by Beverly Long
Tilda’s eyes filled with tears. Not everyone was going to feel the same way as Raeann. Many others were going to assume that she’d had bad motives and had been deliberately cruel. But having her best friend in her corner meant a lot. “Thank you,” she said. “For believing me. For believing in me.”
“Who’s the father?” Raeann asked.
“Blaine Colton.” Raeann had not gone to high school with them.
“As in Colton of the Coltons?”
“Yes. He’s a middle brother. Wyatt and Decker are older. The twins, Skye and Phoebe, are younger. There’s also Fox and Sloane, who are actually cousins but were raised alongside Blaine and his brothers and sisters after their parents died.”
“I follow Skye on social media,” Raeann said. “It’s some family!”
That was one way to put it. One need not have grown up in Roaring Springs to realize the power that came along with the Colton name. Power to crush an adversary. Power to...oh, God...take a child away from a loving mother.
The five-minute bell rang, warning kids that lunch was almost over. She had three more hours to get through before she could go home and cry.
“How do you feel about Blaine after all these years?” Raeann asked.
That was a complicated question. “He evidently did really well in the military.”
“Good for Blaine,” Raeann said. “How do you feel about him?” She’d never been one to let her questions be pushed aside.
Tilda swallowed hard. “He’s a man who has seen things. Been tested. Hardened. I see that in him. But when I look into his eyes, I see the boy I fell for, the boy who could make me laugh and even make me watch scary movies because he was there to protect me. The boy I might even have loved.” There. She’d said it. Out loud. “But I suspect he’s not reflecting quite the same way on our shared past.”
“You don’t know that, Tilda, But the one thing I do know is that once Blaine Colton realizes what a good person you are and what a great mom you’ve always been, he’ll come around.”
Raeann hadn’t seen the look in Blaine’s eyes. He despised her for what she’d done.
* * *
Blaine was in his office, looking at spreadsheets, when there was a knock on his door. He looked up to see Decker.
“Penny said you stopped by earlier. Did you need something?” his brother asked.
Blaine waved him in, toward a seat at the table in the corner. He joined Decker there. “I wanted to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
“This is going to come out of left field, but I’m just going to say it. I mentioned seeing Tilda Deeds the other day. And her son. Well, it turns out that he’s mine. My biological child.”
Decker said nothing for a minute. Finally, he offered up a smile. “Congratulations?”
Blaine nodded. “Yeah, it’s a good thing. I mean, I’m still getting my head around it, but yes, I’m a father.”
“You had no idea.”
“I thought Tilda had miscarried the child. That was before I left for the army.”
Decker leaned back in his chair. “Was that why you were going to marry her? You never said anything about a child.”
“I know I didn’t. We were keeping it to ourselves.” In any other circumstance, he’d have told Decker the full truth. But Tilda hadn’t been ready for that and he’d never considered going against her wishes. She was his future. They were linked in all things going forward. At least it had seemed that way to him. In retrospect, perhaps his thinking had been a little one-sided. “That was certainly a big reason. I would never have walked away from my child.”
Decker held up a hand. “Of course,” he said, as if there was never a question about that. “Wow. Have you told Mom and Dad?”
“Yes. Last night.”
“What did they say?”
“Mom was immediately suspicious of her motives,” Blaine said. “But suffice it to say, if Tilda had her way, she’d have probably continued to keep it a secret.”
“I guess Tilda’s not as nice as she wants everybody to think,” Decker said.
“Maybe not,” Blaine said. It was nice to have Decker solidly in his corner. “It does seem as if she’s done a good job with Josh,” he added...well, because it was true. She’d certainly done a commendable job with the conversation with Josh. Hadn’t made a lot of excuses.
“Josh knows?”
“Yeah. We went out for dinner last night, just him and me. He said it felt weird to call me Dad. We settled on Blaine for now.”
“Probably a good idea not to get hung up on the small stuff. I know you mentioned the other day that he seemed like a good kid, but something like this could throw the most stable of kids off their stride.”
The idea of that made him feel ill. He recalled vividly having conversations with men in his unit who were married and had kids at home. They would get a letter, some kind of news, and it would take their heads out of the game for days. Now he understood that a little better. Worrying about a kid was all-consuming.
“Can I tell Kendall?” Decker asked.
“Of course. Even if I said no, you probably would, right?”
“Yeah,” Decker admitted. “No secrets.”
Blaine was a little envious. That clearly wasn’t the relationship that he and Tilda shared. Had ever really shared.
As if reading his mind, Decker asked, “Has she given you an explanation for why she did this? Why she hid the fact that you have a son for thirteen years?”
Blaine shook his head. He stood up to go. They both had work to do.
“It better have been a damn good reason,” Decker said.
“To be honest, I can’t think of any reason that would be good enough,” Blaine gritted out.
Decker stood up and walked to the door. “I understand. But I think you’re going to have to find a way to get past your feelings. For the sake of your son.”
Two hours later, Blaine tried to remember Decker’s advice as he called Tilda’s cell phone for the second time in ten minutes and it went straight to voice mail again. He glanced at his watch. The school day was over. There was no reason for her not to answer her phone. Unless she was avoiding him.
The hell with that. He closed down his laptop and was fast getting to the parking lot. Then drove down the mountain and was parked in front of the school in fifteen minutes. They’d added a wing since he and Tilda had been students there. But beyond that, it looked remarkably the same.
He’d been a good athlete and a pretty good student, with enough money to do the things he’d wanted to do. His girlfriend had been the prettiest in the whole school. But still, he had very eagerly anticipated graduation. Because that meant that he could get away. From Roaring Springs, where everybody had an opinion of the Coltons. From his father and his constant insistence that Blaine would join the family business. From everybody who didn’t understand that he wanted to serve his country.
With the optimism of youth, he’d seen endless possibilities. Until his world had come crashing down in the form of a positive pregnancy test.
When that problem had seemingly gone away, he’d left Roaring Springs, never anticipating that he’d set foot in the school again. But here he was. And likely would be again, he realized, because in two years, Josh would be a student here. Blaine would be coming to parent–teacher conferences, athletic events, school plays. The whole deal.
He’d do better than his own dad. Of that, he was confident. He would never put any business interest ahead of Josh. His son would know how much he was loved.
He walked up the steps and tried the front door. It was locked. Not surprising, considering the violence that had occurred in so many high schools. He was glad to see it. He rang the bell next to the door and looked up into the camera.
“May I help you?” the voice over the intercom asked.
�
�Blaine Colton to see Tilda Deeds.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes,” he lied.
The buzzer sounded, and he reached for the door. Blaine didn’t know the number of Tilda’s classroom, but he could still remember the hallway where most of the English classes had been taught. He headed in that direction.
Twenty feet away from room 230, he heard a raised voice. Male. Then a softer one. Tilda. He picked up his pace. Edged around the corner to see a teenage boy standing in front of a teacher’s desk. Behind the desk, standing, but still several inches shorter than the boy, was Tilda. She had her hands on the back of her chair, and she looked very serious.
“I was hoping to see a paper from you today, Toby. As I said, I’m going to fail you if you don’t do the work,” she said, her voice soft, yet still firm. “You won’t graduate with your class.”
“I don’t care,” the young man said. He said it easily enough, but Blaine wasn’t confident that the kid was telling the truth.
“You should. And I know you have the ability to be successful. That’s the part I can’t understand. Tomorrow is the last day I will accept the paper. I’ve got a note here for you to take home. One of your parents needs to sign it acknowledging that they are aware that you’re in jeopardy of failing this class and failing to graduate. I expect it to also be returned by the end of the day tomorrow.”
“My parents are out of town,” Toby said, sounding bored.
“Will they be back this weekend?”
“I guess,” he muttered.
“Then bring it Monday. You are excused.” She slid the paper in her hand across the desk.
When the kid made no effort to move, Blaine swung around the corner. “Ms. Deeds, I think I’m your next appointment.” He offered up a smile in her direction while he sized up the teenager.
Toby was staring at Tilda, animosity in his eyes. When he leaned towards Tilda, putting himself within arm’s reach, every protective instinct Blaine had surged upward. The kid had big hands, hands that could do damage.
Blaine took three steps and got close to Tilda. Close enough that his body edged hers back.
Toby said nothing and after a long minute, he picked up the paper on the desk and shoved it into the zipper compartment of his backpack. Then he left without another word. Tilda pulled back her chair and sank into it, head forward, chin down.
She seemed worn out. And fragile. Her long hair fell over her face and it was a startling reminder of when he’d pulled out her hair pins on prom night and let down the wild mass, letting it flow over her naked breasts.
He’d thought her fragile that night, too. Until she’d taken him into her body and then he’d thought her a warrior.
He took a step back, feeling unsure. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice sounding rough.
“Just tired of fighting the same battle,” she said, looking up.
“What’s his story?” Blaine asked.
“Decent kid who has fallen off the rails in the last couple of months. Doesn’t turn in assignments. Is failing most of the tests.”
“In just your class or every class?”
“Most of his classes,” she said. “I’m afraid that his other teachers have written him off.”
“But you haven’t. Are you sure he’s a good kid?” He was having a hard time forgetting the look in Toby’s eyes.
“I think so.” Turning to him, she arched a brow. “We did not have an appointment.”
“No, we didn’t. And you should tell whoever it was that buzzed me in that they should verify the person has an appointment before letting them wander through the school.”
“We have a temp in the office. Our regular secretary is on medical leave. She would have known to do that. I’ll make sure I say something. Unfortunately, we’re all too familiar with the need to be more vigilant with security.”
He’d not given much thought to the dangers in Tilda’s job, but they were definitely there. “I called you,” he said. “You didn’t answer. I thought you might be avoiding me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Would that be a good long-term strategy?”
“No.”
“I wouldn’t have thought so,” she said. “Your mother called me.”
Wow. That had been fast. “She’s always been very efficient.”
“She wants Josh to come for lunch on Saturday. I told her that I wouldn’t let him come by himself, and she did extend the invitation to me, too.”
More than he’d done the previous night. “I’ll let her know that I’ll attend, as well.”
“Fine,” she said, as if she could not care less. “Josh might need some time to come to terms with being a Colton. I don’t want your parents heaping a bunch of expectations on him.”
He knew all about Colton expectations. His father had expected him to join the business, and that had been the furthest thing from his mind. It was kind of ironic now that he was working at The Lodge, but that was just temporary. “I’ll handle my parents. We need to work out a schedule for when I can see Josh.”
She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll talk to Josh tonight.”
“You will?” he prodded.
“I said I would.”
Now she sounded irritated. Well, that made two of them. He was irritated beyond measure that he was having to ask to see his son. “How was he when he got home last night from our dinner?”
“Fine. He didn’t say much.”
“Is that normal?”
“Not really,” she said. There was something in her tone that wasn’t right. She sounded...hurt.
“He’s a smart, funny kid. He’s going to be able to handle this,” he said, not sure if he was assuring her or himself.
“I hope so,” she said. “He has to come first, Blaine.”
“I don’t disagree.”
She stared at him. “Then, please, for his sake, don’t get him all excited about having a father again if you’re planning on leaving again.”
He had been planning on leaving. This was only supposed to be a temporary stop. “Even if I...” He stopped. Even if he did leave, there was no reason that Josh couldn’t come with him. But he didn’t want to have that discussion and inevitable argument right now.
“Even if you what?” she asked.
“Even if I get him all excited, I imagine that you’ll be able to temper his enthusiasm.” His comment came out as a little mean-spirited, and he wasn’t happy with that, but she’d pushed him into a corner.
She sighed. “I need to lock my classroom. You need to go.”
He should apologize. “I—”
“Good night, Blaine,” she interrupted him, looking pointedly at the door.
He walked out without another word.
* * *
When Tilda got home, Josh and his friend Isaac were on the couch, along with two open bags of chips and a package of chocolate chip cookies. “Hey, guys,” she said. “How’s it going?”
Josh said nothing.
“You know, the usual Mrs. D.,” Isaac said. “School is a bore, and Josh has a new dad.”
She was glad that Josh had confided in his best friend. He needed somebody to talk to since he obviously wasn’t talking to her. “Exciting news, huh?” she murmured, keeping a smile on her face.
“I’ll say. You guys are rich now.”
“Then, why is there only forty dollars in my billfold?” she said, keeping her tone light. She wasn’t going to let her son’s friend throw her off her game. If she allowed that, she’d better just give up teaching high school right now.
“I told Josh he should ask for free lessons at The Lodge. For both of us.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, then turned to her son. “Good day at school?”
“Fine,” he muttered, not even taking his eyes o
ff the television. “Let’s go to my room,” he told Isaac.
“Okay. I’ll bring the chips. You get the cookies.”
Tilda should probably warn them about ruining their dinner, but right now, she just couldn’t muster the energy. She waited until she heard Josh’s door shut, then sank down onto the couch, where her son had been. She let her head fall back, then turned her face to rest her cheek against the cushion.
It was still warm from his body.
As a baby, how many nights had she held him close, his body warm and soft in her arms? In the early days, she’d agonized over the decision to pass him off to others as Dorian’s son. But she had eventually come to terms with the deception, especially since Dorian had known the truth and it hadn’t mattered to him. And, ultimately, what truly mattered was that Josh had a dad who wanted him. A dad who was around for his first words, his first steps. A dad who wanted to be in Roaring Springs, to raise a family here.
A dad whose family didn’t scare the hell out of her.
Saturday’s lunch with Mara Colton loomed large. She could probably back out, ask Blaine to accompany Josh. Remove herself from any possible confrontation.
But the idea that her son would meet his new grandparents without her there to run interference was simply not an option. He likely wouldn’t be happy that she was going. After all, right now, he didn’t seem to want her around at all. But Josh didn’t understand these people like she did. And if they thought that they were simply going to push her aside, they had better think again.
Chapter 7
On Friday, Blaine was eating lunch at his desk when there was a light knock on the door. It was his cousin Sloane.
He got up, walked around his desk and hugged her. “Oh, man. Good to see you. I’m sorry I missed your and Liam’s wedding.”
She smiled. “It was small, just at the courthouse.”
“You’ve taken on a lot. New job. New marriage.”
“Don’t forget I’m raising a two-year-old,” she said teasingly, as if she wanted full credit. “And if the grapevine is correct, Chloe is not the only Colton grandchild.”
