He's Got His Daddy's Eyes Page 4

  Sarah located her sister’s phone number and took time to brew a hot cup of tea before she dialed Margaret. Surprisingly, the receiver was picked up on the third ring.

  “Yeah?”

  The male voice that barked in her ear startled Sarah. “Hello, is this the Margaret Drummond residence?”

  The phone clattered and Sarah heard the muted male voice as the man called her sister’s name.

  “Hello?”

  “Margaret, this is Sarah.”

  “Sarah! Hi, what are you—” The surprise in Margaret’s voice quickly shifted to concern. “Is it Mother? Is she worse?”

  “No,” Sarah responded quickly, reassuringly. “She’s about the same, maybe a little better, although progress is slow.” The telephone line carried Margaret’s quick, soft sigh of relief. “I’m not calling about Mother, Margaret. It’s Caitlin.”

  “What about Caitlin?” Margaret’s voice sharpened. “Have you heard from her?”

  “She’s here. She got here this afternoon. She said she hitchhiked all the way from Los Angeles.”

  “That little idiot!” Margaret said impatiently. “I knew I’d hear from her sooner or later, but it never occurred to me that she’d go all the way to Montana!”

  Sarah was speechless for a moment It wasn’t the response she’d been expecting. “Where did you think she was?” she finally asked.

  “Oh, at one of her friends’ houses. She does this every now and then, you know, just disappears for a few days when things don’t go her way here at home.”

  “You mean she’s done this before?”

  “Heavens, yes.” Margaret sounded put-upon. “She’s always been a difficult child and the older she gets, the more difficult she becomes.”

  Sarah knew she and Margaret had never been close. Not only were they separated in age by seven years, but they were further set apart by their personalities. The funloving Margaret had teased her little sister, calling her Sober Sarah, when she bothered to notice her at all. Sarah hadn’t seen her sister since Caitlin was a two-year-old; since then, their contact had been limited to infrequent phone calls when Margaret needed money. Even so, Margaret’s seeming indifference to Caitlin’s safety shocked Sarah.

  “Actually, Sarah,” Margaret continued, “I’m glad she’s with you in Montana. It’s the perfect place for her to spend the summer, and I don’t want her back in L.A. for a while. The two of us really need breathing space away from each other. I have a new man in my life and Caitlin is being more difficult than usual. She’s always been an exceptionally bright, impossible-to-control child.”

  Margaret’s voice held a cajoling note that Sarah remembered vividly. She’d heard it too many times as a child whenever Margaret wanted something.

  “Caitlin has a black eye that looks like it’s a few days old,” she said, keeping her voice neutral. “Do you know how she got it?”

  “Of course not!” Margaret answered defensively. “How would I know? She must have got it after she left L.A., probably from somebody that gave her a ride.”

  Sarah didn’t bother asking her if the new boyfriend might have hit Caitlin. Even if Margaret knew he had, she’d probably deny the truth.

  “So,” Margaret continued brightly, “will you keep Caitlin? If you can’t, then she can go to Aunt Molly’s. I’m sure she and Wes would love to have some company for the summer.”

  “She’ll stay with me,” Sarah said abruptly, disgusted with Margaret’s callous disregard for Caitlin’s feelings. “I have to go now. I’ll call you if Mother’s condition changes.”

  She didn’t wait for Margaret’s response. She returned the receiver very carefully to its cradle, when what she wanted to do was slam it down.

  Muttering to herself about the injustice of children being given to irresponsible, uncaring parents, she turned out the lights and went upstairs to bed.

  Unfortunately for Sarah, Patricia’s bridge group spent more time gossiping than they spent playing cards when they visited her at the hospital. Sarah barely had time to drop her purse and a florist’s cone of blue and white daisies and pink carnations on the windowsill the next day before Patricia launched into a speech.

  “Is it true that Josh Hightower is living in the foreman’s house at the ranch?” she demanded angrily, struggling with the words.

  Sarah’s heart sank, but with a control gained painfully over the past several years, she managed not to reveal the dismay she felt. “Yes, Mama, he is.”

  “Then what are you doing there?”

  “I can’t afford to stay in a motel indefinitely, and your house in town isn’t livable,” Sarah said patiently.

  “Then go to Wes and Molly’s,” Patricia ordered.

  “I can’t stay with them, Mama,” Sarah replied evenly. “As much as I love Uncle Wes, I’m just not comfortable living in the house with him—or any male except J.J.”

  “Hmmph,” Patricia snorted inelegantly. “I should think it would be easier to be in the same house with your uncle Wes than to be on the same property with that Hightower boy. It’s positively indecent—you might as well be living together! People are going to talk.”

  “We aren’t living together. We’re farther apart than if we lived down the block from each other in town. And no one would find anything wrong with that.”

  Patricia glared at her, her lips compressed in a thin line. “Have you told him?” she finally rapped out

  Sarah stiffened. “No, Mama, I haven’t told him.”

  “Well, thank heavens you’ve shown some sense. It’s bad enough that I have to dodge questions about when you got married and where J.J.’s father is. I don’t know what everyone would say if they knew the truth.”

  “No, Mama,” Sarah said wearily. “I don’t know what any of your friends would say if they knew the truth, either. And even more to the point, I don’t know what Josh would say.”

  Silenced by the depth of desolation in her daughter’s eyes, Patricia snapped her mouth shut on a caustic comment. She was uncharacteristically docile and cooperative for the rest of Sarah’s visit

  .

  Two days later Sarah, J.J. and Caitlin walked onto the front porch after dinner just as Josh approached.

  Sarah halted at the porch ratling while the children raced down the walkway to the gate. She’d seen Josh ride by the house several times over the past week; he’d never bothered looking her way, and she assumed the pattern would be repeated.

  J.J. and Caitlin, however, had other plans.

  “Hey, mister!” J.J.’s clear treble carried easily on the warm, early-evening air. “Hey, mister! Can we pet your dog?”

  Sarah shaded her eyes with one hand. She’d been so focused on Josh that she hadn’t really noticed the bay quarter horse he rode, nor the huge black Labrador dog that loped alongside him.

  Caitlin lifted the latch and the two children shoved open the gate and ran toward the dog and horse.

  “J.J.! Caitlin! Come back here!” Sarah left the safety of the porch and hurried down the walk to the gate.

  The big dog swung his head toward the children and barked, a deep, inquiring woof of sound, and veered away from the horse.

  Sarah’s heart lodged in her throat. The dog was so big that his huge head was level with J.J.’s face.

  “J.J.!”

  “Rum!” Josh’s deep voice growled the name, and the dog halted immediately. Still, his tail wagged steadily, his body quivering as he stretched his nose forward as far as he could toward the nearing children. “Down.”

  Rum stretched out on the ground, pink tongue lolling, brown eyes alight with interest as J.J. and Caitlin reached him. They eyed the dog with equal interest

  “Does he bite?” Caitlin asked.

  Saddle leather creaked, the bit jingling as Josh dismounted in one easy motion. “No, he doesn’t bite. You can pet him if you want.”

  Josh pretended to ignore Sarah’s tense figure, but he knew she gripped the gate and watched the children with his big dog. He damned the cur
iosity that had made him rein in and stop; for the past week he’d watched Sarah come and go with the children and waited for a glimpse of her husband. There hadn’t been one. Slowly it had occurred to him that maybe the “he” she’d referred to that first day had been her son.

  He went down on his heels next to Rum and laid a hand on his collar. Reassured, the children came closer, laughing when Rum’s tongue swiped them with friendly wetness when they ventured to pat his head.

  “Gosh, he’s sure big, mister,” J.J. said, eyeing Rum’s big paws with awe.

  “He is that,” Josh agreed, unable to suppress a small grin at the amazement in the little boy’s green eyes. He listened to the children exclaim over Rum’s impressive size while he watched J.J. Something about the little boy wasn’t quite right, and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was that nagged him. He’d only seen the kid from a distance; up close, he realized that the child was taller than he’d thought, and the lively intelligence on his face made him seem older. There was something hauntingly familiar about the boy’s thick-lashed emerald eyes and the way they crinkled at the corners when he laughed at Rum. But Josh was positive he’d never known anyone with eyes that brilliant shade of green.

  “How old is he?” Caitlin asked, stroking Rum’s deep black pelt with appreciation.

  “Only two,” Josh replied.

  “I’m older than him,” J.J. said importantly, his own small hand smoothing over Rum’s ear. “I’m four.”

  Josh went completely still. Four?

  “No kidding,” he replied, his voice nearly expressionless. “When’s your birthday?”

  “Just before Christmas.” J.J.’s eyes sparkled. “Mommy says I’m the best present she ever got.”

  Josh didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer. His glance shot from the little boy’s face to Sarah. She stood frozen, her face pale. She’d clearly heard every word they’d said, and she looked guilty as hell.

  “Can he play with us in the yard?” Caitlin asked.

  Josh tore his gaze away from Sarah and looked back at the children. They were watching him with hopeful, expectant faces.

  “Yeah,” he said rustily, and cleared his throat. “Yeah, he can go play in the yard with you.”

  He released Rum’s collar and stood. The children and dog surged to their feet, racing back through the gate, past a motionless Sarah, and disappeared around the corner of the house.

  Josh forced his body to move, but he didn’t speak until he was only a few feet from her. He stopped and stared at her. Pale but composed, she watched him, her slim body taut and still.

  “He’s four years old?”

  Sarah nodded but didn’t speak.

  Shock was giving way to incredulous acceptance, followed swiftly by a bright flame of anger.

  “And you never told me? Four years and you never told me I had a son?”

  Sarah flinched at his angry demand as if she’d taken a body. blow. She’d hoped against hope that they would never have to have this conversation, prayed that somehow God would spare her this. Hadn’t she suffered enough?

  “I’m not sure you do have a son, Joshua.”

  “What does that mean?” He bit out the words. “If he’s four years old and he was born around Christmas, then he’s mine.”

  “I’m not sure that you’re the father,” Sarah said.

  Stunned, Josh felt as if she’d hit him in the chest with a two-by-four. He could barely breathe.

  “Are you telling me that you were sleeping with someone else when we were together?” he finally managed to ask her.

  “Mommy!” J.J. raced around the corner of the house, followed by Rum and Caitlin. Unaware of the emotional drama he was interrupting, he tugged on Sarah’s arm. “Rum’s hungry. Can we give him a bone?”

  Sarah tore her gaze away from Josh’s face and the raw emotion written there. “You’ll have to ask Mr. Hightower, J.J. You mustn’t feed someone else’s pet.”

  “Can we, Mr. Hightower? Can we give him a bone?”

  “Sure,” Josh said carefully. He felt as if a crevasse had opened below his feet and he teetered on the crumbling edge.

  The children ran to the porch and disappeared into the house.

  “Josh, I—”

  “Mommy, can Rum have the roast left from dinner?” They were back, the three of them crowded into the doorway, the screen pushed open.

  Sarah sighed with frustration. “I’ll come find him something.” She turned back to Josh, lowering her voice. “I know we need to talk about this, Joshua, but I’d rather do it when the children aren’t around, especially J.J. Will you wait until I put them to bed?”

  He wanted to say no. Every cell in his body demanded that she answer his questions now, but one glance behind her at J.J., hopping from one foot to the other in the doorway, told him there was no way they could have this conversation without interruption.

  “All right. What time?”

  “Nine o’clock. They should both be asleep by then.”

  “All right. I’ll be back at nine. And you’d better be ready to talk,” he said grimly.

  Sarah watched wordlessly as he turned away from her and stalked to his horse. He never looked back at her as he swung lithely aboard and rode off toward the barn.

  She almost wished that she could have told him yes. Yes, she’dbeen having an affair with another man while they’d been together. But it was a lie.

  And the truth was worse. So much worse that she’d decided long ago that she was never going to tell him everything.

  Chapter Three

  Sarah’s hands were shaking so badly that she smeared her lipstick. Impatiently, she took a tissue and wiped her lips, carefully concentrating on holding her hand steady as she reapplied the pink color.

  The reflection in the mirror showed her a woman with pale cheeks and haunted eyes. She dusted blusher across her cheeks and brushed her lashes with mascara, then eyed herself critically in the bathroom mirror. The makeup wasn’t to impress Josh; it was for her own protection. One of the things she’d learned about herself was that makeup and clothing became a disguise that created the illusion of self-confidence and calmness. Few people were observant enough to look beyond the surface image.

  To face Josh she needed all the assistance she could get. Her hair needed only a quick brushing to restore its customary sleekness», and Sarah gave her clothes a quick, inspecting glance. She still wore the sandals», tan linen shorts and creamcolored silk T-shirt that she’d worn to the hospital that morning. Small gold hoops gleamed at her earlobes and she wore a slim wristwatch on her left wrist She glanced at the crystal face and drew a deep breath. It was five minutes to nine.

  Knuckles rapped on the front door just as she reached the bottom step of the stairs. Sarah froze and drew another steadying deep breath before crossing the entryway to pull open the door.

  Josh didn’t say anything. For one long, silent moment they stood motionless, staring at each other through the screen door before Sarah pushed it open.

  “Come in.” Sarah was already turning away as he caught the edge of the door and stepped through. “Let’s go into the kitchen,” she said.

  He followed her across the entryway and down the shadowy hall.

  “Sit down, Josh.” Aware of his broad bulk behind her, she moved quickly past the table to the counter. Her back to him, she poured coffee into two mugs and turned, only to halt abruptly. He hadn’t taken a seat at the table. He was still standing, his unreadable gaze fastened on her. He’d changed into clean jeans and shirt, his jaw freshly shaven and his black hair still shower-wet.

  She held out one of the mugs. “Coffee?”

  He took it from her and set it down on the counter with a controlled violence that sent the black liquid sloshing over the rim. “I didn’t come here for coffee, Sarah. Talk to me. Is J.J. mine or isn’t he?”

  Sarah took a deep breath, struggling to control the shaking that started deep inside and sent waves of reaction outward. Her fingers trembled wher
e they gripped the mug, but she forced herself to meet his gaze calmly.

  “I don’t know, Josh.” She saw the impatience and fury that flared in his eyes, but she kept speaking. “He might be, or he might have been fathered by another man, but even if—”

  “Who?” Josh growled.

  Sarah drew a deep breath. Anger radiated from his big body, and the air between them was thick with tension. “I’m not going to tell you, Josh.”

  “Why not? I think I have a right to know who else you were sleeping with while you were lying and telling me I was the only one.”

  The barb struck home; Sarah flinched from the pain. “I refuse to argue with you over this, Josh. What’s done is done.”

  Josh felt like hitting something. Anything. Unfortunately, the only other person in the room was Sarah, and furious though he was, she looked pale and fragile. Besides, he’d never hit a woman in his life.

  “Did you tell him that he might have given you a child?”

  The little color remaining in Sarah’s face disappeared entirely.

  “No,” she said evenly. “I never told him.”

  “So you decided that you wouldn’t tell either of us. Didn’t you think we had a right to know?”

  “No.” Her response was swift. “I didn’t.”

  Frustrated at her short, uninformative replies, Josh paced away from her, pausing at the window before turning to face her. “Why not?”

  “I never told you, Josh, because I knew very well that you had no interest at all in being a father. In fact, you hated the very idea.”

  “What? Where did you get that idea?”

  “From you,” Sarah replied promptly. “I can’t count the number of times when we were dating that you told me you were never getting married and never having children. You were absolutely adamant about your feelings.”

  “That’s not true,” Josh denied.

  “I didn’t imagine those conversations, Josh.” Sarah didn’t add that every one of them was engraved on her memory. How foolish she’d been, and how young, for she’d hoped that she would change his mind. Fate hadn’t given her the time to try.