by Anna Sugden
Though he was impatient to look at the photos Kayla had given him, Jackson went upstairs to Morgan’s room. The door was ajar and she looked up as he knocked.
“How about a swim, kiddo?” he asked. “I’d like some time in the pool.”
Her face brightened. “Okay.”
“Let’s put on our suits and meet out there.”
She was waiting when he reached poolside and jumped in, turning on her back and floating happily. Morgan had always been an excellent swimmer.
Diving into the cool, clear water, Jackson gave himself up to enjoying it, as well. Some folks in Schuyler regarded the large pool as an extravagance, but his trust fund kept him comfortable, and he saw no reason not to enjoy the benefits from it—especially since he’d encountered his share of drawbacks to having money. And in the water, Morgan lost her angry resentment, even shooting a beach ball back and forth with him. In his book, the pool was worth the cost, if only for a single untroubled afternoon with his daughter.
Two hours later they dried off and went in to eat the supper Flora had left baking in the oven.
After their dishes had been rinsed and stacked in the sink, Jackson thought about asking if Morgan wanted to look at the Andersons’ photos with him, but he didn’t want to change the comfortable atmosphere that lingered.
“I know we’ve seen them, but would you like to watch the last two Star Trek movies with me again?” he suggested instead.
“Really? I didn’t think you were interested.”
“I should give them another shot. It’s early. We can make popcorn and have a movie night.”
Morgan bit her lip. “I just have to, uh, go message somebody to say I won’t be online for a while.”
“Go ahead. I’ll get the popcorn and sodas.”
This time through, Jackson realized the films were quite good, though he didn’t enjoy watching the sexier scenes with his teenage daughter. Still, they were mild compared to lots of movies and TV, so he tried to ignore his discomfort.
“I like the sequel even better than the first,” Morgan said as the credits rolled on the second film.
“It’s pretty good, all right.”
“We should bring all the Star Trek movies to Yellowstone. I bet the Garrisons have a TV and Blu-ray player in their RV.”
“Sure,” he said, wincing internally. So much for a back-to-basics camping trip. “Alex likes science fiction, so he’d probably enjoy it, too.”
Morgan’s eyes suddenly flicked back to the resentment he’d seen so often. “Oh. That’s why you want to watch Star Trek. Because Alex likes sci-fi.”
Jackson wanted to kick himself. “If that was all, I could have watched them alone. I wanted to share the movies with you.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Without another word she marched up to her room and he shook his head in discouragement. How could she go from one mood to another so quickly? Had he been that way at the same age, or was it an aspect of female adolescence?
Obviously Morgan wouldn’t want to look through the Anderson family albums with him now, so he went into his office and plugged the portable hard drive into his computer.
Everything was neatly organized, the albums being represented by folders. Each file name included the date taken, and he started with the earliest. It was a teenage Kayla in the picture, and an odd sensation went through him as he looked at the nervous girl sitting in a hospital bed, holding a baby wrapped in a blue blanket.
Curious, he looked at several more photos in the folder and didn’t see any of Kayla’s mother. He’d never met Carolyn Garrison and only recalled bits of gossip that had circulated when they lived in Schuyler, mostly about her being seen drunk. Not long afterward, Kayla and her mom had left town. Jackson had been relieved since it meant Kayla wouldn’t be around to keep making false accusations. He was already headed to the altar with Marcy, feeling as if he was being dragged into a sinkhole. Ironically, of the two girls, he would have preferred marrying Kayla, except when she’d told him about the baby, he’d decided the rumors about her reputation must be true.
He reopened the shot of Kayla and her newborn son in the hospital. As he gazed at it, guilt crawled through him. There she was, not much older than Morgan, facing single motherhood. If some boy got his daughter pregnant, he’d want to wring the kid’s neck. He would do anything to undo the day Kayla had come to him, saying she was pregnant. He couldn’t have married two girls, but he could have supported her and been a part of Alex’s life from the beginning. Instead, he hadn’t even considered the possibility Kayla was telling the truth.
Clicking away from the photo in the hospital, Jackson saw numerous shots of Alex as a plump, healthy baby. The pictures were mostly of Alex as he grew, rarely including Kayla.
But in the second album, around the time Alex turned two, a young man started showing up. Soon after Alex turned three, there was a photo of a radiant Kayla in a long white gown, standing next to the same man in front of a church altar.
So this was Curtis Anderson, the guy who’d let his family down. Knowing the end of the story made Jackson ill at ease to see the happy photos that followed, though it was interesting to see that Kayla hadn’t deleted the ones of her ex-husband. The pictures advanced chronologically until Curtis Anderson was no longer present. For a while the faces weren’t as cheerful, but slowly everyone appeared happier.
Jackson had done his best to forget Kayla, yet he still remembered her talking about finding a soul mate, as if that one person could fill the hungry, empty places inside her. He had news for Kayla—everybody screwed up, and soul mates were few and far between, if they even existed.
Jackson emailed some of the photos to his parents. They were anxious to meet their grandson but were trying to be patient until he’d gotten to know Alex himself.
He’d started to get up from the computer when a message came in from Kayla, explaining Alex had agreed to a quick meeting, but she wanted to talk first.
Letting out an impatient breath, he wrote back, suggesting their usual time at the Coffee Shack.
* * *
KAYLA WAS DELAYED a few minutes the next day and Cora waved her through to the patio. “Jackson already got you an iced latte,” she said.
While the afternoon heat was softened by the overhanging trees, it was still warm as Kayla slid into a chair across from Jackson. He handed her a cup and she took a long swallow.
“I don’t know how you drink hot coffee in this weather,” she murmured, eyeing his steaming cup.
“It’s a cowboy thing.”
She cocked her head. “You seem tense.”
He groaned. “Morgan threw another fit this morning because I told her she couldn’t go any farther than Halloran’s Meadow by herself. She’s a girl, for God’s sake. I’m only trying to protect her. Honestly, teenage girls are the moodiest creatures on earth.”
“Moodiness isn’t limited to the feminine gender,” Kayla said mildly. She couldn’t turn every stupid-ass comment Jackson made into an argument. “I’m raising a teenage boy, and he has his own share of moody moments.”
Jackson gave her a suspicious look. “Whatever. I want to thank you for sharing the pictures.”
“You’re welcome.” Giving him a copy of their electronic family albums hadn’t been easy—it was like opening both her joys and heartbreaks for a stranger to view.
“I noticed there aren’t many photos of your mother.”
Kayla shrugged. “Mom isn’t around much. She drinks heavily and gets involved with the wrong people. I had to give up taking care of her when I started taking care of a baby.”
Jackson’s eyes widened. “You didn’t have any help?”
“I stayed with Mom until Alex was two months old, though I never risked leaving him alone with her. After that we moved someplace else. Not great, but better. Growing up I learned all the ways you could survive. Before Alex was born I found one of those guys who make fake IDs so I could get a better-paying job—a lot of employers won’t
hire pregnant, underage girls. I started my business when I turned eighteen.”
“I’d figured your mother was there for you.”
“I had me, and that was enough. We were okay.”
She wasn’t about to admit how scary that first year had been, underage and alone with a baby. Fortunately she’d saved the generous farewell gift from her grandparents, plus every penny from her after-school job in Schuyler. Elizabeth Garrison had delicately hinted it would be wise to keep her money secret. Carolyn hadn’t meant to be a bad mother, but she was an alcoholic, and when the craving hit, her other instincts failed. If she’d known her daughter had some money, it would have eventually gone toward a bar tab.
Kayla hadn’t needed Grams’s advice to keep her savings hidden. She’d memorized the bank account number and destroyed the paperwork; Carolyn had never known it existed.
Jackson was staring at the passing traffic as if he didn’t know how to respond. “It still must have been rough,” he said, finally. “Alex is my son. I should have helped.”
Kayla saw genuine remorse in Jackson’s face...and heard a note of anguish in his voice. The ranching world he came from was filled with tradition and rigid codes of behavior. He hadn’t wanted to believe he was the father of her baby, so he’d broken that code. Now he was paying the price.
“You can help now by letting Alex be himself,” she suggested carefully. Jackson McGregor might be chauvinistic, impatient and demanding, but he was also the kind of man who could make an adolescent boy feel inadequate, especially if he thought the man in question looked down on him.
“What do you mean?”
“Just that Alex isn’t a cowboy. I suspect that’s part of why he’s so reluctant to meet you. He may worry you won’t approve of him, or that you might expect him to be different than he is.”
Jackson jerked with surprise. “He thinks I won’t like him if he isn’t a jock or something?”
“I don’t know, but I have to wonder. And even if he isn’t worried about it now, he might be later. Just be excited about who Alex is, not who you think he should be.”
“Surely you know I’d never intentionally hurt my own kid, Kayla.” Jackson sounded faintly offended.
She sighed. “It’s the unintentional damage I’m concerned about. You obviously have very...traditional ideas about male and female roles.”
His mouth snapped shut and she gave him credit for not going ballistic.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’ll bring Alex to the park in the morning. I’m hoping it will help him make up his mind about going on the camping trip.”
She drove back to the house and sat down with her son. “Okay, we’re all set for tomorrow.”
Alex chewed the inside of his lip and looked ready to run for the Montana state border.
“This is not the time for second thoughts,” she said gently.
“Jeez, Mom, I know, but the thing about tomorrow...and Yellowstone...” His voice trailed into silence.
“Yes?” Kayla prompted. She knew he was mixed-up about a lot of things, but if he didn’t talk to her, she couldn’t help.
“I’m afraid I messed up our family,” he said in a rush. “What if that guy tries to make me stay in Montana?”
“Alex, I don’t think that’s what Jackson wants, and even if he does, he couldn’t make you stay. No judge would let it happen.”
“Really?”
“Honest,” Kayla assured him. “But would it be terrible to come back for visits? We’d see Grams and Granddad, and if you and Jackson hit it off, you can spend some time with him and your sister Morgan. That doesn’t sound bad, does it?”
“No, I like Montana. I just don’t want to stay here forever.”
Kayla couldn’t resist ruffling his hair the way she’d done when he was three. “Do me a favor. Next time you’re worried about something, ask before twisting yourself into a knot.”
He grinned. “Okay.”
She went to her bedroom, shaking her head. Jackson thought moodiness belonged to teenage girls?
At least she’d learned what some of Alex’s foot-dragging was about, though she could kick herself for not figuring it out earlier. If she’d believed Jackson might try to seek custody, she’d have been bothered, too...and lining up lawyers from Schuyler to Seattle.
But custody wasn’t a serious concern. Aside from Alex running away to Montana, he’d never been in any trouble. He got excellent grades in school, was well-adjusted and his home life in Seattle was stable. Even if Jackson decided to seek custody, no Seattle judge would give him the time of day. And her grandparents were so respected, he wouldn’t get far in Schuyler, either.
Yet Kayla frowned. Her motherly instincts remained uneasy. Alex’s “unauthorized vacation” had been a drastic step, and she still thought there was more to it than he’d confessed.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Kayla pulled in at the park and turned toward Alex, sitting next to her in the front seat. He looked sick to his stomach.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Do I have to?”
“You said you would, and Jackson came into town just for this.”
Alex nodded, but he still scrunched down and tried to spy over the edge of the dashboard so he could see his birth father without being spotted.
Jackson stood near a picnic table and was staring intently at the car as if he had X-ray vision, making Kayla wish she could tell him to dial it down a few notches. Projecting the energy of a stalking mountain lion was not the way to make Alex more comfortable.
“How long do we have to stay?” Alex muttered.
“Give it thirty minutes, okay?”
They got out and Alex dragged his feet as they walked toward the picnic table. He visibly gulped when they got close. “Uh, hello.”
“Hi, Alex. I’m really glad to meet you.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Do you want to sit down?” Jackson gestured toward the table.
“Uh, no, I’m okay.”
As Alex shifted his weight from one foot to another, Kayla had a feeling that it was going to be a really long half hour.
* * *
MORGAN GIGGLED WHEN she read Alex’s latest message about how the previous year he’d injected blue dye into the shampoo of some jock jerk at his school and red dye into this other jerk’s shampoo. But the joke had fallen flat because everybody thought they’d done it deliberately to show the school colors. The jerks had taken all the credit and then used the shampoo for every game after that.
They never even tried to figure out who did it, Alex wrote. Not that they could have. I was careful.
Did you want them to know? she asked.
Are you kidding? I’d rather not get pounded. You’re only the second person I’ve told. Sandy knows, but my other friends might blab.
It was awesome that Alex’s best friend was a girl. Morgan had friends, but she didn’t have a best best friend, so it made her feel good that she and Alex were sharing a secret. She hadn’t told her dad they’d been messaging each other. So that was another secret. Well, she didn’t know for sure that it was a secret—Alex might have told his mother—but Morgan had a feeling he hadn’t.
It was weird getting to know her brother this way. The night before they’d messaged back and forth for over two hours.
She typed, Have you decided to go on the trip to Yellowstone?
Yeah, I told Mom I would. I guess your dad already has reservations at a campground. Mom is like a superwoman planner. Your dad must be, too.
Not usually, except for stuff to do with his cows, Morgan wrote back, shrugging off the “your dad” thing. She was really glad Alex had decided to go. He and Dad had met at the park, but since he wasn’t writing anything about it, she felt funny asking what had happened.
Maybe, if she got to know Alex well enough, she’d ask what he thought about the whole teen-pregnancy thing. Especially whether he thought his mother was sorry she’d had him, the way her own mother was sorry.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THREE DAYS LATER Alex dragged his eyes open when his grandfather knocked on the bedroom door and told him it was time to rise and shine.
He blearily checked the clock. Five a.m. Crap, they were going on vacation—why did they have to get up so early? Grandma had told him it was part of the fun and she wished they were leaving when it was still dark—it was what she called an indelible experience. He didn’t know what that meant and didn’t care.
After another fifteen minutes, a sharp rap woke him up again and his mom stuck her head inside the room. “Second warning, kiddo. Breakfast is almost ready.”
Rats. He sat up and started taking off his shirt before remembering he’d slept in his clothes so he could stay in bed longer. So he yawned and stuck his feet into his sneakers. He’d been up late messaging with Morgan on his phone long after Mom had sent him to bed.
Morgan was turning out to be okay. They’d gone back and forth about practically everything...except Jackson McGregor.
It was hard to wrap his head around the idea that the guy was his birth dad. As soon as Alex had seen Jackson at the park he’d thought, Holy crap, he really is my father. But it still didn’t seem real.
Alex finished tying his shoes and trudged down to the living room, where DeeDee was groggily brushing her hair. Mom was bright and energetic, double-checking their luggage and joking with Grandpa.
“Jeez, Mom,” DeeDee mumbled. “You went for a run, didn’t you?”
“A short one.”
Alex groaned along with his sister. Running made Mom all perky in the morning.
After a few minutes a big shiny black SUV pulled up in front of the house and Jackson McGregor got out, looking as if he’d been up for hours.
Alex rubbed his face. Cripes, the guy was a cowboy. That was the same as finding out his father was a Klingon.
Everyone headed toward the front yard. Mom stopped and looked back at him. “How about it, Alex?”
“In a second.”
“Okay.”
Why had he said he’d go? Spending time with Morgan would be okay, but he wasn’t sure about anything else. While his birth father might not be able to get custody or force him to stay in Montana, everything would be different from now on.
