Plain Promise (8 page)

She motioned the horse into action with a gentle flick of the reins

Monica was about two hours from Lancaster County. After three days of driving, potty stops, food breaks, and unfamiliar hotels, she was exhausted. It would have been a ten-hour drive if she had been traveling alone, but with Tyler, that was impossible. Her restless five-year-old was only good for about two hours in the car, and even that was a struggle. She was hoping they could make it to the place she knew Kade was staying without another delay.

In her wildest dreams, she couldn’t imagine what would bring Kade all the way to the heart of Amish Dutch country in the winter. Kade hated the cold.

She glanced over her shoulder at Tyler, who had dozed off, and noticed how much he looked like his father.

Monica knew she’d made a mistake by not agreeing to joint custody of Tyler. Turns out, it had backfired on her. She never realized how much work it would be raising Tyler, and it had gotten harder and harder each year. How nice it would have been for Kade to actually keep Tyler for days or weeks at a time in Los Angeles. Instead, Kade barely saw his son and wouldn’t even keep him overnight when he did visit. Now, Kade had managed to go six months without seeing him.

But if she hadn’t fought hard to keep Tyler, the money wouldn’t have been enough to sustain her way of life—a life that Kade had introduced her to. Until now. Her new fiancé had enough money for both of them, and it was Kade’s turn to be a parent. She was tired and deserved this opportunity. Her fiancé was kind, handsome, wealthy, and all the things she had thought Kade was when she married him.

Leaving Tyler with Kade would be a high price to pay for her happiness. She loved her son. But she was only twenty-seven years old. She had her whole life to live, and she planned to follow her own dreams—dreams Kade never encouraged. Plus, there would be theater, shopping, nights on the town—all the things she’d missed since Tyler was born.

Monica needed this time to pursue her interest in interior design. Kade had wanted her to stay at home and take care of Tyler, forgoing her own dreams while he pursued his. Well, now it was her turn. Her opportunity. And she was going to take it.

It would be hard on Tyler to leave his school, but Kade would be able to enroll him in another school. Probably even a better school. And Kade would be able to provide Tyler with opportunities Monica couldn’t, even with the money Kade gave her.

She twisted her head over her shoulder again. “I love you, Tyler,” she whispered, suddenly wondering if she could go through with it

Kade paid the guy for replacing his tires and huffed out a “Thanks.”

The man did a good job and was careful with Kade’s car. It wasn’t
him
causing Kade’s exasperation. Kade was frustrated with the backward ways of the Amish, one redhead in particular. Not that he’d been looking forward to changing his tires in the snow—which would have probably taken him three times as long as the tire guy—he was mostly hoping for a little company following his few days of solitude. He thought the ride in the country might do him good.
Wait till next time
she
needs a ride.

Who was he kidding? Kade knew he’d help the Amish woman with anything she needed. There was something about her that portrayed both vulnerability and strength. And he wasn’t sure which characteristic was more prominent. He smiled, remembering the way she shoved him after she hit her head, deciding strength prevailed. Strange folks, the Amish. You’d have thought Kade was making a pass at her the way she acted.

Kade decided to take advantage of the somewhat warmer weather. Not
that
much warmer, but bearable. He zipped up his jacket and took a seat in one of the rockers on the front porch. Later, he would venture out to keep from getting cabin fever. He knew the towns of Bird-in-Hand and Intercourse were nearby. Maybe he’d do a little sightseeing.

Perhaps Val had been right about coming here. The place had a peacefulness about it that he certainly didn’t have in L.A. or any of his other frequented retreats. Almost spiritual.

But Kade resisted the idea. He’d stopped reaching out to God three years ago. He had prayed that all the doctors were wrong about his son, but they weren’t. Then Monica had left with Tyler, and Kade slowly shut himself off from communication with God. His parents had raised him in a nondenominational Christian church, and for most of his growing-up years, the Lord was an important part of Kade’s life. But it was hard to trust this God he didn’t know anymore, or understand.

And Tyler
. His only son.

Why?
Why would God allow a child to be born into this world who has zero hope for a productive life?

And why was Monica coming here?
If that’s even true.

He’d no sooner had the thought when a car turned into the driveway.

5

THE BLACK CAR DOOR SWUNG OPEN, AND A MATCHING black, spike-heeled boot emerged and landed hard on the packed snow. Kade watched Monica twist toward the backseat, her head topped with short, blonde locks, like he remembered. He watched her lips moving, and his heart raced with long pent-up emotions bubbling to the surface. Anger. Resentment. Regret. Kade knew these sentiments stemmed from his own behavior, as well as Monica’s.

Kade saw a crown of light-brown hair bobbing in the backseat.
Tyler
.

He wanted to run to his son, embrace him, and beg the boy to forgive him for his absence. But he was immobilized with fear of the unknown. How much had Tyler changed in the last six months? Kade knew from his past visits with Tyler that his son’s ability to reason and understand was one-dimensional at best. Had things gotten worse?
Maybe better.

He knew he should move. Walk toward the car. Anything.

Monica pulled herself to a standing position and rested her elbows on the car door. “Hello, Kade.”

She was as lovely as ever, but his heart didn’t skip any beats.

All that they’d had—gone. Too many bitter arguments, too much time gone by. What could she possibly be doing here, so far from home? Kade could think of only one thing. She’s finally come for a divorce.

“Don’t you want to come see your son?” She closed the door and folded her arms across her chest.

Monica was already opening the back door by the time Kade hit the second porch step. He headed across the snow, his heart filled with trepidation, his head swirling with questions. He stared at the back of her black leather jacket while she unbuckled Tyler’s seat belt.

Kade swallowed hard. Then inhaled the crisp, cool air, blew it out slowly, and watched it cloud the space in front of him. He recalled the photo of Tyler that he kept in his wallet and wondered again how much his son might have changed. In the picture, it was as if Tyler was looking intently at something, but yet at nothing. A blank stare.

Kade warmed his hands in his pockets. And waited. His heart continued to thump at an unhealthy rate.

Monica lifted Tyler from the seat and placed him on the snow in front of her. He was dressed in blue jeans and a red coat, and he was toting a metal lunch box with Spider-Man etched on the front.

Tyler smiled, and a warmth filled Kade’s insides. He remembered the first time Tyler smiled when he was a baby and when his son had taken his first step.

“Hello.” Kade leaned down and put his hands on his knees.

Tyler didn’t answer. He was taking in his surroundings.

“Can we please go in?” Monica’s tone was familiar, laced with attitude. “I’ve had to go to the bathroom for the last twenty miles, and it’s cold out here.”

“Monica, what are you doing here?” Kade couldn’t take his gaze off of Tyler, whose eyes were all over the place—glancing toward the barn, then the main farmhouse, and back to Kade. Then he’d start all over again.

“Can we talk about it inside?” Monica reached for Tyler’s hand. “Tyler, inside.”

“Tyler, inside,” Tyler repeated.

Kade loved the innocent sound of Tyler’s voice, even though Tyler didn’t talk much. The testing began six months prior to his second birthday. Six months after Tyler’s second birthday, Monica had left. His family gone.

“Sure,” Kade said. He motioned them toward the cottage. “I can’t imagine what brought you all the way to Lancaster County.” He shook his head and followed behind them.

Monica didn’t turn around. “Well, I can’t imagine what brought you all the way out here either. You hate the cold.”

He decided not to bother with an answer. “The bathroom is that way.” Kade pointed to his right.

“Tyler, I’ll be right back. You sit here and play.” Monica eased Tyler to a spot in front of the fireplace. Tyler opened his lunch box and dumped colorful plastic letters all over the tan carpet—the same kind of letters Kade remembered having as a child.

“Whatcha got there?” Kade squatted down on the floor beside Tyler.

Tyler looked at him. Well, not
at
him. At Kade’s shirt. Kade glanced down at the word
Nike
printed across the front of his sweatshirt. Tyler was homed in on the word and seemed mesmerized by it. “Nike,” Kade said softly.

“Nike,” Tyler repeated. Then Tyler turned his attention back to his letters and located an
N
, then an
I
,
K
, and finally an
E
. He placed them in order, and without looking at Kade, said the word again.

Monica entered the room. Kade stood up and turned to face her, excitement in his tone. “He can spell. When did he learn to spell?”

She started to say something on impulse, Kade could tell. But she stopped herself. “During the last six months.”

Kade chose to ignore the dig and turned back toward Tyler. “Can he read too?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “But Kade, he doesn’t know what he’s spelling or reading. I mean, he can’t comprehend it.”

She walked toward the couch, sat down, and crossed her legs. Monica had great legs, but her tight blue jeans didn’t have any effect on him.

Kade followed her to the couch, but he didn’t sit down. She still hadn’t explained the reason for the visit.

“But he
does
read?” Kade knew his tone was filled with hopefulness. Maybe the doctors had been wrong on some level.

Monica rolled her green eyes. “Yes. He reads. He picks up books all the time, and sometimes he reads aloud. But he has no idea what any of it means.”

“Are you sure?” Kade felt his hope slipping.

Monica nodded, then said, “Guess you’re wondering why we’re here?”

Kade arched his brows and waited. It seemed like a rhetorical question.

“Well,” she went on, “I’m going to get married, Kade.” She paused, as if waiting for a response.

Maybe it should have stung. But Kade didn’t feel much of anything.

“But first I need you to sign on the dotted line. I’m sure this doesn’t come as a shock to you.”

She reached into a big, black bag and pulled out a hefty stack of legal papers bound by a clasp at the top. “Feel free to read through them, but it’s a replica of the papers you drew up a while back. A copy had already landed on my attorney’s desk when you decided not to follow through with the divorce.” She crinkled her forehead. “I never understood why you didn’t go through with it. Anyway, the sooner you sign them and get them in the mail, the sooner I can get married, settled, and come back for Tyler.”

What?
Panic engulfed Kade.
Surely not.

“I couldn’t wait three months for you to get home to Los Angeles, so I packed up as much as I could for Tyler and brought it with me. It’s time for you to be a father.” Her scalding eyes challenged him to a duel. Well, it was about to be on.

“What?” It was all Kade could muster up.

“Don’t look at me like that. I gave up my life to take care of Tyler while you were off building skyscrapers. It’s your turn for a while.”

Kade narrowed his eyes and inched toward her, towering over her on the couch. “Those skyscrapers provided you with a very nice lifestyle.” He glanced over his shoulder at Tyler and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I don’t know what you’re thinking. You can’t leave him here. I mean, I love my son, but—”

“Love him? You don’t even know him!” Monica didn’t bother to keep her voice down. The familiarity of her sharp, shrill tone sent a chill up his spine. “I’m going, Kade. And that’s all there is to it.” She bolted from the couch and headed toward the front door. She turned around as she reached for the knob. “So, you can either help me with his things, or I’ll get it all myself.”