"Taking the two boys," Eden repeated his words in a quiet voice. "Your stepsons, right?"
"My stepsons, T.J. and Lucas. Right."
Right then, a man and a woman, strangers in town, came in separately. They took places at either end of the bar. They each ordered a rum and cola. And then the man looked at the woman and she looked back.
The woman smiled.
The man said, "Put the lady's drink on my tab." And he moved to her end of the bar.
Jared and Eden settled in at the other end. Jared was drying glasses. Eden was tidying up, consolidating bowls of cocktail mix, wiping down the bar, things like that.
Jared. didn't know what made him say it. But it was inside him, just itching to get out.
He told her, in a voice low enough that the other couple couldn't hear, "The truth is, stepfathers have got no damn rights at all."
"They don't?"
"No, they don't."
"Why not?"
"If the kids aren't yours by birth and you didn't manage to adopt them, then it doesn't matter what you've done for them." Jared turned and started putting the glasses away on a shelf, one at a time. As he set each glass down, he heard his own voice listing the little things, the everyday things, that make a man a father.
"So what if you walked the floor the nights they were sick? Or drove them to the dentist every time they had to go? Or made sure they got to their T-ball practice on time twice a week? Or fed them, or paid for the clothes on their backs?" He set the final glass on the shelf and then turned to pull the plug so the dirty water in the sink would drain.
He watched the murky water disappear and went on with his list, with all the little things that, in the end., had counted for nothing at all. "And who cares if you were the one to teach them how to tie their shoes? So what if you were tough when you had to be and said 'no' sometimes, because you knew it was the best thing for them, even though it damn sure didn't get you any points with them."
Jared rinsed the last of the dirty soapsuds down the drain. "You could have loved them with everything that's in you. And it doesn't mean squat, it doesn't mean a thing. If their mother wants to take them back to be with their real father, well, she can just go ahead. No court in this land will allow you a claim on them. They're nothing of yours. Just stepkids. That's all." Jared dragged in a deep breath and flipped on the faucet to refill the sink.
The room seemed very quiet then. The other couple wasn't talking, they were just staring into each other's eyes. And even the guys in the back room seemed to be keeping it down.
In that silence, Jared knew himself to be a fool. The worst kind of fool, one who talks too damn much. He started to turn away.
But then Eden asked., keeping her voice low, "Do you know where they are now?"
He felt the strangest thing. A kind of sweet relief. She wasn't going to say how sorry she was for him. She had only listened to him, accepted both his self-indulgence and his pain and then moved on from there.
He answered her. "Yeah. I know where they are."
"Did you ever try to see them?"
"Yeah. It was a mistake."
"Why?"
"Because Belle didn't want me around. And Dale didn't, either. And it confused the kids. It only caused problems. From what I understand, they're working things out as a family. And I…I wish them well." Miraculously, as he said the words, Jared realized they were true. The crippling bitterness he'd known for too long really was fading. He volunteered, "They teach about letting go, you know. In Alcoholics Anonymous?"
"Yes."
"So I'm learning. To let go. In this case, I think it's the best thing. Hell. Maybe it's the only thing I can do. Because like I said, I've got no damn rights with those kids anyway." He thought about Heather then, about how she was all grown up now and had her own life.
His expression must have told Eden something, because she asked, "What?"
"Just thinking. About raising kids."
"What about it?"
"If there's anyplace you have to let go, it's when you're raising kids. Maybe I just had to let go of Lucas and T.J. a little sooner than usual, that's all."
"Maybe," she said. She looked thoughtful. Then she asked, "So you married Belle because you liked her children?"
Jared actually laughed then. He had a lousy laugh and he knew it. He hadn't had a lot of practice at laughing during his life. "No, liking the boys came later."
Down the bar, the man and woman stopped staring at each other and glanced their way.
"'Nother round," the man said.
"Coming right up."
Jared went and mixed their drinks while Eden wiped down the tables and re-racked the pool cues. Then she went into the back room to check on the poker players there. She returned with four orders, including the usual tequila shooter for Rocky Collins and a whiskey and soda for Tim Brown. She set them up and Jared poured out.
Eden was leaning on the bar, waiting for him to finish, her chin in her hand. "Then why did you marry Belle, if not because of the kids?"
He didn't even hesitate. He said, careful only to keep his voice down so no one else would hear, "Because I wanted to have sex with her." He set the drinks on the tray.
Eden said, softly, "Hmm," and nodded, the way she did sometimes when he told her things, as if she were just storing them away, but making no judgments at this time. He watched her long, slender fingers with their pink-tipped nails as she moved the drinks around so the tray would balance. Then she slid the tray onto her left hand.
He heard himself adding before she could leave him, "I don't believe in sex outside of marriage. I've never had sex with a woman I wasn't married to first."
He expected her to laugh. Hell, he wanted her to laugh, to think he was joking, which he was not. If she had only laughed, it would have put some much-needed distance between them. It would have been a proof of a sort that she was not as sensitive nor as keen as he was beginning to believe.
But she didn't laugh. She only nodded again. "I see," she said and smiled the sweetest, most understanding smile. And then she turned to give the guys in the back room the drinks they had asked for.
And when she came back, she asked if he would mind if she called it a night. It was after ten and things were quiet. "Of course," she added, "I'll stay if you want me to."
And he realized he wanted more than anything right then to tell her to stay. But he remembered their understanding—the understanding that, as the nights went by, was getting harder and harder to keep in mind.
"Sure. Go on home," he said.
And she did.
* * *
It was after that night that the tension began to build between them again.
Jared tried to figure out exactly how it all came about, but he couldn't get it straight in his mind. He just knew that they'd come to an understanding, and there had been a time when they'd been careful of each other, distant with each other.
And then there had been a week or so when some connection beyond the way she turned him on had been forged.
That connection happened when she got him talking. God knows, he still had no idea how she did that. Even his sweet Sally had never been able to get him to talk. But Eden did it. And once she got him talking, she just listened, or said only what needed to be said to keep him talking.
But whatever the hell she had done, whatever had happened between them as he talked and she listened, it somehow made the denial of his desire for her all the harder to bear. Because he started to see her as an equal, as a contemporary. It got harder and harder to remember that she was closer to his daughter's age than his own, that he didn't have a damn thing to offer her, that he never intended to marry again anyway. And that he still held to his belief that it was wrong to have sex with a woman who wasn't his wife. Not only did he want her more, on more levels than before, he also began to feel more protective of her. Objectively he knew this new protectiveness was uncalled-for. She didn't need or want his protection. She could handle herself.
But wanting her so damn much and knowing he was not going to have her was putting more and more pressure on him as each night crawled by. And it just didn't help his attitude at all when other men would look her over.
He found himself realizing that it was very damn possible that some night a man could come strolling into The Hole in the Wall and walk out with Eden on his arm. Hell, it might be a perfectly suitable man. A decent, unattached man with a good job and a shining future. A real winner of a guy. And if this prize of a fellow liked Eden, and she liked him back, then there would be nothing to stand in the way of the two of them getting together. And that would be good; it would be for the best.
Eden was just what his father had said: a great gal. A hardworking woman with a good attitude and a terrific head for business. She deserved to hook up with a winner.
Jared just prayed to holy heaven that Mr. Terrific didn't dare show his face in North Magdalene until after Oggie was back on his feet and he was long gone. Jared wanted the best for Eden. And the best would be someone else, he understood that. He just didn't want to have to watch it happening.
In truth, he feared that if he were forced to watch it happening, he wouldn't be watching for long. He'd be leaping over the bar and beating the daylights out of some poor fool whose only fault was that he was just the kind of sharp, successful guy that Eden Parker deserved to fall in love with.
And then, on top of everything else, there was Oggie, driving Jared right up the wall with his never-ending questions and his sly remarks.
"How's Eden?" Oggie would ask the minute Jared arrived at Delilah's to visit him. "You treatin' her right? You ain't lettin' her work too hard, are you? That gal is a workin' fool, you know. It wouldn't do for you to take advantage of that."
"I won't take advantage of her, Dad."
Then came that damn cackling laugh. "Hell, son. I didn't say don't take advantage of her personally, just don't let her work too hard. If you want to take advantage of her, well, you are two adults and there's nothing that I can do to—"
"Drop it, Dad."
"I got a right to have my say."
"Sure you do. And I got a right to turn around and walk right out of here."
"You don't like Eden?"
"I like Eden just fine."
"Then what's the big deal if I ask you how she's doing?"
"No big deal, Dad."
"Good, then." And there'd be more of the same.
Somehow, Jared never seemed to be able to pay his father a visit that the old fool didn't ask him how Eden was doing, or how Eden was feeling, or how he and Eden were managing together. As if Oggie didn't know exactly how Eden was, since she went to visit him nearly every day.
Yeah, Oggie was driving Jared crazy, all right. It was beginning to seem like a toss-up to Jared as to where he'd be more likely to lose his temper first: while watching some punk put the make on Eden, or while listening to his father go on about how damn wonderful she was.
Jared knew he was getting close to the brink. And he did not want to go over. One of the things he'd told himself when he came in from the woods this time was that he was not going to get in any fights. His goal was to make peace with the world, not beat the holy hell out oft. Too bad that when he set that goal he hadn't known about Eden Parker. If he'd known about her and her long legs and wide mouth and those big brown eyes that lately seemed to be looking at him even in his dreams, he might have just stayed in the woods.
But it was too late now. He was here. And he was stuck here until his old man could walk again. And, by God, he was going to keep himself under iron control, if it killed him to do it.
But by Saturday night, two weeks after Oggie shot himself in the foot, Jared was ready to snap.
There was a hotheaded street fighter down inside Oggie Jones's oldest son. Jared had battled that troublemaker all of his life. And now, because of Eden, the battle with his own violent self was worse than it had ever been. He was determined to win out over it.
But he was losing.
The sad truth was that it wouldn't take much, now, for the street fighter to rule the day once more. He was only waiting. Waiting for the right excuse to take on any idiot who made the crucial error of looking at Jared—or Eden Parker—cross-eyed.
* * *
Chapter 9
« ^ »
The final Saturday night in August started out the same as the two previous ones. The place was humming when Jared came in at seven.
He went right to work mixing drinks so Eden could concentrate on playing waitress. They worked smoothly and swiftly for an hour or so, which was just fine with Jared.
Jared liked it when business was brisk. Not only did they bring in more money, but time went by faster. Even better, when things were hopping, Jared found that it was almost possible not to think for a while about how much he wanted Eden.
And tonight, all the trade they were getting really was a lifesaver. Because tonight it was even harder than usual not to think about Eden. She'd worn something different, a sort of Annie Oakley outfit, a Western shirt and fringed skirt and vest, along with a pair of white cowboy boots. The skirt wasn't that short. It ended just above her knees. But on Eden, a skirt didn't have to be short. Her legs were so damn gorgeous a man found himself staring at them even when all he could see was the little stretch of calf between her boot tops and her kneecaps.
Jared reminded himself to talk to her later. He'd tell her to stick with the black slacks and white shirt from now on—or else. And then he silently admitted that he'd do no such thing, because there was nothing wrong with the cowgirl outfit except that she looked great in it. He couldn't fault her for looking great, unless he was prepared to admit exactly why it bothered him. And no way was he going to do that.
So he worked fast and hard and told himself to be grateful it was a busy night.
At around eight, Rocky Collins, who was sitting on his favorite stool right by the little rubber mat where Jared poured the drinks, suddenly announced, "Well, lookit who's coming. Ain't that a sight?"
Jared glanced toward the window in time to see his sister Delilah and her husband, Sam, approaching the double doors to the bar. Sam was pushing Oggie in a wheelchair.
"Oggie!" Eden cried out. "Jared, look. It's Oggie."
Jared grunted. What a thrill, he thought.
He couldn't see what she was getting so excited about. After all, it wasn't as if they never saw the old geezer. Jared had visited his father at Sam and Delilah's house that very day and got a slew of unwanted questions and advice for his trouble. The questions, as usual, had been all about Eden. And the advice had been disgustingly personal.
"A man like you really needs a woman, son," Oggie had suggested. "'Cause sexual frustration can be a hell of a problem for a man in his prime. Matter of fact, sexual frustration can make a man a real trial to everyone who cares about him."
"Who the hell gave you the right to lecture me about my sex life, Dad?"
"Your sex life? Who said I was talkin' about your sex life. I said a man like you."
"Right."
"And as for the rest of it, well, that was scientific fact and that is all. When a man goes too long without sex, a pressure begins to build up, a pressure that has been proven by science to have to be let loose somewhere, and—"
"I never hit a man in a wheelchair, Dad. But there's a first time for everything."
Oggie cackled gleefully then. "See what I mean? Something's got to give, son, or before you know it, ka-blam! You're just gonna explode."
Jared had left soon after that. He figured he'd seen about enough of his old man for one day.
And Eden saw plenty of Oggie also. She visited him at Delilah's whenever she got the chance—or so Oggie and his sister were always telling him. Jared himself had never run into her there. And he knew why. She was being careful to go at times when she thought she wouldn't meet up with him.
North Magdalene was a dinky little town. However, since he and Eden had reach
ed their understanding, Jared hadn't run into her even once outside of the hours they were forced to work together.
At first, he'd been grateful that she gave him a wide berth whenever possible. But recently, as she'd drawn him out and got him talking during business hours, the way she avoided him the rest of the time had begun to irritate him. He knew his irritation was unreasonable. It was his own fault that she was staying out of his way. He had no right at all to be bugged about it.
But he was. He was damned annoyed.
Right that minute, she further annoyed him by clapping her serving tray on the end of the bar and rushing to prop open the double doors as if royalty had come to call. Oggie, with his bad foot leading the way, was then wheeled in with a lot of clucking and fluttering from Eden and Delilah, and with Sam doing most of the work of getting the old man's chair over the doorjamb.
"Hey, Jared." Sam saluted him. "How goes it, buddy?"
"It's been worse," Jared answered. He even attempted a smile for Sam's sake, in spite of his dark mood.
Jared and Sam went back a long ways. And beyond that, Jared couldn't help feeling respect for the man who had married his sister. Jared knew Delilah, after all. And he had a pretty good idea what kind of a man it would take to sleep with Delilah at night and still walk around smiling in the daytime the way Sam did. So Sam got a real greeting from Jared.
On the other hand, when Oggie called out, "Good to see you workin' so hard, son," Jared felt hard put to spare him a wave.
Once he was inside, Oggie was set up at the best table in the house. He ordered a whiskey on the rocks. Sam wanted a beer and Delilah asked for a vodka tonic. Then every damn customer in the place had to have a fresh drink so they could all propose toasts to Oggie's recovery and make bad jokes about people who shoot themselves in the foot.
Personally Jared thought the whole routine was a pain in the butt. But he gutted it out anyway, even raising his cola can once or twice at the toasts.
And then, just when things started to settle down a little, in came Brendan and Amy. They explained that they'd left the baby with Amy's teenage sister for the evening, so the grown-ups could have a little fun.
MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN Page 9
