Rachel Laine (The Women of Merryton Book 3)

by Peel, Jennifer

  “Honey,” I said, “we’re not getting married. Why would you think that?”

  Disappointment washed over his little face. “Because I saw you two on the couch together on Christmas and I’ve been praying for it every day because you said God answers prayers.”

  So we hadn’t been fooling anyone, including my eight-year-old son.

  I held his sweet cheek in my hand. “Is that why you wrote that essay for school about your ‘new dad’?”

  He nodded.

  Andrew looked my way with interest. I would have to show him the essay later. First, we needed to clear this up with our son.

  “Bud, Andrew and I don’t have to get married for him to be your dad. He already is your dad.”

  His response indicated he wasn’t getting it. “But you still could.”

  I shook my head no. Drew wasn’t the only one disappointed by that.

  “Drew.” Andrew took the floor. “I knew your biological mother.”

  “You knew Mom Sydney?” That’s what he called her, if ever we talked about her. I always thought it was sweet.

  Andrew, for the first time, looked nervous. I was nervous for him. I wasn’t sure how he was going to explain this.

  “I did know her. And we made you.”

  That made me want to laugh, but I held back. Besides, Drew shocked the heck out of me. “You had sex?”

  I’m not sure my head ever whipped around so fast. “How do you know about sex?” I hadn’t known I needed to have this talk with him yet. Apparently, I was naïve.

  “My friend at school told me if you want to make a baby, you have to have sex.”

  “What else did he tell you?”

  “That sex is bad.”

  “Sex isn’t bad, but we’ll talk more about that later.” After I’m done having my nervous breakdown.

  “Do we have to?”

  I nodded.

  Drew turned his attention back to Andrew and asked his most poignant question yet. Thankfully it had nothing to do with sex, but it broke my heart, and if I had to guess, Andrew’s too. “So, if you made me, how come you didn’t want me?”

  Andrew pulled Drew to him for a bear hug. “I want you more than anything. I didn’t know about you until last year when I met your mom.”

  “Are you really my dad?”

  “Yes. I love you, son.”

  Deep breaths.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I needed lots of deep breaths these days. My worst fears hit me straight on. Well, not the worst one. Andrew swore he wouldn’t sue for custody; he wasn’t even calling for a paternity test. He claimed Drew, and that was enough for him. I did agree to have him placed on Drew’s birth certificate, but that was the least of my worries. Here’s a life lesson: never sleep with someone famous, and especially never have a child with them. More importantly, if you do, don’t blackmail them and leave them notes with your sister’s name and location on them. And don’t ever, and I mean ever, allow yourself to fall for them. If you thought Merryton loved to be in everyone’s business, it had nothing on the Denver media.

  But the chaos was caused by Merryton, or at least a resident of Merryton. Veronica Riley thought it would be a good idea to tip off the press. The press hadn’t known why Andrew dropped out—there was only speculation—but the wicked witch who loved the color green thought she needed some of the limelight.

  Drew’s first day back to school the following week, I got a call from his principal telling me they had a situation. I had already had several calls that day from different media outlets, all asking for an interview. “No comment,” was my reply before hanging up each time. I ran out of the office to find I had a situation as well. I had two news vans in my parking lot. As soon as I came out, I had cameras flashing in my face, and a man and woman running up to me with microphones in hand throwing questions at me.

  “How long have you known that Andrew Turner was your son’s father?”

  “Is it true your sister died in childbirth?”

  “How do you feel about Rex Jones alleging that he could be your son’s father?”

  I ignored them as I hurried to my car, until that last one. I made the mistake of stopping and looking at the bloodhounds. They knew their question got to me, and they went into a feeding frenzy. I didn’t even know who Rex Jones was. My shock and dazed look only made them snarl with delight. They were happy to inform me.

  “Rex Jones, former Bears player and teammate of Andrew Turner, claims that he was the one in a relationship with your sister, and that Andrew is lying about paternity.”

  I was ill, like physically ill. Nausea almost consumed me. How I stumbled into my car, I don’t remember, but I wasn’t concerned about running any of them over as I backed out of my parking space. All the way over to Drew’s school, I kept telling myself Andrew was Drew’s father. As weird as it sounded, I needed to believe that. I wanted Andrew to be his dad. Andrew loved Drew, and Andrew had promised no legal involvement. All the while, though, I blasted both him and Sydney in my head. Why couldn’t Andrew have listened to me and not run for office or at least waited? In reality, I only had myself to blame; I shouldn’t have let fear rule me. I shouldn’t have fallen for a pair of amber eyes.

  The nightmare continued when I arrived at Drew’s school to see several more media outlets across the street from the elementary school. Who thinks that’s okay? When they noticed me, they rushed my car. I could barely understand them, but of course I picked out the most horrid of all the questions. “Is it true your sister was addicted to drugs? Has that affected your son’s health in anyway?”

  Where the heck did that one come from? Of all Sydney’s issues, drugs was never one of them. At least not that I knew of. She was clean when she ended up on my doorstep. I don’t even think she drank while she was pregnant with Drew. She may not have received prenatal care like she should have, but carrying Drew seemed to ignite some sense of responsibility in her. At least enough for her not to harm her unborn child.

  I hoped Veronica Riley slipped in her nine-inch heels and broke her neck. Was she really this jealous of my sister after all these years? Sydney’s and Landon’s fling was before they were married. And it’s not like he hadn’t had any flings after they got married.

  By the time I got through the mess and parked, I needed a paper bag to breathe into. Andrew wasn’t kidding when he said this could get ugly. This was downright monstrous. At least the vultures weren’t allowed on school property.

  When I walked up to the school’s entrance, I lost it. Several staff members, including Eric Kessler, had come out to usher me in. Their kindness was my undoing. The tears that had been on the cusp of falling made their journey down my cheeks. I was promptly handed several tissues. I took them each with a smile of thank you.

  “Sam’s on his way,” Principal Mack informed me.

  Sam Patrick was the sheriff, my first high school flame lost to Sydney, and now my friend. He was a senior when we were sophomores. We only dated a couple of months, but I’d had the biggest crush on him since junior high. Now he was married with three beautiful children. Once in a while we would have a laugh about the good ole days. Or he would apologize for being such a bonehead. It all worked out. His wife Charity was the cutest thing ever, and we were much better at being friends. And I had my life, which I was satisfied with until one Andrew Turner upended it and made me want more. Look what that brought.

  I nodded. Calling Sam was a good idea. I should have thought of it. “Thank you,” I mumbled.

  I sat in Principal Mack’s office feeling like I really was in trouble, but this was way worse than any detention. Not like I ever got detention. That was Sydney’s favorite pastime.

  “How are you holding up?” Jen Mack handed me another tissue from her desk.

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “Does Drew know about the media outside?”

  “No. We’re having indoor recess for all classes today.”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this would create such
a stir.”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault people have an unhealthy appetite for what’s none of their business.”

  That may be true, but why did I feel like this was my fault?

  Sam was there before we knew it. He walked in looking like he was ready to fight. Besides being a large man, he had a presence that said he meant business. If you knew him well enough, you would know that wasn’t the case. He was really a teddy bear on the inside. Not that you wanted to get on his bad side, which I think was the case for the unwanted visitors.

  “There’s not much under the arm of law I can do to remove them, but we’ll take care of them, don’t you worry.” He seemed excited about the prospect. For a moment, I saw the boy Sam that had hoisted an outhouse onto the school roof. Who knew he would ever become the sheriff?

  “Thanks.” I sniffled.

  “I sent one of my deputies to check out your place, and it didn’t look much better out there.”

  That more than anything made me feel violated. The tears started back up.

  “Now don’t you worry your pretty little head. Your road is privately owned, so we issued a few citations.” His grin showed the pleasure that gave him.

  I gave a small smile in return.

  “I’m going to have someone patrol your road and the county road leading into it until this dies down.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Who knew our quiet little Rachel could cause such a ruckus? Now, Sydney, on the other hand...” I always detected a hint of guilt whenever he mentioned her name around me.

  “Sydney is partially to blame.”

  “I suppose she is. Who knew she had famous friends?”

  Certainly not me. “Thanks, Sam. I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

  “Are you kidding? I love to show these city slickers a thing or two. Besides, it beats writing traffic tickets.”

  I sniffled a little.

  “I’m going to follow you home.”

  “I don’t want Drew to think anything is wrong. I especially don’t want him to think Andrew being his dad is a bad thing.”

  “Hmm.” Sam thought for a moment. “How about I let him ride in the backseat of my patrol car and we follow you home with the lights on? I’ll talk to him about what it’s like to be a police officer.”

  “He would love that. Thank you.” The never-ending tears started up again.

  “Now don’t go crying. My wife will get after me.” He touched my shoulder. “It’s going to be all right.”

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  As predicted, Drew thought going home in a police cruiser was the coolest thing ever, well almost. Andrew took that cake. Drew couldn’t have been happier that Andrew was his dad. At least I was almost positive Andrew was his dad. What if this Rex guy was?

  Andrew was dealing with his own barrage of negative press and had been keeping a low profile. News crews were crawling over his estate in Highlands Ranch. Each news cast ruthlessly debated his decision and the harm he had done to his party and his own political aspirations. Not to mention questioning his integrity and motives. At least no one knew about the letter, or how he found out Drew was his. All the press knew was that it was a recent revelation.

  Andrew was right, they interviewed old teammates and anyone willing to dish on him, former girlfriends included. Only one of those had taken the bait, and I knew she was a liar. She bragged that they had been together this past Christmas holed up in her cabin in Aspen. She was clearly not over him, but that didn’t stop her from telling the sleazeball reporter that she wasn’t surprised that Andrew fathered a child. “It was bound to happen, considering how many women he bedded over his career,” she crooned.

  I would have quit watching the news altogether, but it was better to know what I was facing head on. Maybe. I was losing a lot of sleep over it, and my anger and sympathy for Andrew only grew because of it.

  “Mom, can I call Andrew, I mean Dad? I want to tell him that I got to ride in a cop car.”

  “Sure.” I handed him my phone. “What do you want for dinner?” I couldn’t think anymore.

  “Tacos.”

  I could do that, I thought. I felt like I was shutting down, but I couldn’t. I had Drew and a business. People depended on me. But not only was I dealing with a mad house, I was dealing with it on top of a broken heart.

  I listened to Drew talk to his dad while I made dinner. The smell was getting to me. I still felt sick to my stomach over the day’s events. I couldn’t believe the chaos, and that I had to have police protection, in a manner of speaking. Words could not express my gratitude to Sam and this town of ours, minus the Rileys.

  “There were all sorts of people with cameras outside my school taking pictures. And Mom has been crying a lot. She told me not to talk to any strangers.”

  I knew it was only natural for him to tell Andrew these things, but it meant the phone got handed over to me.

  “Dad wants to talk to you.”

  I took the phone. “I’ll finish dinner in a minute. I’m going to talk to your dad in my room.”

  He shrugged and turned back to his homework.

  “Hello.”

  “Sounds like you’ve had a tough day.”

  “You could say that.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll have my lawyers deal with the press, and I’ll hire security for both of you in the interim.”

  “I’ve got it handled. The police here are taking care of us.”

  “Will you please let me take care of this?”

  “I think you’ve done enough, thanks.”

  “Rachel—”

  “I don’t need you. I don’t need people asking me if my sister was a drug addict or if some guy named Rex is Drew’s father, or how I feel that you may have fathered several more children. I don’t need any of this.” I sat against my bed and bawled over the phone.

  He waited until my crying had turned into shudders. “Honey,” he said with hesitation. He had no right to call me that. “You know Rex isn’t his father. He’s the same idiot I told you about who Sydney was seeing. He’s run out of money, and he was probably paid for the interview. And you know where I was on Christmas. Please tell me you don’t believe that woman.”

  I stayed silent. I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

  “I wish we could go back to Christmas, back to you in my arms.”

  “Just be a good father to Drew.” I couldn’t think about Christmas, or him.

  “I plan on it.”

  “That’s all that matters now.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The next day I woke up with a pounding headache, and more tired than I was before I slept. Only getting a couple of hours of sleep each night was killing me. As was this whole situation. The only bright spot was how Merryton had rallied around my little family.

  We arrived at school the next day. The vultures were still there, but their efforts were being thwarted. First, I had a police escort in and out, and as soon as Drew was out the door, he was covered under the protection of several teachers as he walked into school. And just for fun, the street cleaner moved in front of the ravenous beasts at the slowest pace ever, kicking up dirt and debris and spraying it at them. I took great pleasure in the sight.

  When I arrived at the office, it was more of the same, but this time Blake was the MVP. He decided to bump up my renovation schedule. He and his whole crew set up shop in my parking lot right in front of the news van. When the male reporter tried to run my way, he was stopped by Blake’s two-hundred-sixty-pound foreman. Sweet justice.

  Sam kept doing his part. Any reporter that came snooping around had to make sure they had a clean record. Sam was running names and taking no prisoners. One reporter had several unpaid parking tickets to his name and Sam kept him at the station, just in case the county where the infraction occurred wanted to pick him up. I don’t think there were any extradition laws between counties, but the guy was sweating bullets.

  Word was getting around that you didn�
��t want to mess with Merryton, and as the week wore on, the media dissipated. At least their physical presence. I didn’t answer my phone anymore unless I knew the number.

  One number was showing up more and more. Andrew was ready to be a daily part of Drew’s life. And now that the media presence was calming down, it was time. I was nowhere near ready for it, but I knew in my heart it was the right thing. Drew and Andrew needed each other. I had to accept it and move out of the way.

  Andrew came on Saturday to pick him up to spend the day with him and Evelyn in Evergreen.

  Drew rushed to the door when he knocked early that morning. They were both anxious to see each other. Andrew knelt down, barely in the door, and held Drew to him. “Are you feeling better?”

  “All better.” Drew lifted up his shirt to show off his small scars where his appendix was removed.

  “They look good.” Andrew stood up and, for the first time, acknowledged my presence. “Good morning.”

  I returned the greeting with a closed-lipped smile.

  “I’ll have him home around eight tonight. Does that work for you?”

  Not really. “Sure.” I held back the tears.

  “You look good. I never got to tell you, I like what you’ve done with your hair.”

  I looked down at my yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt. I was not at my finest. “Thanks.” He didn’t look his finest, either. He looked haggard. He had been beaten up in the media pretty badly. And for that I felt terrible.

  “I’ll take good care of him.”

  “I know.” I think that came out more as an eek.

  He approached me with care, and his warm lips landed on my cheek without warning. It was quick and unsure, as if he had dared himself to do it. “You could come with us,” he whispered.

  I shook my head no.

  “You know where we’ll be, if you change your mind.”

  I couldn’t change my mind. That’s what got me in this mess in the first place. I hugged and kissed my son and watched my life walk out the door.