Her Secret, His Son Page 7

  “You know,” he said finally, “maybe we should have done this before.”

  “The last person you’ve wanted to be with during the past few years is your mother,” Sara teased. Tim grimaced. “Yeah, well, I’ve got an image to maintain, you know.”

  She laughed, relieved he hadn’t asked further revealing questions, because she didn’t feel comfortable telling all just yet, because frankly she didn’t know how to tell him his father was now living in their town. That particular truth would have to come out eventually, just not yet.

  The few hours Sara and Tim spent together that morning were the beginning of subtle changes in their lives. Sara noticed Tim didn’t go out as much, and he even began studying more. He also made himself available at the gas station several afternoons a week. Sara silently rejoiced in this new side to her son even as she pragmatically didn’t expect it to last forever. Tim was too much a free spirit for that.

  She also couldn’t get away from thoughts of Jess no matter how hard she tried. A day didn’t go by when someone didn’t make a comment about him to her.

  “Such a nice young man,” Lila Thornton enthused when she picked up her car after having it tuned up. “Do you know he spent well over an hour with Daddy yesterday?” It was a well-known fact that Lila’s father was an irascible old man who would try the patience of the most revered saint. Sara hid her smile at the thought of Jess listening to Toby Thornton’s stories about the war. The elderly man must have been overjoyed to have a new listener.

  Caroline Morgan told Sara how much Reverend Larkin complimented her on her pecan pie and ate two pieces.

  Leona Matthews told her how that new preacher carried her groceries home one afternoon when she discovered her car had a dead battery.

  Doesn’t he ever screw up?” Jackson grumbled, one afternoon.

  “Who?” Sara asked absently sitting back in her chair, the two front legs tilted upward.

  “That new preacher, that’s who. You always said he was a regular hellion. The way people talk you’d think he was buckin’ for a first-class room in heaven.”

  “That’s something you won’t have to worry about,” she murmured, hiding her smile. “I’m sure your room will be situated a great deal farther south.”

  The elderly man glared at her. “You’re really full of it lately, and I bet he’s got somethin’ to do with it.”

  “I do have to admit Tim’s improved nature has also improved mine,” Sara told him serenely.

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Jackson grumbled. “I saw your face sorta light up when that preacher came in for gas yesterday. You acted like some high-school girl around the football captain.” He snorted with disgust.

  Sara hated herself for the blush that crept into her cheeks. “That preacher has a name,” she reminded him.

  “I ain’t so feeble I forget someone’s name.” He turned back to his work.

  That was true, she agreed privately. Jackson’s selective memory was probably the best in the county, if not the state. “I’m going up to the house to fix lunch,” she announced, standing up and walking up the brick-lined path. “No beans,” he shouted after her. “They give me indigestion.”

  “As if I’d forget.”

  TIM FINALLY DECIDED he was in love for the first time in his life.

  “Forget it, man,” Syd, one of his friends, advised during lunch one day after seeing Tim stare at Lora for the past fifteen minutes instead of wolfing down his lunch as usual. “She’s old lady Masterson’s granddaughter, and you know what a snob she is.”

  “Lora’s not a snob,” he argued, not taking his eyes off the smiling girl talking animatedly to a group of girls.

  “As long as we peasants stay in our section she isn’t. If we step out of line though, Chad would take us apart. He’s the kind of guy she wants, not someone like us.”

  “Don’t be more of an ass than you are, Syd,” he said sharply, grabbing his books as he stood up and walked away, making sure to casually saunter past Lora’s table. He happily noticed that she looked up and flashed that million-dollar smile at him before turning back to her friends. For the rest of the day Tim floated through his classes and dreamed of a brown-haired girl with a beautiful smile. He was grinning idiotically when he finally arrived home more than two hours late.

  “Where have you been?” Sara demanded, greeting him at the door. “Tim, you promised you’d be home right after school to help us at the station.” She spun around staring after him as he waltzed past her without saying a word. “Timothy Murdock, I’m talking to you!”

  “Yeah.” He sounded distracted.

  “What in the world?” Sara watched her son walk into the kitchen, open the refrigerator door, pick up the milk carton, stare at it for a full minute and return it to the refrigerator.

  “I’d say the boy is in love,” Jackson observed, walking up behind her.

  Sara turned her head, looking the picture of dismay. “He’s too young!” she wailed, still remembering how he looked in diapers.

  Jackson stared at her long and hard. “How old were you when you first fell in love?”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, ‘oh.’ I’d say some pretty Ii’I thing has caught his eye and turned his brain to pure oatmeal. He’s not going to be worth a damn around here until he gets it out of his system.”

  “He wasn’t all that much help before then,” Sara muttered, then raised her voice. “Tim, I want to speak to you now.”

  The boy stood in the doorway of the kitchen. “You wanted me, Mom?”

  “No, I was practically screaming your name so I wouldn’t forget it,” she said sarcastically. “You said you would help out this afternoon, but you never showed up or called.” She stopped, realizing he hadn’t heard one word.

  “Gee, Mom, for a woman your-age you’ve got a pretty good figure,” Tim replied dreamily.

  “Thanks, I think.” Sara looked uncertain at this even more abrupt switch in her son’s personality.

  “Who’s the girl?” Jackson boomed.

  “Lora Summers.” He made her name sound like a prayer.

  “Cora Masterson’s granddaughter?” Jackson clarified.

  “Yeah.”

  Sara felt her nerves tighten in reaction. She was already fearing the worst.

  “Is she in any of your classes?”

  Tim nodded. “History and English. She gets straight A’s. She’s got a really pretty smile.”

  “And prune-face Cora for a grandmother,” Jackson muttered, subsiding when Sara glared at him.

  “Can I trust you to go down to the station and do some work?” Sara asked her son.

  He nodded, ambling out of the house.

  “I better get out there, too, otherwise he just might decide to give someone regular gas when they need unleaded and still not be able to figure out why the nozzle won’t fit,” Jackson said, leaving Sara to sort out her fears.

  While fixing dinner, she thought over this new turn in Tim’s life.

  Hadn’t he learned in the past that some people refused to allow him to forget his lack of a father? Cora Masterson was one of them. As leader of the town’s old guard, the elderly woman felt it was her right to dictate the social mores of the town. So what if those mores had changed over the past forty years Cora certainly hadn’t.

  Sara clenched her jaw. She would do anything to spare Tim further pain, and she was afraid he was heading for a major fall if he decided to push his luck with Lora Summers, since it was well known Cora ruled her daughter and son-in-law with the same iron hand she had used with her husband. Sara was surprised they had decided to come back to town.

  At first Sara thought seriously about having a long talk with Tim in hopes of dissuading him from further thoughts of Lora, but she knew better. She knew that was the best way to push him away. Besides, the last thing she wanted to do was alienate him after the slow but steady progress they’d made recently.

  This was one of those times Sara wished desperately for
a father Tim could talk to. Of course, then the problem would be entirely different. For one brief, crazy moment she thought about sending Tim over to Jess. Surely by now Jess realized how narrow-minded a certain faction of the town’s population was.

  She chopped the vegetables with a vengeance. She was tired of keeping secrets and wondering how long it would be before it all blew up in their faces. Perhaps she should sell the station and move to another town before it was too late. There was only one problem with that kind of thinking. It was already too late.

  WITH EACH PASSING DAY, Sara’s frayed nerves unraveled a bit more. She watched Tim moon around the house, and for the first time his appetite was just about nonexistent.

  What didn’t help Sara’s peace of mind were Albert’s almost daily visits to the station with one excuse after another-his tires needed air, he thought his radiator was leaking. Each time he asked Sara out, and each time she flatly refused him.

  “The day’s gonna come when you won’t be so choosy, Sara, and you’ll be glad to have a man interested in you,” he told her one afternoon when he’d stopped by to fill his gas tank.

  “I’ll worry about that when a real man comes along,” she threw over her shoulder as she walked away.

  Albert’s face turned a bright red. “You bitch,” he snarled, walking swiftly after her and grabbing her shoulders, roughly spinning her around.

  “Let me go!” she ordered, pulling away.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” Albert shouted, jabbing her in the chest with his forefinger. “You think just anyone wants you now, baby? You’re nothing in town … nothing. You stay here year after year hoping the old biddies will accept you. Well, forget it, lady.” He made it sound like a dirty word. “If you want to get laid, you better settle for what you can get and be happy with it.”

  Sara’s gaze was pure ice. “Get in your truck and get out of here now. And don’t ever come back. If you need gas, you can just travel the twenty miles to Charlotte. Your business is no longer welcome here.”

  “Don’t you act so high and mighty with me,” he yelled, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her so hard her head flopped back and forth until she was convinced her neck would snap under the strain. “I know you for what you really are.”

  Sara swallowed a scream at his rough handling and struggled to free herself. As she stepped back she lost her balance and fell backward. Just as her head hit the concrete and her vision faded to black, she saw Tim attack the older man and heard her son’s roar of outrage before she knew nothing at all.

  Chapter Five

  Sara had never experienced a hangover before, but she was convinced this was what one would feel like. Her entire head ached, even her eyelids hurt as she slowly lifted them to scan her surroundings. She knew she was lying down on an unfamiliar bed and she had a horrible headache, but that didn’t tell her what was wrong or where she was. The first thing she saw in the darkened room was a shadowy figure seated in a chair next to her bed.

  “Jess,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes barely open because it hurt too much. What kind of party had she attended last night?

  “I’m here, Sara.” His voice was soft, not the strong tones she was used to.

  “Had the funniest dream,” she laughed, then groaned as pain shot through her head. “What did I do to deserve this? Anyway, I dreamed we had a son, and we had split up, and when I saw you again you were a minister.” Her lips curved in a faint smile. “Crazy, huh?” She groped with her hand until he grasped it between his two.

  There was a moment of silence before he replied in a quiet voice. “Yeah, crazy. It was probably due to the bump on your head.”

  “My head hurts,” Sara whimpered, moving her head slowly in order to see him better.

  “Go back to sleep,” he advised. “The next time you wake up you’ll feel much better.”

  “Don’t go ‘way.” Her voice trailed off. “I want to tell you about the rest of my dream.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Promise.”

  “Promise.” Jess sat back in the chair, his leg propped against his knee, his fingertips rubbing his chin reflectively and listening to Sara’s breathing deepen as she fell back into a drug-induced sleep.

  For a moment he had also drifted back in time just as Sara had. He knew it was her head injury that had scrambled her thoughts, but it didn’t stop him from recalling those days … and nights.

  Sara always had a smile on her face, and without sounding egotistical, Jess knew she had loved him deeply back then, but he also knew he hadn’t been ready for such a heavy-duty commitment as marriage would have required. It saddened him that she had borne their child alone and suffered the malice of the townspeople. Yet would things have been any better if he had known about her pregnancy and they had done the right thing by marrying? True, Tim would have carried his name, and he would have had a father, but there was no guarantee they would have stayed married. Would Tim have fared better with what could have been a part-time father or no father at all? Those were questions he had no answers to. He rubbed her limp hand between his two, more for his own comfort than hers.

  To his dying day Jess wouldn’t forget the sight that greeted him when he drove past the gas station. He pulled in when he saw Albert touching Sara lewdly, her stepping away and falling and an enraged Tim attacking the older man. For a split second Jess’s once hair-trigger temper flared up, and he visualized his own hands around Albert’s neck. Instead of giving in to old temptations, he stopped his truck and jumped out, pulling Tim off Albert while a loudly swearing Jackson cradled Sara in his arms.

  Jess called on all his powers of persuasion with Albert, who was trying to stem the blood that streamed from his nose and threatening to have Tim put in jail. Only Jess’s quietly spoken advice that if Tim was jailed, the true reason for the accident would come out silenced him. Then Tim turned on Jess informing him in no uncertain terms that he didn’t need any help from a wimpy do-gooder like him. Jess was very tempted to take the boy out back and show him how much a wimp he was, but tamped down the idea before he gave in to a temper that used to be every bit as fierce as Tim’s was.

  Jess only hoped Tim learned to control the infamous Larkin temper before it got him into deep trouble.

  WHEN SARA AGAIN OPENED her eyes she slowly turned her head and found Tess sitting in the chair next to her bed and Tim pacing the floor by the window.

  “Tess?” Sara’s voice cracked. She ran her tongue over her dry lips.

  “Sara, honey, how are you?” Tess leaned forward and poured a glass of water for her. “Do you want me to call the nurse?”

  “No, don’t call anyone. I know I hit my head, so why does every bone in my body hurt, too?” She managed a feeble smile for her son as he hung over the bed staring at her as if afraid she’d die at any moment. Her expression sobered when she noted the bruise on his cheekbone. “Oh, Tim.”

  “Don’t worry about me, he got it much worse,” he assured her in a hard voice reminiscent of his father’s.

  “Tim, this is no time to upset your mother,” Tess spoke up sharply. “Why don’t you go out and get a Coke or something? If you need some money, go ahead and get some out of my purse.” She leaned forward, supporting Sara’s shoulders as she sipped the cool water.

  “Thanks.” Sara collapsed against the pillows. She waited until Tim had left the room, closing the door behind him. “Tess, do you know if Jess was here? I’m not sure if I dreamed his presence or not, but I could have sworn I woke up before and found him here. I must have been doped up or something, because I thought I was back in college and we were still together.”

  “He did stay with you for a little while last night,” she admitted.

  Sara drew in a deep breath. “Was anyone else here? I don’t know what I said, if I said anything at all, but if the wrong person overheard…” Her voice trailed off.

  “He was alone,” Tess assured her. “When Tim and I came in about a half hour ago, Jess was already gone.
Tim and Jess rode over here in the ambulance with you yesterday, and I came as soon as Jackson called and told me what happened.” Her eyes were dark with concern. “We’ve all been worried sick about you.”

  Sara closed her eyes, fighting her headache in vain. “Tess, what exactly happened to me?”

  “Honey, I don’t know the whole story. All Tim said while you were being treated was that he was going to kill Albert for hurting you.”

  Sara nodded, then winced as the pain swept through her head again. “Oh, yes,” she groaned. “Damn! Can’t a person get some aspirin around here? Or have hospitals stopped treating sick people?”

  Tess looked guilty as she leaned over to press the call button for the nurse. “We were only allowed to stay in here as long as we promised to call as soon as you woke up.”

  And Tess was properly chastised when the nurse arrived and ascertained Sara had been awake longer than a minute or so. Tess was shooed outside when the doctor arrived to examine Sara more thoroughly and pronounced her fit enough to go home the next day as long as her headache was gone by then and there were no further complications.

  Tess walked out to the lobby and found Tim sitting morosely in a corner chair. “The doctor’s taking a look at her now,” she explained, sitting on a nearby couch. “He’ll come out to tell us his diagnosis when he’s finished.”

  “I should have killed him,” he muttered, a dark scowl marring his face. “Don’t ever say anything like that!” Tess ordered, leaning forward. “You weren’t there, Tess. You didn’t see what that bastard did to her,” he argued. “He–-he touched her!” His face reddened with adolescent embarrassment as he recalled exactly where Albert touched Sara.

  Tess could easily guess the rest. “Albert was always a jerk. Besides, you left him with a few painful reminders that I’m sure were difficult for him to explain to his wife. Leave it at that, Tim. Don’t hurt your mother more by getting into additional trouble.” She smiled. “She needs you a great deal, Tim. You have to be there for her.”

  Tim studied the woman who had been like a second mother to him and had always been willing to listen when he needed to talk something out that he couldn’t talk over with his mother. He’d made use of Tess’s more than willing ear several times.