Do you take this rebel?

by Sherryl Woods

  “Maybe I don’t enjoy swimming,” she said grumpily.

  “Since when?”

  “Since right this second.”

  He sighed heavily and sat beside her. “Okay, spill it. What’s really going on here? Did somebody sneak out of Stella’s today without paying the bill? Did somebody stiff you on your tip?”

  “Everything at work went just fine.”

  “Then this grouchiness has to do with me?”

  Him, the situation, the lies, everything. Her life was a mess. Not that she admitted any of that. Unfortunately, he seemed to interpret her silence as agreement.

  “What did I do?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she admitted. “You’ve been great.”

  “But?”

  Finally she leveled a look straight at him and repeated her earlier question. “Why are you here?”

  “To take you swimming.”

  “But why?”

  “Because it’s a hot day and I thought we could cool off in the river, then have a picnic. That used to be your favorite way to spend a summer evening.”

  It had also been what had gotten them into trouble. Being alone and scantily clad had led to steamy kisses and eventually, on that one memorable night, to making love. He wasn’t fooling her one bit. That was exactly the way he saw the evening ending tonight, too.

  “I’m not as young and foolish as I once was.”

  He frowned at that. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I am not interested in letting you seduce me.”

  She had expected anger or at the very least irritation, but instead he chuckled.

  “Okay, then, you can seduce me,” he said cheerfully. “I’m easy.”

  “No seduction, period.”

  He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter a bit to him one way or the other. “Suit yourself. Bring Jake along as a chaperon.”

  As if he’d been lurking just inside the door waiting for a chance to join them, Jake stepped onto the porch and let the screen door slam shut behind him.

  “Bring me where? And what’s a chaperon?”

  “You are grounded, young man,” Cassie said, regarding him sternly. “You’re not going anywhere. And eavesdropping is not polite.”

  “But, Mom…”

  “Inside,” she said, gesturing in that direction. “You know the rules.”

  “You’re ruining my whole summer,” he protested. He inched closer to Cole. “Tell her.”

  Though Cole looked as if he wanted to ask a whole lot of questions, he merely shrugged. “She’s your mother. You do as she says.”

  “But it’s not fair. What did I do that was so wrong? I just wanted to go over to see Cole. He said I could.” He gazed up at Cole. “Didn’t you? You said I could come anytime.”

  “With your mother’s permission,” Cole reminded him. “Is that what this is all about? You were sneaking off to the ranch again?”

  “More than once,” Cassie told him before facing Jake. “Inside now, or I swear I’ll add another day to your grounding.”

  Tears welled up in Jake’s eyes. “I hate you!” he shouted. “I hate you and I wish we’d never come here!”

  The words cut through her like well-aimed knives, but she couldn’t relent. She simply couldn’t. What she was doing was for the best.

  But then Jake whirled away from her, and instead of going inside as she’d ordered, he threw himself at Cole. “I wish you were my dad. Then I could come and live with you.”

  Dismay welled up in her throat. She wanted to cry out, to protest. She didn’t think she’d reacted aloud, but she must have, because Cole’s gaze shot to hers and suddenly she saw that he knew, that in that instant he’d guessed the truth she had been trying so desperately to hide.

  She also saw the cold rage in his eyes as it stripped away the warmth she’d come to yearn for.

  “Son,” he said, his voice faltering ever so slightly. His hand rested for just an instant on Jake’s head. Finally he added, “Do as your mother asked, Jake. Go inside.”

  Jake seemed to sense that the mood on the porch had shifted in some way. Though his expression remained sullen, he went into the house, but not without slamming the door emphatically behind him.

  Cassie waited, frozen, for Cole to say something, anything.

  His gaze was damning.

  “Is it true?” he asked eventually. “Is Jake my son?”

  She tried to speak, tried desperately to find the right words, but none came. Finally she just nodded.

  “And all this time you never said a word,” he said, regarding her with disbelief. “Not one single word.”

  “You’d left me,” she reminded him. “What was I supposed to do, run after you?”

  He winced at that, but his expression didn’t soften. “Yes,” he said. “You were supposed to come after me. I had a right to know.”

  “You left me,” she repeated. “You had no rights. None at all.”

  “That boy in there is my son,” he all but shouted. At her frantic glance toward the house, he lowered his voice. “I had rights, dammit! And so did he. He had the right not to be born a bastard. He had the right to have my name, my love.”

  “It wouldn’t have happened that way,” Cassie said flatly, knowing that his father would have prevented it. Her mother had been right about that. Frank Davis had admitted as much himself. His attitude now might have changed, but back then he would never have permitted a marriage between his son and a girl with no education and no well-connected family. Even now he wanted Cole to claim Jake, not her.

  “Well, we’ll never know that now, will we?” Cole said bitterly. He regarded her as if he’d never seen her before. “I thought I knew you.”

  “You knew the woman I used to be, the girl. I’ve changed, Cole.”

  “Obviously,” he said derisively.

  “Because I’ve had to. While you’ve been off making your millions, I’ve been struggling to make ends meet. Instead of going off to college, I had a baby. Instead of being right here in Winding River with family and old friends, I’ve been living with strangers. I’ve been doing the best I could to see that my son was loved and fed and educated.”

  “Our son, dammit. Ours!”

  Something beyond the words, something in his tone, terrified her. It had gotten proprietary.

  “Jake is mine,” she repeated fiercely. “In every way that counts, he is mine. Biologically, you might be his father, but you’ve never done anything for him, never stayed up when he was sick, never read him a story, never comforted him during a storm.”

  Cole’s eyes blazed with fury. “And whose fault is that? Don’t start throwing that in my face, Cassie,” he warned. “It won’t hold up. If I’ve failed as a father, it’s because I was never given the chance to be one, and the blame for that lies with you, no one else. Just you.”

  She was going about this all wrong. Every word out of her mouth was making him angrier, reminding him that she had cost him nine years with his son.

  “Maybe…maybe you should leave now,” she suggested tentatively. “Go home and think about this. You’ll see that I had no choice.”

  At least she prayed that he would.

  But Cole wasn’t finished with her yet. “You know,” he said, “even if I were to accept that back then you were young and scared, that you thought I’d abandoned you, it wouldn’t explain the past few weeks. We’d cleared up the old misunderstandings. We both knew the truth about how we were manipulated by our parents. We were starting to build a future together—at least that’s what I was hoping for. And still you kept silent.”

  “I was afraid,” she admitted.

  “Of what?”

  She didn’t dare voice it. She couldn’t tell him that she was terrified that he would do as his father expected, that he would want to claim his son, that he would try to take Jake away from her. Saying the words might plant the idea in his head.

  “I just was,” she said, leaving it at that.

  Cole regarded her
with disgust. “The old Cassie would never have given in to fear. The old Cassie would have trusted me with the truth.”

  “But don’t you see?” she said softly. “The old Cassie doesn’t exist anymore.”

  Cole sighed heavily. “And it’s plain that I don’t know the new one at all.”

  Chapter Eleven

  How could he have been so blind?

  Cole asked himself that a hundred times on the drive back to his ranch. Now that he knew the truth, he could see that the boy was the spitting image of him, not just in looks, but in interests and attitude.

  The photo albums at the Double D were probably stuffed with pictures of him at Jake’s age, all taken shortly before his mother’s death. He’d bet that any one of those would have shown the unmistakable resemblance. Of course, all those albums were gathering dust in the attic and had been for years. His father wasn’t an especially sentimental man.

  Still, Cole should have seen it. It had been so clear in that split second between the time Jake had uttered his wistful cry about wishing Cole were his father and Cassie’s own cry of dismay. He hadn’t needed to look into her eyes to know the truth, but he had, and it was there, plain as day.

  And if he were being honest, he had also seen the genuine fear, and a part of him understood it, even sympathized with it. He didn’t want to, but he did. Davis men took what they wanted. His father’s reputation for ruthlessness was widely known. Cassie had no reason to believe that he was any different. Though she hadn’t said it, it was evident that she was terrified that he was going to take her son away from her.

  “What are you going to do?” she’d asked just as he’d walked off. There had been no mistaking the fear, the vulnerability, behind the question, or the slight hitch in her voice.

  He’d turned and faced her, his thoughts in turmoil, his heart aching. “I don’t know,” he’d told her honestly.

  Until tonight he had truly believed they were getting past all the old hurts and betrayals and building something solid this time, something that could last. It was what he had desperately come to want over the past few weeks. Years ago they had loved with the reckless passion of youth. Since Cassie’s return, he’d started to anticipate a future built on the more mature love of two adults who knew their own minds and hearts, two people who would no longer let anything or anyone stand in their way.

  Now he’d discovered his fantasy had been spun from a web of lies and omissions. It was the latter that were the most painful to bear. For weeks now his own son had been right under his nose and he hadn’t known, hadn’t had a clue. Shouldn’t he have had at least an inkling, a tiny suspicion? He blamed himself for that, but he blamed Cassie for more—for nine long years he’d lost forever.

  He thought of all the suspicions he’d had, the evidence that Cassie had been trying her level best to keep him and Jake apart. Now he knew why, but it was the one reason that had never once crossed his mind, because a deception of such magnitude had seemed impossible. Cassie had always been the one person who was unfailingly straight with him, the one person he could count on to say exactly what she meant. His father? That was another story, but Cassie had always spoken from the heart. That was why he had taken that letter at face value years ago.

  When he walked into his house after the long drive home from Cassie’s, all he wanted was a stiff drink and some time to himself, time to wrestle with this new turn of events.

  Instead, his father greeted him. “You look like something the cat dragged in. You and Cassie have a spat?” he asked, zeroing in on the problem with unerring accuracy.

  “Something like that,” Cole said wryly. It was definitely a massive understatement.

  His father’s gaze turned sharp. He studied Cole’s face, then gave a little nod of satisfaction. “She finally told you, then?”

  As understanding dawned, Cole stared at him. “You know? You know that Jake is my son?”

  “Well, of course I know,” he boasted, clearly oblivious to Cole’s barely concealed surge of anger.

  “How long?” Cole asked, his voice deadly calm as he grappled with this newest revelation.

  “I suspected it years ago, after you’d left to go back to school, but I didn’t have any proof. Not at first, anyway. Then, finally, I got Edna Collins to admit it. Took a whole lot of persuading, I’ll tell you that. The woman would have taken the information to her grave, if I hadn’t dangled some cash in front of her.”

  Leave it to his father to buy what he wanted. “When was that?” Cole asked.

  “A month or so after Cassie left town. I guessed she was pregnant. Why else would the girl turn her back on her only family?”

  “But you saw no reason to share that with me?”

  “No,” he said, regarding Cole evenly. “For a time I let myself believe it was better to leave things the way they were. You would have wanted to do the right thing, no matter what kind of mess it made of your life. So I took care of the girl’s medical expenses. I offered more, the same as you would have done, but Edna turned me down flat.”

  “You offered more,” Cole repeated derisively. “Money, I imagine.”

  “Well, of course. What else?”

  “You didn’t consider offering marriage, maybe righting the wrong I had done by getting Cassie pregnant in the first place?”

  His father scowled. “I told you, I wasn’t going to let you mess up your life.”

  “I don’t see how taking responsibility for my own actions would have messed up my life. It might have taught me a lesson. And of course there was the fact that I loved the boy’s mother.”

  “That girl was no good for you, that much was plain as day. She was a nobody.” At Cole’s muttered expletive, he backed down. “At least, that’s how I viewed it then.”

  Cole regarded him curiously, wondering about the kind of logic his father used to justify his actions. “And now?”

  “I’ve been forced to reevaluate,” he conceded.

  Which explained the attempts to push him and Cassie together. “And why is that?”

  “You weren’t showing any signs of getting over the woman. You haven’t had a single serious relationship in all the years you’ve been back. When I heard Cassie was coming back, I decided enough was enough. I couldn’t sit by and let the Davis heir be raised as a bastard right under our noses.”

  Suddenly all of the evening’s stress boiled over. Infuriated, Cole grabbed a fistful of his father’s shirt and dragged him close until they were practically nose to nose. “How dare you?”

  “I did what I had to do.”

  “Then this is all about your choices, your decisions?” It took every bit of restraint he possessed to keep from shaking his father. “That boy was mine—hell, he was your grandson—and you kept it to yourself. What were you thinking?”

  Not bothering to wait for an answer, he released his father and backed off before he could take the swing at him he so desperately wanted to take. “You’re the same manipulative, controlling son of a bitch I left home to escape ten years ago.”

  His father drew himself up, seemingly unfazed by Cole’s anger. “I’m your father, and I’ll thank you to show a little respect,” he commanded.

  “Then you’ll have to work damn hard to prove you deserve it. Right now I don’t see it,” Cole snapped, then whirled and headed up the stairs.

  In his room he dragged out a suitcase and began haphazardly filling it with clothes. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew he had to get away. He heard his father huffing and puffing as he climbed the stairs, but he ignored it.

  “Dammit, boy, where do you think you’re going?” his father demanded, hanging on to the doorjamb as he caught his breath.

  “Away from here.”

  “You’ve just found out you have a son and you’re leaving?” the old man asked incredulously.

  “I have to think, and I sure as hell can’t do it here under your roof.”

  “I’d like to know why not? The Double D is your home. It’s
your heritage.”

  “Not because I want it,” Cole pointed out. “Because you insist on it. If I stay, I’ll never know if what I decide is right or what you’ve deliberately set out to plant in my head.”

  “That boy belongs here with us. It couldn’t be any clearer,” his father said.

  “To you, maybe.” Then the full significance of what his father had said sank in. “Jake belongs here? Not Cassie? Is that what you’re saying? Even now, knowing that she’s the mother of my child, you still don’t think she’s good enough?”

  “Hasn’t she proved that by lying to you?”

  Cole couldn’t argue the point, not successfully, when he was still spitting mad over that himself. He let it go and continued packing.

  “Cole, don’t do this,” his father pleaded. “Don’t give Cassie time to get herself an attorney, maybe even to take off again. Stay here and claim what’s yours.”

  Cole silently closed the suitcase, then turned to face his father. “Jake is mine, not yours. The decision is mine, too. I want you to steer clear of him and stay the hell out of it. You’ve already done more than enough.”

  His father shook his head. “You’re making a mistake.”

  “It’s mine to make.”

  That said, he left the room and the house. He had to wonder, as he drove away from the Double D, if he would ever be able to come back, knowing the part his father had played in everything that had happened.

  Cassie sat on the front porch, trembling and sick at heart, long after Cole had left. When Jake crept outside to sit beside her, she wrapped him in a hug and clung to him until he protested.

  “Mom, why did you and Cole fight?” he asked when she reluctantly released him. “I could hear you.”

  Her blood ran cold. “How much did you hear?”

  “Not the words, just that he sounded real mad. Was he mad?”

  “Very,” she admitted.

  “How come?”

  “I…I kept something from him that I shouldn’t have.”

  Did she dare tell Jake the rest? Not yet, she concluded, not until she and Cole had worked things out, if that was even possible. She needed to know what he wanted, how much a part of Jake’s life he intended to be, how much of a fight she might have on her hands.