Читать книгу The Daddy Verdict - Karen Rose Smith - Страница 8

“Are you ready?” Ben asked in that way he had of appraising Sierra that made her feel turned inside out.

Flustered and nervous after opening her door to him, she asked herself for the umpteenth time why she’d agreed to drive with him to Santa Fe for Camille and Miguel’s wedding. “Sure am. I just have to grab my duffel bag and gown. Come on in.”

Friendly. She’d just be friendly and polite and keep her distance. But that was difficult when excitement tingled through her from studying him in his black polo shirt and khaki slacks.

She stood aside to let him in.

As soon as he stepped into the casita’s small living room, she realized just how hard keeping her distance would be. Tall, fit and broad-shouldered, Ben seemed to take up the entire room.

“This is nice,” he remarked, assessing the space. A tan ceramic-tiled counter separated the appliances from a table for four and a hutch displaying artifacts. The house had an alarm to protect them and other treasures her aunt had gathered over the years.

“It’s been my home as much as any place has,” Sierra admitted.

“You said you lived with your aunt when you attended high school.”

Apparently he’d listened and remembered. “Yes, and since I returned to Albuquerque a few years ago.” She went to the sofa to pick up her garment bag.

“You didn’t say much about where you lived before returning here.”

Avoiding his gaze, she lifted her duffel. “We can talk about that in the car if you want to get going.”

Before she could guess what he was going to do, his hand reached out for her bag. “I’ll take that.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” she joked.

He stood very close, so close she could catch the scent of his aftershave. “I imagine you are. But if you want to lock the door, you’ll need a free hand.”

He was right and one step ahead of her.

Somehow in passing the duffel’s strap to him, their hands brushed. His skin was hot, slightly rough. She remembered exactly how his hands had felt on her skin.

When their gazes collided, neither of them breathed for a moment. But then Ben motioned to the door. “Ladies first.” His expression was unreadable as she set the alarm, then stepped outside.

After he stowed her duffel on the floor in the backseat of his SUV, he hung her gown across from his tuxedo. Sierra had already fastened her seat belt when he climbed in. He stared at her for a few seconds and didn’t start the ignition.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m surprised you don’t have more luggage.”

“We’re just going overnight.”

“Yeah, but with the wedding and all…”

What had he expected? A huge cosmetics case, a suitcase filled with alternate outfits? “I’m a traveler, remember? I’ve learned to pack light.”

“You’re one of the few women on earth who can do that.” He turned the key.

“Actually, my mother is another. That’s one handy trait she taught me.”

After he pulled out onto the street, he drove to the intersection. But at the stoplight, he glanced at her again. “You said your parents were anthropologists and you traveled with them until you came back here to live with your aunt while you were in high school.”

“That’s right.”

“You were an only child?”

“I was.”

“Then why did they let you return here to live during your most formative years? Why didn’t they want to see you go out on your first date, drive your first car, attend a prom?”

Ben might have an edge sometimes—she’d sensed a cynicism about him from the moment she’d met him—but he was much too perceptive, too. Had that talent come from perfecting interrogation skills? Or from trying to read witnesses and criminals?

“My parents are a little unusual.”

“How so?” He turned onto a main street and headed for I-25.

In the past she’d never let anyone but her aunt see how her childhood years had affected her, how lonely she’d been, how the feeling of not being wanted superseded all others. Now that she’d set foot in this conversation, she didn’t know quite how to step out of it.

Sticking to the basics, she explained, “My parents were totally engrossed in their careers.”

“Lots of parents are,” he remarked.

“I suppose so.”

Ben wasn’t going to let that be the end of it. “So how did their preoccupation with their careers affect you?”

“Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

Again he tossed her a quick look. “No, just trying to understand your background.”

“Are you going to tell me about yours? I mean, I know you’re from Minnesota, but that’s about it.”

“Are you evading my question?”

She had to remember she was dealing with a lawyer, a man who was used to getting answers. She had the feeling he wouldn’t give up until he did.

After another few moments of hesitation, she agreed, “Yes, lots of parents are engrossed in their careers. That’s true. But to explain my parents’ lives…” She hesitated again.

He waited, expecting her to go on.

She could just clam up, but if they were in this for the long haul, she should give him a hint of what her childhood had been. “You told me your work is demanding and you’re busy even nights and weekends.”

“I did.”

“Well, imagine this. Imagine that you married another A.D.A. whose dedication and work ethic was the same as yours. On top of that, imagine that you worked with her on every case, all day, every day. Then picture your wife having a baby and the two of you still wanting to work every case together and wanting to go back to the way things were before the baby was born.”

He went silent for at least a half mile until they veered off the main road onto the interstate and headed for Santa Fe. Finally, he offered, “If I imagined that scenario, then I’d also imagine a nanny raising the baby, right?”

“Mom and Dad were researchers, so I had lots of nannies.” Usually native women whom she’d come to love and respect. But she’d felt so separated from her mom and dad as they’d interviewed villagers, discussed their theories, written up their findings.

Ben’s mouth tightened. “Where were you born?”

“In France. My father was French and his mother was living then. From the accounts I’ve heard, my parents went there in my mom’s ninth month and we stayed for three months after I was born.”

“And then?”

“Then they went to Africa, then Bali, India and South America.”

“How many languages do you speak?”

“A few.”

“I’ll bet! So what happens in a child’s head when she settles in and then has to move again—someplace strange and foreign where she doesn’t even know the language—and her parents are preoccupied with their careers?”

No matter how she’d tried to be factual and not emotional, Ben had focused on the undercurrent. “I lived in books if I had access to them. When I didn’t, I learned the crafts of the people we lived with.”

“Crafts. You mean like cooking, making clay pots?”

“Basket making, weaving, dying yarn, etching, whittling. You name it, I’ve probably done it.” Definitely wanting to change the topic, she asked, “Are you close to your family?”

“‘Close’ is a relative term, but yes, I think I am. We call one another when we need something. I go home for holidays when I can.”

“The night of Camille and Miguel’s engagement party, you mentioned your dad and going ice fishing with him. What about your mom?”

The silence that invaded the car at Sierra’s question told her more than any words could that Ben’s childhood hadn’t been perfection, either. “She left when I was six.”

“Left your dad?”

“Left my dad, Nathan, Sam, me and Rapid Creek.”

She could tell this wasn’t territory Ben traveled often, either. To push or not to push. If she knew more about his background, she might understand him better, right?

“Where did she go?”

“It’s not important. She just went. Dad wiped her out of our lives. He finally told us she’d died when Nathan went to college.”

“And you didn’t know?” Sierra was absolutely shocked.

“When she left, she didn’t stay in touch.”

Although Ben was obviously trying to keep his tone neutral, she heard bitterness and she stopped asking questions. They’d both shared enough for one session.

It was so much easier to concentrate on the scenery she loved. New Mexico was absolutely her favorite place on earth. No sky seemed as blue, no clouds seemed as close, no cliffs seemed quite as awe-inspiring. From the Sandia Mountains northeast of Albuquerque to the Sangre de Cristos east of Santa Fe, from the piñon pines along the Rio Grande to the sage, coyote fences and adobes, New Mexico made her feel as if she fit here in a way she didn’t fit anywhere else. Maybe it was because her aunt lived here and her aunt had been the one loving, guiding, gentle force for her whole life. Yet her aunt wasn’t the only reason. There was something about the creative spirit here that just enveloped Sierra in loving arms.

Obviously also wanting to end their conversation for now, Ben switched on the CD player. Strings of an acoustic guitar and flute floated into the car. It was the kind of music she liked, too. Did she and Ben have common interests?

She doubted it more and more as the miles passed and he didn’t speak. He seemed to be miles away, and she suspected he wasn’t thinking about the wedding.

Sierra left Ben to his thoughts for the remainder of the drive. She refused to think beyond today. She was going to enjoy her best friend’s wedding and try to find out more about Ben. But something told her finding out more about him might lead her someplace she didn’t want to go. With him beside her in the car, it was hard to escape memories of the night they’d shared. But for now, she had to put them aside. She had to think clearly. She couldn’t let the sight of his strong hands on the steering wheel remind her of how those hands had made her feel.

She was almost relieved when they took the road to the Padilla family’s hacienda. The black, wrought-iron gates were open, welcoming them. A sprawling peach adobe house nestled against the hills while a tiered fountain in the front courtyard bubbled and streamed.

They’d almost reached the protective arch above the door when the heavy oak portal opened and Camille came running out. She embraced Sierra and then saw Ben holding Sierra’s gown and duffel. “What’s this? Did you two come together?”

Before Sierra could answer, Ben replied, “It seemed the practical thing to do.”

“Why, yes, I guess it would be practical,” Camille agreed, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity as she arched a brow at Sierra, and her black hair blew in the fall breeze.

As they all stepped inside the foyer, Ben said, “I can just drop this all in Sierra’s room. Which one is hers?”

“Upstairs, second door on the right.”

After Ben headed that way, Camille looked at her friend. “What haven’t you told me?”

Sierra felt her cheeks warm. “We’ll have to talk when you have some time.”

“I’ll make the time,” Camille assured her.

“Sure, you will. In between saying your vows, dancing your wedding dance and leaving for your honeymoon.”

“Sierra, how nice to see you again!” Camille’s mother, Maria, greeted her as she joined them. “You look beautiful, as always. But I’m going to have to steal my daughter away now. It’s time for her to get dressed.”

“Mom, I have plenty of time.”

“Not as much as you think. Sierra, once you’re dressed, come down to the master suite. That’s where Camille will be. Mrs. Padilla and I will be helping her get ready there.”

Camille rolled her eyes and murmured to Sierra, “This is a tradition of some kind.”

“Traditions are good,” Sierra tossed back with a smile, knowing she was going to begin lots of traditions for the child she carried…so many her son or daughter wouldn’t be able to count them all.

She gave Camille a hug. “Go on. Make yourself beautiful for your husband-to-be. I’ll see you in a little while.”

As Sierra wound her way through the living room to the stairway that led to the second floor, she found Ben just mounting the steps.

“I got waylaid by Miguel—last-minute instructions,” he explained.

“Anything I should know about?”

“I don’t think so. Apparently there was a glitch and the wedding arch just arrived. But it’s set up now and all the chairs are in place. He said there are enough flowers to open his own shop.”

Sierra laughed. “Camille loves flowers, especially jasmine and gardenias.”

“That’s what’s there.”

As they walked up the beautiful oak stairs, the scent of lemon oil permeated the space. Ben asked, “What’s your favorite flower?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m partial to roses, especially pale pink ones.”

“You wear the scent of roses.” He reached the landing a step behind her.

“You noticed!”

Beside her now on the second floor, he gazed into her eyes and admitted, “I noticed a lot about you, Sierra. That’s how we ended up in bed together.”

Her cheeks began to burn. Apparently Ben said exactly what was on his mind. She turned toward the second door on the right.

After she stepped over the threshold into the guest room, she appreciated the white iron bedstead, carved oak furniture, beautiful lace curtains and colorful rugs on the floor.

Ben lifted the dress. “Where do you want this?”

She took it from him, opened the closet and hung it inside. “I might have to touch it up with an iron.”

He carried her duffel bag to the bed and set it on the mattress. His gaze lingered on the bed and hers did, too.

They looked up at the same time and their eyes locked.

As if she’d stepped into a time machine, Sierra was tossed back seven weeks. The room was Ben’s room at the inn, the bed was Ben’s bed. They’d sat on the edge of it, talking, and then the talking had turned into kissing.

They’d undressed each other hungrily. They’d come together so passionately, thought had fled. Good sense had gotten buried and only desire had mattered. Although they’d been eager, Ben hadn’t rushed with her. He’d made sure she was as hot and needy as he was. And when he’d entered her, he’d blotted out the rest of the world.

But then she’d awakened, knowing he’d have regrets and so would she. So she’d left.

Not removing his gaze from hers, Ben approached her slowly.

Her mouth suddenly seemed very dry.

“When you left in the middle of the night, you knew we’d see each other again today.”

“Yes, I did.”

“How were you going to play that? How were you going to act?”

“If you hadn’t contacted me, I would have pretended that night never happened. How about you?”

“I don’t think I could have pretended it never happened. I would have asked you why you didn’t stay.”

“It was a mistake.”

“You decided that for me, too?” There was a hard edge to his voice, as if he didn’t like that idea at all.

“If it hadn’t been a mistake, you would have called.”

“Women,” Ben said, shaking his head. “You left, but I was supposed to call?”

“It really doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

“I think maybe it does. I want to know the real reason why you left. The truth, Sierra. Not just something you think I might want to hear.”

Could she tell him the truth? His turbulent gray eyes told her that she’d better or he’d never believe another thing she said. She swallowed hard. “You scared me.”

That completely shocked him. “Did I hurt you in some way?”

“No,” she quickly replied. “No, you didn’t hurt me. I guess I said that wrong. You didn’t scare me. Your intensity scared me because I responded to it. I…that was the first time for me in a long time. I didn’t think I was ready. I didn’t think I could—I’m not putting this very well. It was just very unnerving for me. I didn’t know how to deal with it so I left.”

His gray gaze was penetrating, as if he wanted to turn her inside out…see to the very bottom of her soul. Finally he admitted, “I don’t trust easily, Sierra. I’m still not sure why you came to me about the pregnancy. I’m still not sure what you want.”

She was afraid to admit what she wanted. She was afraid to admit that making love with Ben Barclay had wiped away everything that had gone before, had made her lose herself, had encouraged her to dream again.

Although she wanted to turn away, lessen the strong vibrations that shook her when she was around him, she looked right into his eyes. “I meant it when I said I don’t want anything from you. I told you because you had a right to know. What you want to do about it is your choice. If you want to walk away after today, that’s fine. I’ll raise this baby on my own.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he assured her. “Once I know this baby’s mine, I intend to be a full-fledged father.”

“You still don’t believe me?”

When he didn’t reply, she knew the answer. He’d just told her he didn’t trust easily and that was absolutely the truth.

Reaching out, he grazed her cheek with the back of his hand. “We’ll figure this out, Sierra. It will just take some time.”

Figure out how involved they were going to be in each other’s lives? Figure out if he wanted to be involved in the pregnancy? Figure out if one night could have been filled with more than desire? The reasons why she’d left that night still held. She didn’t know if she was ready for another intimate relationship, especially with a man like Ben, a man dedicated to a career that was all-important to him. She had to remember that before she took another step toward him, before she let him take a step toward her.

She backed away. “I’d better get ready.”

He nodded. “My tuxedo’s still in the car.” He crossed to the door. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

When Ben closed the door behind him, Sierra sank onto the bed. All she had to do was think about Camille and Miguel and the next few hours would be easy.

If she said that often enough, she might believe it.

Ben shrugged into his tuxedo jacket, then checked his pocket for the wedding ring. He heard the floorboards creak in the room next door. Was Sierra styling her hair? Applying makeup? Slipping into her gown? All too easily he could recall exactly what she’d looked like naked and become aroused by the picture.

Damn! How could she possibly be as innocent as she looked? Was he really supposed to believe she wanted nothing from him?

He thought of his mother leaving his father all those years ago, and his father’s bitterness and unhappiness after she left. His brothers’ sadness. His own feeling that he’d done something wrong to make her leave. Weren’t mothers supposed to love their children no matter what?

He heard the water running in Sierra’s bathroom, then it was quickly shut off. He could picture her applying lipstick to her full lips or brushing her luxurious hair.

Intentionally, he thought about Lois, the woman he’d thought he’d marry some day. She’d been beautiful in a much more sophisticated way than Sierra. She’d been a professional woman, serious about her career in public relations. He’d thought she’d understand working early, working late, working weekends. Before she’d left, before she’d told him she’d already found someone else, she’d said something he hadn’t been able to forget. “I still feel alone, even when I’m in the same room with you, Ben.”

He wasn’t sure exactly what that had meant.

Instead of focusing on a past that couldn’t be changed or Sierra, who unsettled him more than he wanted to admit, he turned his attention to another situation that had preoccupied his thoughts.

Last night after a basketball workout with the teenagers he’d befriended, he’d approached his car in the public parking lot. The hairs on the back of his neck had twitched. He always paid attention to that feeling. Although years before he’d earned a black belt in karate, his skills had gotten rusty with disuse. Last night he’d reached into his jeans pocket for his pocketknife, flipped it open and kept his hand by his side. Then he’d heard, “Hey, Mr. District Attorney.”

A man had suddenly appeared from behind a truck. Although he’d been of average height with lank brown hair and a too-large black shirt hanging over worn jeans, a memory had flickered in Ben’s brain.

“I have fifty dollars in cash and one credit card,” Ben had said reasonably, his thumb securing a firm place on the knife handle.

“I don’t want your money,” the man had declared. “I want you to lay off my brother. He’s innocent.”

“Who’s your brother?” Ben had asked to gain time.

“Charlie Levsin. If you don’t back off, something could happen to you.”

Ben had considered the death threat he’d received in August. It had come in with his mail in a plain white envelope, one sheet of paper printed on a computer. You are going to die. Although he’d received death threats before, this time his boss had suggested he leave town for a few days and he had, to help his brother Sam lay floors in his new house. There had been nothing since then.

Levsin’s trial was scheduled for December. Ben had known better than to alienate Levsin’s brother. “Threatening my life could get you in trouble.”

“There ain’t nobody here to hear me. Your word against mine. Just make sure my brother gets off.”

Ben had evidence up the kazoo against Levsin and there was no way he was going to back down. “The jury will decide whether he’s innocent or guilty.”

“Yeah, well, they’d better decide he’s innocent. I mean it, Mr. D.A. You throw that trial or you’ll be sorry.”

As quickly as the man had appeared, he’d disappeared.

If Ben had chased him, caught him and hauled him in, they could have held him for a while. But it would have just been his word against Ben’s.

Ben’s thoughts were interrupted when his phone rang. Plucking it from the dresser, he opened it. When he checked the caller ID, he was relieved to see his brother Nathan’s number.

“You almost caught me at the altar,” Ben joked, pushing away the sound of Levsin’s voice that had played in his head since last night.

It took Nathan a moment to absorb what Ben had said, then he replied, “Sorry. I forgot you were a best man again this weekend.”

“It’s okay. I have a few minutes. I was just checking to make sure I had Miguel’s ring for Camille in my pocket.”

“I remember when you handed me the ring for Sara.”

“No regrets?” Ben asked, really curious.

“Not a one. I’m a lucky man. Who would have thought I’d find another woman who could put up with me?”

Ben laughed. “I think Sara does more than put up with you.”

“You’ve come to accept her.”

“Yeah, almost like a sister. She’s a straight talker and you know I appreciate that.”

“What about Corrie? Sam mentioned he thought the two of you got along really well when you flew home to help us lay floors in his new house.”

His brother Sam was a newlywed, too. “I like Corrie. She’s not quite as open and free as Sara, but anyone who loves animals like Sam does has a good heart. She’s pretty honest about what she thinks, too.”

“Women these days are like that.”

Ben thought about Sierra…their news. He didn’t keep secrets from his brothers. Well, that wasn’t completely true. He hadn’t told them about the death threat. He wouldn’t, either. Yet that was different. “My life got a little more complicated recently.”

“Work?” Nathan asked.

“Not this time. I…uh…” He suddenly felt tongue-tied. “I found out I’m going to be a father.”

The silence told Ben that Nathan was thinking how best to respond. Finally his brother asked, “Are congratulations in order?”

“You mean, am I happy about it? I’m still trying to get used to the idea. But the more I think about it, yeah, I think I’m happy about it. You know how I love spending time with Kyle.” His nephew was one of his favorite people.

“So you’re involved with someone?”

“Not exactly.”

“You’d better explain that.”

Ben blew out a sigh. He had to admit his stupidity to his brother. “I messed up. First time ever. Remember the engagement party I told you about?”

“The one in Santa Fe, where Miguel asked you to be best man.”

“Yeah. Well, Camille’s maid of honor and I started talking. One thing led to another, and she’s pregnant.”

“You’ve been dating her since the party? You didn’t say a word.”

“No, I haven’t been dating her. After that night, she left. I just figured it was a night she didn’t want to repeat. But she turned up at my office to give me the news.”

“So she’s there with you this weekend?”

“We decided to come together. I mean, we drove together. We’re here separately. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Nathan was quiet, then replied wryly, “Something already did. You advised both me and Sam to be careful about custody issues. Is it going to be a problem for you?”

“I don’t know yet. I don’t know Sierra that well. That’s partially why I suggested we come together this weekend.”

“Does she want the baby?”

“She seems to and said she wouldn’t consider an abortion.”

“You know a good custody lawyer?”

“Sure do. I hope it’s not going to come to that. Sierra hasn’t had roots. Her parents are anthropologists and move around a lot. On one hand, she could just take off and join them anytime. On the other hand, her aunt’s here and so is her shop. Sara would love the handmade jewelry.”

“Maybe Sara will get a chance to see it. That’s actually why I called. How would you like some company for Thanksgiving?”

“What brought this on?”

“Well, you know Sara and I have applied to adopt. Something could come through at any time. Once we have another child, traveling could be more difficult. Kyle wants to see those petroglyphs you tell him about whenever you visit. So we thought this might be a good time to take a trip. How do you feel about that?”

“I’m swamped at work and I didn’t know if I could fly out for Thanksgiving. So, yeah, it would be great. Dad won’t mind?”

“Nah. He and Val will spend it with Sam and Corrie and her dad. By Thanksgiving, there will hopefully be a baby to hold.”

Corrie’s due date was November 11. But with a first baby, Ben knew anything could happen. “If you fly out for Thanksgiving, you can give me your opinion of Sierra.”

“Does my opinion matter?”

“Sure it does. I checked out Sara before you got involved.”

“Yes, I guess you did.”

“I haven’t figured out Sierra yet. She says she doesn’t want anything from me. She says she can raise this child alone. But that’s not going to happen.”

“Just be careful, Ben, especially if you want to be a dad.”

“I’ll be careful. Remember, I know the ins and outs of the law.”

A few minutes later after Ben said goodbye to his brother, he pocketed his phone. Then he went downstairs to find Miguel, eager to see Sierra walk down the aisle. Weddings seemed to bring out both the best and the worst in people since they were highly emotionally charged events. He’d be watching Sierra carefully throughout the day, to see if she was the sincere woman she seemed to be. Actions always spoke louder than words.

Then he would decide exactly what he was going to do about the custody issue.