The Moment of Truth

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “Bottom line is, the woman deserves to know who she’s moving in with.” Sam’s tone brooked no argument. There was no hint of a smile now, either.

  Josh was going to lose this one. He wasn’t coming up with the words to turn it around. Wasn’t fighting hard enough.

  Maybe because a part of him suspected that there might be truth to Sam Montford’s words.

  “I need some time.” This, he would fight for. He had to get Dana and the baby she was carrying into their new home. Once she was settled in, had everything she needed, once he was a little more confident that she’d stay put, at least until after the baby was born, he’d tell her.

  “Cassie also wanted me to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner,” Sam said. “I can give you until then.”

  An invitation in the form of a threat. He recognized the tactic. Sam was giving him six days.

  “Dana’s hosting a dinner for twenty, mostly college kids who don’t have anyplace else to go. I’m helping.” Six days wasn’t long enough.

  “Then bring her over for dessert,” Sam said. “Either way, you have until Thursday to tell her or I’ll do it myself.”

  Josh didn’t doubt the older man. But he respected him.

  “Your time’s up, son,” Sam said when he should have been walking back down the driveway to his fancy truck and driving back to his beautiful life.

  Clamping his jaws on the words he might have said, Josh remained silent.

  “You know I’ve been where you are.” His cousin’s voice had changed, taking on a warmer note he’d never heard in his own father’s voice. “I left the money behind, too. It’s hard to see what life’s really about when everything comes easy.”

  Josh was listening.

  “Your point of return arrived much more quickly than mine did,” Sam continued. “Mariah’s parents’ deaths, having the little girl in my care, brought me home. Dana and this baby are your orphan girl. Either you’re going to be the man you want to be, live up to your own expectations, or you’re not. But this I know—you can’t take that girl, or her baby, down with you.”

  He didn’t have a comeback.

  “Unlike you, I had neither a mind for nor the desire for a life in the business world, and having Mariah didn’t change that. I had to find a way to be who I am, the heir to a fortune and future Patriarch of the Montford family, and be true to myself, as well.”

  Josh wanted to turn his back. And couldn’t. Like a little kid, kneeling at this man’s knee, he asked, “What did you do?”

  “I started a construction company, doing work that I truly enjoy. And...” Sam paused, gave Josh a long assessing look. “I’m going to tell you something that only Cassie knows.”

  Sam expected Josh’s trust so he was going to give his own trust, as well? “Okay.”

  “You ever read the SNC comic Burrough Bantam?”

  “The one with the worm? I am, I am, I am...”

  “Yes.”

  “Hell, yeah, I read it,” Josh said, frowning. He’d been reading it for years, since he was a kid. But what in the hell did a comic have to do with any of this?

  “I write it.”

  Josh was confused. “What?”

  “I’m SNC. Sam ’n’ Cassie. That series was born shortly after I left Shelter Valley. It’s my view of this town, the good and the bad. The strip sustained me for the sixteen years I was gone, and has sustained me since I came back, as well.”

  “And no one in town knows?”

  Sam shook his head. Josh felt like his was shaking. There was so much to take in.

  “Cassie and I talked about telling people. I was afraid people here would think I was poking fun at them. Cassie thought they’d be honored, but in the end, we figured it would ruin Shelter Valley and everything that makes it unique if people started flocking here to be a part of Burrough Bantam.”

  He’d put the town’s welfare first. The choice didn’t surprise Josh. He’d like to think that he’d have done the same. And wasn’t sure he’d even have had the foresight to think about the town.

  Sam squeezed his shoulder. “Let me know about Thanksgiving. And no matter what happens, you’re family and my door is open to you. Anytime. Night or day.”

  Without waiting for a response, Sam walked back to his truck, got inside and drove away.

  In business terms, Josh had just been closed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  FOR ALL THE RUSH, the move went much more smoothly than Dana would have expected. She and Josh went shopping for groceries Friday night before separating to do some last-minute things at their respective places. And by noon on Saturday, having taken off the weekend from her volunteering duties, she was in the new house. By four that day, Josh’s things were there, too.

  He’d hired someone to clean both of their old houses, to ready them for new tenants, and was off overseeing the work, while she was supposed to be unpacking. Part of his economic plan was for them to share household items, and when she’d told him that she wanted to put things away so she’d know where to find them, he’d easily agreed.

  “If he’s going to be this agreeable, this whole living together thing won’t be too bad,” she told the kitty and two dogs, who’d been following her around all afternoon. She’d made a quick stop to visit with a family who was interested in adopting a rescue dog just after lunch, but she’d been home ever since.

  A home that had been overflowing with people—none of whom knew about the baby yet. Lillie had been with her all morning, helping her direct traffic and choose where everything should be placed as it was brought in off the truck. And Lori, Sharon, Jerome, Jon and Abraham had stopped in that afternoon. Mark, who’d been in the truck with the Swartz men, got all their computer and television networking hooked up for them. Jon offered to replace the sliding-glass door in the back with French doors. She gratefully accepted his offer.

  She hadn’t yet told her four-legged family that there’d be a man living with them. Hadn’t so much as gone into Josh’s room yet. As she’d unpacked, she’d left his boxes stacked in the hallway outside his closed bedroom door. He’d be lying in his own bed alone. He could make it.

  Other than Cassie and Zack, who’d had to know in case they were concerned about a pregnant woman having volunteer counselor duties, she hadn’t told anyone yet. The fact that she and Josh were moving in together was enough of a shock to deal with. No one other than Jerome had even known that she and Josh were an item. She’d needed to keep the rest of her news to herself for a few more days.

  Late that afternoon, alone in her new home for the first time all day, she unwrapped plates and glasses and put things away. “This is our home now,” she told the motley crew watching her. Her home. Her first home. She’d called her mother. Told her she was moving in with her boyfriend, a man she loved with all of her heart. Because she couldn’t move without letting Susan know her new address.

  She’d cried for ten minutes after she hung up. She hadn’t told her mother about the baby yet, either.

  She’d meant to. She’d meant to tell everyone else. And then she hadn’t.

  At least she wouldn’t be alone over the next nine months, whether Josh loved her or not.

  She had friends. And a man who was going to support her and be a great father to her baby. So why in the hell were there tears dripping down her face and onto the dishes she was trying to put away?

  * * *

  SHE WAS IN THE HOME. Had turned over the keys to her duplex. His temporary rental was also empty. The first phase of Josh’s project was almost complete.

  Maybe tomorrow, they could go shopping for baby furniture. Get the nursery set. So if Dana decided to kick him out when she heard who he was, if she refused to take another thing from him, at least she’d have the basics.

  Have you told your mother yet? she’d
asked as they were setting boxes outside his bedroom door. She’d been talking about their moving in together.

  Of course he hadn’t. And the look on her face had been reminiscent of an expression he’d seen Michelle wear more times than he could count. He knew what it meant now. Disappointment. Hurt.

  On his way back to the house Saturday evening, he pulled off to the side of the road and hit his mother’s speeddial number.

  “Josh? Is everything okay?”

  “Fine, Mother,” he said, sitting up straight in the seat. “I bought a house....”

  “Is that what the money was for?” she said. “When your father came home and told me that you’d called Leonard for a signature loan, I’d hoped maybe you’d found an investment.”

  He should have known Leonard would talk to his father. “I’ve met someone, Mother. Her name’s Dana....”

  Josh spent a good five minutes telling his mother about the woman who was, at that moment, unpacking their things in the home they were going to share.

  He was avoiding telling her the rest.

  He was also smiling as he told her about the way Dana had helped him with Little Guy, teaching Josh how to care for a pet.

  “You have a dog?”

  Something else he’d failed to mention. Pets were forbidden in the Redmond mansion.

  “His name’s L.G.,” he said, delaying telling her the real news. “Short for Little Guy,” he continued, telling her how he’d ended up with the dog.

  “You always wanted a dog,” his mother said, something that he’d forgotten. “But your father was so allergic there was no way we could bring an animal into the house...”

  His father was allergic to dogs? Shouldn’t he have known that?

  Maybe he had. Maybe the information was something else he’d been privy to but hadn’t bothered to note.

  He had to tell his mother about the baby.

  So he told her about the meals Dana had left in his freezer, and the cookies she’d baked.

  “You love her,” his mother said, her voice soft. “I...”

  What had Dana said to say? He was quite sure she hadn’t mentioned anything about love.

  “She’s the one, Joshua.”

  He didn’t have time for nonsense.

  “What one?”

  “The woman I knew you’d meet one day. The one that would stop you in your tracks.”

  Dana hadn’t done that. The baby had.

  “I can tell by your tone of voice when you say her name,” his mother continued. “A mother knows these things.”

  She sounded so pleased, he hated to disappoint her. But it had to be done.

  “We’re having a baby together, Mother.”

  “What? A baby! When?”

  She must have been home alone. She’d never have allowed herself to lose control otherwise. He could imagine the look of horror on her face.

  And his stomach took a dive. He’d tried to avoid this. Would have preferred not to tell his folks at all. At least not until after the baby was born when he would’ve had some time to prove himself to be a good father.

  “We have to meet her, Josh. I’ll fly out. Next weekend. We have to plan the wedding. I’m sure she’ll want to have it before she starts to show too much, which doesn’t leave a lot of time, but we can get this done.”

  “Mother.” It wasn’t often that he’d used that tone of voice with her. In fact, he’d only had to once before, when he’d told her he was leaving Boston. “We aren’t getting married. I can’t. Not with Michelle...”

  “Of course you can, Josh. No one expects you to live your life alone.”

  It was what he deserved. “Dana and I are happy to have found each other.” They weren’t the exact words he was supposed to have said, but they were close enough. “We want this baby and are sharing a home. That’s what I called to tell you.”

  “If you want to wait on the wedding, I understand, Josh. I don’t like it, and you know your father won’t, either, but I do understand. The world’s a different place now. Young people have children before they marry sometimes. And I give you my word that I will do my best not to get ahead of myself, but...a baby! I—I’m just so thrilled, Joshua.”

  She wasn’t drinking. He could always tell when she’d had a couple of glasses of wine. “I thought you’d be horrified.”

  “Whatever gave you that idea, Joshua? You know I want grandchildren.”

  “And you know that I’m the farthest thing from father material there is.”

  The silence on the line was telling.

  “What I know, Joshua, is that while it’s true you used to be a bit...unaware...when it came to other people, you are and always have been a decent man. It’s time you quit castigating yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”

  “I’m a spoiled, selfish ass who’s spent my whole life focused on me.”

  “You’ve spent your whole life being the only one in your crowd who remembered to call your mother on her birthday every single year. Who, at eighteen, canceled a poker tournament when his father had the flu so he could handle a critical business deal.”

  “I left a chain of broken hearts and wasn’t even aware of having done so.”

  Michelle’s sister had pointed out the truth to him that first night at the hospital, when they’d been certain Michelle was going to die. She’d been the one to tell him why her sister had tried to drink herself to death at her bachelorette party. Because she was marrying a man she adored, who didn’t even remember if it had been her or her sister that graduated with him. He’d made the wrong guess at the party that night, in front of all of their friends.

  And then, to fill the silence, some smart-ass had called out, asking him to name Michelle’s favorite color. It had been her wedding color—filtered through all of the wedding preparations from the invitations to the place settings. He’d seen a purple ribbon and called out purple. There’d been one purple ribbon in contrast to the various shades of yellow everywhere. Her favorite color had been yellow, and he hadn’t known.

  Dana’s was green.

  “You were always a handsome boy, Joshua,” his mother said. “It wasn’t your fault girls fell all over you. You did nothing to encourage them, not that I ever saw.”

  “And Michelle?”

  “You asked her to marry you.” Her tone was still soft—not the least bit condemning. “I thought you did it because you were aware of how she felt about you. It wasn’t until after she...got sick...that I realized you were only doing your duty—for your father and the firm. You are your father’s son, Josh. He made certain of that from the day you were born. But you’re my son, too. You’ve got his single-focused drive, but you’ve also got more compassion in your little finger than he has in his whole body.”

  Sitting back, Josh stared at the desert landscape on both sides of him, as though expecting to see a waterfall. Or something else that was equally out of place.

  “I’ve never heard you speak ill of him.”

  “Because he’s my husband and I love him.”

  “You mean to say you’ve lived your whole life with a man who doesn’t love you back?”

  “No, son. Your father does love me. He loves you, too. He’s a good man. Just not a perfect one.”

  And neither was he. Josh caught the implication.

  Telling his mother to wait on buying a plane ticket, Josh rang off without confessing to the lie he’d been living since moving to Shelter Valley.

  But knowing he wasn’t going to be able to put off his mother for long, and with Sam’s threat looming at his back, he faced the fact that he was probably going to lose the woman his mother thought he loved.

  * * *

  WITH BOXES FILLED with packing paper lined up by the back door, and others broken down in a pile beside
them, Dana faced the last packed box. It was one from Josh’s garage that hadn’t been unpacked back at his last place. He said it had come from his parents’ house, packed by his mother, who’d given it to him the morning he’d left.

  The box wasn’t very big. He’d told her he thought it was a set of monogrammed table and kitchen linens. Something about his mother being superstitious. He’d also told her she didn’t need to use the linens, or even unpack the box.

  Josh’s mother had wanted him to have them. Of course she was going to use them.

  There were a couple of towels on top—thick, soft kitchen towels in ivory with a soft green R embroidered at one end. There were cloth napkins, too, and matching place mats in the most exquisite fabric she’d ever seen. She’d never use that fabric to wipe her mouth.

  Pulling out the last items in the box—some quilted pot holders—she noticed a large envelope at the bottom.

  Dana looked at the envelope and frowned.

  Should she open it?

  The envelope wasn’t addressed. Or sealed.

  Thinking that it was probably a receipt, maybe from the place that did the monogramming, she picked it up. And pulled out an official-looking piece of paper. Just one sheet, but not a bill of sale.

  Not sure what she was looking at yet, not sure if she should put it back without looking, Dana noticed the crest at the top of the document. It was the same marking that was on all of the linens.

  The crest was followed by a section that reminded her of the front page in the family Bible at home—the one that listed their family tree.

  Daniel had crossed out his name as father on the line that connected Dana to the family.

  The one in her hand connected Josh to someone named Montford. His mother’s maiden name was Montford?

  Like the university in Shelter Valley where Josh worked?

  Dropping down to the floor, she fell back against the cupboard and stared. Surely this was just a coincidence. Josh was not a Montford. He couldn’t be.

  And then she remembered that first day she’d met him. He’d been at the veterinary clinic. A man who had never owned so much as a goldfish.