Читать книгу Secret Dad - Raye Morgan - Страница 10

Three

Charlie left her cabin and started toward town. Smoke was coming out of the chimney at Margo’s place, so she was home. Charlie had a moment’s unease, of wondering what the neighbors would think about her visitor, but she brushed it away. That was old thinking, from her past. She was a different person now.

She was a little late and she walked quickly, buoyed by some sort of sparkling in her veins. She didn’t know what it was, but she had energy to burn today.

“Could it be because I’ve got a man on my couch?” she muttered to herself, then laughed aloud, making Sabrina run back and dash about her ankles to see what was so funny.

A man—a pretty common item for most women to have around. But not her. She’d avoided men for so many years now, she hardly knew how to handle one now that she had him. She’d had a man in her life once before. He’d fathered her son. For that, she would always be grateful. But he’d also made life even more miserable than it had been before he came along and she’d run as far and as fast as she could to get away from him.

Some women were not meant to have a man. She’d decided that must be the case a long time ago, and that maybe she was one of them. Her experience with marriage had been such a disaster, she knew she would have a hard time risking it again. She’d been lucky to have gotten away, lucky that no one had found her in all these years. She and her son Robbie were together, and that was all she needed. She couldn’t imagine being any happier than she was right now.

So why had she brought the man home, like some wounded puppy who needed ministering to? She wasn’t sure. She’d thought at first, just for a moment or two, that he looked familiar. But that couldn’t be. The life she’d lived before she’d moved here hadn’t included men like Denver. Still, there was something m his face—something slightly familiar and yet not. Something that made her trust him, even though he’d given her no real reason to do anything of the kind.

She knew that if she ever did pick a new man to marry, it wouldn’t be a man like Denver. If she got to that point, she would be looking for a professional man, someone solid and reassuring. Denver was too rough, too... well, dangerous was a good word for it. There was something a bit intimidating about him. She had the feeling that he would do just about anything for someone, if he cared enough.

And those scars on his body! Good grief. She shuddered, thinking about them. She’d seen enough at the hospital to know those weren’t football injuries. The man had been knifed and shot and who knew what else? At some point in his life, he had obviously been involved in something very dangerous.

And then there was that moment when he’d taken hold of her wrist and pulled her close. She’d felt so strange—as though she’d almost been waiting for him to do it. She’d seen the raw hunger in his eyes and her heart had beat so loudly, she could hardly breathe. She’d thought he would kiss her. But it didn’t happen, and she caught her breath now, thinking about it. Did she want that? Did she? Shaking her head, she pushed it away. She couldn’t let herself dwell on that. It brought up too many conflicting emotions.

And the school was just ahead, a little wood frame building nestled in a clearing rimmed with ponderosa pine. The children were just coming out and she waved at Robbie, nodded and called greetings to a few friends, then he came barreling toward her and she reached down and caught her son up in her arms. She held him tightly, smelled his hair, felt the spirit that filled him, and thanked God for him one more time. Sometimes, life was good.

“We had worms,” he told her happily.

“Worms?” She eased him to the ground and gazed at him in trepidation, hoping it wasn’t a meal he was talking about.

He nodded, his eyes sparkling. “Big ones. They wiggled.”

“Oh.” Charlie was laughing again. “They wiggled, did they?”

“Uh-huh.” He began to walk along beside her. “We watched them go into the ground and then we dug them up again.”

“Lovely.”

He scrunched up his face and looked at her from under a stray lock of hair. “Could I have a worm for a-pet? Just a little one?”

Charlie hesitated. Worms as pets. Wonderful. “I’m afraid not, honey,” she told him calmly. “Worms don’t do real well in captivity.” She winced as she saw the disappointment on his round face. “But you know what? I’ll bet we have worms living right in our yard. Later on, maybe we could dig up some dirt and see.”

“Could we?” He was happy again. “Great! When I find one I’m going to name him Cowabunga,” he called as he ran off to chase Sabrina through the trees.

Charlie smiled. Being with Robbie always made her smile. He was the joy in her life—practically the reason she lived at this point. He was the only thing she’d taken with her when she ran away. He would be with her until he was grown and then she would finally be alone. But she didn’t want to think about that. That day was a long way off—and this day was too beautiful for melancholy thoughts. Right now, her heart was light as a breeze.

Some days she picked Robbie up with her little motor scooter, carrying him home clinging to her waist as they roared over the bumps. But she liked best the days when they walked home together and he told her about what he’d learned. They were close in ways she’d never been with her own family, and that was just the way she’d planned it from the beginning. As far as she was concerned, her relationship with her son was a golden gift she would treasure and work to maintain. She would do almost anything to make sure it never got to be the way it had always been with her own mother.

For some reason, that made her think about Denver Smith, and before she could stop herself, she shivered with anticipation, then gasped at her own foolishness. “Wow,” she whispered to herself as a bird cried in the tree above her. “The man really is dangerous, isn’t he?” And that made her shiver again. She had a dangerous man in her living room and she could hardly wait to go be scared of him. What nonsense!

A giggle rose in her throat. What if her mother could see Denver, could know the way Charlie was reacting to him? She could see her mother’s strong, handsome face grimacing in disgust.

“A hooligan!” she would say disapprovingly. “We don’t invite hooligans into our home.”

“No,” Charlie said, laughing in a way she would never have laughed in front of the woman. “No, Mother. You don’t. But I do. And that is one reason why I don’t live with you any longer.”

Brave words, she thought, sobering. Too bad she’d never be able to say them to her mother’s face. Well, there was no question about it. The man was dangerous. She could see it in his eyes and in the evidence that scarred his body. You didn’t end up with a body like that playing tennis at the club. She’d never dealt with a man who’d actually been shot before.

“No more shivering,” she told herself firmly, and then her smile was back.

Robbie came skipping out of the trees and slowed to walk beside her.

“Mom, how come your eyes are sparkling?” he asked.

She looked down at him. “What?”

“Like stars.” He nodded, gazing into them.

She laughed. “Oh, come on.”

He wrinkled his tiny freckled nose, his blue eyes wise. “Do you have a surprise at home for me?” he asked carefully.

She sighed, shaking her head, delighted with him as usual. “How did you guess that?”

He shrugged. “Because of your eyes,” he said sensibly. “Because you look like a surprise.”

Laughing, she pulled him up into her arms and gave him a very loud kiss on his flushed cheek.

“Is it a rifle?” he asked hopefully.

“Robbie!” she cried, dropping him on his feet again. “No, it’s not a rifle. And it never will be, you can count on that. I don’t think you should have a rifle. And I wish you would stop asking for one all the time.”

He took her small lecture patiently, then got back to business right away. “Then what kind of surprise is it?” he asked, pulling further away so that he could skip along beside her.

“It’s not a toy surprise, either,” she warned him. “More of a people-to-people surprise.”

He thought about that for a moment, frowning then shook his head and asked, “What does that mean?”

“You just wait. You’ll see.”

His eyes widened and he started to ask something else, but he quickly thought better of it, and instead put his head down and began to walk on ahead as fast as he could, with Sabrina dancing beside him, watching for something to chase. But Robbie wasn’t interested in the forest any longer. He seemed to be intent on getting home.

Charlie shook her head, watching him. She so often worried that it wasn’t fair to try to raise him all alone, that he really needed a dad in his life. That was something she couldn’t give him. The thought of going out and trying to find a man to take over that role made her cringe. Unfortunately, she was afraid Robbie was going to have to grow up without a father around. Not an ideal situation, but the best she could do.

She hoped he would like having Denver stay for dinner. There hadn’t often been a man in their house lately. Now and then she invited Robbie’s friend Billy to come to a meal and bring his parents. She had noted the way Robbie hung on every word Billy’s father uttered, and followed him with his eyes at all times. It was obvious how much her son longed for a dad of his own. She wasn’t sure what he would make of Denver, but she was pretty sure their visitor was made from the mold every little boy liked to think of his father as being from. That was the best she could do for him, it seemed—occasional and temporary male influences in his life.

Robbie was walking faster and faster and she almost had to run to catch up to him. He pulled her by the hand and she laughed as he forced her to trot, with Sabrina dashing around them and barking. In no time at all, they were home, running up the porch steps and bursting in through the front door.

The house seemed too still and she looked around quickly, her gaze darting from the couch to the kitchen and back again. The blanket lay neatly folded on the table. The fire had just about gone out. There was no sign of him. He was gone.

Something lurched inside her but she didn’t stop to analyze why. He was gone and she was disappointed, but she wasn’t going to let it show

Robbie looked around too, puzzled. “Where is it, Mom? I can’t find the surprise.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” she told him, letting her fingertips trail along the back of the couch where Denver had been when she’d last seen him, remembering how big and rough he’d looked when she’d had him there. “I guess your surprise has sort of... disappeared.”

He was gone. The disappointment welled up in her like a thundercloud pouring over the tips of the mountain range on a summer day. She’d brought home a lost creature, tended to him, grown to rather like him, and now he was gone. That left an empty spot in her soul.

The sound of something outside caught her attention. There was a noise from out back, a thump, the sound of an ax against wood. She stopped, frowning, and suddenly she realized it was made by someone chopping firewood. Her heart leaped up but she didn’t let herself notice that. Instead, she ran to the window and looked out. He wasn’t gone after all. There he was, ax in hand, chopping wood. That thing that had lurched inside her rose again, rose and poured something warm and sweet through her body, and she grinned, feeling suddenly light as air.

“Or maybe not,” she told her son, tousling his hair as she passed him on her way outside. “Let me go see.” She stepped quickly to the back door.

There he was, swinging an ax in a very unbalanced manner, his hair shining in the sun. Throwing open the door, she ran out.

“What are you doing?” she cried out as she neared him. “Will you cut that out?”

He turned and nodded to greet her. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” he told her, setting himself and taking another swing.

“You are in no condition to be doing something like this,” she said, frowning as he staggered back from the momentum of the ax. Reaching out, she put a hand on his arm, and he didn’t pull away, but he stiffened, and she knew he didn’t want her doing that. Quickly, she pulled her hand back.

“Come on in and sit down,” she said quickly. “We’ll be eating soon.”

He was leaning against the sawhorse that held the wood in place and it was obvious he was going to have to take her suggestion, whether he wanted to or not. “I’m actually doing fine,” he protested, though he didn’t look it. “The leg is getting back to normal. Really, I’m okay.”

She frowned, not buying it. “Let’s go have dinner,” she said again.

He shifted his weight and glanced at her, stalling for time. “Dinner already?” he said. “Isn’t it a little early for that?”

“We have to eat early. I have to be at work at five.”

He looked at her as though her entire speech surprised him. “What do you do?”

She liked surprising him. She threw him a sassy grin. “I sling hash.”

The look of shock on his face astonished her, though she had to admit that the thought of working in a greasy spoon would once have sent her reeling as well. And if her mother ever found out, she would probably have her committed to a home for dangerously unbalanced young ladies.

“Actually, it’s in a very nice little restaurant in town. We serve Pacific Rim fusion food, things like mu shu pork in tortillas and Cornish game hens in Thai peanut sauce.”

He was still staring at her as though he didn’t believe a word she said. She waited for a moment, then shrugged, feeling a little wobbly herself.

“It’s not all that extraordinary,” she said with a touch of irritation. “What did you think I was, a lady of leisure or something?”

“No, I sure didn’t think that,” he said quickly. Then he frowned, seeing something behind her. “Is that your kid?” he asked.

She turned and saw Robbie at the door. The moment her gaze caught him, he slipped back into the house, and she shaded her eyes, wondering why he was acting uncharacteristically shy. “Yes, that’s him,” she said, then she gestured toward the house. “Come on,” she told him seriously. “Let’s get you fed and rested and then I’ll figure out where I’m going to put you for the night.”

That brought a quick reaction from him. Something deep in his eyes changed and he straightened, rubbing his chin with the heel of his hand. “No, listen, I’m out of here. I was just trying to split a few of your logs to try to pay you back for all you’ve done. I’ve got to get going, get up to my cabin and...”

His mind on his excuses, he made the mistake of trying to take a step toward her by putting weight on his weak leg and it deserted him entirely. He lurched and she sprang forward to break his fall. Her body caught his and her hand grasped the hard curve of his biceps, and the immediate sense of coming in contact with a man went through her as though she’d been struck by lightning.

“Here, lean on me,” she managed to get out around the catch in her breath. She knew she was quivering with a visceral reaction to his physical strength, she only hoped he didn’t notice. His body was long and hard and her own body was responding to it in a way she hadn’t felt for years—a way she hadn’t expected—a way that made her want to stop and listen to her heart beating like a captured thing in her chest.

Dangerous. The word echoed in her mind. He was danger all right, but that didn’t mean she had to give in to it.

“I don’t think so,” he was saying, pulling away from her so quickly, it was almost a recoil. “I don’t need help. I’ve got to do this on my own.”

He started toward the house and she followed slowly, trying to calm herself. This was wild. She never did things like this. But her body seemed to have a will of its own today. And she had to admit—it was pretty exhilarating.

“I’ll get out of your way,” he muttered, starting to bypass the house.

“No,” she cried, jumping forward and slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. “You come on in the house. I’m going to feed you, at least. Look at you, practically wasting away here.”

He turned his head and met her gaze and she felt as though he saw right through her, knew she’d grabbed his arm because she wanted to feel his muscles again, knew she wanted to keep him around as long as she could—just because. A flush filled her cheeks, but she didn’t care. That sparkling feeling was filling her with a sense of life she hadn’t had in a long time.

“Come on,” she urged, tugging on his arm. “Come eat.”

He came with her, but reluctantly, and he let her lead him. She knew he hated feeling weak this way, but she also had a feeling that wasn’t all there was to his hesitation. The awareness that had sparked between them earlier had come to life again when she’d broken his fall and held him for a split second, and she could tell that he felt it too, and that he wasn’t happy about it. Turning resolutely, she led the way to the house, chattering about the weather.

“Sit down,” she told him as they entered the dining room. “I’ll have the food on the table in no time.”

Denver hesitated as though he were about to argue, but the aroma of pot roast simmering wafted in from the kitchen and his resistance seemed to melt away. He lowered himself carefully to a seat at the table and she pretended not to be watching him out of the corner of her eye to make sure he made it. Turning, she glanced around the room. Robbie was nowhere to be seen and she set off to find out why.

She found him in his bedroom and took him to the bathroom to wash his hands. He came willingly enough, but he seemed worried about something.

“Mom. Who is that man?” he asked her as he soaped up, his eyes wary.

“He’s my friend,” she told him, turning off the water to hurry him along. “Do you want to come and meet him?”

Robbie frowned, taking his time, washing his hands as though it were a heavy responsibility. “Is he the surprise?” he asked, then shot a quick glance at her face.

She smiled as she turned the faucet back on for a rinse. “Yes. He’s the surprise. I thought you’d like having a man come to dinner. We don’t have men around here very often, do we?”

Robbie shook his head, thinking that over. “He’s awful big,” he said at last.

Charlie laughed. “Yes, he is, isn’t he?”

His freckled nose wrinkled. “Are you sure he likes boys?” he asked her.

“Of course.” She answered without thinking, handing him a towel. “Doesn’t everybody?”

He shook his head vehemently. “No. Mrs. Rathworth doesn’t. She always yells when I go by her house. She tells me to stay away from her yard.”

Charlie became serious suddenly, her head to the side as she gazed at him. “Have you ever gone in her yard?” she asked.

He shook his head. “But some of the fifth-graders did,” he told her as though in confidence. “They picked a bunch of her apples right off her tree.”

“Well, there. You see? There’s usually a reason when someone seems too mean. It’s usually because someone has been mean to them. You have to think about that before you get mad.”

“Okay,” he said agreeably. “Look.” He held up his hands for inspection. “All clean.”

“Clean as a whistle,” she agreed, and they left the bathroom behind.

She led him out into the dining area and introduced him to Denver, who nodded to the boy but seemed to look right through him. Robbie followed her into the kitchen rather than stay at the table with him, and she took advantage of his presence and loaded him up with things to carry back out for the dining table. With help from the microwave, she had everything steaming hot in minutes, and soon they were passing serving dishes and getting ready to eat. Charlie looked over the scene and smiled. Something felt good about it.

“Cheers,” she said, raising her glass of milk to toast the other two.

Neither of them said a word, and they raised their glasses reluctantly, but she didn’t let it spoil her mood. She basked in the glow. This was as close to a family meal as this place had ever had.

And darn it all, this was good.