The thick humidity surrounded her as she stood by the pond. It smelled the same: ripe, overly green, murky. She shielded her eyes and made her customary pass around the entire pond, grinned when she realized she looked for fish clusters the same as she’d done as a child. Some things never changed.
When Hank demanded to be let “owd,” her smile broadened into complete happiness as she moved to the back of the car and unfastened her son from his seat. Some things did change, and wasn’t that a wonderful part of life?
With Hank in her arms, she walked over to the largest flat rock and sat down, snuggling her child as he stared raptly at the rippling water. She bent her cheek to his and laughed when he reached over and wound his fingers into her braid, something he loved to do. She sighed deeply, content, happy to be home for a while longer, happy that Mark and Sissy had decided to come for a visit, too. And the thought of their coming baby, a little nephew or niece she could spoil, added to her happiness. Soon they’d know the joy of being parents—
“Annie.”
Focused on her thoughts, at first she barely heard the low voice that spoke her name. She glanced around, but didn’t see anyone. Hank rested his head on her shoulder and relaxed against her. She sighed again. It must have been the wind in the reeds she heard.
“Annie—”
Closer that time, and recognizable. Oh, no.
Annie whipped around, and faced Travis for the first time in two years.
Dismay, longing, and a touch of fear swamped her as she looked at him. He seemed wider in the shoulder, leaner through the cheeks, taller. His gaze locked on Hank, then flicked to her—and the expression on his face could only be described as hungry.
The urge to hide overwhelmed her, and she scrambled off the rock. She clutched her baby hard in her arms, prepared to run all the way back to Roanoke if she had to.
She’d often thought of this reunion, whatever it could be called. In her imagination, she’d stand firm and tell the only boy she ever loved he couldn’t be a part of his own son’s life. And he’d step aside and let her go. He’d understand why.
In reality, there was nowhere to run. There was nowhere to hide and no way to pretend his father hadn’t seen Hank, was even now staring at him as if he’d like nothing better than to grab him up and take off with him. She trembled as she pressed Hank’s cheek to her shoulder, and met Travis’s stunned gaze with defiance in her own. She’d face whatever accusation he flung at her, and then get the hell out of Thompkin with Hank and never come back.
For endless seconds, Travis looked at his son. She knew what he’d see, the strong Quincy resemblance. She battled the trembles, but she could still feel them, deep inside.
“What’s his name? How old is he?” Travis’s voice held a hoarse rasp. She edged away when his hand moved as if to reach out and touch. He hastily dropped his arm, and she saw his fingers clench, but she refused to feel guilty. Yet she ached to think she couldn’t be sure of his intentions.
Her arms tightened around Hank as she answered his questions, hearing the ring of pride in her words. “His name is Henry. Henry Travis Turner. We call him Hank. And he just turned one in February.”
“Turner. He doesn’t have my last name?” It was as much a question as a statement. This time when he extended a hand toward his son, Annie allowed it. He touched one of the silky curls that lay against Hank’s forehead.
She took a deep breath. “No. He doesn’t. I won’t apologize for not using your last name on the birth certificate, Travis.”
“You hid him from me.”
“Yes. I’m not apologizing for that, either.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
She looked away. “I don’t know. Probably not, at least not for a few years.” She knew her frank admission wounded him. “You know why I wouldn’t have told you.”
He released a heavy sigh. “My mother. She’d have been—I don’t even know. That’s the entire reason. Isn’t it?”
Annie nodded and adjusted Hank on her hip, cuddling him closer as he sagged in her arms. Honesty was innate to her, and now that Travis knew most of it, she wouldn’t lie to him any longer. “Yes, the biggest part of it. Look, I have to sit down. He’s heavy when he sleeps.” She moved back to the rock, perched on the rough surface, and rested the baby against her chest. Travis crowded next to her, close enough to touch. He rubbed his finger along Hank’s hand.
She wouldn’t go easy on Travis. “I’ve stayed away from Thompkin for a long time. Right after I found out I was pregnant. I finally came back for a visit because I missed my family. I guess it was stupid of me to think you’d never find out about Hank.”
It was hard to dredge up the pain from the last time she’d seen him. “When you left that day, I figured I’d never see you again. Maybe I told you to go, but you said you wouldn’t stop seeing Catherine Cabot, wouldn’t tell your mother where she could stuff her control of you. I ceased to be the most important person in your life. It broke my heart.”
She raised a hand to cut him off when he tried to protest. “You can’t deny it. You would have continued to see me, but in secret, as if I needed to be hidden away. All of the promises we made to each other didn’t seem to mean a thing to you, and that hurt most of all.”
“Annie—”
“I’m not through.” She hitched the baby higher on her shoulder. “I understood you had to finish what you’d started. I know how important Yale was to you. I wasn’t asking you to change your life, Travis, just to keep me in it, and do that out in the open, proud of what we had together. That was all I wanted. Suddenly you seemed to be ashamed of me, and it hurt, badly.”
She pressed a hand against Hank’s neck to support him as he dozed. “When I found out I was pregnant, I did the only thing I could do to protect my baby. I moved away, and I made a life without you. I’ll tell you honestly: if I’d been carrying a girl, I’d have gotten hold of you as soon as I had the ultrasound printout in my hand. Your mama wouldn’t have cared one way or another about a little girl. Would she?” Her voice remained calm and matter-of-fact, but her insides quaked as she waited for his response.
“Annie . . .”
“Answer me.” She wouldn’t take on another speck of guilt. She’d done what was best for Hank, and nothing else mattered. Not her feelings. Not Travis’s, either.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, dropped it into his lap. Finally, he admitted, “She might not have cared about a girl. But what could make up for the year I’ve lost, not knowing my son? What about the two years I lost, of you? I’m trying to understand. I know you had to be scared of going through a pregnancy all alone, even though I’m sure your family helped you. But now that I’m seeing him . . .”
Travis gestured toward Hank. “I want him, Annie. I want both of you. He’s my son. You have to let me be his father. And I can’t bear to lose you again.”
He leaned closer, but she slid sideways on the warm rock, putting a few more feet between them, refusing to allow remorse to fuel regret. What was it Susan said once, right after Hank’s birth? “Sperm donation doesn’t make a guy some baby’s daddy.” Annie remembered those words, every time she’d longed to pick up the phone and call Travis.
Now she retorted, “You’re his father, but you’re not his daddy. He might never have a daddy. I’m prepared to raise him by myself. I’m doing a good job of it, Travis. Don’t think otherwise.”
She shouldn’t be telling him anything personal. She shouldn’t trust him. But the need to make him understand her strive toward independence also made her less than cautious. “I’ve got a partial scholarship to Hollins University, and a student loan takes care of the rest. I’m standing on my own feet and starting to make my own way. In a few weeks, I’ll get a head start on my sophomore year and I’m also working at the campus bookstore part-time. My manager adores Hank.”
She stroked her son’s downy cheek and cradled it against her palm, noting the way Travis followed the path of her hand as if wishing h
e were the one doing the stroking. She pushed away more remorse.
He looked up with a pained expression. “I don’t know what to say, Annie. I’m proud of you, that you’ve done all of this on your own. But you didn’t have to be alone. We could have done it together.” Travis brushed his fingers over her cheek, and for a few mad moments she let him get close to her, closer than she knew was wise. Her eyes half closed from the joy of his touch after so long without it.
If only circumstances were different, Travis would be the one who held Hank right now, and she’d sit next to them both, filled with her own pride at the picture father and son made, nestled together on their favorite rock next to Bogg Pond. And she’d wear his ring.
She blinked away the fantasy and concentrated on the reality. Her subtle movement away from Travis’s hand wasn’t lost on him. She saw the way his jaw clenched. It seemed she couldn’t help causing him pain, any more than he’d done to her in the past.
“You can’t support either of us, Travis.” She shook her head as he reacted to her bluntness. “No, you can’t. We both know it. Still under your mother’s control, aren’t you? Don’t bother to deny it.” She waved away his protest. “I’ve started putting away some money now and then. I doubt you can say the same thing.”
“Annie, you don’t understand—”
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t have much claim on this child. And your mother has none. She’ll never take him from me. You’d better understand that, right up front.”
“She’s his grandmother. I’m his father.” Travis stood, his face almost even with hers as she sat on the rock and held Hank so tightly. “There are rights to consider—”
“No.” She was determined not to panic. “I remember the look in your mother’s eyes the night of the Quincy holiday party. And at the hospital, the very next day. Hate, Travis. That’s what I saw. I’ll never allow my child to be exposed to hatred.” She blew out a shaky breath. “As for your rights, I don’t know if I could trust you not to take Hank to your mother and stand back as she tries to keep him from me.”
His mouth fell open, as if stunned that she would think him capable of doing something so underhanded. “I wouldn’t! You know me better than that.”
Her lips quirked sadly. “I thought I did. I’m not so sure, anymore.”
She soothed Hank when he awoke a bit and snuffled, a sign of fussiness. His eyes opened briefly, and he offered a drowsy smile, revealing several pearly baby teeth, before he snuggled closer to his mother and shoved two fingers into his mouth. She hummed as she rocked him and his eyes fluttered shut, asleep again.
She laid her cheek on Hank’s soft hair and watched Travis through a veil of blurred tears she could no longer hold back. “He’s all I have. With my family’s help, I’ve been able to spend most of my time with him. I’m a good mother. The first thing your mama would do, if she knew about him, would be to hire a bunch of fancy lawyers and take me to court for custody.” She wiped the dampness from her cheek as a few tears spilled over. “This is your heir, Travis. She doesn’t want me in the family, but I’d lay odds she’d want Hank. And she’d find a way to get him.”
Without another word, Annie rose and turned toward her car. Travis grasped the sleeve of her jacket to forestall her and demanded, “Where are you going? Annie, we have things we need to talk about.”
She pulled away from his hold, reaching the car a second before he did. He opened the back door, and she fastened Hank in his car seat. Travis gazed at his son, but made no move to touch him again. Instead, he repeated, “We have to talk, Annie, the sooner, the better.”
Weary of confrontation, all Annie wanted to do was go home to her parents. She clung to what scraps of strength she had left. “Not now, Travis. Let it rest a few days. I don’t know what else there is to say, but I can’t deal with it right now.”
It was difficult to remain firm, yet her voice held steady. She tucked her hands in her pockets so Travis wouldn’t see how her fingers shook. “I’m asking you to keep Hank to yourself. I’m asking you to tell no one, not even Martha. I’m only eighteen, Travis. You may be coming up on twenty-two, but you’re still under your mother’s financial thumb. I know darned well she has a lot of control over you and your life, your future. And I may not like it, but I do understand why you didn’t want to get on her bad side two years ago.”
Looking into his set face, she couldn’t tell whether or not her words got through to him. “If your mother wanted to, she could destroy my life. I couldn’t fight her, and my family is too poor to help. You’re not the kind of man who could take care of us. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, but you know it’s true.”
While he remained silent, gazing at her with a stark look of misery, she slid into the front seat and rolled down the window. “I’ll keep you posted on how Hank is doing. I’ll think about having a talk with you, that much I can promise, but right now I have to go.”
Before she could start the car, he placed his hand on her door. “Annie? I’m glad he’s got your eyes.”
His words made it easier to offer him a smile. “I’m glad he’s got everything else, of you.”
Chapter 21
As soon as Annie got back to the house, she carried Hank upstairs and settled him in his crib. He sighed once and snuggled into his blanket. He’d nap for at least another hour, and she’d need all of that hour, and probably more, to talk to her folks. Maybe they’d be able to get her past the panic she could no longer fight.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Mark’s deep voice and Mama’s soft tones resonated. Annie took the stairs slowly, her thoughts in turmoil. The unexpected confrontation with Travis at Bogg Pond had thrown her off-balance. If she’d known she would face him, she could have better prepared. But now she felt vulnerable, in spite of her strong words.
Coming home for this length of time was a gamble. In Roanoke, she always felt safe. She’d never worried these past two years with Aunt Nan. She hadn’t run into a single person she knew, outside her family, and it wasn’t as if she’d lived the life of a hermit and hidden herself away. Nobody in Roanoke ever pointed at her and exclaimed, “Look, there goes that girl who had a baby out of wedlock.” It was a big place, and no one cared what anyone else did.
But Thompkin was different. You couldn’t expect an entire town to keep quiet about a baby who looked like the twin of that town’s leading son.
“Annie, you’re finally back. What took you so long?” Her mama jumped up as soon as Annie walked into the kitchen, and poured her a tall glass of lemonade from the pitcher on the counter. Annie moved behind Mark’s chair and leaned down to give him a hug and to press her cheek to his. He squeezed the hand she rested on his shoulder.
She sank into the chair across from Mama’s, accepted the lemonade, and baldly announced, “Travis is in town. He saw Hank. What am I going to do?”
At Cabot Estate, Catherine sat on the rear veranda and let the glider rock her, absently pushing off with one foot. Her attention wasn’t on the lovely view of the formal gardens or the tinkling waterfall that graced her mother’s prized koi pond.
She’d seen the child—a boy, she felt certain—with her own eyes. And she struggled to deny who the father was.
It shouldn’t have come as a complete surprise after all, that Travis would have sex with that Annie Turner. He was a healthy male, and men sowed their wild oats before they married. It was expected of them. She’d known Travis would sow a few of his. Judging by the age of the baby Annie had lifted from the back seat of that little blue car parked in front of the Coffee Hut, she would have been about sixteen when they did it, made love, had the sex.
Well, why not? They’d probably been engaged by then. If she’d been in Annie’s shoes and someone like Travis kissed her, asked for more than a hug, Catherine doubted she could resist.
It was pure bad luck she’d been right across the street in her Audi, pathetically watching for Travis, as usual. She’d called up to Quincy Hall to speak with him and one of
the day maids told her Travis was in town on errands for Martha. The maid provided a few places where Catherine might find him. So she’d driven into town like a lovesick idiot, hoping to see him.
Well, she hadn’t found Travis, but she’d gotten an eyeful, anyway. She’d seen Annie and her baby enter the Coffee Hut. Shaken, Catherine didn’t bother to stick around. As she drove back home, her hands trembled on the steering wheel.
A baby changed everything. Travis couldn’t know, or else he’d have already said something to her. He’d be so proud, he’d probably be unable to contain himself. She knew what it would mean to him.
If he hadn’t yet heard about the baby, then of course Ruth was ignorant of the child’s existence as well. Although, how anyone could hide in Thompkin and not be discovered by the plethora of busybodies who lived here, Catherine hadn’t a clue. Unless Annie somehow found a way to have the child in secret.
That was it. It had to be. She stopped the glider abruptly, certain she had the right answer. Annie couldn’t have had the baby anywhere close to Thompkin. Her family still lived here, but that didn’t mean anything. They must have sent her away to have the child, and raise it, probably ashamed of her behavior.
And now she’d come back, perhaps to confront them? Make them give her a hand with the child? Maybe ask them for money? It was impossible to say. She didn’t know Annie or her family. Her limited knowledge of the Turners came from what Travis had told her over the years.
If Travis loved her, then Annie had to be a decent person. But Catherine found it tough to think of her in any kind of positive light. Even though Travis and Annie had parted, it was painfully obvious to her that Annie still held his heart.
She left the glider and made her way inside. Sooner or later, Travis would find out he had a son. She sure didn’t want to be the one who told him, but he’d be home for at least two more weeks. People here in Thompkin couldn’t keep anything to themselves.
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