to press it into his hands. He jammed his hands into his pockets and defied her to follow with the money. She was tempted to do just that, but the prospect of finding her own hand trapped between his and his body with only a layer of denim in between rattled her too badly. That jittery temptation was proof enough that she had no business getting in any kind of intimate contact with him.
She sighed. “Okay, you win. We’ll discuss it later.”
He grinned. “It’s nice to see that you can compromise.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“Sure, darlin’. I have it on the best authority that compromise is very important in any relationship.”
Patsy didn’t know whether to cheer or turn tail and run at the mention of the word relationship. She and Justin weren’t having a relationship. It was impossible.
But, oh, how she wished it weren’t.
“Patsy?”
Startled, she glanced up and met Justin’s worried frown.
“Everything okay?”
“Sure,” she lied. “Just trying to remember how big a mess the house is in. I’d hate for you to walk in and wonder if a tornado blew through. After all, it is your sister’s place. I’d hate to have her evict me.”
“There’s no chance of that,” he assured her. “And don’t worry about the state of your housekeeping. With all the nieces and nephews running around in this family, no one knows the meaning of tidy anymore.”
“Not even you? You live alone and, as I recall, your place was spotless the one time I came over.”
“That’s because I’m never there. And it’s not tidy. It’s sterile. Give me chaos any day. It’s what makes the difference between a house and a home.”
“Maybe I should let Billy come and visit for an afternoon. The resulting mess ought to send you into raptures.”
“I’d love it,” he said, much to her amazement. “In the meantime, let’s get into town. Suddenly I’m starved for the first time in days.”
The gleam in his eyes was a reminder that food was not the only thing a man could be starved for. Patsy was drawn to that look, wanted desperately to respond to it, but decency prevented it.
She had the whole long drive into town to wonder how long she could allow this marital limbo to drag on. It was unfair to Billy and to her. Maybe even to Will. Most of all, though, it was unfair to Justin, because he didn’t even know what he was up against.
How was she going to resolve it? Could she simply file for divorce long-distance and pray that Will went along with it? Thinking he would was a foolish idea. He was a very possessive man. Even though she knew he no longer loved her—if he ever had—he would fight the divorce if only because he would fear the damage to his image if he let her go. He would demand custody of Billy for the same reason.
Her feet were dragging as she walked into the house, not just from exhaustion, but from despair. How could she ever truly move on with her life, build a real future for herself and her son, unless she resolved things with Will? She’d been crazy to think that simply running away would solve all of her problems. It had removed her and Billy from harm’s way, but it had created a whole new set of problems.
Still the thought of seeing Will again under any circumstances terrified her. She had weathered a lot in the past couple of months. She was far stronger than she’d been when she’d run from Oklahoma, but was she strong enough for the battle that was likely to ensue?
Before she could reach any conclusion at all about that, Billy came running toward her, arms held high, a piece of paper clutched in one tiny hand.
“Mama, Mama, Mama,” he chanted. “Me drew picture for you. See?”
She took the paper and looked at the colorful scribbles. They were meaningless to her, but clearly not to her son. She hunkered down beside him. “This is beautiful,” she said admiringly. “Tell me about it.”
“I drewed us. We’re a family. See?” He pointed to the littlest batch of swirls and lines. “That’s me. And that’s you.”
“Ah,” she said, seeing the relative difference in sizes, if not the identifying details. “And this?”
“That’s Daddy.” There was a mulish lift to his chin when he said it, then added, “Want to see Daddy.”
“Daddy’s far away,” she reminded him.
“Want to see him.”
“Maybe we can call him later.”
“Now,” Billy demanded. “Call now.”
Patsy sighed. She had promised him days ago that they would call his daddy, but there had never been time to take a trip to some out-of-the-way pay phone that couldn’t be traced. Obviously she would have to make the time.
“Tomorrow,” she promised. She would get one of the women who’d volunteered to help out at Dolan’s in Sharon Lynn’s absence to fill in long enough for her to take Billy to make the phone call. “Now why don’t we get you cleaned up? Justin’s coming over and he’s bringing pizza.”
The mention of his favorite food—to say nothing of his favorite grown-up playmate—was enough to distract him. She went into the living room where Flo Bartle was waiting. Flo lived next door and, since the accident, had taken over baby-sitting duty when Dani’s staff left for the day.
“Flo, I can’t thank you enough for looking out for Billy for me.”
“No problem. He’s an angel. You do whatever you need to do to help out Sharon Lynn. There are plenty of us who can pitch in and help with Billy. All I’d be doing at home is watching my husband snooze through the national news. Believe me, I’d rather be here.”
“Justin’s bringing a pizza by. Would you like to stay?”
“No, indeed. I’d have heartburn the rest of the night.” She winked. “Besides, I doubt Justin’s coming by so he can look at an old lady across the table.”
“It would be fine,” Patsy insisted. “Justin and I are just friends.”
“If you say so, dear. Just remember there are friends and then there are friends.”
“Hey, Mrs. B.,” Justin called out as he came up the walk carrying a huge pizza box. “You get more beautiful every time I see you.”
“Then your eyesight’s going, boy, or else you’re as full of blarney as every
other male in your family.”
He dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I’m a deputy sheriff, Mrs. B. I’m sworn to uphold the law and to tell the truth, so help me God.”
The teasing comment put a sparkle in her neighbor’s eyes, but it sent a shiver down Patsy’s spine. Once again she’d been reminded of the position she’d been putting Justin in since the day they’d met. It had to stop.
Tomorrow, she vowed to herself as she had to Billy earlier. Tomorrow, when she called Will, she would test the waters and see if there was any way to put an end to all the lies and deception or whether she was doomed to a life in limbo.
Chapter Ten
It was the first time since the night of the accident that Justin had let himself relax. He was stretched out on the floor in Patsy’s living room, his back braced against the sofa, the empty pizza box off to one side, as he watched Billy struggle to build a tower with a new set of blocks.
One block, two, then eventually six, stacked in a way that virtually assured disaster. With awkward fingers Billy tried to put the seventh block on top, only to set the whole stack to teetering dangerously. Justin reached over and steadied it, but balance was elusive. It toppled over, sending Billy into fits of giggles.
“Again,” he insisted, putting the first block into place.
“Maybe it needs a bigger base,” Justin suggested idly.
“What’s a base?” Billy demanded.
“More blocks on the bottom.” He reached over and set four of the colorful plastic blocks into a square, then stacked two on top of that. “See, like this.”
“Won’t fall down?” Billy asked skeptically.
“Nope.”
“’Kay,” Billy agreed, and added another block to the pile, then another.
When it all teetered and fell again, he stared at it with a look of such betrayal in his eyes that Justin felt like a heel. This time tears, rather than giggles, accompanied the architectural disaster.
“Maybe I’m not as good an engineer as I thought,” he apologized.
“Or maybe your work crew isn’t past the apprentice stage yet,” Patsy suggested, grinning at them. “It’s Billy’s bedtime, anyway.”
“No,” Billy said at once, even though his eyelids had been drooping for the past half hour.
“I’ll put you to bed and tell you a story,” Justin offered.
Billy’s eyes widened. “You will?”
“Indeed, I will. I’ll tell you the story about a girl named Little Red Riding Hood and this big, bad wolf.”
“No. Want rabbit story.”
Justin shrugged. “Then the rabbit story it will be, but I gotta tell you, kid, the big, bad wolf is much more of a guy thing.”
“He might be a little young for guy things,” Patsy said, her expression amused. “And you won’t be the one left to deal with the nightmares.”
“Okay, Mom. I bow to your superior knowledge on the subject,” he said, scooping Billy up and tickling him until he giggled. The sound was pure delight, so he kept it up. It reminded him of things like innocence and simple pleasures. It reminded him of all the things he wanted and that were out of reach.
“You realize, of course, that if you do that much more he’ll never get to sleep,” Patsy observed.
Justin shook his head and gave Billy a sympathetic look. “Moms just don’t get it, do they?”
Billy shook his head. “Don’t get it.”
He carried Billy into his room and helped him into his pj’s, then settled him in bed. He’d done the same thing a hundred times with his nieces and nephews, but there was something different about putting Billy to bed. The kids in his family all had adoring dads of their own. He was just a welcome variance in their routine. With Billy he sensed that having a man put him to bed was a whole new experience. He seemed wide-eyed that Justin would want to, and pitifully eager to prolong the storytelling as long as possible.
“Read it again,” he begged, even though he could barely hold his eyes open after the second time.
“Close your eyes and go to sleep,” Justin countered. “I’ll read for five more minutes, but you’d better be snoozing when I’m done.”
Billy smiled contentedly and snuggled down beneath the covers. He dutifully closed his eyes. As Justin had expected, he was sound asleep before Justin had finished reading the first page. Justin sat for a moment longer and stared at the boy, amazed by the sense of yearning that came over him.
Why had he waited so long before claiming nights like this for himself? He’d been dating forever—maybe not as extensively as Harlan Patrick, but enthusiastically. The idea of settling down had never once crossed his mind until now.
He sighed heavily. It would have to be a woman with secrets and a boy with coal black eyes who drew him. Something told him that down that path lay heartache. The new report that had landed on Tate’s desk today confirmed it. Will Longhorn was now claiming that Patsy had kidnapped their son. The stakes had escalated way past his own needs and longings.
He was still sitting there when he sensed Patsy behind him. He jolted when her hand came to rest on his shoulder. The touch was as light and tentative as the flutter of a bird’s wings, but he felt as if it were the most intimate caress he’d ever shared.
“You guys finish your story?” she whispered.
“Twice,” he admitted.
“Dani was right. He does have you wound around his little finger. I thought you were made of tougher stuff than that.”
“He gets to me.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Is it possible for a man to feel an instinctive bond with a child who’s not his own?”
“Adoptive dads do that all the time.”
“True.” He glanced over his shoulder into her eyes. “Maybe I’m just getting to a time in my life when I’m thinking about a family and wondering when I’ll have one of my own.”
“You will when you want to,” she said. “You come from a long line of men who go after whatever they want. They’re all family men, with deep roots. You’re no different.”
“What happens if I pick the wrong woman?” he inquired softly, meeting her gaze evenly. “What if I pick someone who’s not free to love me back?”
He saw the flare of alarm in her eyes, the sudden rush of dismay that stripped the color from her cheeks.
“What are you saying?” she asked, her voice shaky.
He refused to look away or to yield to her obvious panic. “I’m just wondering, hypothetically, what would happen to my dreams if I fell in love with a woman who’s not available? Where would that leave me?”
Rather than answer, she whirled and left the room. Justin followed slowly. He found her on the front porch, staring out at the night sky. He walked up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders, much as she had done to him earlier. He could feel her trembling, felt the buck of her pulse where his thumb rested against her neck.
And then he felt the hot splash of a tear on his hand. It almost brought him to his knees. He hadn’t meant for her to cry, hadn’t meant to shake her so badly that she would run from him. He’d just wanted to prod her into opening up at last. Maybe a direct, straightforward question would have been better, after all.
He turned her gently, then pulled her into his arms. She resisted for no more than a heartbeat, then rested her head against his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized.
“For what?”
“Pushing again.”
“It’s not that.”
“What then?”
She drew in a deep, shuddering breath, then whispered, “You know, don’t you? I’ve sensed it for days now.”
His own breath caught in his throat. At last, he thought. At last there would be truth between them.
And then what? he wondered to himself. What the hell would he do when
the truth was out? There would be no turning back, then. What if it started them both down a path that destroyed any hope of the future he’d been envisioning just a short time before?
“Know what?” he asked, because he had to, because it was the only thing to do. The kidnapping charge was too serious to be ignored, no matter how ridiculous he might believe it to be.
“About me.” She drew in a deep breath, then blurted, “That I’m married.”
He sighed. He’d hoped, prayed, that he’d been wrong about that, that she was divorced at least, but the report on Tate’s desk hadn’t lied. Will Longhorn was still her husband. What was the rest of the truth, though? Were they in the process of getting a divorce? Was there a battle for custody? Had she kidnapped their son to avoid losing him to her husband? Justin didn’t believe that, even though it would explain the skittishness, the use of her maiden name, rather than her husband’s. He would lay odds that she had every right to have that boy with her.
“Maybe I’m the wrong person for you to talk to about this,” he said finally.
She regarded him incredulously. “You forced this into the open and now you don’t want to talk about it?”
He touched a silencing finger to her lips. “It’s not that I don’t want to hear everything. I just think maybe it would be best if you talked to Janet.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s an attorney and a damned fine one. If you’re in trouble, she can help. She’ll want to, you know that. You won’t go wrong listening to her.”
“Who says I need an attorney?”
“I do,” he said, a gentle hand on her cheek. “Listen to me. Talk to Janet.”
“Justin, how much do you know?”
“Not everything,” he admitted. “I know that your husband is looking for you.”
She sighed. “I thought he might be. What else?”
“He’s accusing you of kidnapping your baby.”
She stared at him in shock. “Kidnapping? That’s absurd. Billy is mine as much as he is Will’s. There’s been no divorce, no custody battle. There’s no way he could accuse me of kidnapping my own son.” She regarded him with a panicky expression. “Could he?”
Wildflower Ridge Page 12
