Читать книгу Betting On Santa - Debra Salonen - Страница 10

CHAPTER FOUR

COLE GLANCED AT his watch. Time seemed to be crawling. He’d come to work two hours early to make up for an afternoon of wages he planned to miss, but even so, the morning just wouldn’t end.

Maybe he was tired. After leaving Annie’s, he’d worked around his place until nearly one. His mind had refused to shut off thanks to the minute-by-minute replay of his encounter with Tessa. And sleeping pills weren’t an option. He’d relied on them too much when he lived in San Antonio and had thrown out every OTC package and prescription before moving back to River Bluff. Instead of tossing restlessly until dawn, he’d turned his attention to hooking up the sink in the guest bath.

One more thing to check off the list, he thought, grabbing his tape.

He measured the placement for the next stud then reached for the precut two-by-four. He had to use his hammer to knock it into place, then he grabbed the pneumatic nail gun.

Carpentry had been his first job out of high school. On-the-job training with a framing company working on custom homes for BJM Reality. That was how he met his future wife. Big Jim McNally’s daughter, Crystal. Hot. Gorgeous. Spoiled.

But for reasons he never completely understood, she picked him and the whirlwind began. He should have known better. He knew better now.

“Yo, Cole,” Ron said, tapping Cole on the shoulder. “Your phone is ringing. Third time in ten minutes.”

Cole turned to face his boss. Ron Hayward, whose red hair, freckled nose and boyish grin had earned him constant comparisons to a certain child actor growing up, now looked more like a young Andy Griffith than Opie. He pointed to Cole’s Carhartt vest on a stack of wallboard.

Cole dropped his hammer handle-first into its holder on his tool belt and tugged on the plastic tie that kept him from losing his earplugs when they weren’t in his ears. “Sorry, boss,” he said.

Who? he wondered. Tessa? He’d left her his cell number the night before in case anything changed in Sunny’s condition.

Frowning, he picked up the phone and scrolled down to view his missed calls. Brady Carrick, NFL wide receiver turned cardsharp turned horse trainer. Luke Chisum’s number came up second. Cole was relieved to have his friend, career army, back and out of harm’s way. The last number belonged to Blake Smith, his brother-in-law. Three of the five Wild Bunch brethren all calling within fifteen minutes of each other?

“What the hell could be so important?” he muttered, hitting Blake’s number first.

“A kid, Cole? You have a kid?”

Cole’s expletive made all of his fellow workers stop what they were doing and look at him. Muttering, he walked down the plank ramp to the ground. “She promised to keep that between us.”

Blake laughed. “Your sister is a reporter, Cole. It’s in her blood. And, for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure she hasn’t told your mother.”

But she would. Eventually. Cole swore again. The problem with living in a small town was nobody respected your boundaries.

“So, you called to give me a hard time about this?”

“No, actually. I just did that for fun. I called because I heard something I knew would interest you. It’s about Jake. Turns out you’re not the only one with a secret.”

“This particular secret isn’t mine. At least, I don’t think so. Although Mom would point out that this is the season for immaculate conceptions.”

His brother-in-law roared. “Well, until we learn otherwise, can I call him Cole Jr.?”

“Tell me why you called or I’m hanging up.”

“Spoilsport. Okay. You know Jake’s been low-key about what he’s been doing since he left town, right?”

Yeah. So low-key he’d never even found time to drop by and say, “How y’all doing?” “You’re not going to tell me you found out he’s been in jail the whole time, are you?”

“Nope. Just the opposite. I bumped into a guy at a meeting yesterday who said he knew Jake from his dealings with a West Coast company called TellMell.com. I checked on the Internet last night and sure enough, Jake’s name is at the top of the masthead of one of the hottest stocks on the market.”

“You’re shittin’ me. Why wouldn’t he say something?”

“Ask him. I called the company this morning figuring there might be more than one Jake Chandler in San Diego, and the receptionist said Mr. Chandler was on an extended leave of absence. Apparently, he’s taking care of personal business in his old hometown in Texas.”

Cole couldn’t believe it. And he was pissed.

A voice in the distance called Blake’s name.

“I gotta run. Big meeting. Talk to you later. Let me know what Jake has to say. If he’s not strapped for cash then why the hell won’t he fix up the bar? The game just doesn’t feel the same at someone’s house.” He paused. “Have you got a table yet?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Work fast. The game is Wednesday.”

They said goodbye and hung up. Cole stood for a moment trying to digest the news. Jake. Rich. Successful. The freakin’ Harley he was riding should have been their first clue, Cole thought, disgusted.

Was he upset because his former best friend didn’t bother telling him he’d beat the odds and come out on top? Damn right. But considering the way Jake left town—under a cloud of suspicion, accused of setting a mysterious fire—he supposed he couldn’t blame his friend for not being in a hurry to talk about his life.

Still, they’d shared a lot back then. Apparently not so much anymore.

“Everything okay?” Ron asked when Cole went back inside.

“Yeah. Just some of the guys checking to see if I was still hosting the poker game next week.”

“Right,” Ron said. “Bet that means you’d like the table delivered ASAP. How ’bout after work?”

Ron’s wife was getting a new dining room set for the holidays and she’d offered to give Cole her old one. “Can’t today. I’m filling in for Ray Hardy at the North Pole tonight, and I have to run to town first. Do you mind my taking off after lunch?”

“Sure. No problem. Wanna do it tomorrow?”

Saturday. He’d planned to get up early and try hanging a door in the bathroom. “Perfect.”

“I’ll even deliver it, if you’re sure I get to play.”

Cole cringed inwardly but kept a smile on his face. He liked Ron. He was an okay boss but a lousy poker player. The last time he’d joined the game, he’d walked away the big winner. From foolish bets spurred on by too much alcohol…on hands that should have gone bust. His poker pals didn’t suffer fools gladly, but sometimes this was the price you paid having an open game in a small town. “Absolutely.”

“So, now that you’re getting into this Santa gig, you’re gonna be looking to find a nice girl and have some kids of your own, huh? My wife’s cousin is available. Not bad. Got some extra junk in her trunk, if you get my drift, but she can cook.”

Cole called upon his Realtor-speak to distract Ron and end the conversation. He wasn’t looking for a new wife. He wasn’t in the market for a family. If a child suddenly landed in his life, he’d deal with that. But at the moment he had his hands full just taking care of himself and his dog, a one-bark wonder who was afraid of his own shadow, but did a whole-body wag when Cole pulled into the driveway. He made a mental note to be sure Pooch had food and water before heading into SA. “AMELIA, IT’S SO GOOD to see you. You look wonderful.”

The young woman threw open the door of the small, white, box-shaped home.

“Tessa,” she exclaimed. “What a lovely surprise. Come in.”

From the outside, the house appeared identical to the other five homes grouped around an open common area where a wooden swing set and bright plastic slide shared space with a dozen or so trees no taller than Tessa.

“I hated to drop in without calling first, but…”

“No phone. I know. The price we pay to live apart,” Amelia said, ushering Tessa into the living room. Two curious little faces peeked around the cased opening leading to the kitchen.

Tessa shifted Joey on her hip and looked at the young woman who had been Sunny’s closest friend in high school. Amelia looked older. Matronly almost. Her drab brown linen skirt reached midcalf and was topped by a bulky knit sweater that hid any hint of her figure. Angled across her torso, an African batik-print cloth held an infant, barely visible near her breast.

“You have a new baby,” Tessa exclaimed.

“A week old today. I wrote Sunny. Didn’t she tell you?”

Clearly Amelia hadn’t heard. “Amelia, Sunny’s been in an accident.”

Amelia let out a small cry. “Is she okay?”

Tessa sat down on the worn, brown-and-gold plaid couch and set Joey on her lap. Hugging him lightly, she said, “Sunny flew to Texas last week and her rental car went off the road. It flipped several times and, although she was wearing her seat belt, she still suffered serious head trauma. She’s in a coma at the University Hospital in San Antonio.”

“Oh, dear heaven, no.”

At their mother’s cry, two young children, probably three and five, rushed into the room. Joey pushed her arms away to stand up. He hadn’t known many playmates in Oregon but wasn’t shy as a rule. Amelia collected herself and within minutes of introducing the children, Hosaih and Remata, the three were playing in the far corner of the room around a plastic box filled with toys and books.

“What’s the baby’s name?”

“Bayal…. He came early. Our midwife was afraid he wouldn’t make it. She wanted us to go to the hospital, but we put our faith in his life force, and he elected to stay with us.”

Amelia moved aside a bit of cloth so Tessa could see the sleeping child’s face. “He’s beautiful. I’m so happy for you all. Is your husband here? Sunny said he’s a very nice man.”

Amelia smiled. “He is. We’re happy. I wanted Sunny to like it here, but I guess what’s right for one person isn’t necessarily good for another. She was bored and frustrated almost immediately.”

“I’m trying to put together all the pieces of what happened while she was in Texas. She wasn’t herself when she came back. Less open. Secretive.”

“Sunny?” Amelia exclaimed. “You’re kidding.”

Her expression grew thoughtful then she motioned for Tessa to follow her into the adjoining kitchen. With a quick look at Joey, who was tentatively adding a block to the pile the other children were stacking, Tessa followed.

“Your son looks more like Sunny than you,” Amelia said, putting a kettle of water on the stove.

“That’s probably because he is Sunny’s.”

The kettle crashed on the burner. “He is? Sunny had a baby?”

Tessa watched Amelia do the math in her head. Her eyes opened wide. “She got pregnant while she was in Texas.”

A statement, not a question.

“Who’s the father?”

“That’s partly why I’m here. Sunny wasn’t happy in Oregon. At first, Mom and I thought she was suffering from postpartum depression, but the longer it went on, we finally figured out that she was pining for the man she loved back here. We tried to get her to talk about him, but she’d never tell us his name.”

“Oh, dear.”

Tessa sat down at the table. How much to confess? Do I tell her I’m to blame for what happened? “I…urged her to come back and confront Joey’s father. I told her it wasn’t fair to Joey to go through life not knowing.”

Amelia filled a plate with cookies stacked on a cooling rack—the delicious scent Tessa had smelled but couldn’t quite place. Amelia set them in front of her. “Of course you did. You’re the only one who could really understand what that not knowing was like. I remember.”

“I wasted so much time, so many day dreams creating my real father.” Someone who wasn’t a dissipated, drug-addict musician. “I couldn’t stand the idea of Joey having to go through the same thing.”

A hissing sound pulled Amelia back to the stove. Moments later she returned with two cups of hot water. Each contained an unbleached muslin bag filled with fragrant herbs. “So…you’re wondering if I can shed any light on this mystery man.”

Tessa nodded. “I have Sunny’s diary, but it hasn’t been a lot of help. You know how… convoluted she could make things.”

Amelia chuckled softly. “Always. I once asked her why she didn’t write things down in order as they happened, and she said, ‘Where’s the fun in that? If I ever look back at my life, I don’t want it to read like some boring textbook.’”

Tessa had heard that before, too. A creative trait Sunny had inherited from her father, Zebulon Barnes. Poet, musician, troubadour, troubled human being. A sweet, ineffectual man who gave up on his dreams way too easily and took his family down with him.

“Do you have any idea what happened to Sunny after she left here?” she asked.

Amelia was silent a moment. “She went to San Antonio with Cole Lawry. He was the Realtor handling the purchase of a piece of land for us. He said he could get her a job answering phones at his office. He was a nice man. I didn’t think he was trying to…I guess they say ‘put the make’ on Sunny, but you know how beautiful she is. Men can’t help themselves.”

Something in her tone made Tessa wonder if Amelia’s husband had fallen for Sunny’s charms. That could explain why Amelia hadn’t known about Joey. Her sister might have been embarrassed to return any correspondence.

“I met Cole Lawry last night,” she said. “He seemed genuinely upset about her accident. He admitted that he and Sunny were friends, but when I asked him to take the paternity test, he said he had to think about it.”

“Cole? He was our go-to guy. Never pussyfooted around with our land deal. I wonder what happened to make him change?

The baby made a mewling sound and Amelia adjusted the tie to give him access to her breast. She smiled beatifically as the baby nursed. “I guess I shouldn’t think too badly of him until we know the truth. He went out of his way to help the Spirit of Harmony families buy the adjoining farm. We never would’ve been able to do it without him.”

“He said he’s not a real estate agent anymore. I gather he’s divorced.”

“That’s unfortunate. I hope Sunny didn’t have anything to do with that. I mean…since I introduced them and all.” Her hand popped up to cover her mouth and her cheeks turned apple red. “I shouldn’t have said that. The poor girl is fighting for her life and I’m thinking the worst. Just because she wasn’t happy here doesn’t mean she wasn’t a good person.”

Their conversation ended when Amelia’s husband returned, hungry and obviously not pleased that a hot lunch wasn’t waiting for him on the table. Although Amelia invited her and Joey to join them, Tessa declined. “We need to get back to check on Mom and Sunny.”

“This is one of those rare times when I hate not having a phone. Will you let me know what happens? I’d like to help any way I can. If you need someone to watch Joey for a few days, he’d be very welcome here.”

Tessa was touched. “If the prognosis changes for the worst, I might take you up on that. Mom can’t spend the whole day with Sunny then watch Joey while I take a shift. She’s just too drained. Thanks for the offer.”

She and Joey left a few minutes later, and as she drove back to the city, she thought about Cole. Who was he? Santa? Nice-guy Realtor? Good Samaritan? Or someone very skilled at playing whatever role was handed him?

He’d told her he wanted to see Sunny today. If he showed up, she might be able to draw a more reliable conclusion about the real Cole Lawry.