Читать книгу His Twin Baby Surprise - Patricia Forsythe, Patricia Forsythe - Страница 11
ОглавлениеMAUREEN THOMAS SAT in her car across the street from Reston Realty and watched the front door, trying to build up the courage to go in and talk to Lisa, the daughter she had no right to call her own.
She had returned to Reston because she’d had no choice. She’d promised her aunt Violet that she would try to make amends with her daughter. It was far too late to patch things up with her parents, or to even get answers to the questions she’d carried with her from the time she’d been old enough to wonder why her mom and dad were so different than everyone else’s parents. Why their house and farm were overrun with things no one used, discards from other people that were left to rot or rust.
Before she could go back into the rabbit hole of endless questions, she pulled her mind to the present.
To anchor herself, she stared at her hands, which were scarred and callused from every minimum-wage job she’d had since she was sixteen. They were a reminder of how hard she’d fought to stay alive after she’d bound her breasts to stop the flow of milk and left her infant daughter in her parents’ care. She’d sneaked away in the night, dodging the twisted metal hazards in the front yard and running down the lane, hitchhiking to Aunt Violet in Chicago.
The terror and despair she’d felt then paled in comparison to the abject fear she was experiencing now at the thought of facing Lisa.
Maureen’s plan had been to stay at a motel for a couple of days, get a sense of how Lisa was, then see if they could talk. That plan had been destroyed in Wichita, Kansas, when the transmission dropped out of her car and she’d had to make a roaring, rattling entrance into a nearby garage.
The repairs had taken almost all of her spare cash, so now her plans had changed. She couldn’t stay at a motel, couldn’t eat at Margie’s Kitchen. There was no money.
Besides, she didn’t want to be seen around town, at least not until she had talked to Lisa. She would stay out of sight and sleep in her car again if necessary. She’d done it last night, driving to an old barn off the highway that she’d remembered as abandoned. But, of course, things had changed in the thirty-three years since she’d been back. The place was now a prosperous-looking organic gardening operation.
She had driven on, searching for someplace to park for the night, and had ended up at Reston Lake. Posted signs said the park was closed, but she’d driven around them and parked behind a stand of trees, leaving before dawn to avoid detection.
Maureen hated that she was sneaking into her own hometown, skulking around to see her daughter, but she simply wasn’t ready to face anyone else from her past. It would take all of her courage to talk to Lisa.
The uncomfortable truth was, if she wanted to follow Aunt Violet’s last wish, she would have to ask Lisa if she could stay with her. Lisa had once had an apartment in town—she’d proudly sent pictures of her place to Aunt Violet years ago when she’d gone into real estate. Heaven knew the girl had never sent pictures of the old Thomas place. Who would want their relatives to look at photos of a landfill?
“Now she owns the office. She’s an agent and a broker,” Maureen said aloud, gazing out her car window as she experienced a flurry of pride in what her daughter had accomplished in spite of the lousy circumstances she’d been handed.
Maureen reached for the door handle, hesitating to see Lisa at work, fearing a humiliating rejection. Still, she’d been humiliated before and she’d survived. She was terrified that’s all she would ever do—simply survive.
Jerking up on the door’s stiff handle, she stepped out of her old sedan. As the door clicked shut behind her, she smoothed the front of the coat that had fit her so well a few months ago but flapped around her figure now. At least it was good quality. Nothing to be ashamed of there.
As she walked up to the glass-fronted doors, she reached for the handle just as a man’s hand grasped it.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said in the local drawl she’d longed to hear again. “Let me get that for you.”
Flustered, she looked up at the handsome dark-haired man. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t recall where she’d seen him. She stepped inside and he followed.
The moment passed as the secretary looked up and broke into a wide smile. “Why, Ben McAdams, as I live and breathe. I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“I am for now, Sandy.”
Maureen recognized the secretary, too. Her name had been Sandy Westlyn, but the nameplate on her desk said Sandy Borden. Maureen used to babysit for her and her two little brothers. She’d known the Borden family, too, but it had been so long, she couldn’t think of which one of the sons Sandy might have married.
Sandy managed to move her dazzled smile to take in Maureen’s somewhat subdued appearance and switch to being professional. “I’ll be right with you, Ben. How can I help you, ma’am?”
Maureen clenched her hands inside her coat pockets, grateful that Sandy didn’t seem to recognize her. “I’d like to see Lisa Thomas, please.”
“What a coincidence,” Ben said affably. “That’s just what I want, too.”
Maureen answered with a shaky smile, then went to a chair so she could stop the trembling in her legs. And get her bearings.
* * *
“LISA, YOU’VE GOT VISITORS.”
Sandy Borden’s voice pulled her away from the paperwork she was compiling for a new listing. She had spent an hour rereading the resort proposal, checking facts and figures. The more she read, the more excited she became at the prosperity the resort would bring to the county. She’d finally put the report away, knowing there was much work to be done before any ground-breaking could take place.
The faraway tone of her receptionist’s voice caught Lisa’s attention.
Intrigued, she closed her laptop, stood and walked to her office door. “Yes? Oh.” Her attention darted from her receptionist to the man at the front of the office.
Ben McAdams stood by the glass front door of Reston Realty. He tipped his hat and winked at Sandy. “So, how are you, beautiful? Haven’t seen you since little Derek won the roping competition at the county fair. How is he? How’s the family?”
Delighted color washed up Sandy’s face. As if she couldn’t help herself, she fluffed her hair and moistened her lips. “Oh, Ben. It’s great to see you. Everyone is fine. Little Derek is taller than you are now and he’s going to Oklahoma University in the fall.”
“Go, Sooners,” Ben said, making a fist and pumping the air. “That’s great. You must be proud of him.”
“Cliff and I both are.”
Ben tilted his head as he gave her a teasing grin. “I’m wondering, though, how he’s going to get out of the house with you two hanging on to his leg crying, ‘No, no, please don’t go.’”
Sandy laughed. “I don’t know. You’re supposed to raise kids to let them be independent, but I’m sure we’re not ready for that.”
“I’m sure you and Cliff have raised a good man. He’ll be okay.”
Lisa was so shocked to see Ben in her outer office, she could barely form words. She’d been thinking about him constantly for days, but she hadn’t contacted him about the baby because she couldn’t decide what to say—a rarity for her since she usually met problems head-on. Was it possible that her imagination had conjured him up?
Distracted, she looked around to see that someone else had come in, as well, and had taken a seat against the wall.
She glanced at the woman, then away, but her attention shot back to her, astounded.
“Huh... H-hello,” Lisa stammered.
“Hello, Lisa,” Maureen said. “Can I talk to you?”
Lisa stared at her and then at Ben, who was having a great chat with Sandy, his distinctive rumbling chuckle breaking out. That happiness would disappear the minute Lisa told him the news.
She fought a ripple of hysteria as she looked from Maureen’s solemn face to Ben’s laughing one. Maureen, who hadn’t had time for her at Aunt Violet’s funeral, wanted to talk to her now. But Lisa had to talk to Ben first. She couldn’t put it off.
“I’m...I’m so sorry. I can’t see you—at least not now. I’ve got...”
“I understand,” Maureen said, standing. “Maybe we can try again later.”
“Yes, later,” Lisa agreed, even though her excellent memory reminded her that “later” seemed to always be the time when Maureen was departing. She had to take that chance, though. When she did talk to her mother, she wanted to be able to give the conversation her full attention and she couldn’t do that until she’d dealt with Ben.
Lisa scooped her cell phone out of her pants pocket. “Do you have a phone? Can you give me your number? I’ll call you as soon as I’m free.”
Of course, there was no guarantee that Maureen would answer if she did call.
Maureen gave a nervous little smile, supplied her number and left, the door swinging silently shut behind her. She hadn’t asked for Lisa’s number.
As she tried to control her reaction to the double shock of seeing both Maureen and Ben, Lisa watched Ben charm Sandy’s socks off. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see her receptionist’s eyes suddenly turn into beating pink hearts like a love-struck cartoon character’s.
It wasn’t simply that he was handsome, with his rich, dark auburn hair, dark gray eyes, thick lashes and strong, square chin. It wasn’t only his size. He was a big man, at least six foot four, slimmed down somewhat from his days as a linebacker in the NFL, but still muscled and strong. The thing was that Ben was genuinely interested in everyone and could focus his attention on the person he was listening to as if they were the most interesting human on earth. When he listened, he leaned in from the waist, turned his head slightly and narrowed his dark gray eyes just a little, as if he wanted to block out the rest of the world and everything in it. When he smiled, deep dimples appeared, and when he laughed, he threw back his head and didn’t hold anything in.
As if all of that wasn’t enough, his voice had a rolling timbre that made everyone in any gathering stop their own conversations to turn and hear what he had to say. The Oklahoma drawl that she’d heard all around her every day of her life was somehow more enthralling when it came from him.
That Southern Gentleman Charm should be labeled as a lethal weapon.
Lisa’s heart fluttered anxiously. She’d been on the receiving end of that charm and look where that had gotten her.
Automatically she sucked in her stomach, although it was still perfectly flat, and reached over to the coat tree by her office door to snag the jacket that matched her slacks.
As she did that, the office door swung open and Calvin Swenson, the deliveryman, stopped in with a package. He recognized Ben and shook his hand, saying, “Man, it’s good to see you, Ben. You gonna be around for a while?”
“A few months, at least, Cal. I’ve got some work around here.”
“Let’s get together, go fishing. Trout are biting out on the lake and the season ends in a few weeks.”
“Let’s do that,” Ben answered. “Let’s see if Junior Fedder can join us. I’ll give you a call.”
“Yeah. Have you seen him? There was a time he couldn’t have fit in my boat, but he’s dropped some major pounds.”
“Good for him.” Ben seemed genuinely pleased. “I haven’t seen him in months, but I’ll give him a call and let you know.”
With a happy nod, Calvin left and Lisa shook her head. Everyone wanted to spend time with him. Ben charmed all living creatures. Men, women, children, dogs, cats—it didn’t matter. Everyone fell under his spell.
Finally, Ben leaned over Sandy’s desk and gave her a smile that threatened to melt her into a puddle as he said, “Hey, beautiful, it’s been great catching up with you, but I need to talk to Lisa.”
Sandy looked concerned. “Oh, I gave her your messages. Didn’t she call?”
Lisa watched as Sandy turned her head and gave her a look that suggested she had betrayed all womankind by not returning Ben’s calls.
“Nah, but it’s okay. I know she’s the busiest Realtor in six counties and you’re the best assistant, so I know she got the messages.”
Sandy, mother of three and married to a good man for twenty years, fluttered her eyelashes and fluffed her hair again. “Oh, Ben, you’re so sweet to say that.”
“I only speak the truth.”
Lisa decided it was time to step in. Steeling herself, she plastered a polite smile on her face and stepped forward as she casually fastened the three buttons down the front of her jacket. She was delighted that she had worn four-inch heels today. It put her closer to eye level with him. “Here I am, Ben. Come on into my office. What can I do for you?”
He gave Sandy another wink that made her giggle and strode into Lisa’s office. As soon as she shut the door behind him, he turned to her, swept the sides of his jacket aside to plant his hands at his waist and said, “Why have you been ducking my phone calls?”
“Oh, well...” Lisa paused, indicating that he should sit as she returned to her chair and put the width of her desk between them. “I’ve been very busy.” She tried to sound professional as she folded her suddenly damp hands on top of her desk and asked, “Were you interested in seeing another property?”
He raised an eyebrow at her as he removed the leather jacket he wore with crisp jeans and a dark blue shirt. As he sat, he said, “No, I’m interested in finding out why you won’t talk to me, why you’ve avoided every one of my calls since that night in Chicago.” He balanced his cowboy hat on his knee as he watched her face. The laid-back charm dropped away and he became laser-focused. “Can you tell me why?”
Heat flooded her features and her gaze jerked away. She really didn’t want to think about that night, but she knew she had to tell him the consequences of the time they’d spent together.
“I was worried about you,” he went on, obviously realizing she wasn’t going to answer. “I wanted to know if you’d made it home safely.”
Lisa gave a nervous laugh and held out her hands. “As you can see, I got home just fine.”
His lips twisted. “I do see that, but would it have killed you to let me know?”
“Um, well, I...I thought that...” She let her voice trail off, unable to articulate how she’d felt the next morning and for days afterward as she’d questioned her actions—the need, the abandonment of self-control—that had driven her into his arms.
He leaned forward and pitched his voice low. “Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not the love-’em-and-leave-’em type. I wouldn’t do that.”
Lisa’s eyes widened at the fierceness of his tone. She did know that. Every woman he’d dated in Reston was still his good buddy, so it was obvious he hadn’t treated any of them badly.
“I...I guess I—”
Her words stumbled to a stop. He waited, but she didn’t know what she’d been going to say except, “I don’t do things like—”
“Like what happened in Chicago?”
Ben looked at her thoughtfully, then said, “No, what you do is try to control every situation you’re in. You’ve been that way since we were kids.” He gave her a rueful smile. “Even before you broke me out of jail. That seemed to give you a sense of your own power.”
She stared at him. She’d had no idea he’d realized that about her.
He went on, “I’ve barely seen you in the past fifteen years, but I know that’s probably still true.” He paused. When she didn’t answer, he prompted her. “Isn’t it?”
Lifting her chin, she gave him a steady look. “Yes, which is why I’ve got a successful business.”
“Which is why you look a little pale.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you ever get out in the sun? Take a hike? Go fishing?”
Glancing away, she didn’t answer but felt color rushing into her face.
“That’s better,” he said approvingly. “You know, Lisa, a person can be successful and still have some fun in life. Do you ever have fun?” He gave her a sly grin. “Other than with me?”
Lisa pressed her lips together. There was absolutely no way she was going to answer that.
He waited for a second, then turned on his winning smile, the one that was so warm and convincing. “Hey, how about I take you to lunch? Have you had lunch?”
She’d barely managed to keep down her breakfast. Lunch wasn’t even on her radar yet. She didn’t have to answer, though, because her intercom buzzed.
“Sorry to interrupt, Lisa,” Sandy said, “but Mayor Morton heard that Ben’s in town and says it’s urgent that he speak to him.”
“Ben?” The mayor’s voice boomed into the room, making both Lisa and Ben jump. “You in there? I’ve been trying to call you, but I guess I had the wrong number. I need to see you, and it’ll take a while.”
Ben gave Lisa a pained look as he called out, “Coming, Mayor Morton.”
The intercom clicked off and Ben stood. “He always thinks his business is more important than anyone else’s.”
Lisa knew that was true, but in spite of her determination to tell Ben about the baby, at this moment she could have kissed Harley Morton full on the lips.
Ben gave her a direct look. “I’ll call you later,” he said. “Please answer.”
He shut the door behind him, leaving Lisa to reach for the glass of water on her desk and gulp down a long drink to try to settle her stomach. She should have known he would seek her out when they were both back in Reston. She had avoided telling Ben about the baby long enough. It was time to take action. She couldn’t have him coming here, flirting with Sandy, interrupting the routine—reminding Lisa of the night they’d shared.
She wouldn’t tell him over the phone or at her place of business, though. She would go to his house at Riverbend Ranch later and tell him. That way, she could escape when she needed to.
* * *
BEN STOOD ON the bottom rail of the cedar fence and gazed across the pasture. Delighted, he grinned at the sight of a mare and her foal running through the dried grass, their hooves kicking up chunks of dirt as they went. Tailspin, so named because of the swirl of dark red spots that circled her rump, took her colt, Prince’s Folly, from one end of the pasture to the other. At three months the colt was similarly marked, but his spots were a darker red.
Ben was fascinated by the play of muscles beneath their shiny coats, their smooth-gaited run and their tricolored manes and tails—brown to red to blond—that rippled in the wind. He didn’t know if that type of mane was rare or not. He’d have to ask Jason Littletrees about it.
It was relaxing to watch the horses run, to see the mustangs adjusting to their new home. The simple pleasure of it was something he could understand.
Lisa Thomas was something he didn’t understand at all. He’d gone to see her as soon as he’d returned to this place, gotten the herd moved in with Jason’s help and settled a few other things. It annoyed him that she wouldn’t talk to him, and he didn’t like being annoyed. He liked things settled, his relationships uncomplicated, easy. Not that he and Lisa had any kind of relationship. They didn’t even have a friendship.
He could blame Harley Morton for interrupting them today, but the truth was he wasn’t sure he could have convinced Lisa to have lunch with him. She hadn’t wanted to talk to him and she’d looked pale and distressed—really distressed—to have him in her office. He wasn’t accustomed to having that effect on a woman.
“Ben.”
His dad’s voice broke into his thoughts. Ben had almost forgotten he was there.
“Yes?”
“Are you sure about this, son?” Jim McAdams asked, grunting slightly as he pulled himself up beside Ben on the tall fence. “What is the purpose of having horses you can’t race, or train to work cattle, or train for the rodeo?”
“What are you talking about, Dad? These mustangs can do all those things and more, and have been doing it for centuries.” Ben looked at his father, who just shook his head. “They’re not big, but they’re bred for endurance and can outdistance most other breeds. I can’t believe you’ve lived your whole life in southeastern Oklahoma and you’ve never heard of the Choctaw Wild Mustangs.”
“I’ve heard of them. I just never saw any reason to own or breed them. I can’t believe Jason has talked you into starting your own herd. You don’t know much about horses.”
“I’ll learn. Besides, it’s an opportunity to help save the Oklahoma Heritage Horse.” Ben liked the idea of preserving the breed for posterity. And why not? He had the money and the resources.
Jim hooked an arm around a tall fence post and rubbed his chin. “Yeah, I guess that’s important, but it sounds expensive.”
Ben’s lips twisted ironically. “I don’t doubt it for a minute, but it’ll be worth it.”
“To each his own, I guess. I’ve given up trying to keep track of all the things you want to spend your money on.”
With a chuckle Ben said, “That’s probably a good choice.”
He watched as Jim looked around at the acreage that encompassed Riverbend Ranch, so named because the Kinnick River made a dogleg bend at the edge of the property. The grass-covered land, long since shorn of all but a few stands of trees, sloped to a stock pond then lifted to rolling hills. The acreage was big enough for the herd of thirty mustangs to run free, but the pastures were secured by solid fences. Two wooden barns were situated beside the corral, and the house stood on a rise a few hundred yards away.
Even at his most generous, the only word Ben could think of to describe it was ramshackle.
The main house had been built in the nineteen twenties, added onto several times since then and been unoccupied for many years. The floors were a patchwork of wood—some maple, some pine—and none of them flush. Most had a strip of wood at the bottom of the doorway to smoothen the transition from one room to the next, but Ben had tripped a dozen times already. He’d finally learned to walk on his heels and lift his toes when going from one room to another to minimize the danger of falling.
Most of the doors had warped in the heat and humidity of past summers so that now only a few of them would close all the way. The ones that did close were hard to open, only coming free with hard jerks and a few well-placed kicks. All the electrical and plumbing needed to be updated and the place cried for paint and wallpaper. His great-grandmother would probably have felt right at home with the ancient appliances in the kitchen.
But Ben didn’t care what the place looked like or how inconvenient it was. He’d never been a nester. Too many other things to do. Once he got the herd established, he wouldn’t be there much.
“I’d tear that house down if I were you. Build a smaller one,” Jim said. “It’s falling apart, anyway, and much too big for one person.” He gave Ben a sidelong look. “Unless you plan to have a family to fill it up.”
“Dad, you know that’s never been in my plans.” He lifted his hand and made a circular motion that encompassed the ranch. “At least I’ve got my own place in Reston so you know I’ll be around part of the year.”
Jim shook his head. “Just part of the year? Yeah, I know. Places to go, things to do. Your mother and I have long since given up any hope of being grandparents.”
“I know, Dad.” They’d had this conversation so many times Ben didn’t even feel the need to engage in it. He simply gave his stock answer. “I know it’s a disappointment to you, but that’s just the way it is.”
His father answered with a long-suffering sigh and went back to their original topic. “Who’s gonna take care of this place when you’re off on one of your projects, or chasing around the world on the next wild hare you get?”
Ben didn’t take offense. He and his dad would never see eye-to-eye. “Jason Littletrees is looking for someone.”
“He’ll find someone. The whole Littletrees family is involved with horses one way or another.”
“Yes. Hadn’t seen him in years, but we ran into each other at the Choctaw Nation Labor Day Festival in Tuskahoma last fall. He was showing some mustangs there—”
“And you thought, ‘Great! Here’s another way to burn up some money.’”
“Dad.”
Jim looked chagrined. “Sorry. Knee-jerk reaction. Well, at least Jason is trustworthy, and I guess he’ll find someone who knows these mustangs.”
“That’s the plan.”
“I was happy with registered quarter horses and, since I don’t ride anymore, it doesn’t matter.” Jim stepped down, taking a moment to steady himself against the cedar rails.
“Is your leg bothering you?” Ben asked, forgetting about his horses for a minute. He hopped down from the fence to stand beside Jim.
“Nah, no worse than usual,” Jim answered with a shrug, but he bent over to rub his left knee. “Five years since I rolled my truck on that ice patch, and it doesn’t get any better. Doesn’t matter. I can still do what I need to do. As long as I can keep working, I’m happy.”
“I know, Dad.” It saddened Ben to think of his father never taking time for a vacation, or any kind of break, but as the old man said, “To each his own.”
“By the way,” Jim said, “Harley Morton’s been trying to get in touch with you. Did he find you?”
“Yes. I talked to him today.”
“What did he want?”
Ben stifled a laugh. His dad absolutely couldn’t help himself. He had to be involved in everything, know everything. “He wants me to run a football camp this summer. Apparently he’s convinced Wolfchild Whitmire that they need to do this out at the Whitmires’ old campground.”
Jim snorted with laughter. “How many footballs do you think will go flying into their lake?”
“Probably more than the city budget can afford.”
“You gonna do it?”
“If I can fit it into my schedule.”
“Good. That’ll keep you around for a while longer. Give you some useful work to do.”
Ben only shrugged.
Jim clapped him on the shoulder. “Speaking of work, I’ve got things to do at home, son. I’ll talk to you later.” With a wave, Jim headed for his truck, then paused and glanced back. “Wild mustangs. I sure hope you know what you’re doing.” He climbed into the truck’s cab and drove away.
Ben gazed after his dad and knew that, physically, at least, he was looking at himself in forty years. But he was determined to have a different focus in his life. His dad had raised cattle, bought and sold land, operated a construction company and a gravel-mining operation, and run a few other businesses. He’d achieved his goal of financial comfort long ago but still worked nonstop.
Ben knew his mom wanted to travel, see something of the world before old age came calling. She was only sixty but saw life passing her by because Jim wouldn’t slow down long enough to have any fun. Ben had taken his mother to Europe and to Thailand. Even though she’d enjoyed the trips, she’d really wanted her husband there to share it, but Jim had insisted he had to work.
His dad was the reason Ben had long ago made the decision that work wouldn’t rule his life.
Ben’s goal was to enjoy life, to travel, meet new people and make friends all over the world, start businesses, fund projects. He’d done a good job of investing the money he’d made playing professional football. Now he considered his job to be to spend it wisely but in fun ways. He knew his reputation around his hometown was that he was something of a squanderer, but he didn’t care. It was his life and his money. Anyone who cared to look carefully could see that he spent his money to benefit others, but he wasn’t going to advertise the fact.
As he walked back to the house, he took out his phone and checked his calendar. His attention was caught by the sound of tires crunching on gravel. A dark red, sporty sedan was heading toward him. He frowned for a second as he tried to see who was driving, then grinned.
So his visit to Lisa’s office had paid off. But he was surprised she’d come out to his ranch.
He watched as Lisa pulled her car to a stop and looked up to meet his eyes. Her solemn expression, the twin of the one she’d given him earlier in her office, made him pause before he walked over to open her door and hold out his hand to help her out.
She stood, somewhat unsteadily, smoothed the short, black wool jacket she wore with matching slacks, and braced herself in the door opening. Finally she looked at him. Her lips flickered in the faintest smile. “Hello, Ben.”
“Hey, Lisa. Thanks for coming over. I would have called, headed back to your office. You didn’t need to come all the way out here.”
“It’s okay. I wanted to,” she said, stepping aside so that he could close the door behind her.
Something about her complete shift in attitude made his words stumble. “Um, yeah. I wanted to see if you were okay after your aunt’s death...and...well, you know...everything that happened.” Ben felt embarrassed heat climb his throat. “But you didn’t respond.”
“I know.” She glanced away, apparently distraught. Her face was as pale as it had been earlier and her eyes seemed sunken. “I was hoping we could start this conversation again.”
“Yes, sure, but are you okay?” he asked, reaching to take her arm.
At last she met his gaze. “Can we go inside, Ben? I have something...important to tell you.”
