Egan Cassidy's Kid

by Beverly Barton

  Egan sauntered across the room, heading toward Gil. Gil backed out of the kitchen and onto the screened-in porch. Egan went after him. Bent followed both men outside, as did Maggie.

  “I’ll wait in the car for you, Bent,” Gil said.

  “Bent won’t be going with you.” Egan’s voice possessed a dangerous undertone. “So, there’s no point in your waiting for him.”

  When Bent flew past Maggie, heading toward Gil, Egan reached out and clamped his big hand down on Bent’s shoulder. “You can leave with this man and break your mother’s heart. Is that what you want?”

  “I want to get away from you!” Bent shouted.

  “You can run away from me, if that’s really what you want to do, but nothing is going to change the fact that Gil Douglas isn’t your father. I am. Like it or not, you are my son, not his. You look like me. You talk like me. You even walk like me.”

  “I don’t want to be your son. Do you hear me?” Bent jerked out of Egan’s hold. “You don’t love my mother and you don’t love me. You never wanted to be a part of our lives. You weren’t here for us when we needed you. And when you finally showed up, it was only because some lunatic who hated you had kidnapped me!”

  “Oh, Bent,” Maggie cried. “I thought you understood why Egan left me, why he stayed away. It wasn’t because he wanted to.”

  “You say that I don’t love your mother or you,” Egan said. “You’re wrong on both counts. I loved your mother. That’s the reason I left her. I didn’t have the right to love her. And you…Bent…son…you have no idea what you mean to me or how much I love you.”

  Tears welled up in Bent’s eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  “What do I have to do to prove it to you?” Egan asked.

  Bent’s chin trembled. “I told you that I don’t believe you. There’s nothing you can do to prove it to me.”

  “Why don’t you stick around and give me a chance? That’s all I want. That’s all your mother is asking of us—of you and me. That we give ourselves a chance to get to know each other. Do you think she’s asking for too much?”

  “Bent, don’t listen to him.” Gil Douglas glanced anxiously back and forth from Bent to Egan. “You know you can’t trust him.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Bent said. “Maybe I can’t trust him. But I know one thing for sure and that’s that the one person who really loves me is Mama. Not you, Gil.” Bent glared at his adoptive father, then he focused his hard gaze on Egan. “And not you, either.” He turned to Maggie. “I won’t leave, Mama. I shouldn’t have called Gil and got him involved in our problems. I acted like a stupid kid. I really am sorry.”

  Maggie opened her arms and Bent ran to her. Egan marched toward Gil Douglas, who made a hasty retreat to the driveway. Egan followed, catching up with Gil just as he opened his car door.

  Egan grasped Gil’s shoulder and whirled Gil around to face him. “I believe in giving a man fair warning. You stay in Nashville and take care of your woman and your child. That woman—” Egan nodded at the house “—is mine. She always has been and she always will be. And that boy is my son. Mine. Not yours.”

  “You have no right to either of them. Not after the way you—”

  Egan tightened his hold on Gil’s shoulder. “I gave up Maggie, and unknowingly gave up my son, to protect them from a monster. But that monster no longer exists and I’m free to claim what’s mine. Neither Bent nor Maggie may ever be able to forgive me or allow me to be a permanent part of their lives, but I plan to do everything I can to persuade them that I deserve a second chance!”

  Egan released Gil’s shoulder and stepped aside. Gil jumped in his car, started the engine and sped out of the driveway. When Egan turned to go back to the house, he saw Maggie and Bent standing at the backyard gate. Waiting. Waiting for him.

  Chapter 15

  During his two months of recuperation, Egan had taken full advantage of his time with Maggie and Bent. He had realized early on that although Maggie would allow him to have a relationship with Bent no matter what happened between him and her, Egan could never have Maggie without a relationship with Bent. And he wanted them both. Unfortunately winning Bent over had turned out to be a formidable task. His son distrusted him and seemed to be testing him at every turn. But in all fairness, Egan had to admit that Bent was trying. Mostly to pacify Maggie. But Egan would gladly take whatever he could get, whatever Bent was willing to give.

  He and Maggie were walking on eggshells around Bent, both of them doing whatever they could to bring the three of them together as a family. Since school was out, they spent every weekend at the river, swimming, boating and soaking up the fresh air and sunshine. During the week they ate breakfast and dinner together and often Egan and Bent went into town at lunch to join Maggie for sandwiches at Rare Finds. And last week they had taken a family vacation to the Gulf Coast, staying at the Grand Hotel in Point Clear.

  Egan’s relationship with Bent had improved, but they still had a long way to go to ever truly be father and son. Right now they were friendly acquaintances. The situation with Maggie and him was a different matter, but in its own way just as difficult to handle. He wanted to ask Maggie to marry him, but until Bent truly accepted him, marriage was out of the question. And until he and Maggie were in a committed relationship, they could hardly carry on an affair right under their disapproving son’s nose. And disapprove he did!

  Days went fairly smoothly since Maggie was gone for eight hours. But nights were hell. He was sleeping in the guest bedroom down the hall from Maggie and every time they tried pulling off a midnight tryst, Bent interrupted them. Nothing like having your fourteen-year-old son as a strict chaperone. Egan knew that Maggie was as frustrated as he. The sexual tension between them had just about reached the explosion point.

  Egan had taken to writing at night and had just finished a new collection of Nage Styon verses. He would dedicate this book to Maggie and Bent.

  Egan lifted the pages from the desk and bound them together with a metal clip. He did all his work in longhand, never using a typewriter or a computer. He had driven into town this morning and made three copies. One to send his editor. One for Maggie and one for Bent.

  He carried the copies downstairs with him and placed them on the kitchen counter before he went outside and fired up the grill. He planned to have steaks ready when Maggie came home. He liked taking care of her, doing things that pleased her. By the way she glowed when he showed her the smallest amount of attention, he’d learned that it had been a very long time since anyone had made her feel special. If given the chance, Egan wanted to spend the rest of his life making Maggie feel like the most special woman in the world. And that’s exactly what she was—to him and to Bent.

  “Hey, you got time for a little one-on-one?” Bent bounced the basketball on the driveway, then tossed it into the net attached to the garage.

  “When did you get home?” Egan smiled at his son.

  “Chris dropped me off about ten minutes ago,” Bent said.

  “I didn’t know Chris was old enough—”

  “You’re as bad as Mama checking up on me and my friends.” Bent’s expression didn’t soften, but he spoke the words in a lighthearted manner. “Chris has his learner’s permit and his big brother was in the car. Satisfied?”

  Egan nodded. “Let me get the fire started in the grill, then I’ll shoot hoops with you until it’s time to put on the steaks.”

  Thirty minutes later, a hot and sweaty father and son took a break. Bent went into the kitchen and came back with individual bottles of water. He tossed one to Egan, then sat opposite him in a wicker chair on the back porch.

  “I…er…I was wondering if you might want to play in a softball game with me Saturday,” Bent said, then took a big swig of water, deliberately avoiding making eye contact.

  “I didn’t know you were on a team,” Egan said.

  “This is a special tournament sponsored by Chris’s church.” Bent gazed out across the backyard. “It’s a
charity thing.”

  “Sure, I’d be happy to play softball with you. But I have to warn you that I haven’t played in years. I’m pretty rusty.”

  “Ah, that won’t matter.” Bent shrugged. “All the other dads probably won’t be very good anyway. None of them are in as good a shape as you.”

  For a split second Egan’s heart stopped. All the other dads. All the other dads? This was the closest Bent had come to recognizing Egan as his father. Did his son even realize what he’d said?

  “So, what is it, a combination teens and old men’s game?” Egan asked jokingly.

  “Yeah, something like that.” Bent downed the rest of his water in one long giant swallow, then crushed the empty plastic bottle. He got up, went outside and tossed the bottle into the garbage. “Hey, I think the grill’s ready for those steaks.”

  Egan nodded, then went inside and took the marinated steaks from the refrigerator. When he opened the lid of the grill and laid the steaks on the rack above the smoldering coals, Bent came up beside him.

  “That softball tournament…it’s a ‘Father and Son’ thing,” Bent admitted. “I thought it would make Mama happy if we did something like that together.”

  Egan closed the lid on the steaks, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, you’re right. I think it would make Maggie happy.” Taking a chance, praying that Bent wouldn’t reject him, Egan laid his hand on Bent’s shoulder. “I have to admit that it makes me happy, too.”

  Bent grinned. Egan’s stomach knotted. This was the first genuine smile his son had given him. And it had taken only two months of diligent work to earn that smile.

  Relaxing in her recliner in the den, an unread novel in her hand, Maggie watched her two guys sitting side by side on the sofa. They laughed and shouted and shoved or punched each other occasionally while they watched the Atlanta Braves game on television. Seeing Bent and Egan together this way was the answer to many prayers. After two months of cautious courtesy toward his father, Bent had finally let down the walls around his emotions and was making a real effort to allow Egan into his life.

  Now, if only her overprotective son would give her permission to open her arms and her heart to Egan. Until the man she loved had come back into her life, she hadn’t been overly concerned about not having had sex in years. But now that Egan had reawakened the sensual woman within her, this self-imposed celibacy was killing her. Every night she lay alone in her bed, thinking about Egan. He slept just down the hall. A one-minute walk. But it might as well have been a thousand miles. Bent had been more observant and disapproving than her own father would have been.

  The telephone rang, jarring Maggie from her thoughts. She reached over and picked up the portable phone, then took note of the Caller ID number. Atlanta. The Dundee Agency. Maggie’s heartbeat accelerated. Ellen had contacted Egan weekly the first month, but she hadn’t phoned in weeks now.

  Maggie answered on the third ring. “Hello.”

  “Maggie, this is Ellen Denby. How are you?”

  “We’re fine. How about you?”

  “Doing okay.” Ellen paused. “I hate to bother y’all, but I’m afraid something has come up and we’re going to need Egan to make a trip to Chicago.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Is he around somewhere?”

  “Yes. He’s right here. He and Bent are watching a baseball game on TV.” Maggie held the phone out to Egan, who was looking at her questioningly. “It’s Ellen Denby.”

  Egan got up, reached out and took the phone. “Hi, there. What’s up?”

  “Remember the Marler case you worked on six months ago?” Ellen sighed. “Well, that case has come to trial. The assistant district attorney says he needs you to testify on Sybil Marler’s behalf day after tomorrow and he wants to consult with you beforehand.”

  “That means I’ll have to fly to Chicago in the morning,” Egan said. “How about faxing the particulars of the case to my hotel room once I get there. I need to refresh my memory on a few points.”

  “Just remember that Sybil’s husband is out on bail and he made some awfully ugly threats against you.”

  “I can handle Doyce Marler,” Egan said. “The man’s a pip-squeak.”

  “He’s a pip-squeak who gets his kicks by beating his wife and kids. A guy like that is capable of killing.”

  “If anyone gets killed, it won’t be me,” Egan assured Ellen. “I’d like nothing better than the opportunity to beat the hell out that SOB.”

  “After your trip to Chicago, will you be coming back to Atlanta?” Ellen asked. “Or do you plan to retire and take up residence in Alabama permanently?”

  “Depends,” Egan replied. “We’ve still got things to work out.”

  “Good luck. Call me when you get to Chicago.”

  “Thanks. And you’ll be hearing from me.”

  When Egan laid the phone on the coffee table, he noticed that Bent had moved across the room and now stood at Maggie’s side. Mother and son stared at him, looks of concern on their faces.

  “That was Ellen,” Egan said. “I have to fly to Chicago tomorrow to testify in a case I worked on six months ago.”

  “I thought you weren’t going back to work at Dundee’s,” Bent said. “You told us that you were thinking about retiring. You made us believe that you wanted to stay here with us.”

  “I do want to stay here with you and Maggie.” Egan’s stomach tightened with apprehension. “This trip shouldn’t last more than a few days.”

  “Isn’t there some way you can get out of going?” Bent asked. “Can’t somebody else testify?”

  “I’m afraid not. This was my case and I’m the one with the firsthand information.”

  “After Chicago, you’ll go back to Atlanta, won’t you?” Bent’s face flushed. He curled his hands into tight fists. “You’ve had your little family reunion, but things are getting pretty dull around here, aren’t they?”

  “No, son, that’s not true.” Egan held out his hand in a plea for understanding. “This is just a quick trip. I’ll come right back.”

  Bent turned to his mother. “You told me that if I gave him a chance, that if I’d let him be a father to me, he wouldn’t leave us. Well, it looks like you were wrong. Again!”

  “Bentley Tyson Douglas!” Maggie glowered at her son. “You’re acting like a child. You’re being totally unreasonable. Egan isn’t leaving us for good.” She turned to Egan. “Tell him! Make him understand.”

  “Yeah, Egan, make me understand.” Bent walked over to his father and looked him square in the eye.

  “Do you honestly think that I’d walk away from you and your mother and not come back?”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I think. You did it before, so what’s to stop you from doing it again. This trip to Chicago is just an excuse so you can leave without having to explain that the quiet life in Parsons City isn’t what you wanted.”

  “Bent…son…” When Egan tried to put his hand on Bent’s shoulder, the boy sidestepped him. “What can I say or do to prove to you that I’m telling you the truth?”

  “Don’t go to Chicago!”

  Egan’s shoulders slumped. “I have to go. If I don’t testify, a criminal could go free.”

  “Well, if you leave, don’t bother to come back!” Bent yelled. “Ever!”

  When Bent stormed out of the den, Egan started to go after him, but Maggie rushed over and grabbed Egan’s arm. “Don’t. He’s not going to listen to you. I know he’s acting irrationally, but right now his emotions are in charge. He’s convinced himself that you’re leaving us and I don’t think you’ll be able to persuade him otherwise.”

  Egan grabbed Maggie’s shoulder. “You know I’m coming back, don’t you?”

  Maggie’s chin quivered. “Yes, if you tell me that you’re coming back to us, then I believe you. But even if you come back, I’m afraid all the progress you’ve made with Bent these past two months may have been destroyed.”

  Egan wiped away a lone tear as it trickled down Maggi
e’s cheek. “I’m going to pack and leave tonight.” He pulled Maggie into his arms. “But when I come back—and I will be back as soon as I possibly can—I’ll fix things with Bent. I promise.”

  Two hours later, Maggie waited alone at the foot of the stairs as Egan came down with his suitcase in hand. After telling her that he’d be back when that man left, Bent had gone for a walk.

  Egan set his suitcase by the front door, then lifted Maggie’s hand into his and gave her the manuscript pages for his latest volume of poetry. “This is for you. And for Bent.”

  Maggie glanced down at the title page. Silence by Nage Styon. She flipped to the second page and read the dedication. To the love of my life, Maggie, and to Bent, the wonderful son she gave me.

  “Oh, Egan.” Gripping the manuscript tightly, she flung her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. “Thank you.”

  “You knew, didn’t you? You’ve known all along that I was Nage Styon.”

  “Yes, I’ve known ever since I bought the first volume of your poetry. If the name hadn’t given you away, then the sentiments of your verses would have. I saw my brother Bentley in every line.”

  “I left Bent a copy upstairs in his room.” Egan kissed Maggie, deeply and passionately, then released her and picked up his suitcase. “I’ll be back, Maggie mine. And that’s a promise you can take to the bank.”

  Maggie had been baking for four days. She had frozen cakes and pies and cookies—enough to feed an army for months. Despite what nagging fears remained in her heart, leftovers from the past, she kept telling herself repeatedly that Egan would come back to them. He had called every night, but Bent had refused to speak to him. Their son had been sulking ever since Egan left. If she didn’t understand that Bent was acting out of fear and hurt, she would have already given him a tongue-lashing. But she did understand. He had just begun to trust Egan, just barely opened up to his father, when Egan had been called away. Although Bent’s reaction might seem irrational to anyone else, she knew why her son had overreacted. He was beginning to love Egan and that love made him vulnerable.