Читать книгу Oklahoma Reunion - Tina Radcliffe - Страница 11

Ryan paced back and forth on Kait’s porch. He shivered as the cool evening breeze whipped past.

November. Thanksgiving baby.

What a fool he was—eight years the fool.

Conflicting emotions pummeled him. He was as thrilled as he was heartsick. Mostly he was plain ashamed.

Closing his eyes tightly, he recalled the details of the crayon drawing on Jenna’s wall. It was of a family holding hands and looking out at the future.

All that that little girl wants is a family.

As if it was yesterday, he remembered one of his and Kait’s last conversations so long ago. They’d discussed their plans after college—graduate program, then marriage and a family.

Ryan and Kait. Forever.

He’d kissed her tenderly beneath the soft light of this very porch before leaving her at her front door at the start of spring break.

What happened? How had it all become so convoluted?

He was a father. Jenna’s father.

The words raced round and round in his head like a wild mustang desperate for a way out. Panic gripped him, choking his throat and clutching at his gut.

What did he know about being a father? It couldn’t be nearly the same as owning a cat or a dog. If he made his beast dog Jabez neurotic, well, it scared him to think about his effect on a little girl.

He ran a hand over his pounding head and slammed his fist on the porch rail as his emotions swung wildly between despair and hysterics.

There were way too many questions and not nearly enough answers. His head ached as much as his heart.

And why had Kait kept it from him? Yeah, that was the big question. Unfamiliar rage welled up inside, threatening to erupt.

As if on cue, Kait opened the screen door and stepped onto the dimly lit porch.

“I’m sorry that took so long.” She rubbed her arms with her hands. “It’s gotten chilly. Do you want to come inside? I can make some tea or coffee. I have a fresh pumpkin loaf.”

Kait’s voice disarmed him for a moment. For all his self-righteous anger, he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t even look at her. He turned away.

“Ryan? What’s wrong?”

He tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t obey him.

“Ryan?” she asked again. This time her voice sounded almost afraid.

Silence stretched until he couldn’t hold back the question any longer. He turned from the rail as the words burst from his lips, the pain ripping him apart.

“Jenna’s my daughter, isn’t she?”

Kait’s eyes rounded and her face paled. There was another long, painful silence. She swallowed.

“Yes.”

Ryan turned back to the rail. Eyes burning, he hung his head.

“Are you going to give me a chance to explain?”

“You’ve had eight years to explain, Kait. Eight years.” He gripped the wood tightly, blinking away emotion as he stared ahead into the settling twilight.

“Oh, Ryan,” Kait whispered. Dear Lord, this wasn’t how I planned for him to find out.

She sucked in her breath and automatically moved closer, reaching out to touch his hand. The contact started a frisson of electricity that surprised her.

Ryan jerked away. Once again, his back was to her. Several times he closed and opened his fists, finally shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Does Jenna know I’m her father?”

“Yes.”

“How can she know I’m her father when I didn’t even know?”

“It was only fair to talk to Jenna before we left Philly.”

“Fair,” he muttered the word.

Her stomach in knots, Kait watched him pace.

He came to a sudden halt and faced her. “Why did you come back to Granby now?”

“My father died, and I hoped that maybe this was the right time to talk to you.”

“Just like that.”

“Yes, just like that.”

Ryan was spoiling for a fight that she didn’t intend to give him. She could afford the luxury of being calm. After all, she’d had a long time to think about this. She understood his anger—yes, he had every right to be mad.

Finally, he raised his head and met her gaze. Kait flinched at the raw pain in his eyes. Ryan shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” The accusation lingered in the air.

“It’s not like I didn’t want to tell you. The timing wasn’t in our favor.”

“Timing?” His eyes rounded in astonishment, and his tone became almost mocking. “You’re going to try to tell me this is all about timing?”

“You were out of town for spring break sophomore year, as I recall. Some legal internship your parents had arranged in D.C.”

Ryan’s jaw tightened, and the muscle in his right cheek twitched. “It was a week and a half. You couldn’t have waited for me? The father of your child?”

“My father kicked me out.” She took a deep breath. Suddenly she had no energy to defend herself. Once again, she was convicted before she began. “I was homeless. Nineteen and pregnant with nowhere to go. I was scared, and I didn’t have any options. I had to make decisions very fast.”

There was more to the story. Oh, yes, much more. But Ryan certainly wasn’t ready to hear everything tonight. She held back to protect him, and because deep down inside she doubted he’d believe her anyhow. What chance did her word have against Elizabeth Delaney Jones’s?

For several long moments, neither of them spoke.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be a good father?”

Surprised, Kait jerked back at his words. “Where did that come from? No. I hadn’t even thought that far down the road, Ryan. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I called Molly Springer, and she helped me. Molly has family in Philly. She found a place for me to stay and was there when Jenna was born.”

Again Ryan’s face became a twisted mask of anguish. His words were raw with pain. “I missed the birth of my daughter. Dear Lord, I’ve missed so much.”

Aching for him, Kait considered his words, not sure how to comfort him. Suddenly he was very quiet, his face stony. His eyes moved from her ringless hand to her face. “You were going to let someone else be Jenna’s father before giving me a chance.”

“It wasn’t … I didn’t …” Her eyes pricked with emotion. “That wasn’t how it was at all, Ryan.”

“How was it, Kait?” He blinked and looked away. “You had years to call me. Years. That’s what hurts most of all.”

How could she ever explain? Time and again she had tried to pick up the phone. With each passing day, the bridge to her past crumbled further. It was easier not to look back and to convince herself Ryan wouldn’t be waiting anyhow.

“I’m sorry, Ryan. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Kait.”

“Ryan, I—”

“No. I’m pretty sure this conversation is over.” Swallowing, he straightened and glanced at his watch. “For now. It’s late, and I’m functioning on an empty tank. I don’t want to say something we’ll both regret.”

Kait nodded.

Arms crossed, Ryan met her gaze head-on. His eyes flashed cold and dark.

She shivered. She’d never seen this side of Ryan before.

“I want to get to know Jenna. I want to get to know my daughter.”

He turned from her and walked slowly to his pickup, head bowed with the weight of his burden.

“That’s what I want, too,” Kait whispered as he drove away.

Pointing the pickup toward Tishomingo, Ryan drove. The three-and-a-half-hour trip took considerably less. It was after ten when he pulled up the long dirt-and-gravel drive and parked outside the rambling farmhouse. Twilight had long since disappeared, and a dark blanket of a country night covered everything.

The tension that held his shoulders tight and his jaw clenched finally eased. He released a deep breath and got out of the truck. Stones crunched beneath his boots as he approached the porch. The creaking of a rocking chair accompanied a chorus of cicadas.

“You know what time it is?” His grandfather’s voice reached him.

Ryan glanced at his watch. “Way past your bedtime.”

“Guess I must have been waiting up for you.” Gramps glanced over at the truck. “You still driving that old piece of tin?”

“Gets fair mileage and keeps the women away.”

Gramps laughed loud and hard.

The small porch light was enough to detail his grandfather’s rhythmic motions in the chair. As usual, Gramps wore a clean white T-shirt and pair of well-worn overalls. His remaining tufts of white hair stood straight up on a shiny scalp. Nearing eighty-four, Harlan Lukas Jones never changed. Ryan thanked God for that. The man was his rock, his sanity in a crazy world.

“Everyone okay?” Gramps asked.

“Yeah.”

The older man lifted a glass of lemonade to his lips. “There’s more in the house. Help yourself.”

“I’m good.”

Gramps looped his foot around another rocker, the twin to the one he sat in, and pulled it close. “Then have a seat.”

Weariness settled on Ryan as he eased into the chair and leaned against the smooth slats. “Nice weather for the first week of October.”

“Bit of a breeze but nice. Frost coming soon. That’ll quiet those cicadas.”

Ryan nodded.

“Good chili-cooking weather, too, but I’m guessing you didn’t come out here to discuss the weather or cooking. What’s on your mind, son? You look like you’ve gone a few rounds with the devil tonight.”

Ryan inhaled, steadying his emotions. “She’s back.”

They were silent for a while, chairs slowly moving in unison.

His grandfather gave a thoughtful shake of his head. “Time changed her?” he finally asked.

“Not really.” If anything, Kait was more of everything that tugged at his heart and soul. As a woman, the emotions she stirred in him were more powerful than ever.

“What are you feeling?”

“No different.” He paused, relieved at the admission. “The trouble is, I’m not sure if I’m still in love with her because that’s all I know or because that’s all I want to know.”

“Little of both, I imagine.” Gramps set his glass on the ground. “She married?”

“No.” Ryan glanced down.

“Your folks never cared for Kait. You know that.”

“I didn’t let that stand in the way, Gramps.”

“You’ve never gone nose to nose with your folks, either.”

“I’m not a lawyer, am I?”

“This isn’t like choosing veterinary medicine over law school, son. If it’s change you’re looking for, you’re going to have to quit straddling the fence.”

Ryan shook his head. He knew his grandfather was right. He rarely stood up to his parents. It was too much trouble. He’d rather find the road around an issue and quietly do things his own way.

“There’s more, Gramps.”

His grandfather stopped rocking.

“She brought her daughter with her.”

“How old is she?”

“Seven. Almost eight.”

“Are you trying to get up the nerve to tell me you’re that little girl’s daddy?”

Ryan blinked. “You know?”

“Not a far leap, even for an old steer like me. I always wondered when she left so suddenlike.”

“I want to do the right thing, but I have to tell you, I’m reelin’.” Ryan gripped the chair, his knuckles white. He released a breath, once again fighting the desire to hit something or break down in tears. Neither was an option.

Gramps reached out a gnarled hand and touched Ryan’s arm. His deep blue eyes searched his grandson’s. “It’ll all sort itself out, son. Anger’s not going to do anyone any good, so you may as well put it away and save it for something more deserving.”

Ryan slowly nodded and leaned back in the chair. They rocked silently for a long time, until his grandfather spoke again. “Ha.” Gramps stopped the chair and slapped his knee. “Bet this put your folks in a tizzy.”

“They don’t know yet.”

“Ooh, boy. Wish I was a fly on that wall. Why, last time something like this happened was when your daddy and momma moved up the wedding date. They ended up eloping, you know.”

Ryan’s jaw slacked with surprise.

“You know what they say about people who live in glass houses,” Gramps said. He chuckled under his breath.

Ryan shook his head. “But they act so …”

“Judgmental? Well, your daddy wasn’t always like that, and I have to believe that deep down inside he’s the same man he was when he left this farm. Your grandmother and I raised him up right with a foundation based on the good Lord.”

“And Mother?”

“Aw, don’t go believing those highfalutin ways of your mother’s. I knew her when she was just a regular girl from Granby. She comes from a long line of simple folks.” His grandfather gestured with his hands. “Why, her granny and mine were friends when their husbands were roughnecks on oil rigs.”

Ryan grinned before his thoughts sobered again. “What should I do, Gramps?”

“Darned if I know. I’m old, but that doesn’t mean I know everything.”

“I always thought you did.”

“Not me. I cheat. I turn to the good Lord when I don’t know what to do. That’s your answer, as well.”

Ryan frowned.

“Pray, son. Pray like your life depends on it. Kait coming back into your life is nothing short of a marvel. A daughter, you say? Well, that’s doubly marvelous. Don’t let your folks stand in the way this time.” Gramps pointed skyward with his thumb. “He has a plan. Up to you to figure out what it is.”

Ryan took a deep breath. Gramps was right. It was time for some serious prayer. Time to ask for forgiveness for his mistakes and trust that the Good Lord would give him the wisdom and strength he needed for tomorrow.