Читать книгу A Daddy for Jacoby - Christyne Butler - Страница 9

Justin couldn’t move. He wanted to. His legs screamed at him to run. Run hard and run fast and never look back. Ashamed at that thought, he shoved it aside to concentrate on what the girl had just said.

“My what?”

She yanked on the kid’s T-shirt, forcing him to stumble forward. “Your son. Jacoby Joseph Ellis.”

At the mention of his father’s name as this child’s middle name, Justin’s gaze snapped from the boy, whose downcast eyes were centered on his own dirty sneakers, one sporting a big hole in the toe, back to her.

“How—He can’t—He can’t be more than five years old. I’ve been in pri—” He paused and pulled in a deep breath. “I’ve been out of touch for the last seven years.”

“He’s small for his age. His seventh birthday was in January. If you count back nine months…”

April. Eight-plus years ago. A few months before he and Billy Joe had been busted for drug trafficking.

A bust he’d actually helped with.

Tired of the life he’d been living, Justin had anonymously slipped insider information to the cops on the drug ring he and his brother worked for. The guilt and fear over what he’d been doing had caused him to live in an alcohol-induced haze for weeks. No drugs, though. He’d never touched the stuff, despite his chosen profession, but partying had included a wild weekend he and his buddies had spent in a small town in Colorado.

Was it possible he was this boy’s father?

He tried to remember the girl as she rummaged in the large purse at her shoulder. She pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper. “Here’s his birth certificate.”

Justin read his name listed as the boy’s father. “If this is true, why now? Why not get in touch with me when he was born?”

“What could you have done from where you were?”

“You knew where I was?” He clenched the certificate in his fist. “But you never thought to tell me you had my baby?”

“Ah, it might be better if you all move to one of the back booths?”

Justin looked up to find Gina standing behind the little boy. He read curiosity, concern and another emotion he couldn’t identify in her eyes. She looked from him to the main area of the bar. He then noticed both Jackie and Ric had disappeared, but the tables had filled up, and most were watching them.

Damn, he should’ve thought of that. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

He marched to the other side of the bar and slid into the end booth. He watched Zoe eagerly follow, not even looking back to make sure the boy was with her. She plopped down next to Justin, moving in much too close.

“How about burgers and fries for you two?” Gina asked as she helped the little boy get settled into the opposite seat.

“And sodas,” Zoe added.

“Maybe milk for your son?”

Justin picked up on the edge in Gina’s voice as she stared at him. What? She expected him to make that call?

Zoe waved away the question, her attention on Justin as she rested her hand on his arm. “Oh, he drinks soda all the time.”

“Except at school. I have chocolate milk there.”

Justin shook off Zoe’s touch as the boy spoke for the first time, even though it seemed like he was talking to his bear instead of to one of the adults.

“Chocolate milk is my favorite. I’ll be right back.” Gina’s smile for the boy was sweet, but it disappeared as she shot Justin a hard look before walking away.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Zoe asked.

“What? No, she’s…a coworker.” Justin smoothed out the birth certificate and folded it in half. “I work here at The Blue Creek. How did you know where to find me?”

“I figured this was the best place to start. You talked about this bar that weekend we spent together. Besides, who can forget a town called Destiny?”

The pieces were starting to fall back into place. He and his buddies had gone on a road trip. They’d ended up at a house party and a couple of guys had been in the kitchen giving a girl a hard time. He’d stepped in and she’d stuck by his side the rest of the night.

And the rest of the weekend.

“You told me your name was Susie,” he said, more details surfacing in his foggy brain.

“Yeah, I lied.” She shrugged. “It was just for fun.”

“How do I know you’re not lying now? Just because you put my name on that piece of paper—”

Gina appeared with two plates of food and the drinks, cutting off his words. She must’ve taken someone else’s order to get back so fast. After everything was on the table, she turned to the boy. “Would you like to wash your hands before you eat?”

Justin thought the kid needed to be scrubbed from head to toe, but he kept quiet. Zoe dug into the food, ignoring everything else.

“Okay,” the boy said.

Gina held out her hand and he went with her. “I’ll take him to the kitchen.”

His mother didn’t reply, so Justin nodded. Waiting until they were out of earshot, he grabbed for the soda the same moment Zoe did.

“Hey!”

“You let your son go off with a total stranger?”

Zoe looked at him. “Like she’s going to run off with the kid? She looks like she’s barely out of college.”

If he remembered correctly, Zoe was a few years older than Gina. Unless that had been a lie, too. “You told me you were nineteen back then. Was that the truth?”

She tucked the birth certificate into the pocket of his T-shirt. “Yes. Now, can I have my drink?”

He handed over the soda. “You still haven’t told me why you never got a hold of me.”

“I thought about it when I found out I was pregnant, but then I heard about your arrest. Like I said, there was nothing you could do from where you were heading and heck, we were just a one-night—one-weekend stand.” She paused to take a long swallow from the cup. “I figured I could handle things myself.”

“So, why look me up now?”

“I read you got out of prison early for good behavior. Hey, I’m not going to lie, the last seven years have been hard. I’m not too proud to come and ask for help.”

He didn’t know what to say. Was the kid his? Without a DNA test, he couldn’t be sure, no matter how the dates matched up.

Gina returned with the boy, who started in on his food with an enthusiasm that left Justin wondering when was the last time they’d eaten a meal.

“You make sure you eat all that,” she directed her comments to her son. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. You be good and don’t give your dad any trouble, you hear?”

The ketchup bottle in the boy’s hand stilled at he looked at his mom with dark eyes. They shifted to lock on to Justin before the child nodded solemnly.

Justin sat mute, having no idea how to respond to her words. He watched her slip out of the booth and head for the front foyer where the restrooms were located. When she disappeared through the swinging doors, he turned his attention back to the boy, noticing they had the same dark hair and eyes.

Jacoby Ellis. His son?

If it was true, shouldn’t he feel something? A pull? A spark? That unexplained connection between parent and child?

He doubted his father ever had felt that toward him, his brother or sister. Joseph Dillon hadn’t had a paternal bone in his body. Justin had only been five when their mother died, but there was never any doubt that she’d loved all her children with a fierce devotion. He was still able to recall the warmth of her touch. And the sound of her tears.

He shook off the memory and noticed the fries were going into the boy’s mouth faster than he could chew. “Hey, take it easy. No one’s going to take away your plate until you’re finished, okay?”

Those dark eyes looked at him again. The boy didn’t speak, but he did slow down. Justin watched him eat for a few minutes, then his own stomach rumbled and he found himself wishing Gina had brought him a burger, too.

Like magic, a plate with a Blue Creek Super Burger appeared in front of him.

Gina stood at the table, her arms crossed. “I figured watching them eat was making you hungry. Besides, something tells me you’re going to need to keep up your strength.”

Justin scowled at her, but grabbed the burger anyway.

“Does that taste good?” She turned her attention to the kid and he nodded, too busy sucking chocolate milk through a straw to reply.

“Where’s your friend?” Her voice was low as she directed the question back at Justin.

He forced down a mouthful of food. “Ladies’ room. Can you believe this? Damn, what a freaking mess—”

“Justin!” Gina cut him off, dropping her hands to the table. She leaned forward, cutting off his view of the boy. Not that he was looking at the kid with Gina’s curves practically laid out in front of him.

Geez, now was not the time for his mind to take that detour. “What?”

“Watch your language.”

Her words came out in a whisper so low that he had to read her lips to get what she was saying. “What did I say?”

She straightened and took a step back, again with the crossed arms. A toss of her head sent her curls—including that darn pink one—flying over her shoulder.

“It’s what you were going to say. You’ve got little ears here,” she whispered. “You need to be careful.”

Justin sighed. She was right. Something told him it was a position Gina Steele, egghead extraordinaire, was probably very used to.

“Okay, I get it. Can you do me a favor and check on Zoe?” he asked. “She’s a little…upset.”

Gina stared at him for a long moment, then nodded and left.

“Your mom will be right back,” Justin said.

The boy only stared at him and clutched his bear tighter. Justin grabbed his burger and nodded to the boy’s half-eaten food. The kid started munching again, but the bear stayed right on his lap.

A few minutes later, Gina came back to the table. Alone.

“What’s going—” Justin read confusion on her face. “Where’s Zoe?”

“The ladies’ room was empty.” Gina again kept her voice low as she turned away from the boy. “I checked with Ric, he’s working the front door. He didn’t see her leave. I even checked the parking lot. Nothing.”

A sucker punch hit Justin square in the gut, harder than the one delivered less than a half hour earlier when Zoe had walked back into his life.

She left? She walked away from her own son?

He stared at the boy, who kept his eyes glued to his plate.

“I think we should call Gage.”

The mention of Gina’s brother—now his brother-in-law—caused a familiar ripple of unease. At best, he and the sheriff tolerated each other. Usually from a distance.

“We need to search the place.” Justin slid to the end of the booth. “Maybe she just wanted to find a quiet spot to…I don’t know, to think, to pull herself together.”

“Ric and a few others are looking for her.” Gina put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “I’ll call my brother…just in case. You need to stay here.”

Justin nodded.

Gina left again. He eyed the food, but his appetite was gone. His wasn’t the only one. The boy had stopped eating, his gaze glued to the table. Justin knew he should say something, but his mind was a blank.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Gina was back with her brother right on her heels, but she disappeared when Gage started talking.

“So, what’s going on?” Gage said. “Who’s the little guy?”

The boy shrank into the corner of the booth, his eyes locked on the newcomer. Despite being the sheriff of Destiny for the last decade, Gage rarely wore a uniform. Fully recovered from a gunshot wound that had him in the hospital a few months ago and at just over six feet tall, he could be pretty imposing even in jeans, his trademark leather jacket and Stetson.

Justin rose from the booth. His height matched his brother-in-law’s and blocked the boy’s view. “His name is Jacoby Ellis,” he said, keeping his voice low. “And I’m told—not that I’m a hundred-percent sure—he’s my son.”

The widening of Gage’s eyes and the bracketing of his hands on his hips were his only reaction to the news.

Justin fought against mimicking Gage’s body posture and kept his hands loose at his side. “His mother showed up, introduced us and grabbed a bite to eat. The last I knew she was headed to the bathroom.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Twenty minutes. Maybe a little bit more.”

Gage nodded. “The mother’s name?”

“Zoe Ellis.”

Gina reappeared at her brother’s shoulder. “Racy’s here. She suggested we go to her office. It’s more private and this place is filling up with customers.”

Justin nodded and turned around, but Gina was already there. She grabbed Jacoby’s pillowcase and got him out of the booth. Justin and Gage followed. Racy’s golden retriever greeted them when they opened the office door.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Gina squatted next to the boy when he shrank back, bumping into Justin’s legs. “This is Jack and he’s the sweetest pup. Here, let him smell your hand.”

Jacoby stretched out his fingers. Jack proceeded to sniff them, then immediately moved in to offer a few quick licks to the boy’s face.

Justin reached for the dog’s collar, but stopped when the sound of the child’s laughter filled the air.

Followed by a gasp from Justin’s sister.

He looked up to see Racy’s gaze flying between him and Jacoby. “Sis, what’s wrong?”

Racy turned toward her desk and rummaged in one of the drawers. Justin and Gage went to her, while Gina settled the boy and the dog on the leather couch against the far wall.

“Honey, what are you looking for?” Gage asked.

Racy pulled out a manila envelope from the last drawer. “This,” she said, dumping the contents on her desk.

Photographs, black-and-white and colored, likely decades old, scalloped edges on some and rounded corners on others. She flipped through the images until she pulled out a small one.

“Thank goodness I had these stored here instead of at the house. They would’ve been lost in the fire. Here’s your proof.”

“Proof?” Justin asked.

“Gina told me about your surprise visitor and that precious little boy.” Her gaze lingered on the occupants on the couch. “As soon as you all walked in the door, I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Look at this picture.” She shoved the photograph into his hands. “That’s you. First grade.”

It was him. But it was also Jacoby. The image could’ve been of the same person. The dark hair and eyes, the square line of the jaw even at such a young age. They even wore the same colored T-shirt, red.

“Maybe you better fill us in completely,” Gage said, taking out a small notebook. “If his mother has taken off, we’ll need everything you know to try and find her.”

“I think I’ll head out now.”

Justin turned to see Gina at the door. The boy was reading a book he must’ve pulled from his pillowcase. One hand turned the pages; the other was busy scratching the neck of a very content Jack.

“No, stay.”

Gina’s elegant brows rose at his tone.

“Please,” Justin quickly added. “The kid seems—he seems at ease with you.”

Her fingers tightened on the doorknob and Justin thought she was going to leave anyway. But she gave him a quick nod and moved back to the couch.

Justin turned back to the sheriff and his sister. They both stared at him. He ignored the unspoken questions in their gazes and told them what had happened in the last hour. Then he described how he had met Zoe eight years ago.

“I didn’t believe her at first. Maybe I didn’t want to. Hell…me? A father?” Justin winced and waved the photograph in the air. “But seeing this…”

“Okay, let’s see if the boy can help us out,” Gage said.

He couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

After answering a few questions that revealed the name of his elementary school, a town in Colorado and that his mom’s car was tan and a piece of junk, Jacoby clammed up, refusing to answer any more.

“It’s not much, but I’ll start with finding out exactly where Templeton, Colorado, is.” Gage rose from where he’d knelt by the couch. He motioned for Justin and Racy to join him back at Racy’s desk. “I’m heading to the office to make an official report. Now, what are we going to do with this little guy tonight? Or the next couple of nights? It’ll probably take until Monday or Tuesday before we get anywhere.”

“Why can’t he stay with Justin?” Gina asked from across the room.

Justin turned, her question yet another sucker punch to his gut. At this rate, his insides would be black and blue. “Are you serious?”

“You are his father.”

“We don’t know that—”

Both Gage and Justin spoke at the same time.

“—officially,” Gage finished. When Gina opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand to cut her off. “Yes, I agree all the signs point in that direction, but until a test can be done we don’t know for sure. I can place a call to child services. They can find a local foster home.”

The sheriff’s words caused the pain sitting square in Justin’s gut to radiate throughout his body.

The entire room faded as the memory of his father yelling, words slurred thanks to the alcohol running through his veins, took over. He’d often threaten him, Billy Joe and Racy with horror stories of being shipped off to child services. At the time, the unknown hell he’d described sounded a lot worse than the hell they were living.

“Justin?”

Racy’s voice pulled him from the memory, in time to see the door close behind Gina. She must think he was actually going to—

He turned back to his sister and Gage when he felt a small hand, clammy and cold, against his own. He looked down. Jacoby stood next to him, squeezing his fingers, and those dark eyes stared up at him.

“He’s coming home with me,” Justin said.

The boy didn’t speak or smile, but the haunted look that filled his eyes when they had tried to get information about his mother from him faded.

“You sure?” Gage asked. “What kind of condition is the cabin in?”

“It’s a mess but livable. I’ve been staying there for the last couple of weeks.”

“Having a little boy around is totally different from being there alone,” Racy added. “Do you have enough food? What about heat? It still gets pretty chilly at night. We’ve got room at our place—”

“We’ll be fine,” Justin insisted. “The fireplace is working. And I can’t believe you’re really asking me—the best cook you’ve got—if I’ve got enough food.”

Racy smiled at that. “Okay, you’ve got me there. Gage told me you got those antique kitchen appliances working again, but—”

“No buts.” He hoped the confidence in his voice sounded real, because the words rang hollow as they rolled off his tongue. “We’ll be fine.”

An hour later, he wasn’t so sure.

He’d finished loading his truck with Gage’s help, then he and Jacoby headed out. Seeing his place through the eyes of a child who stood in the doorway clutching his meager belongings made him realize the cabin was more a construction zone-slash-bachelor pad than a home.

It had grown dark on the ride out to the lake and the only lights in the cabin were in the kitchen, the bath and one secondhand lamp sitting on the floor in the living room. He’d turned on the lamp, and a fire helped warm up the place, both in temperature and looks.

He didn’t say much to Jacoby except to repeatedly warn him away from the tools and construction materials that seemed to fascinate the boy. Of course, the kid hadn’t said two words since he’d hugged Racy’s dog goodbye at The Blue Creek.

“I’ve got to get some stuff out of the truck.” Justin stood near the open door, the dark night an alluring draw. “Just sit there until I’m done and don’t touch anything, okay?”

Jacoby looked at the folding chair that sat inches off the floor. He dropped into it, pulling his pillowcase to his feet and tucking his bear into his lap. The bag, torn and dirty, was definitely on its last leg.

Justin could relate.

What in the hell was he doing? He didn’t have any experience with kids other than being one himself. Agreeing to bring Jacoby home had been instinct, born out of his hellish childhood memories. He was flying blind here, praying he was doing the right thing.

Whatever that might be.

He stepped outside, leaving the oak-planked door open, glad for the screen door he’d installed just yesterday. The overhead lamp automatically came on, lighting up the porch that ran the length of the cabin. The night air had a bracing chill, and he inhaled deeply as he stepped onto the dirt driveway. There was still a load of wood to get out of the back of the truck, but at the moment, he just gazed up at the stars.

This morning, his biggest worry was deciding which of the bedrooms in the cabin to tackle next. This afternoon, it had been reaffirming his vow to stay far away from Gina, knowing he was the wrong guy for her despite how great it felt to have her in his arms again.

And now? Now he might be a father.

A crashing noise had Justin racing back inside. Jacoby stood at the kitchen sink, an overturned wooden crate next to him and a plastic cup on the floor.

“I was thirsty,” he said.

Surprised that the boy had finally spoken, Justin pulled in a deep breath and commanded his heart to stop its wild pounding in his chest. It wasn’t listening.

He grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and plopped down on the overturned crate. “Here.”

The boy didn’t move.

“It’s okay. You can have it.”

“I won’t finish all that.”

Justin unscrewed the lid and offered it again. “No worries. We can put the top back on.”

The boy took the bottle and drank. It was then Justin noticed the photograph clutched in his hand. “What’s that?”

His small fist, and the photo, disappeared behind his back.

“I’m not going to take it. I’m just wondering who’s.” Justin’s voice faded.

Could that image be a clue to finding Zoe? He reached into his T-shirt pocket and pulled out the photograph he’d tucked there, behind Jacoby’s birth certificate. He showed it to the boy. “See this?”

Curiosity had the boy leaning forward. “It’s me.”

Justin’s gut tightened, a reflex against the emotional punches he’d been taking all night. “No, actually that’s me. Back when I was your age.”

Jacoby slowly pulled the picture out and turned it around. “This is you, too.”

Creased down the middle, the fold split the image of a couple sitting arm in arm on a beat-up sofa. They held beers in their hands and goofy smiles on their faces. Him and Zoe. It must’ve been taken the night they met.

And the hits kept coming.

Justin swallowed hard before he spoke. “Did your mom give you that?”

The boy nodded. “She said it’s her and my daddy. She said my daddy had gone away for a long time, but soon I’d go and live with him and he’d take care of me ‘cause she can’t anymore.”

There it was.

The final blow. A solid right hook that sent him to the mat. Thank goodness he was already sitting because he doubted his knees would’ve held him upright.

She’d planned this.

Zoe had come to town purposely to leave her son with him. That meant even if by some strange twist, he wasn’t the kid’s father, he was still left holding the bag. One that was every bit as precious as the one Jacoby dragged along behind him.