by Brenda Novak
She hung up without saying goodbye, and he made himself roll out of bed and get dressed.
By the time he reached for his keys, he almost felt human again. He only hoped Cheyenne didn’t have any more surprises for him. Agreeing to father a child for her and Dylan, and then learning he was already the father of Presley’s child, was enough excitement for one spring.
As he walked out of the house, he was eager for the cool breeze. But the air felt heavy with rain. He frowned at the sky as he started his engine. The uncertain weather, and the dark clouds that scuttled across the moon, would make standing in the graveyard seem even creepier. What a place to meet....
It was close to Cheyenne’s house, however, and should give them some privacy.
Cheyenne was waiting for him when he arrived. He could see her sitting on a bench under the old oak tree not far from her own mother’s burial plot and wondered how she felt toward Anita these days. She hardly ever talked about her.
When he’d asked once, she said it was complicated, and Dylan had sent him a look that suggested he not push.
“Don’t you find it disturbing to sit here alone?” he asked as he approached. “Most women would be terrified of coming here at this hour.”
“To me it’s peaceful,” she said with a shrug.
He was slightly embarrassed that it bothered him. “If you say so.”
“Anita tied me to this tree once, as punishment for staying out too late,” she explained. “Made me spend the whole night—until Eve’s parents rescued me the next morning. At first I was out of my mind with fear, but it forced me to make peace with this place, to realize there’s nothing here that will hurt me.”
When he came closer he saw that she was actually sitting closer to Little Mary’s grave than Anita’s. Six-year-old Mary had once lived in the Victorian next door, now Eve Harmon’s B and B, where both Eve and Cheyenne worked. Mary was killed in the basement back in the 1800s, not long after Whiskey Creek was founded. No one had ever figured out who her murderer was, and there’d been sightings of her ghost ever since.
“The stories I hear about the woman who raised you and Presley never cease to amaze me,” he said.
She pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt down over her hands as a chill wind stirred her hair. “She was not your average mother.”
“No,” he said, and sat beside her. “So...why are we here?”
She glanced at his face but quickly looked away. “I wanted to apologize to you, first of all. I didn’t get the chance when you came by to talk to Dylan last night.”
“For keeping Presley’s secret?”
“You understand why I did it, don’t you?” she asked imploringly.
He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, trying to avoid the sight of his own mother’s grave in the far corner. “More or less.”
“I felt terrible about it from the beginning, Aaron. But Wyatt was all Presley had, all that was keeping her off drugs and moving in the right direction. You remember how she was when she left here two years ago.”
“Of course.”
“You’ve asked me where she went during that time when...when we couldn’t find her.”
“It wasn’t Arizona?”
“It was. But when she finally called me, she was at an abortion clinic. I left that part out. I also left out the part about the guy who’d driven her there and was planning to take her home afterward. You should’ve seen what he did to her—the cuts, the bruises.”
Aaron didn’t even like thinking about it.
“Deciding to keep the baby was what motivated her to turn her life around,” Cheyenne continued. “That’s easy to say, of course. But if I hadn’t gone to that abortion clinic, if I hadn’t seen how close I’d come to losing my sister for good, I never would’ve gone along with hiding what we did. I know I can’t expect you to believe that, but it’s the truth, Aaron. I didn’t even tell Dylan, and you know how much I love him.”
He let his hands dangle between his legs. “You didn’t have to come out in the middle of the night to tell me that. And I’m sorry for what Presley went through. I’ll admit I feel partially to blame.”
“She doesn’t blame you.”
“I know.” She was forgiving. She’d never blamed him for anything, never expected anything. She’d just loved him.
Cheyenne reached into her purse and pulled out a photograph of Wyatt. “I brought this for you. Presley will probably give you one, or you can take some pictures of him yourself, but...I thought it might be nice to have while you’re in the midst of making the hard decisions you have to make.”
Still barely able to believe he was Wyatt’s father, Aaron stared down at the cherubic-looking toddler. When he finally pulled his gaze away, he raised his head to meet Cheyenne’s eyes. “I can’t imagine you’d hand me this right now if you wanted me to give him up.”
She put her arms around him and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m sure he could use a good father, and I’m equally sure you’d be one.”
He felt a flash of hope but couldn’t avoid what Presley had made so plain. “I doubt your sister would want you to encourage me. I get the impression she’s hoping I’ll sign Wyatt over.”
“She might be hoping that, but I’m hoping she’s underestimating her ability to adjust to having you in the picture. That’s all I can hope for, at this point.”
He couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks.”
He got up to leave, but she wasn’t finished. “I also wanted to tell you that...that you don’t have to worry about doing the artificial insemination. There’s too much going on right now for you to make a decision about something that...far-reaching. It was really nice of you to be as willing as you have been, but...I can’t feel good about it after...all this.”
So that was why she’d called him in the middle of the night. Everything else could’ve been said in front of Dylan. “If we don’t move ahead, Dylan will be really disappointed when he discovers you’re not pregnant.”
“I’m sorry about that. I definitely didn’t mean for it to come to this.” She shook her head. “My timing’s been terrible. It’s not just Wyatt, although that’s enough. I know you’re stressed about your father’s release and his new marriage, and what that’ll do to your life and your brothers’ lives. There’s a lot going on.”
He pulled her to her feet. “Cheyenne, I haven’t changed my mind.”
A doubtful expression appeared on her face. “You can’t mean that.”
“Yes, I can. Let’s do it.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Even after what’s happened?”
The memory of Dylan squeezing his shoulder before getting out of his truck last night convinced Aaron that he couldn’t say no. He owed his brother too much. “It’s the least I can do.”
22
Riley hadn’t tried to kiss her. He’d helped her get Wyatt from Cheyenne’s and drove them both home. Then he’d brought the car seat inside because Wyatt had gone right back to sleep. But Riley hadn’t asked to stay. He’d given her a hug and told her to sleep well.
Since he’d left, Presley had been wandering around her house, keyed up and restless for no particular reason. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been awake when Aaron’s text came in at two-thirty.
Are you in safe?
Why would he care?
She blew out a sigh and keyed in, Yes.
How was it? came his response.
Fine. Riley’s a nice guy.
So you keep saying.
It was what she kept saying—probably to cover for the fact that she felt no sexual attraction to Riley.
She made no reply, but that didn’t stop Aaron from texting her again.
I want to see you.
It’s too late to talk
about anything tonight, Aaron.
I don’t want to talk.
Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the wall. She’d known better than to answer him after Are you in safe? So why had she?
Because she wanted to see him, too. Badly. She yearned for him. But she wasn’t going to succumb to that weakness ever again. It was more important than ever that she maintain her self-respect and not lose power in the relationship.
I’ll see you when you pick up Wyatt, she wrote back, then turned off her phone.
* * *
Presley was freshly showered when Aaron showed up at her place at ten the next morning. He could tell by the way she smelled. He liked that scent, which reminded him of all the times he’d had his nose pressed into her hair as he made love to her.
“You look nice,” he said. He’d never really tried to win anyone over, but he was trying now. He couldn’t help hoping he could get her to cancel her picnic with Riley and come with him instead. He still wanted to reestablish the camaraderie they’d once enjoyed.
He was also more than a little anxious at the thought of being alone with the child he believed to be his son for an extended period. His brief babysitting stint the day he’d learned the truth hadn’t gone smoothly. He’d never seen—or smelled–anything worse than what was in that diaper he’d had to change. Just the memory of it made him gag.
Presley didn’t thank him for the compliment. She smoothed the cotton print of her sundress and, again, he got the impression that anything flattering he said would be discarded with the assumption that he couldn’t mean it.
He’d taught her not to expect too much of him, and taught her well. But she did look nice—soft, the way he liked his women, with plenty of golden-brown skin showing. She also looked tired, however. Dark circles underscored her big eyes, and she wrung her hands with anxiety whenever he came around.
“I’ve packed everything you should need,” she told him, and picked up a plastic-covered diaper bag that had been waiting by the door. “There’s food and snacks in here. A change of clothes. Extra diapers. Wet wipes. Diaper rash ointment. And a bottle of milk.”
“Got it.” He glanced at the toys on the floor, but didn’t see the baby. “Where’s Wyatt?”
“In his high chair. I’ll get him so I can show you how to change a diaper.”
“Diaper changing isn’t rocket science,” he said, following her into the kitchen.
She turned around to give him a questioning look. “Oh, really? I couldn’t tell from the way you did the last one.”
“That wasn’t my fault. He had a blowout. And then he didn’t want me to change him. He kept crying and squirming, and I didn’t know how hard I could hold him down. I didn’t want to hurt him.”
“I’m grateful for that,” she murmured.
“You know I’d never hurt him, right?”
She nodded. “I do know that.”
That acknowledgment made him feel slightly better but, the way she’d been treating him left a lot to be desired.
“Anyway, that wasn’t a good one to start with,” he said. “We got shit everywhere. On the table. On me. On another diaper I had to throw away.”
When she laughed, he grinned at her, hoping to reach the woman he’d known so well. But the warmth fled her face the second she met his eyes and she turned away. “We’ll go over it just so I can feel I’ve done my part as a mother.”
As he accompanied her down the hall into Wyatt’s bedroom, he glanced into hers. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see. He remembered the night he’d stayed over, and wondered how it would feel to be welcome to stay again, especially now that he was at such a crossroads in his life. He’d just decided to move to Reno–and now this. Should that change his plans? Should he remain in Whiskey Creek and coparent? Or drive back whenever he could get a manager to cover for him?
He craved the familiar, craved her. But, looking into her room, he was also afraid he’d see some sign that Riley had taken his place in her bed.
“When you change him, sometimes it helps if you distract him by giving him a toy,” she said. Aaron needed something to distract him.
As she went through a quick demonstration, he stood behind her, barely resisting the urge to slide his hands around her waist and up over her breasts.
“See how easy that was?”
“He was hardly even wet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Practice will make perfect–eventually.”
“When do I feed him lunch? At noon? Or did he just have breakfast?”
“He woke up at seven. Breakfast was at seven-thirty.”
No wonder she was tired. She wasn’t getting much sleep.
“He was in his high chair when I got here.”
“Having a snack. You can feed him at twelve-thirty or one. He’ll act fussy and let you know.”
“Got it.” They stood in Wyatt’s room, staring at each other for several seconds. Then she kissed her son’s cheek and reluctantly handed him over.
“I’ll send along a couple of his favorite toys. And you can call me if you have any trouble. Don’t hesitate. I won’t think badly of you if you want to give him back after an hour or so.”
“Come on, I’m not that big a wimp.”
“It’s that kind of thinking I’m trying to prevent. Don’t hang in there because you feel you have something to prove.”
“I wouldn’t,” he said. “But I don’t want to interrupt your picnic, either.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That sounds as if you’d actually enjoy it.”
“I hate the idea of you being with him,” he admitted. “I don’t know why you won’t date me.”
“We’ve been over this.”
“You’re making me the bad guy and giving Riley an unfair advantage!”
He thought she might argue with him, but she didn’t. “Riley has never rejected me. I have nothing to fear from him.”
“So you’re being a chicken shit?”
“That’s easy for you to say. It’s not your heart on the line!”
“I’ll be more careful with it this time.” He was as sincere as he could be, but she didn’t seem to take his promises any more seriously than she did his compliments.
“It’s pointless! I don’t have what it takes to make you fall in love with me, and I don’t want you to date me just because of Wyatt or because we’re good in bed together. There’s no need to confuse everything again now that we have it sort of figured out.”
“I’m only here for a short time.” If he stuck with his plan. “I’m asking for six weeks! How could that leave you any worse off?”
She glared at him, but he could tell there was no real anger behind it. He got the impression she was showing him that tough face, hoping he’d back off before she could give in.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “How about one more chance?”
For a second, he was sure she was going to agree. But then she straightened her shoulders, raised her chin and flatly refused. “No, but thanks for making the effort.”
When he swore, she seemed a little shocked. “What’s going on with you?” she asked.
“Are you having fun turning the tables on me?”
“I wish.” She marched out to get Wyatt’s diaper bag. Then, a few minutes later, he found himself in his truck with a baby in his backseat—for the first time ever.
* * *
“Wow, she let you bring him home,” Mack said.
Aaron held Wyatt, still strapped in his car seat, in one hand, and the diaper bag in the other. “That’s right.”
Mack watched as he set both on the floor and released Wyatt, who squealed with excitement as soon as he saw the dogs. “Gog!” he cried, and pointed as Aaron picked him up. “Oooh, gog!”
Ma
ck started laughing. “Look at the expression on his face. That’s pretty damn cute.”
“It’s all fun and games until you have to change a diaper,” Aaron grumbled.
“Yeah, but that’s your job, big brother.”
“What kind of uncle are you, anyway?”
Mack didn’t answer. Wyatt was fighting to get down, which surprised Aaron. He’d thought he’d be frightened by Shady and Kikosan. A chocolate Lab and a golden retriever, they were a lot bigger than he was.
“Let him go,” Mack said. “Let’s see what he does.”
Aaron put Wyatt on his own two feet and they both laughed as he stomped and shrieked in pleasure when the dogs licked his face.
Mack rested his hands on his hips. “I’m impressed that he’s not scared.”
Aaron gave him a “get real” look. “My kid would never be afraid of a dog that’s wagging its tail,” he teased, but he’d expected the same reaction Mack had.
“I bet he hasn’t been around many dogs.”
“He obviously knows what they are.”
They both watched Wyatt pull Shady’s tail. Then they laughed as he stumbled and fell on his diapered behind when the dog circled around to see what was going on.
“Gog!” Wyatt repeated, pointing.
“He has no fear,” Aaron marveled.
“He’s too awestruck.” Mack crouched down. “Hey, little guy.” He tried to pick Wyatt up, but Wyatt wasn’t having any of it. All he cared about was his new four-legged friends. So they gave up trying to hold him and let him play for an hour while they watched him and a football game at the same time. Then Grady and Rod came in.
“Hey, look who’s here!” Grady said the moment he saw Wyatt.
At that point Wyatt seemed ready to focus on something other than Shady and Kikosan, who were tired of being mauled and kept moving away when Wyatt toddled toward them.
“This is great!” Rod sat down next to him. “You have a kid. I can’t believe it.”
“Neither can I,” Aaron said.
“What does he do?”
“What do you mean...what does he do?”
“I’m guessing he can’t play catch. And he doesn’t seem too interested in watching the game. So...what can we do with him at this age?”
