My Child, Our Child (Silhouette Special Edition)

by Hagan, Patricia

  “No one knew—till you told them—that Uncle Roy ever left that land to Libby. Everyone believed my family had always owned all of this land. Your letting them know otherwise is the biggest gossip they’ve had in these parts since the choir director’s wife ran away with a satellite dish salesman three years ago.”

  Jackie wanted to laugh but didn’t dare. “Well, it’s not my fault. That’s what you get for hiding the truth.”

  “It just never came up.”

  “You were all embarrassed, and you know it,” she accused, then rushed on without giving him a chance to deny. “Furthermore, I think you—and probably your whole family—are too full of pride, anyway. None of you could accept the fact that one of your own loved someone so much he wanted to give her the only thing he had—precious Colton land.

  “And another thing.” Again she gave him no time for a comeback. “I still have a problem with that remark you made about me knowing the ropes about nursing homes...how you think I played up to Libby to get her to leave me in her will. Maybe you apologized, but you said everything points to it.”

  “That it does. Why else would she leave anything to a total stranger?”

  “Be-because,” she stuttered in her disgust and anger, “sometimes people do things just because they’re nice. It makes them feel good. But I guess you’re so cynical you find that hard to understand.”

  “You have no right to call me cynical.”

  “Well, you have no right to insinuate that I play up to the elderly to get what I can out of them. I happen to like them. That’s why I went to school to be a dietician so I could work at a nursing home and help make what time they’ve got left as pleasant as possible.”

  She threw up her hands. “Oh, why am I wasting my breath? You’re going to think whatever you want to, and I’ve got other things to do—like find someone to run my half of the farm till I learn how on my own.”

  “You really intend to do that, don’t you?”

  “I don’t bluff, Sam. And you’re about to find that out.”

  She left, but he was right behind her, catching up to her in the main room of the barn. He caught her shoulder and spun her about. Then, seeing how she looked at his hand, dropped it and apologized, “Okay, okay. I’m battering you again. But I can’t let you do this.”

  She blinked innocently. “Do what?”

  “Hire somebody.”

  “I have the right.”

  “Of course you do, but it would only cause a lot of problems that neither you nor I want.”

  Something made Jackie hesitate. She had been about to go running out of the barn, leap into her car, race to town and begin asking around to find someone to work for her. Now, however, despite her annoyance, she wondered if maybe there was another reason Sam Colton was so arrogant.

  She noticed, too, how unkempt he seemed. Oh, not dirty. Far from it. He smelled of aftershave, and his hair was shiny and clean. It was just that he seemed so thrown together, somehow. His shirt had seen better days. Like the little boy who had come to her cabin, his jeans could also use a mend here and there. And, glancing down, she saw that his socks didn’t match. One was white and the other was blue.

  She giggled.

  He frowned. “Oh, you think it’s funny that you want to turn my life upside-down.”

  She pointed to his socks.

  “So?”

  “I just think it’s funny, that’s all.” She thought of Kevin and how meticulous he had been about his appearance. Everything had to be just so. He wore only the best designer labels, and it had irritated him that she accused him of being a walking billboard because he did not have the originality to select his own styles and colors. Instead he tried to impress people by wearing pricey clothes.

  Sam retorted, “Lady, I’m a working man. I’ve got other things to do besides worry about matching up my socks in the morning, okay? Now let’s talk about the problem at hand. I don’t want you hiring somebody, so let’s see what we can work out here.”

  “Well, I really don’t want to hire anybody,” she admitted. “So are you going to treat me like an equal?”

  There was that twinkle in his eye again as he asked, “Is that what you want? To be treated as an equal in this business?”

  Jackie could not pinpoint the reason but suddenly she felt uneasy. “Well, yes...”

  “Then so it will be.” He held out his hand. “If you can pull your share of the load around here, then I’ll teach you all I can.”

  She looked at his outstretched hand. “No tricks?”

  “Now why would I play any tricks?”

  “Because you want to get rid of me. And you’re still mad that people now know you don’t own all the land up here.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll admit I was annoyed at first. I don’t like others knowing my business, but I guess they’ve got to have somebody—something—to talk about it, so to heck with it. As for wanting to get rid of you, that goes without saying, but I won’t have to do a thing, because sooner or later you’ll realize this is not the place for you. All I ask is a chance to buy you out when that happens.”

  “If it does,” she assured, “I’ll give you that chance, but until then, no funny business.”

  “No funny business.”

  She shook his hand.

  He gripped it tightly. “One more thing.”

  She tried to pull her hand back, but he squeezed all the harder. “What? Let go...”

  His grin was borderline wicked. “It’s not battery. You gave me permission to touch you when you shook my hand.”

  “You’re hurting me.”

  “No, I’m not. Now one more thing—”

  “Anything, just let go.”

  “We’re business partners. Nothing more.”

  She was confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “Stay out of my private life. I don’t even want you driving by my house. I’ll have a backhoe in tomorrow to knock down those blue spruce blocking the road so you can get to the cabin that way.”

  “That...that is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard of,” she sputtered. She gave her hand a hard yank, and he let go. “Why on earth would you chop down perfectly good trees just to keep me from driving by your house? I’m not going to bother you.”

  “Fine. But it’s not altogether because I think you would. I just don’t want to have anything to do with you beyond the business, which means I don’t want to share a driveway. Besides, the spruces aren’t so popular anymore.”

  Lifting her chin, she smugly added, “Because now most people have central heat in their houses, and a blue spruce will drop its needles in a warm room.”

  Seeing his surprise, she explained, “I’ve done my homework.”

  Grudgingly, he agreed that she had, but said, “There’s lots more to growing Christmas trees than knowing the names of them.”

  She gave him a sweet smile. “Of course there is, and I’m looking forward to hearing you tell me all about it.”

  His sigh of resolve was so deep Jackie thought it had to have come all the way from the toes of his mismatched socks. “Okay then. Let’s get started.”

  She walked with him to the machine she had seen earlier, wishing there was not such a feeling of hostility between them. And him saying he would clear the original road to the cabin to keep her from passing his house had been a jolt. But she had not made an issue of it, because something told her there had to be more to it than that. She just couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

  The machine, he explained, was a baler. Cut trees were rolled in on a conveyer. Then, very carefully, they were wrapped in plastic and laced with twine.

  “It keeps them from getting banged around in shipping. Limbs aren’t broken, and moisture inside the plastic keeps them fresh. But we can’t do this to all trees, just those that aren’t going so far. Otherwise, the moisture would cause mildew and rot.

  “It they’re going to a distant state, we pack them in larger bundles by just wrapping wire around them.” H
e indicated a stack near the truck she had followed in. “Those are going to Florida.”

  “What are you going to do with the blue spruces you plan to cut down in my driveway?”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it.”

  “It’s a shame to let them go to waste. Why don’t we take them into town and give them to poor families who can’t afford to buy a tree?”

  “They aren’t ready. They’re too small.”

  “Not for small children,” Jackie said with a grin.

  He ignored her and led the way toward a shed and explained that was where live trees were processed. “I’ll show you how the root balls are wrapped in burlap for planting after Christmas, and—”

  Jackie came to a sudden halt, blinked in recognition, then cried, “It’s him—my little bandit.”

  The boy froze where he stood, eyes going wide with recognition, then with fear. He turned and ran back the way he had come, disappearing between outbuildings.

  “What did you call him?”

  Jackie was puzzled because Sam sounded so mad. Looking at him, she saw that he very much was.

  “I asked what you called him,” he repeated, tone even colder.

  “Little bandit,” she said softly, hesitantly. “It...it wasn’t meant to be unkind. You see, I found a fresh-baked pie missing from my windowsill, and I thought the raccoons had taken it. I had seen them on the porch the night before. Then I found out it was that boy, and I’ve been calling him little bandit ever since. He wouldn’t tell me his name, and that’s what people call raccoons. It was just a joke, that’s all.”

  Sam stared woodenly in the direction the boy had gone.

  Hesitantly Jackie asked, “Do you know who he is?”

  His gaze turned to her then, and she fought the impulse to wither beneath it.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” he said in a voice so low she had to strain to hear. “He’s my son.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sam followed his son, and Jackie was right behind him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked testily.

  “I want to meet him,” she said.

  “Another time. I need to talk to him.” He quickened his pace and yelled, “Brian? Where are you?”

  His tone was angry, and Jackie worriedly said, “You have no reason to be mad at him. He hasn’t done anything.”

  “I don’t want him bothering the neighbors.”

  She paused to throw her arms up in the air and cry, “What neighbors? I’m the only cabin around for miles, probably, and he sure doesn’t bother me.”

  He had kept on walking, and she hurried to keep up.

  “So don’t say anything to him, please. I like having him come by. He’s a sweet little boy. I know he’s shy, because he never says anything, but I figure sooner or later he’ll open up to me, and—”

  He whirled on her then, and she came to a stop, rocking back on her heels.

  “You think you know everything about everything, don’t you? How people should eat, how to grow Christmas trees. Well, hear me loud and clear. You don’t know a thing about my son, and you can stay out of anything that has to do with him. Got that?”

  Hurt, humiliated, Jackie could only stare up at him as she blinked back tears.

  He saw and was immediately contrite. “Look, I’m sorry. I know you meant well, and I apologize for biting your head off, okay? Just don’t cry.”

  She heard desperation in his voice, could see pain etched in every line of his face.

  Beyond him, she spotted Brian peering out from behind a stack of bundled trees that were ready for loading. There was something strange and sad about all of this. Sam had a son but not a wife. Jackie ached to ask questions but didn’t dare. Not now, anyway.

  “I’m so very, very sorry,” she whispered, her heart going out to the little boy who continued to stare. “I had no idea he was your son...that he had no mother. But I’d still like to get to know him if you don’t mind. I promise not to interfere.”

  “It’s not that. I just don’t want him bothering you.”

  “He’s no bother, really.”

  “He has no business wandering around in the woods.” He went over to Brian, with Jackie on his heels. “Son,” he began, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I’ve told you before I don’t want you going off by yourself.”

  Brian looked fearfully to Jackie.

  “No, no, it’s all right,” Sam was quick to say. “She’s not angry with you. And this is Miss Lundigan, by the way. She owns part of our farm now. It’s a long story, and one day when you’re old enough to understand, I’ll tell you all about it. Meanwhile, I want you to stay away from her cabin, understand? If you don’t, I’ll have to punish you.”

  At that, Jackie cried, “No. Don’t do that. I’m happy to have him visit me. Why, I’d even like to mend his little jeans if you don’t care, and trim up his hair, and—”

  “Jackie, please. I don’t want you interfering, okay?”

  He was trying to be calm, but she knew he was becoming more and more agitated.

  “I only want to help.”

  “And we don’t need your help. We do fine by ourselves.”

  Jackie knew she should let it go, then and there, back off and stay out of Sam’s personal life, but the appealing way the boy was looking at her tore at her heart. He had enjoyed visiting her, she could tell...despite his silence. And now that she knew he had no mother, she felt drawn to him even more.

  She brushed by Sam to drop to her knees before Brian. “You don’t do fine, do you?”

  “He’s not going to answer you.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because he’s...he’s got problems. Now leave him alone, please.” To Brian he said, “Go home. Hank is leaving with a load of trees. Go with him and he’ll drop you off at the house. Stay there till I get home.”

  Brian ran to obey.

  Jackie stood and worriedly dared ask, “What kind of problems?”

  “Nothing that concerns you.”

  The ice was back in his voice. Jackie knew if she pressed on, he would only get mad, and this time might not apologize.

  “All right. I’ll butt out. But I want to emphasize that I don’t mind him coming to see me. I enjoy having him around, and I love feeding him. What’s wrong with that?”

  He sighed. “What’s wrong is that I have asked you—and now I’m telling you—to stay out of my personal life, Jackie. And you’re going to have to do just that if we’re to pretend to get along till you get enough of playing tree farmer and go back to the flatland where you belong.”

  She stared after him as he stalked away, shoulders set in that way he had when he was annoyed.

  Yes, something was very wrong.

  She was sure of it.

  And when the time was right, she intended to find out exactly what it was.

  But there was something else that had her in a quandary as well.

  When he’d left, he’d brushed against her, and his touch had sent thrilling little tremors up and down her spine. It had been a long time since a man had made her feel that way...and maybe never with such intensity.

  She was being drawn to him.

  And something told her to pull away—fast.

  Only she feared her heart was not listening.

  Sam fought the impulse to look back.

  He didn’t care if those smoky green eyes of hers were brimming with tears again.

  He couldn’t let himself.

  She was just another woman, like all the rest, out for money and nothing else. And as soon as she found out how rugged the life was, she’d hightail it quicker than a rabbit when it hears the dogs coming.

  So he shouldn’t care whether or not he spoke too brusquely and hurt her feelings.

  But he did .

  Because there was just something about her that inspired thoughts he shouldn’t be having.

  Which meant he was going to have to be really careful.

  And also
get rid of her as quickly as he could.

  A week passed, then two. Jackie went every day to help do whatever she could to harvest the trees. The other workers were helpful but standoffish. Evidently word had spread that Sam was not at all happy with the situation, and they all wanted to stay out of it.

  She seldom encountered Sam. The season was at its peak, and he was busy. He had told her that he would answer all her questions after Thanksgiving but till then, the priority was to harvest the trees and get them shipped.

  She thought he had forgotten his vow to clear the spruces blocking the road to the back of her cabin—the road he wanted her to use. Then one morning she awoke to the roar of chain saws. Leaping out of bed and rushing to the window, she saw several men at work felling the sprightly little trees.

  She bit her lower lip to think what a waste it was. No matter that they were shorter than the desired height of six to seven feet and needed to grow a few more years, they were still well shaped. They would make nice Christmas trees, especially for people who couldn’t afford to buy one at all, much less the larger size. Dressing quickly, she drove into town, having no idea how to carry out her plan. Then she thought of Willa Kearney. Though she was nosy, there was no getting around that she was probably the one person in town who knew how to get something done.

  Jackie was relieved to find the Book Nook open so early. It was not yet eight o’clock. As always, the delicious smell of coffee greeted her as soon as she opened the door, and she thought she detected the aroma of banana nut muffins in the oven.

  “Hello? Anybody here?” she called, giving the door an extra shake to keep the bell over it ringing.

  Willa appeared in the door at the back, wiping her hands. Recognizing Jackie, a grin took over her face. “Well, well. Fancy seeing you here. Especially so early in the morning. Did you find them books on trees you were looking for?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I did,” Jackie said. “I found everything I needed at the library in Boone. It’s a nice town, too.”

  Willa wrinkled her nose. “Too crowded for me. Noisy, too, with all them college kids.

  “By the way,” she went on to say, “It was quite a shock for folks to find out about Roy Colton leaving his half of the farm to Libby Pratt. Sam told Hank, and Hank told everybody else. Nobody ever knew about it. The family kept it a secret. Guess they were ashamed of it.”