by Kara Lennox
"Then why did you change your mind?"
"I didn't, exactly. But Andrew was so precious, such a miracle…and he looks so much like you, sometimes. I thought I owed it to you to at least let you know the child existed. But I wasn't coming here to make up with you. Certainly not to marry you. And live here? In Hooterville? I don't think so." She brushed past him and headed for the nursery.
Kevin started to follow her, then thought better of it. Maybe he ought to give her time to cool off.
Oh, who was he kidding? All the cooling-off time in the world wasn't going to fix this. If he could make her understand why he'd said those things about not wanting children…but he realized that to do so would require opening a box in his memory that had been locked up tight since he left Chicago. That was somewhere he just couldn't go, not if he wanted to maintain his sanity.
Chapter Six
After fleeing from her confrontation with Kevin, Tara took comfort in the refuge of her son's warm, cuddly body nestled in her arms. This was love, as pure as it came. Grown-up love, though, that was a lot more complicated. She loved Kevin. She couldn't stop loving him, no matter what he'd done.
She realized that, in his mind, Kevin could somehow justify the deceit he'd perpetrated. He sure hadn't pretended they were engaged out of a desire to be with his son. Maybe Debra had pressured him into "doing the right thing." Or perhaps he'd lied to her from some misguided notion that he knew what was best for Tara.
And maybe he did know, she thought glumly as she settled into a rocking chair with her sleeping child. These past couple of weeks had been some of the happiest of her life. As she'd settled into the rhythm of country living, she'd hardly given a thought to her business. Things at her design firm were probably in a shambles. And what about her bills, her bank accounts, all the pieces of her life she'd walked out on? She'd intended to be back home a week ago. Had Kevin even thought about that?
She heard the phone ring, then stop. Kevin had answered. She hoped it wasn't for her. She wasn't up to talking to anyone.
A few moments later, Kevin tapped on the nursery door.
"What?" she snapped.
He stuck his head through the door. "I have to go. The guy who mugged you was caught in the next county, trying to sell your rental car. We'll talk when I get back."
She refused to even look at him. With a sigh, he closed the door.
Tara knew what she had to do. She had to go home. If she gave Kevin the chance, he might convince her to stay – not because it was the right thing to do, but because, despite everything, she still wanted to be with him. But she had to think about Andrew. No child of hers would grow up under the same roof as a reluctant, bitter father.
She made flight reservations from the airport at Colorado Springs for later that evening. It didn't take her long to pack up her things. She'd only bought a few items of clothing to replace what was stolen. Andrew took longer – she couldn't believe all the paraphernalia babies required.
While she packed, she thought about her mugger. She'd never even seen his face, as he'd attacked her from behind. She was glad they'd caught the guy, but she hoped she wouldn't be required to testify in court. She didn't want to come back here for any reason. She never should have come in the first place.
When she was ready she called a cab. The fare to Colorado Springs would be exorbitant but she still had a credit card, which had been tucked into her pocket and overlooked by the mugger.
As the cab driver put her things in the trunk, she took one last look at the house. Kevin's house, nestled among the trees. She'd come to love it in so short a time. She purposely summoned thoughts of Chicago, where she'd lived for years, and which she'd missed so desperately the first few days in Colorado. Now, all she could remember was how noisy it was, how cramped her condo was, and how stressed out her hectic job made her feel.
"We'll get used to it again," she said aloud to Andrew. Fighting tears, she climbed into the cab, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder. Kevin would be surprised when he got home to find her gone. She hadn't even left a note. She figured that after what he'd done, he didn't deserve an explanation.
Anyway, he would probably be relieved.
* * *
It was after ten o'clock by the time Kevin returned home. The paperwork had been hell, but he'd managed to convince the sheriff in the neighboring county that the suspect should be prosecuted in Colby County, where the more serious crime had been committed.
The house was dark. Tara was probably already asleep. Before she'd become a mother, she was a real night owl, hanging out with friends at late-night coffee houses or going to midnight movies at the local art-house theatre. Now sleep was a precious commodity.
He wouldn't wake her up, he decided. Tomorrow would be soon enough for them to talk.
He moved as quietly as possible through the house. His stomach rumbled at the chili he'd missed out on. Were there leftovers, he wondered? To his dismay, the half cooked pot of chili still sat on the stove, stone cold. Tara hadn't finished it. He hoped she hadn't gone to bed hungry. He helped himself to a couple of cookies from the jar, then went to the nursery to check on Andrew.
The baby wasn't in his crib. Uneasiness crept up on Kevin. Surely the baby was just with Tara in the big bed. She had, on occasion, taken him to bed with her when he was fretful. Kevin had been worried he would roll over in the night and squash the child, so he'd made Tara keep Andrew on the other side of the bed. She'd probably thought that was another indication that he resented his son, he thought ruefully. A lot of his actions could be misinterpreted that way.
When he found the master bedroom empty and Tara's clothes gone, he was forced to admit he'd been abandoned.
He sank onto the bed, his gut churning, his head spinning. He'd known that lying to Tara was wrong. He'd have told her the truth in a few more days. His plan had been working – Tara had gradually been discovering the joys of country living. She might have been convinced to stay on her own and go through with the marriage. But her memory had returned too soon, and she'd made her decision.
And taken away his son.
Sure, he could petition the courts for visitation rights. But if Tara was against his having contact with Andrew, he couldn't see himself fighting with her over his parental rights. A child didn't need to grow up with his parents arguing over him. Besides, what had he done to indicate he ought to be given any rights where Andrew was concerned? He'd been a disgraceful father.
Something caught his eye – a pad of paper with some writing on it next to the phone. He immediately recognized the numbers and letters as flight information. Below the flight was a local phone number, one he didn't recognize. Seized with an idea, he dialed the number.
"Speedy Cab Service."
"Sorry, wrong number." He hung up. So, Tara had taken a cab to the airport in Colorado Springs. And her flight didn't leave for another two hours. She might not be that far ahead of him. A plan began to form. Not a very good plan, he admitted, but at least he would be taking some sort of action, rather than letting the woman and child he loved vanish from his life forever.
He headed for the door, grabbing his jacket on the way. Thank God he was still driving his police cruiser. He jumped in, cranked up the engine, and headed for the highway that led to Colorado Springs. Once on the open road, he pushed the speedometer to eighty, knowing no one would stop him.
He spotted a Speedy Cab ahead of him, about ten miles from the airport. Could be anybody in that taxi, he thought. Then he noticed the cab had a broken taillight. Good enough. He turned on the flashing lights.
Chapter Seven
Tara spotted the flashing lights behind them at the same time as her driver. The driver cursed under his breath and slowed. "I knew I should have gotten that taillight fixed," he muttered.
Tara knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, who was driving that Colby County cruiser, and writing up a ticket for a broken taillight wasn't his top priority. "It's just my boyfriend," Tara said to the driver.
"Ex-boyfriend. Keep driving."
"Are you crazy? I'm not gonna get involved in some crazy chase. Cabbies who do that, they end up on America's Most Dangerous Car Chases." He pulled over to the shoulder and dug around in the glove box for his papers.
Tara slouched down in the seat, knowing she'd brought this on herself. She'd left her flight information right where Kevin would find it. Had she subconsciously done it on purpose? Had she wanted him to chase her down, to prove his love?
Kevin, looking ominous in his khaki uniform, leaned down to speak with the driver. "Evening."
"I know, I got a busted taillight," the driver said as he handed Kevin papers he hadn't asked for. "It's on back order at Jimmy's Auto Supply."
"I believe you, Mr., um, Slater. And I won't write you a ticket. But I can't allow you to continue driving with a malfunctioning light."
"One little taillight?" the driver objected. "Look, I gotta get this lady to the airport."
"It just so happens I'm headed that way. I'll take the lady -"
"You will do no such thing," Tara erupted, unable to keep silent any longer.
"Then you'll sit here on the side of the road until another cab can come get you. If you come with me, you'll make your flight."
"Then what's the point?"
"There's a price to pay. You have to listen to what I have to say. Then, if you still want to return to Chicago, I won't stop you."
Tara sighed. It was as fair an offer as she was likely to get. "Fine," she ground out as she worked at the seat belt that held Andrew's car seat. "But I'm not changing my mind."
A few minutes later they were headed for the airport in Kevin's cruiser. She had paid the cabby, and Kevin had told him he could go, having capriciously decided the bad taillight was no longer a mortal danger to the drivers of Colorado. Now they sat in silence as the lights of Colorado Springs grew closer.
"You'd better start talking," Tara said. "We haven't got much time."
"This is harder than I thought it would be."
"Start with something easy. How did you know Andrew's name?" In the hospital, when she'd realized she didn't even remember her own child's name, Kevin had come up with it. During her cab ride, she'd wondered if he'd had some prior knowledge of the baby.
"It was a logical guess," Kevin answered. "So you really did name him after your father?"
"Yes." Tara was amazed at the accuracy of Kevin's guess. He knew her pretty well. "Let's move on to something harder. Why would you coerce me into marrying you when you don't like children?"
"I never said I didn't like children. I love Andrew."
"Couldn't prove it by the way you treat him."
"I love Andrew," he repeated. "But the fact is…he scares me."
Kevin felt his throat tighten at the mere mention of his phobia. He'd never admitted it to anyone – not his family or friends, not the shrink who saw him after the shooting, and certainly not Tara. But it was time to admit that the events in Chicago had left him changed.
"What do you mean he scares you?" Tara asked, sounding bewildered. "What possible harm could a little baby do to you?"
The cruiser sped past the Colorado Springs city limits sign. Kevin realized he didn't have that much time. He had to screw up his courage and tell her what had happened that day.
"It's not the harm he could do to me," Kevin said. "It's what I could do to him."
Tara shifted uneasily. "You'd better explain."
"That night in Chicago when we broke up… You were coming over to tell me you were pregnant – is that right?"
"Yes. I tried to ease my way into the subject. But at the mere mention of children, you went ballistic. You said you never wanted children, that the very idea made you nauseous. Do you blame me for not telling you that you were going to be a father?"
"No, I guess not. But I wasn't in my right mind that day. Something had happened on my shift, something… Tara, I killed a kid."
"What?" For the first time since he'd caught up with her, she didn't sound quite so mad.
"A little girl named Marvella White."
Kevin waited to see if the name rang a bell with Tara. The story had made the evening news, but in a city that had become numb to killing, the headlines about Marvella had quickly given way to some new tragedy.
"Marvella White was that little girl killed by her father," Tara said. "Right? What does that have to do with you?"
Kevin gripped the steering wheel harder. "I could have saved her. Instead I let her drugged-up old man blow her away."
Tara gasped. She couldn't help it. "You were there?"
"I was the first officer on the scene. A neighbor had called, said it was a domestic disturbance. I didn't know till I got there that some crazy S.O.B. was waving a gun, his wife screaming, pleading with him to put it down, two little kids cowering under a table.
"I called for back-up, but meanwhile I had to do something. So I tried talking to the guy. He said he was going to kill his wife. So I told him to think about his children – did he want them to grow up without a mother?
"The guy said, 'Why do I care? They're not my kids.' Then he turned his gun on little Marvella and shot her in the chest, just like that."
"Oh my God." Tara had had no idea. Why hadn't he told her what had happened? If she'd known, she would have made some allowances. Instead she'd been focused on her problems.
"I subdued the guy, and then I tried to stop Marvella's bleeding." He stopped, swallowed thickly. "She died in my arms."
"And you think this was somehow your fault?"
"It was my fault, damn it. I didn't know a damn thing about hostage negotiations. I had no business trying to reason with a guy who was high on PCP. All I did was provoke him."
"You did what you thought was right at the time. No one can say what he might have done if you hadn't talked to him. He might have killed them all, and you, too."
"That was what the board of inquiry said. But tell that to Marvella's mother, and her brother. All I know is when I lost her, I felt responsible. And I never wanted to feel that way again. I never wanted anyone to trust me with a child's life, in any capacity. The responsibility is just too huge."
Chapter Eight
Tara did her best to digest what Kevin had told her, to put herself in his place. How horrible, what a nightmare to believe you'd caused the death of a child. No wonder he'd freaked out.
"I wish I'd known," she finally said. "Maybe I could have helped."
"It's not too late."
The words hung in the air, almost tangible, as headlights from the opposite lane of traffic rushed by, illuminating Kevin's face like a strobe.
"Kevin," she said, "pull over. I need your undivided attention."
He did as she asked. When they were safely out of traffic, she felt she could say what needed to be said. And if she was lucky, Kevin would hear what he needed to hear.
"Parenthood is all about fear, and doubt, and sometimes sheer terror. While I was pregnant I agonized over every bite of food I put in my body, frightened I might unwittingly harm the baby inside me. During labor and delivery I was positive something would go wrong. The first time I held Andrew, I was sure I would crush him, or breathe some germ onto him and give him a fatal disease. When my doctor told me we could both go home from the hospital, it was a whole new level of terror. The baby and me, alone? I almost refused to go."
"You must have gotten over it, then," Kevin said. "You're as comfortable and natural with that baby as any mother I've ever seen. Once you got over the shock of seeing him in your lap, that is."
"That's where you're wrong. I'm still scared all the time. Is he going to fall? Catch a cold? Will I feed him something he's allergic to? Will he get stung by a bee? Is he developing normally? Is there some hidden genetic problem? I might fake it better than you, but I'm still scared."
"So when does it end? When do you get over being scared?"
"From what I hear, you never do."
"How do you…how do we live like that?
"
She didn't miss the change of pronoun. Did she dare hope that he could embrace his responsibility for Andrew? He'd come all this way to stop her from leaving him. That must mean something.
"I can live with the fear," she said, "because every time I hold Andrew, or feed him, or bathe him, or see him smile, I know he's worth any discomfort I have to go through. It was kind of like when I was in labor. I thought I was going to die, honestly. I was sure no woman had been through such pain in all of history."
Kevin reached out and caressed her cheek. "I wish I'd been there for you."
"But as soon as I saw him, all red and wrinkled and screaming his head off, I didn't care about the pain anymore. He's a miracle, and he's worth any trial, any sacrifice." She glanced over her shoulder. Andrew, good baby that he was, slept peacefully in his car seat.
"You both are," Kevin said. "Let me try again. I'll do better. I'll come back to Chicago with you. I'll join the force again. And I'll be a better father. I'm teachable."
Lord, how could she turn down that earnest face? She'd never seen such raw need in anyone. "I'll have to think about it. For now, could you just take us to the airport? I need to get home."
He didn't argue with her. He drove her to the airport. He helped her with her bag. He stood in line at the ticket counter with her, all the while looking like he wanted to burst with an objection.
She was afraid to admit to him that she was a bundle of indecision. Whatever she did in the next ten minutes would radically influence the rest of her life.
"This line is taking forever," she grumbled. "Will you hold down the fort while I run to the washroom?"
He glanced nervously at Andrew, who still dozed in his car seat. She could have sworn he gritted his teeth in determination. "Okay."
In the ladies' room, Tara splashed her face with water. Her heart was so full of confusing feelings, she thought it might whirl its way right out of her chest. She loved Kevin. That much was certain. She could forgive his deception, since he'd only done it because he wanted a chance to win her over. But could they really make a life together?
