Imagination, hell.
He hadn’t been imagining things at all, had just been too damned slow to pick up what his subconscious thought he ought to know.
Kevin Lindstrom was his son.
And Sarah, sweet Sarah, who didn’t mind telling him what he’d done wrong every chance she’d got, hadn’t seen fit to tell him the news.
IN MRS. GANNETT’S kitchen, Sarah turned on the faucet and began rinsing the stack of dishes she’d set beside the sink. Her mind wasn’t on the chore, but on her own problems again. Still.
That morning, Logan had entered the kitchen to tell her his news—he was headed back to Dallas. He’d waited long enough for Kevin to wake up, then said goodbye.
And Sarah had been forced to say farewell to his payment for her extra bedroom.
Piling rinsed dishes beside the sink, she tried to think of other things.
Doc’s timely arrival just as they started their meal hadn’t surprised her a bit. It confirmed her already solid suspicion that her two friends had conspired to throw her together with Tanner.
If they only knew how futile their efforts were.
“Sarah.” Mrs. Gannett nearly snapped her name and reached past her to turn off the faucet. “Come with me.”
It had been a while since Mrs. Gannett had directed that schoolteacher tone her way. Puzzled, she followed the other woman down the hall and into her small den. Mrs. Gannett shoved the door closed and waved her to a seat.
Sarah sank onto a straight-backed chair, feeling like Kevin in Sam Porter’s office. “Is everything all right, Mrs. Gannett?”
“No, Sarah, it is not.” She took the chair opposite and shook her head. “I think it’s time we had a chat.”
“Is it…something serious?”
“Very serious, my dear.” The older woman sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Now, you know I never like to interfere. I would never do anything to hurt you or Kevin. And I respect your ability to take care of yourself and your child. But, Sarah, this has to stop.”
“What—?”
“Hear me out, please. You’ve avoided eye contact with Tanner since the moment you came through the door. You mauled my pot roast as if it were still on four feet and trying to escape. And you’re wearing the longest, saddest face I’ve seen since Hank Edley lost his lunch onstage during the second-grade Christmas concert.”
“Mrs. Gannett—”
“Sarah, what’s wrong?”
The genuine concern in her friend’s voice affected Sarah more than any of the pretended scoldings. Tears came to her eyes, but she blinked them away.
“Noth—”
“And please don’t tell me nothing, dear.”
She sighed. “It’s just too complicated to explain.”
“Love often is that way.”
“Love?”
Mrs. Gannett’s turn to sigh. “Sarah Lindstrom,” she said, but her voice was kind. “Please give it to me straight, as they say.”
“All right.” She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and said in a rush, “Tanner asked me to marry him, and he’s perfectly willing to accept Kevin into his life, or so he says, but he refuses to adopt him, and so I turned him down.”
“Does he know Kevin is his child?”
Sarah gasped. Her thoughts raced. She could deny it, could lie outright. But why? Obviously, Mrs. Gannett had guessed the truth.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. I’ve known all along,” she added, as if she’d read Sarah’s mind.
“And everyone in town…?” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.
Mrs. Gannett nodded. “It wasn’t difficult to figure out, Sarah,” she said gently. “Once it became obvious you were expecting, we all knew the baby had to be Tanner’s.”
She flinched. “Because of the timing.”
“Oh, no, dear. Because of you and Tanner. You’d never had eyes for anyone but each other. Since you didn’t tell us about Kevin, we kept quiet, too, not wanting to add to your hurt.”
Sarah slumped back in her seat, twined her fingers together in her lap and stared down at them. If life hadn’t gotten in the way, as Tanner had so quaintly put it, things might have worked out so differently. But life had intruded.
“Mrs. Gannett, you won’t let on to Tanner?”
“Of course not. But what will you do now?”
What could she do? She couldn’t accept the proposal of a man who wouldn’t fully accept her son.
“I’ll do what I’ve always done,” she said at last. “Get along fine without Tanner Jones.”
SARAH FOLLOWED MRS. Gannett into the living room.
Kevin knelt in front of the coffee table, thumbing through a photo album. From over his shoulder, Doc leaned forward in the rocking chair to look on.
Tanner sat back on the sofa, staring into space.
“Ready for dessert?”
At Mrs. Gannett’s question, he shot to his feet. “Tell you the truth, Mrs. G, I ate so much of your dinner, I need to move around. C’mon, Sarah, let’s go take a walk.” He crossed to her in three strides and reached for her hand.
She tugged gently, but he refused to let go.
His blue eyes blazed at her; his face looked harder than she’d ever seen it before. She didn’t know what had happened to change the mellow mood he’d been in after dinner.
Doc raised his eyebrows and exchanged a glance with Mrs. Gannett. Apparently, he didn’t know, either.
“Yeah.” Kevin scrambled to his feet and trotted toward them. “Let’s go—”
“No, Kevin.” Mrs. Gannett took him by the shoulders, neatly turning him in the direction of the kitchen. “I need you to help me with dessert. Doc, too.”
“We’ll be back shortly.” Tanner kept his fingers snugly around hers as he led her to the door.
Something was up, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what. She definitely didn’t think she wanted to be alone with him. But that thought came too late.
Outside, the afternoon had turned slightly cooler, with a light breeze. Other folks, maybe between their own Sunday dinners and desserts, too, strolled along the street.
Tanner moved so rapidly down the walkway to Mrs. Gannett’s front gate, she had to half jog to keep up. She couldn’t let him see how awkward she felt in his presence. And the only way to do that was by acting her usual self—which meant not going along with everything he demanded. She pulled her hand free. “Where’s the fire, hotshot?”
“Not far at all.” He yanked open the gate and ushered her through.
They walked past the front of Mrs. Gannett’s home and then several of her neighbors’ houses before they came to a vacant lot. Off to one side stood a giant oak tree, its branches spreading wide. Tanner went over to the tree, leaned up against it and propped one boot on the trunk.
From the sidewalk, she frowned. “Now, what?”
He crossed his arms. “Now, tell me about my son.”
The blood drained from her head so quickly, yellow spots filled her vision and she thought she might faint. Just what she would need, to look weak in front of Tanner at a time when she most needed to appear strong.
Her head reeling, she moved to lean up against the tree. She propped herself far enough away from Tanner so they faced in different directions, and close enough to a low-hanging branch that she could grab it if she spun out of control.
“Tell me, Sarah,” he demanded. “I want to know why you lied about my son.”
She dug her fingertips into the rough bark of the oak tree, tried to hold on. “I never lied to you.”
“Oh, excuse me, Miss Bookworm Sarah.” He laughed without humor. “I forgot how good you are with words. You never lied to me, then. You just never told me the truth.”
“You weren’t here for me to tell you.”
“There was always the telephone.”
“The truth is—”
“Oh, now we’re getting to it, huh?” He slammed his foot to the ground.
“Yes, we are. The t
ruth is, you left me, Tanner.”
“That again?”
“No, not that. More. You walked out. Went away. And I was pregnant.”
“Well, you didn’t know that before I left.” He stared at her. “You didn’t know before I left,” he repeated. A flat statement again, but she read the question in his suddenly wide eyes.
“Oh, Tanner, no.” She almost reached out to him, but caught herself. Took a deep breath. “Of course, I didn’t know. But the point is—”
“Enough, Sarah. I’ve heard enough, and we’ve wasted long enough.” He turned, one hand braced on the trunk, and leaned close to glare at her. “The point is, Kevin’s my son, too. So, of course, you’ll marry me.”
She stared at him for a long time, too incensed to trust herself with a response.
Finally, she said quietly, “You still think you can run my life, don’t you?”
And then she walked away.
Chapter Sixteen
Through the bookstore’s front window, Sarah could see Tanner on the ladder he had propped in front of the building. Standing on tiptoe, Kevin stretched up to hand him a nail.
Only yesterday, Tanner had learned the truth about Kevin, and had said flatly that she would marry him.
She still hadn’t given him a direct answer.
Earlier that afternoon, he had sent someone to replace the broken window. Then he himself had arrived at the bookstore shortly after the school bus.
He and Kevin had gone outside to inspect the job, then Tanner had wanted to take care of some loose boards under the front overhang. She couldn’t argue with him about it. She couldn’t afford another broken window.
Somehow she would pay Tanner back. Not any time soon, though.
She squeezed her eyes shut against a sudden flood of moisture. When Jerry had brought in that afternoon’s mail, he had unknowingly delivered the final blow.
A letter from her bank manager, requesting a meeting about her loan.
She had spent the better part of this hour agonizing over her problems. And worse, watching the two workmen outside her window.
Tanner and Kevin.
Father and son.
They came into the store now, both of them grinning. Seeing them side by side, with identical smiles, tugged at her heartstrings.
Kevin ran to her. “Mom, Tanner and me are gonna fix the roof of the shed for you.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to smile. “The roof and the overhang and the window, all in one day?”
“Oh, no. The shed is for later.”
“I see.”
“Can we have some hot chocolate? I promised Tanner.”
“Did you?”
He nodded.
“All right. You know where the cocoa is, and the tea mugs. Tanner can help you with heating the milk.”
Tanner came down the aisle, his gaze on her. “You want a cup, too, Sarah?”
“No, thank you. I have work to do here.” She bent her head over the pile of books in front of her.
Tanner picked up the roll of gold-foil Local Author stickers she had set beside the books. “What’s this?”
“Just what it says. I put them on books by authors who live in the area. They’re meant to attract a customer’s eye.”
“They work—sure caught my eye.” He leered. “Or maybe the saleslady did that.”
She grabbed the first book from the pile and tried to ignore him, knowing he hoped to get a rise out of her with his teasing.
“Hey, Tanner, c’mon.” Kevin tugged on his arm.
“Okay, son, let’s go.”
She froze, certain he had chosen that word deliberately.
They went up the stairs, Tanner’s steps the heavy thump of leather boots, Kevin’s the lighter slap of rubber sneakers. But they climbed in tandem, Tanner slowing his long legs to match Kevin’s shorter ones. He’d done that deliberately, too, she knew.
He had done other things in an effort to accommodate Kevin’s size, such as buying the smaller baseball mitt and bringing the shorter bats to the game.
Through the window that afternoon, she had seen him stop and stare at Kevin every once in a while, his eyes wide with wonder, as if he couldn’t believe he stood there looking down at his son.
She knew exactly how he felt.
She’d done the same thing, many times, especially in those first few months after Kevin’s birth, when she’d look down at his arms and legs and his fingers and toes and his sweet, sweet face, and realize all over again that she and Tanner had made him.
There was so much love in her heart for her baby.
And so much pain there from everything else.
Their footsteps sounded overhead. Sighing, she reached for the next book. Slowly, she worked her way through the pile.
All those years, Kevin had missed out on having Tanner around, as a father. A male role model. A friend.
They were friends now.
How selfish she would be, and how much she would hurt Kevin, if she took that friend away from him.
Again, she heard footsteps, this time descending the stairs. She grabbed the pile of books and scooted down an aisle to start placing them on their appropriate shelves.
From where she stood, she could see Tanner enter the room, carrying two mugs of hot cocoa. Kevin followed, carefully balancing a plate piled high with sugar cookies. They went down the middle aisle and took seats in the conversation area.
Kevin sat facing away from where she stood, but Tanner could see her. And she could see him. She moved into the aisle, blocking both their views.
“Good chocolate, huh, Tanner?”
“Sure is.”
“Hey, Tanner, did I do okay helping you with the nails?”
“You sure did.”
“When we fix the shed, I can help you, too. It’s not like your sheriff’s car.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t have to grow awhile. I’m big enough to climb the ladder and help you.”
“Well.” He sounded cautious. “We’ll see about that.”
Silence fell. She shelved two of the books and moved noiselessly to the next aisle. It didn’t feel right to eavesdrop on their conversation, but she would feel worse if she interrupted. They sounded so comfortable with each other.
Sudden tears blurred her vision, and she had to blink to read the titles on the next shelf.
“Tanner?” Now, Kevin sounded hesitant.
She froze in place and waited.
“Yeah?”
“If I tell you something, can you not tell Mom?”
Now what?
“Keeping secrets from people is a very bad idea.”
She winced. Calling Kevin son had been deliberate. So was his statement now. He wanted her to hear him.
“I know it’s bad, Tanner. But Mom’ll be mad at me.”
“Always better to confess, Kevin.”
He paused, and she felt sure she could feel his gaze boring through the bookshelves between them, homing in on her.
“Tell you what,” he continued, “why don’t you fill me in about what’s on your mind, and then we’ll tell her together?”
“She won’t be mad then?”
He seemed to have forgotten all about Tanner’s badge. And Lord only knew where he thought she’d gone off to right that minute. But, as with most children, he had the ability to focus on the here and now, and block out anything else.
“Can’t guess how your Mom will react till I hear what you have to say,” Tanner told him. “Maybe she will be angry. But I’ll do what I can. And at least you won’t have to do it alone.”
As she’d had to, for all those years. But she didn’t have to any longer; she knew that’s what Tanner was telling her. Swallowing a sigh, she rested her forehead against the edge of the bookcase.
A long pause, then Kevin took off in a rush. “Well, the other night, when the window broke—Billy and me were practicing pitches outside.”
“I thought Billy’s mom w
as minding you at his house that evening?”
“She was. But we came home to get my new mitt. And we started throwing and Billy missed the ball, and…and the window kinda broke.”
“Kinda, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you told me.”
“Yeah,” he said again, sounding relieved now.
Another pause, then Tanner spoke. “As long as we’re talking, Kev, what about those vending machines at school?”
“Oh, Mom already knows about that.”
She bit her lip.
Tanner coughed. “Hmm. You know, when we talked the other day, you never told me why you glued those coin slots.”
“Well…” Kevin’s voice dropped. Sarah stepped nearer to the end of the aisle. “Billy’s brother…Gary. He’s in high school.”
“Ah. I remember when I was in grade school, looking up at the high school crowd. Pretty tough running with them, huh?”
“Yeah. ’Specially Gary. He…well…”
“Kevin, listen. I don’t want to put words in your mouth, you know? It’s best if you just go ahead and tell me.”
“Yeah…well…okay.” He took a deep breath. “It’s like this. Gary always has to watch Billy and me, and he said we’re babies. And we said we’re not. And he said, then how come I always have to baby-sit you? And I said I’m not a baby and he said prove it. So I egged your sheriff’s car.”
“What did Gary say to that?”
Kevin sighed. She could picture him rolling his eyes. “He said that was baby stuff and he said I had to do something to really prove I’m not a baby and I said I don’t know how and he told me what I could do.”
“And that was…?”
“What I did. You know. He gave me the glue and told me if I put it in all the pop machines, then I wasn’t a baby.”
“Did you do anything else?”
“Well…like I said, I egged your sheriff’s car.”
“And…?”
“And you caught me.”
Tanner coughed again. “Uh-huh. What I meant, did you do anything other than that? How about putting sugar in your mom’s gas tank? Or taking hubcaps? Or—?”
“Uh-uh, Tanner. No way. Just the eggs and the glue. And the window.” He paused. “So do ya think Mom’s gonna be mad?”
She waited, holding her breath, wanting to slip out from behind the bookcase to reassure him, to protect him. And understanding she had to stay right there.
The Sheriff's Son Page 14
