Good Guys Love Dogs (22 page)

stairs. Her door slammed. Colby
flinched. She groped for

the chair behind her and sat down,
feeling shel -shocked.

How had this happened? All these
years, she'd kept the

truth from Lena, not wanting to hurt
her. And now,

because of one stupid letter she
should have thrown away

long ago. . . .

Why hadn't she? But she knew why.

She'd kept it as a reminder to
herself that she'd done

the right thing. That Doug made his
choice, and he was

the one who would come out the
loser.

She now understood Lena's rebellion,
her anger. She'd

been keeping this inside, letting it
build until the wal

between them had become so high that
they might never get

past it.

How did she explain this to Lena?
Tell her that Doug

wanted her to terminate the
pregnancy? That he'd had no

understanding of Colby's refusal to
do so? She couldn't.

She wouldn't. Right now, she feared
what that might do to

her daughter more than any
resentment Lena felt for her.

She sat there until al the sunlight
disappeared from the

room, torn between the need to go to
Lena and the fear that

she wouldn't be able to find the
right words to say. Finally,

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unable to avoid it any longer, she
got up and climbed the

stairs to Lena's room, feeling as if
her feet were weighted

with lead.

She knocked at the door. “Lena?
No answer. She

turned the knob, surprised to find
it unlocked.

Lena sat on the side of the bed,
staring out the window

that looked onto their backyard.
Colby went over and sat

down beside her, close but not
touching. “Baby, we need

to talk, she said, unconsciously
reverting to the

endearment Lena recently demanded
she stop using.

“What's there to
talk about?

“For starters,
the fact that I love you more than life

itself and the last thing I ever
wanted to do was hurt you.

“Why did you tel
me my father was dead, then? He's

not, is he?

Colby looked down at her hands and
shook her head.

“No, he isn't. At
least not that I know of.

Fresh tears gathered in Lena's eyes.
She swiped at

them. “Al these
years I've wondered what he would have

been like, if he would have been the
kind of father I'd have

wanted to take to parents' day. .
.if I looked like him.

The lump in Colby's throat
thickened. How she wished

that he had been. How she would have
liked for him to

deserve this child's grief over not
knowing him. But he
didn't

deserve it. Not once had he ever cal
ed to see whether they

had a boy or a girl. Not once in al
these years had he ever

tried to contact them. Lena deserved
better than that. So

much better.

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INGLATH COOPER

“Honey, your
father and I were so young. He. . .he

wasn't ready for that kind of
responsibility. I wish things

had been different, but. . . .

Lena jumped up from the bed, cutting
her off and

turning to stare at her with angry
eyes. “Why didn't you just

tell me that? That the two of you
broke up? At least I

would have had the option of seeing
him.

“Lena, it's not
that simple.

“Will you find
him for me? she asked, her eyes

defiant.

“Oh, Lena. Colby
didn't know what to say. When

she'd heard years ago that Doug had
married, the news

hadn't bothered her in the least.
Whatever love she'd

thought she held in her heart for
him died the day he'd

renounced any obligation to their
unborn child. But for

Lena's sake, she feared opening that
can of worms. It was

already done, though, and she
couldn't close it again. “Is

that what you real y want?

“Yes, Lena said,
her expression set.

In that moment, Colby realized that
Lena wanted to

hurt her. To pay her back for
keeping the truth from her.

And she had found the most effective
way of doing it.

With a sigh of resignation, she
said, “Then I'l do whatever

I can to find him.

Sleep proved a futile effort that
night. Colby lay awake

thinking about what calling Doug
would mean, dreading it

more than she had ever imagined she
would. She had no

idea whether he still lived in
Philadelphia, but she would

start there.

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Up before the sun rose, she sat at
the kitchen table

drinking coffee until almost eight
o'clock when she picked

up the phone and called Phoebe. She
needed to talk to

someone. She didn't want to call her
parents. This would

upset them too much.

Phoebe's hel o sounded cheerful
enough that Colby

knew she hadn't gotten her out of
bed. She told her, in as

few words as possible, what had
happened last night.

“Oh, Colby,
Phoebe said when she finished. “That's

what's been wrong with her, then?

“Yes, she said,
miserable.

“So are you going
to call the slime bucket?

“I don't have a
choice.

“She'd resent you
forever if you didn't.

“How'd I turn out
to be the bad guy in this? That's

what I want to know.

“Give her a
chance to judge him. You'll come out

smelling like a rose. Trust me.

She hoped Phoebe was right. She
would never forgive

herself if this permanently marred
her relationship with

Lena.

She waited until nine o'clock and
then dialed

information.

“Directory
assistance. What city, please?

“Philadelphia.
Douglas Jamison.

“I have a Douglas
A. and two Douglas C. Jamisons.

Colby asked for the first Douglas C,
since she had no

way of knowing which was the right
one. She punched in

the number. After three rings, a
woman answered.

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INGLATH COOPER

“May I speak to
Doug Jamison, please? Colby asked.

A pause of silence, and then the
woman said, “My

husband is no longer alive.

“Oh. I'm sorry,
Colby said. “I have the wrong

number. She hung up, a knot in her
stomach. The woman

sounded too old to be Doug's wife.
Maybe that had been

his parents' home, and his father
had died.

Colby tried information again and
asked for the

second Douglas C.

Before she lost her courage, she
picked up the phone

and dialed the number. It rang
twice, and then she heard

his voice for the first time in more
than sixteen years. She

couldn't say anything for a moment,
frozen with too many

emotions to identify.

“Hel o? Is anyone
there? he asked, irritation marking

the words.

“It's Colby,
Doug, she said final y.

Silence, and then the click of a
door closing.

His voice sounded lower when he
said, “Colby. Where

are you?

“I'm at home. In
Keeling Creek.

“Oh. He paused.
“You're the last person I expected

to hear from.

“Believe me, she
said, “this isn't a social call.

“What is it,
then? he asked warily.

“It's about our
daughter. . .she wants to see you.

Blunt, but what point was there in
beating around the bush?

“What do you
mean? The words held an edge, as if

he were being backed into a corner.

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“I had a girl,
Doug. I never told her the truth about you.

She found out recently, though, and
she's understandably

upset.

“What did you tel
her?

“What difference
does it make? You weren't a part of

our lives. She couldn't keep the
accusation from her voice.

He was silent a moment, then said,
“You can't just

spring this on me and expect me
to—

“Cal ing you is
the last thing I ever wanted to do. But

Lena is hurting over this. She's
confused and—

“I have a family,
Colby.

On some level, she had known that he
would. But

hearing him say it somehow brought
back a pain that she'd

thought long ago put away. He had
been nineteen when

Lena was born. He hadn't wanted
marriage and a family. It

hurt somehow to think that he
eventual y chose them with

another woman, other children. For
the first time since her

confrontation with Lena, she thought
she truly understood

how her daughter must feel. “Are
you saying you don't want

to see her?

“I don't know, he
said, the words sounding as if

they'd been issued through clenched
teeth. Just for her

own satisfaction, she pictured him
fat and sweating.

“Look, Doug, I'm
not asking anything of you, she

said, her voice cool. “But
I wil not allow you to hurt her. If

you don't want to see her, just say
so, and I'l think of

something to tell her.

“This is too
sudden, Colby.

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INGLATH COOPER

Colby laughed. She couldn't help it.
It was such a

ridiculous statement, and typical of
the selfish person he was.

“You're right.
Sixteen years is a bit sudden. As soon as the

words were out, she wanted to take
them back. She didn't

want him to think that she'd ever
spent a moment yearning

for him.

“I made my
decision about this before she was born,

he said, his voice ice-cold and
impersonal to the point that

she wondered if she'd ever known
him. “You know what

my choice was. I didn't want this
child. I wanted you to

have an abortion. You chose not to
do that. I hardly think

it's fair for you to call me up out
of the blue and—

“Fair? she
interrupted, anger scalding through her.

How dare he sit there, blithely
talking about an abortion as

if Lena didn't exist? As if he had
any idea what he had

missed in not knowing her as his
child? How had she ever

imagined herself in love with him?
“I'm sorry to see that

you haven't changed one bit, Doug.
Give me a cal when

you've had enough time to think
about this. Personal y, I

don't think you deserve to know our
daughter. I won't tel

her we talked until I hear from you.
She gave him her

number and hung up without saying
goodbye.

She tore off the piece of paper on
which she'd scribbled

his number and shoved it in her
pocket. To her disgust, her

hand shook, and she hated herself
for letting him get to her

that way.

Fourteen different emotions
assaulted her at once, anger

and protectiveness at the top of the
list. A few minutes spent

talking to him brought back al the
old insecurities with which

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their relationship had left her.
Doug Jamison would be a

disappointment to his daughter. She
knew that. How would

Lena handle his rejection? Be
anything but devastated?

Colby glanced at her watch. The
eleven o'clock church

service would be starting in an hour
and a half. But she didn't

feel like going this morning. She
needed to pul herself

together. Deciding to let Lena sleep
on, Colby wrote her a

note, then grabbed her keys and left
the house.

211

32

t had become a ritual for Ian to
drive into town for

Ithe Sunday-morning paper. He
arrived at Cutter's

Grocery around eight-thirty. Located
in the middle of

town, Maude Cutter and her husband,
Harvey, ran the place.

Since he'd first set foot in the
store, he'd been unable to

resist Mrs. Cutter's homemade
cinnamon rolls, which she

made fresh every day. The
tantalizing aroma predictably

tempted him as he stepped inside and
poured himself a

cup of coffee from the pot on the
counter. He nodded at

Dil ard and Wil ard Nolen, who were
sitting on the bench by

the door swapping sections of the
paper.

“Morning, Mr.
McKinley, Mrs. Cutter said from behind

the counter. “Looks
like we're gonna have a nice week.

“No rain in the
forecast? he asked. This, too, was part

of the ritual—Mrs.
Cutter's weekly weather bulletin.

“Doesn't look
like it. We may get a few clouds by

Wednesday, but they don't talk like
it'l turn to rain.

“Good. I've got
some work to do on the barn. Then

there's al that hay that needs
cutting, he said, some inner

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GOOD GUYS LOVE DOGS

devil urging him on. Dillard and
Willard both peered over

their papers at him, nodding in
approval. Obviously, they

hadn't heard about his tractor
mishap or they would have

known he wouldn't be going anywhere
near one. He smiled

to himself and picked up the paper.
“I'll take some of those

cinnamon rolls, too. You've ruined
my wil power, Mrs.

Cutter.

The older woman beamed. “It's
nice to know I can

still tempt a young looker like you.

Ian chuckled and paid her, enjoying
their banter. He