“You had blond hair when you were little,” Jack informed him.
Sam stood up straight and a jolt of pain shot down his left leg. “I did?”
“Granny Mae was a blonde. You and Mikey and Boone all had blond hair when you were real little. Darkened later.”
“Well, that helps some.”
“I’m not trying to convince you one way or the other,” Jack said. “I’m just telling the facts.”
“Man, I’m an idiot,” Sam realized.
“Why’s that?”
“Jenna. She came looking for me, yesterday at the park. I thought it was chance, but now….” Another humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “I don’t think so.”
Jack clucked his tongue. “If she came looking for ya then she wants something, bro. Danger.”
“I guess. But what? For her kid to have a father? Money? I’ve had girls come after me for money but she doesn’t need it. She comes from one of those old money families. Her house is probably five, six thousand square feet. Nearly as big as Mom and Dad’s place. And she’s gorgeous, I mean really beautiful. She could find somebody in a second, kid or not. Ya know it can’t be Stewart’s kid. He would have married her by now if he’s still in town. It must be mine. That’s the only answer. The math adds up.”
Jack read his expression and seemed to realize he needed strong advice. “Now, listen. You don’t know who all she’s been with since then. And it doesn’t matter if she’s rich, it doesn’t look good for her to be with a kid and not have a husband. It sounds fishy to me, bud. Sounds like she’s up to no good. Looking for somebody to put a ring on her finger.”
“She did ask if I was married.”
“There, see, testing the waters.”
“But why tell me the kid is mine? He’s mine, I can feel it.” Sam shook his head as the tingling feeling, almost like fear, crept up his spine. He could still see the scathing glare of emotion in Jenna’s eyes. “I thought she’d turned cold, but she was boiling mad. Damn, bro, that is my kid. I’ve gotta go.”
“Where ya headed?” Jack complained as Sam pushed off the post and left the pier. “Ya drag me down here and then run off?”
“Gotta make a phone call.” He stopped and raked his hand through his hair. “No, forget that, I’ve gotta go out for a while.”
“Yo, demand a test!” Jack called after him. “That’s all I’m saying!”
CHAPTER FOUR
Jenna lay awake in bed, tossing and turning, weighing her options, considering the ramifications, trying in vain to slow her mind and fall asleep. Sam was still too fresh and hot in her mind, and she couldn’t help remembering how he’d been that night.
The night.
How frighteningly handsome he’d been, though not frightening in manner. So tender and warm. She remembered how beautiful twilight had been that night, how a glowing specter of the sun had hovered over the tips of the trees, slowly smothered by striations of pink and tangerine. He had smiled, a light of humor brightening his stormy eyes, washing away any trepidation she’d felt.
Then the lies had started and the maneuvering began. And before the night was through she was pregnant and her life was forever changed.
She’d been maneuvered. Seduced! Looking back it seemed so blatant, the words that had slithered silky sweet off his lips, the continuous push and retreat, two steps forward and one step back, until she was warm and flushed and naked beneath him, floating on a rocking wood raft under the distant bright stars. His warm, solid body pressing down on hers, keeping her steady, and safe.
She shook the memories free, kicking the smothering covers off her legs. It was humiliating as much as anything. She must have stared at him with wide-eyed innocence and wonder, drinking in every single lie, molding to his every caress until she became the same shape as the image in his mind.
‘I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll take a little drive to a special place I know,’ he’d said in a voice as deep and affectionate as his lovemaking, leaning in to give her one last kiss.
Instead, the next afternoon, he’d called and dumped her. Just six words – ‘Look, it’s over. It’s not working.’ She’d replayed those words in her mind a million times, wondering what she’d done wrong. What she could have said or done to drive him away. She’d thought she’d mattered.
But she hadn’t mattered, she’d only been one of many, and he’d never planned to follow through. He’d only wanted sex.
Her door slowly swung open and Brianna came in and sat on the bed.
“Can’t sleep?” Jenna asked.
“You know you’re really stupid, right?” her sister said.
Actually, Jenna did know that. She’d been stupid to trust Sam. But she knew her sister wasn’t talking about that. She was talking about the situation with Brandon Stewart.
Jenna was about to turn on the lamp, then decided to leave it off. They’d already had this conversation and she’d tried her best to explain her reasons, the financial problems, the details of Brandon’s offer - all of it. Bri had listened and then stomped away. Jenna had hoped that would be the end of it. But apparently not.
“What’s wrong now?”
“You can’t do it,” Bri said. “You cannot marry that guy. The Stewarts are scum. Rich, horrible scum.”
Her sister was right, but she also didn’t realize the harsh truths of their current situation. She was too young. “You need to go to school and get a good education, so you don’t end up like me.”
“Oh yeah,” Bri said. “I’ll be at Vanderbilt going la-de-da while you’re married to scum and Ethan’s calling that scumbag Dad. That’s what I’ll do. Sounds like a great plan. How do you expect me to live with that?”
Jenna reached out for her sister’s hand, but Bri pulled back. “Honey, I haven’t paid the mortgage in two months and I can’t pay it this month. The payments alone are five times more than I make in a month. I thought the life insurance would be more but now that’s gone and in two weeks we won’t even have any furniture. I’m barely keeping us afloat. You just don’t realize.”
“Blah, blah,” Bri said. “You’re making this all my fault.”
“No, I’m not.” Was she? “How?”
“You’re only doing it so I can go to college. You’re making it my fault.”
Jenna went ahead and turned on the lamp, realizing this wasn’t going to be a short conversation. “It’s not your fault.”
“It’s Dad’s fault,” Bri grumbled. “That college money was mine.”
Jenna struggled to remain calm. She’d made up her mind to forgive her father for all his faults and only remember his positive traits. That was the only way she could function. “This is just the situation we’re in. And I won’t have to be married to him for long. Brandon said his grandfather is very sick.”
Bri gawked at her. “Ugh. That makes it even worse.” She fell back on the bed. “I’m not going to college. I don’t care. Promise you won’t do it. I’ll take Ethan and run away if you do.”
Jenna sighed. She knew her sister wasn’t serious. She also knew her sister was right. There had to be another way. She’d thought of a few, but none ended with Brianna going to Vanderbilt. “It might not matter, anyway. Brandon was supposed to call and let me know if he had enough money to help. So, maybe he changed his mind.”
Brianna sat up. “I don’t care about him. Say you’re changing your mind because I’m not leaving no matter what. Call Sam Strickland and see what he says. Why does he get off scot-free?”
“This isn’t about him.”
“I know. It’s about me and my school. My fault!”
Jenna held up her hand. “I told Sam. He ran for his life. Forget about that.”
Bri jumped off the bed. “Then sue him! How could he do that?”
“Child support would help, but it’s not enough. I think he’s only just scraping by himself. I’m barely making over minimum wage. We need a way out and marrying Brandon is a way out. Just… go to bed.”
“Then, see,
it doesn’t matter,” Bri said. “You have a college degree and you’re still not earning anything good. So, what difference does it make if I go?”
“Dad helped me get that job. I was pregnant and no one else would hire me. I’ve been sending out resumes, looking for something better, but…. It’s different for me. I have a child, you don’t. Look. Just go to bed, okay? We can’t figure this out in the middle of the night.”
“No,” Bri said, standing her ground. “Not till you promise you won’t marry him. If it’s my fault then it’s my choice. I hate the Scumbag Stewarts. I won’t go to school on their dirty money. Yuck! It makes me sick. Promise or I’ll hate you forever.”
Jenna closed her eyes and tried to think. Once she had the house off her back, either by selling it or through foreclosure, she could just, just, support herself and Ethan - if she found an extremely cheap place to live and miraculously inexpensive and safe daycare. But Bri would be on her own.
“I’m not taking money from Ally Stewart’s family,” Bri insisted. “No way. I hate her. I’ll die first. I’ll end up owing her for the rest of my life and you don’t know how she is. She’s horrible. I’ll do whatever it takes. I don’t care.”
“Well,” Jenna said, “I’ve been thinking. There’s another option. The best option for you. And what I think you should do.”
Bri leaned on the bed with one knee. “What’s that?”
“Save yourself. Ethan and I are weighing you down. Without us, you could go out there and make your own way. You were accepted at other schools, not just Vanderbilt. You were accepted at UT. With some financial aid, and some hard work, you could put yourself through college. I know Dad was focused on Vanderbilt for you. We all were. But UT is a great school. My alma mater. And mom’s. Stay here over the summer, get a job in the evenings and save every penny you make. I’ll give you half of whatever we make in the garage and estate sales. It’s rightfully yours, anyway. Go to Knoxville and make your own way.”
Bri backed up, frowning. “But what about you and Ethan?”
“We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us. You worry about yourself. Either do what I say or I’ll marry Scumbag Stewart and force you to go to Vanderbilt kicking and screaming.”
That earned a slight, but brief, smile from her sister. “The house is half mine, too, right?”
“Yes, but honey, we’re not going to make anything off the house. I’ll probably still end up owing on it after it sells. Dad took out a second mortgage to cover his expenses.”
“That’s what I mean,” Bri said. “If it’s half mine, then it’s half my responsibility.”
“No, it’s not. Legally, the house is mine because you were only fourteen when Dad wrote the will. So, just let me worry about the house, and Ethan. Stop being so stubborn. You’re acting just like….”
Bri glared at her. “I hate Dad for this,” she said in a low voice.
“Don’t say that. He did his best. We’ll all be okay.”
“Fine,” Bri said, stomping toward the door. “Fine. I don’t care anymore! Do whatever you want. I hate this! And make Sam Strickland pay or I will!”
Jenna lay back and tried to sleep, but was now more upset than before. She slid out of bed and crossed the hallway into the nursery to look at her son, desperate to stop the cascading emotions, and knowing just the sight of him would help.
He was sound asleep on his stomach. A soft, sweet little body dressed in a diaper and dark green T-shirt, golden curls fluttering over his mouth with each exhale. Her arms felt so empty without him, the night seemed so long and ominous.
She thought for only a moment then crawled into bed with him, careful not to wake him, and pulled him close.
Strange how another heartbeat, no matter how small, could make life seem safe again. The rhythm of his breathing was an enormous comfort.
Beyond the door, she heard Bri calling for her before leaning her head in the room. “Jenna!” she hissed. “He’s here.”
Jenna propped herself up on her arm. “Who is?”
“He is! Him. Sam.”
“Sam?”
“Yes! He’s in the living room.”
Brianna’s excitement had the opposite effect on Jenna. She carefully slid her arm from under Ethan and climbed out of bed. “Okay, don’t freak out, I’m coming. Don’t wake the baby.”
“Sorry,” her sister whispered, still bobbing in the doorway. “What should I do?”
“Nothing. What time is it?”
“Almost midnight.”
“What a time to drop by.” Jenna headed across the hall to her bedroom and hopped into the pair of jeans she’d left on the bench in front of her bed, frowning at her sister. “Why didn’t I hear him ring the bell?”
Brianna laughed, habitually covering her mouth after years of wearing braces, even though her teeth were straight now. “He knocked. I peeked out and thought he was a psycho murderer.”
Jenna aimed for her closet. “Then why didn’t you come get me instead of answering the door?”
Brianna bobbed her head to the right. “I recognized him. I’m not blind. I told him he’d better pay child support.”
Jenna fought with a hanger to get a shirt out of the closet. “You did not.”
Bri followed Jenna into the bathroom where she rushed to freshen up. “Okay, I didn’t,” Bri said, “but I wanted to.”
Jenna tried to remain calm but her bouncing sister made it hard. The closer she moved toward Sam the more her sister seemed like an annoying fly buzzing around her head.
At the bottom of the stairs, she turned to stop Brianna from tagging along. She didn’t need her energetic sister standing there while she confronted the estranged father of her child. “Go to bed. I can handle this.”
Brianna’s face fell flat. “Oh, right, I get it. Privacy.” She jogged back up the stairs and Jenna turned into the lighted living room.
Sam wasn’t there. The room was empty. She’d had such a strong image of him standing at the mantel that she stood stunned for a moment. Then she wondered if Brianna might have imagined him. Annoyed, she turned on the light in the den, found it empty, then went to the front door and looked out. By the porch light, she saw a big green pickup parked in the circular drive. She remembered a red truck, but he’d likely bought a new one in the past three years.
It had to be Sam’s.
Her heart began to pound again as she turned around and closed the door. He was in the house, somewhere. She could feel him. Straight ahead, she heard a sound and saw Sam Strickland strolling out of the kitchen, making the hallway seem cramped by his size. Not only with his size, but also his presence, which Jenna found almost overwhelming as his energy rolled toward her and passed over her body like a billowing cloud of hot steam.
When he came near every muscle in her body seemed to vibrate.
“I was just washing my hands,” he said. “Sorry it’s so late. I didn’t even think about everybody being in bed.”
She glanced at the bathroom door he had passed by to wash his hands in the kitchen, and immediately wondered if he’d been looking for Ethan. Perhaps thinking he could sneak out the back door with a sleeping babe in his arms.
She blocked the front stairs with her body, trying not to jump to conclusions. Regardless of his motives for this visit, he wasn’t going to get off easy. “I didn’t expect to see you again, the way you ran off. At least not for another three years.”
He glanced into the living room and then faced her. He crossed his arms, then unfolded them in the same motion and tucked his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. “Sorry I ran out before, but…. I had to come back. We’ve got some pretty serious things to talk about.”
She nodded, knowing they did. No turning back now – now that she’d hurled the truth at him like a bucket of ice water. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Yeah, maybe something. My throat’s dry.”
“Mine, too,” she said in a whisper. In fact, she could barely swallow. He followed her to
the kitchen where she filled two glasses with ice and sweet tea leftover from supper.
She could barely believe he, Sam Strickland, was in her house. In her dreams he had always been cool and confident.
In reality, he stood awkwardly by the table, and then nodded as he strode toward the back door. “Let’s step outside.”
Good idea. Fresh air and stars and the chirping of crickets and songs of late night birds for company – much better than the confines of the kitchen.
The world seemed strange with Sam sitting on her back porch. His presence changed the house, the yard, even the bench beneath him.
The night was warm with a fresh breeze and the scent of rain in the air. Miles away, beyond the distant hills, the sky occasionally glowed soundlessly with lightning.
She sat on the railing where she could see him, keep a close eye on him. He took a long drink of his tea and then, with a sigh, set it on the table beside him and leaned back on the bench.
“You’ve changed,” he said, breaking through the silence.
“Have I?”
“When I first got here I thought it was you answering the door instead of your sister. She looks like you.”
“It’s been almost three years.”
“Hard to believe, huh,” he said.
“It felt much longer.”
“So it’s real, not some joke?”
In the darkness, she couldn’t see his eyes, and was grateful. “No, it’s certainly no joke.”
“So he’s really mine – the kid I saw?”
“No, he’s mine.”
“You know what I mean.” An edge came into his tone. “I need to know the truth.”
“I didn’t lie. And I’m not mistaken. There was no one else so don’t even ask.” There had never been anyone else, and likely never would be again.
“Not even that Stewart guy I saw you riding in a Porsche with?”
“Especially not him. I told you that before.”
Sam let out a soft chuckle. “Wow, I just can’t believe it. How old is he?”
Bound to You Page 4
