Swept Away (15 page)

“What if I can’t marry you?”

The worries he left on shore returned. He gave her a quizzical look, and she avoided his eyes, looking out the window. Attempting to sound light-hearted, he said, “Don’t tell me you’re already married.”

“Married?” she repeated the question with a shake of her head. “Oh, no. It’s not that.”

“Then what?” He asked, though he wasn’t at all sure he wanted to know. The steering wheel suddenly felt slick with sweat.

She took a deep breath. “What if I told you I’m not who I say I am?”

Anxiety punched him in the gut. What if she was Maddy, and she did run away to escape danger? Murray said there were people who wanted to harm her. Oh God, if she was—no, he couldn’t think that way. He’d lose everything.  He took a slow gulp and reminded himself not to be paranoid. “Listen, no matter what, we’ll work it out. I know you—Josie McCoy. She’s the one I love. Who you were before doesn’t really matter.”

“Seriously? What if I’m wanted for murder or something?”

Shaking his head, he said, “No, you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not. But still, I tell you I’m not who I say I am, and you don’t care?”

He gripped the wheel as a wave of nausea washed over him. She could not be Maddy.

Could she?

He tried to shake off the thought, but it lingered. Slowly, a new thought took hold. It didn’t matter, especially if he was right about the baby. Looking across at her worried, pinched face, he knew this couldn’t be her burden. Murray was right, she had enough worries in her life. “Listen, whatever it is you’re running from, is exactly that—something
you
are running
from
. I don’t know what happened, and frankly, I don’t give a damn what it was. You’ve told me it hurts you to talk about it, so we won’t.”

She bit her lower lip as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Reaching for her hand, he held it. “Don’t cry, Josie.”

“I need to be honest…”

He didn’t want to hear any confessions. As far as he was concerned, she was Josie. Always would be unless she told him differently, and he wasn’t planning to encourage that. “You need to stop worrying. Hell, I don’t give a shit if we have to skip the country, we’re in this together. And enough with the guilt. You don’t have to tell me a damn thing. We might have a baby to think about. That’s what matters.”

Nodding slowly, a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. She let out a long, relieved sigh and squeezed his hand tighter.  “I love you,” she said.

“And I’m crazy as hell over you.”

Once they were back on the ferry, they headed straight for the air-conditioned cabin. Tucker tried to talk her into using the test in the ferry bathroom, but she refused. So they waited. When they got back to the cottage, Josie grabbed the bag and headed straight to the bathroom.

Tucker hovered by the door.

Josie emerged wide-eyed and shaky as she handed Tucker the stick.

Tucker’s heart raced. Suddenly all hope for a happy future relied on this little piece of plastic. Staring into the window, one pink line appeared quickly, then another slowly. “Two lines mean what?”

“Positive,” Josie said. Moving closer, she tried to look over his arm. “Is it positive?”

He passed her the stick. Her hands shook as she stared at the two pink lines.

“You’re pregnant, Josie.”

“Oh my.” Josie walked to the couch then sat there, staring at the stick. Tucker kneeled in front of her. “This is a good thing. We’ll make this work, I swear.”

“I can’t even go to the doctor. They’ll want ID, won’t they? I don’t have any—and no way to get one. When I left home, I took nothing. And I can’t go back.”

Tucker swallowed. His heart raced as his curiosity battled rational thought. Ask her no questions, she’ll need not tell you lies. Taking a calming breath, he caressed the sides of her knees. “I have a friend, Santos, you know the guy dating Ash’s widow?”

Josie nodded.

“He’s a police officer. He has to know how to get ID. I’ll call him.”

“Even if I can get an ID— me? A mom? I don’t know how to be mom.”

“You’ll be a great mom. You’re thoughtful and gentle.”

“My mother was horrible.”

“You’re not her. You’ll be the best.”

Leaning forward, she gave him a look, like she was studying him. “You’re honestly excited about this?”

Placing a hand behind her head, he kissed her. “Zero regrets. Are you all right with it?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m just…it feels unreal. I never dreamed I’d be this happy. I’d accepted life sort of sucked, and I've made the best of it. And now? A baby. A tiny Tucker baby.”

“We’ll call a doctor and get you in. If we pay cash, there should be no questions.”

Nodding, she placed her hand over his. “I never thought I’d have a normal life. A baby…”

He planted kisses on her bare shoulder. “I’m going to marry you.”

“Are you proposing?” She laughed.

“No, I’m telling you.”

“Neanderthal.”

He laughed as he tugged loose the string that held her bikini top around her neck. She grabbed at the pink material. “No time, Mr. Boone. We’re expected at Hetty’s for dinner.”

“Fine, I suppose I’ll call Santos after we get back from Hetty’s.”

Josie looked at him. “If I go over and stall dinner, could you call him now?”

Tucker ran a lazy finger down her arm. “If you can stall…”

“She’ll expect one of us to be on time. And I have just enough time for a quick shower. That’s it.”

“Hmm, you could stay dirty. I like you dirty.”

Laughing, she stood. “You’re so bad. Go. Make your call and meet me at Hetty’s.”

“I’ll wait here until you’re done showering. Then I’ll walk you over.”

She shook her head, looking at him like he had totally lost his mind. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard. Why in the world?”

“Humor me. Blame PTSD or shell shock, or whatever, but anytime I feel this damn happy, I get nervous.”

Her head tipped toward her shoulder. “Ah Tucker, it’s going to be all right. I’ll be out in a second.”

He left her at Hetty’s door. She suddenly seemed reluctant to leave him. He felt bad for putting the idea of tragedy in her head, but how else could he explain sticking to her like Murray asked?  Holding her loosely, with his hands on her hips, he kissed her. “Everything is going to be great. We’re going to be a family.”

Her eyes glistened, but her smile was broad. “We will, won’t we?”

Nodding, he kissed her. “Go on in. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She kissed him one last time before she left.

Once he was halfway across the lawn, he called his mother. He had to stop her from visiting Gloria.

“Hi, honey,” she answered, sounding happy.

“Hey, Mom, you haven’t gone to PA yet have you?”

“No.”

“Good. Forget about it. She’s not Maddy.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know,” he snapped.

“Feeling guilty for sleeping with her?”

“No. I trust she is who she says she is.”

“Oh, my God Tucker, what have done? You’re still having sex with her?”

“Damn it, Mom. I never said I was having sex with her. Jesus, what’s your problem?”

“I’m sorry, I just assumed. You are Robert’s child. I just figured if it wore a skirt, you chased it. So, you’re not screwing her?”

“Just drop it. I love her and that’s all that matters.”

“You can’t love her. She could be your sister.”

“No, she isn’t.” Tucker’s words were clipped.

His mother took a deep breath. “You’re making a mistake. Come home. You need to put distance between yourself and this girl.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to. Does she know who you are? Does she know you may be her brother?”

“Would you stop saying that shit? I swear to God there is no evidence of that. Just stupid clues that mean nothing.”

His mother’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “What have you done?”

“Nothing,” he said quietly. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Tucker?” she asked with that Mom interrogation voice.

“Fine.” She wanted to know. He’d tell her. “She’s pregnant.” His hand was suddenly sweaty on the phone.

“I hope you’re joking. Tell me you’re joking.”

“I can’t.”

“Seriously, Tucker? How many times is your dick going to get you in trouble?” his mom shouted.

“It’s not the way you think. It’s a good thing. It will work out; I know it will.”

“Does she know?”

“What? That she’s pregnant?”

“No, you dumb ass. Does she know your father is Robert Morgan? Do you know her father’s name?”

“No, but her dad died years ago. I’m telling you, she’s not Maddy.”

“I suppose now’s a bad time to tell you Gloria thinks she could be Maddy.”

“I thought you didn’t take her the picture?”

“I didn’t. Ed did.”

“Damn it, Mom. You and your f—“

“Stop yourself right there. Don’t you dare think you can take that tone or language with me. Considering Gloria and my history, I felt it best Ed go talk to her. Gloria is convinced she’s Maddy and wants you to bring her home.”

“I’m telling you, she’s not Maddy.”

“So, you say. Good grief, your kid’s mother can be its aunt too.”

Tucker panicked. His mind raced, looking for any other answer. He thought of the two girls in the picture. Maddy and her friend. They looked alike. “If—and that’s a huge if. If she is one of the girls, she’s Ariel.”

“That’s what Ed said, too. Gloria showed him pictures of Maddy, and your super-sleuth of a stepdad decided she had to be the Stone girl. He was so convinced, I had to email the picture to the girl’s mom, and I have bad news for you there, playboy, Amanda Stone says she’s Maddy too.”

“You did what?”

“Well, Ed wouldn’t let it go. He wouldn’t let me call and tell you she was Maddy until he was convinced. And I suppose Ed had a point that Gloria was just so eager to believe she was her baby, she had zero objectivity. I looked up Amanda Stone’s number and called. She asked me to email the picture, so I did. She said it wasn’t her daughter. But she was certain the girl looked like Maddy.”

Tucker shook his head. It wasn’t possible. Destiny wouldn’t have drawn him to someone he couldn’t ever have.

“So, what the hell are you going to do? Are you sure she’s pregnant?”

“I’m not sure of anything. I’ve got to go.”

He hung up the phone. The hell he wasn’t sure. He knew he loved her, and he damn sure wasn’t giving up his kid.

His next call was to Santos. When he asked about getting a fake ID, his friend laughed. “You racist son of a bitch. You think just because I’m Mexican, I know how to get fake IDs?”

“I’m sorry, man. That was stupid of me. I thought since you were a cop, and I’m just—”

“Oh, I can get them. I’m just giving you a hard time. Should I ask what you did?”

“I need it for a girl. She can’t get a legal ID.”

“Oooh found yourself a sexy housekeeper, huh?”

“Now, who’s being the damned racist?”

Santos laughed. “I’ll find out what it’ll cost you. I can assure you, it won’t be cheap.”

“Whatever it costs. I’ll pay it.”

Hanging up the phone, he had an ominous feeling. He hoped when the costs were tallied up, he was only paying in dollars and cents.

Hetty’s front door was open, and he could hear her and Josie talking, so he walked on in.  Hetty’s exasperated voice brought him to a stop. “You don’t know if he’s trustworthy or not. You’ll say nothing until Murray gets back. For all we know, he came here looking for you.”

“And his plan was to stay here for a month, make me to fall in love with him, and then kill me? Seriously, that would be a stupid plan. He’s sometimes confused and angry, but he would never, ever hurt me, that I know.”

“Bring me that stool. My feet are killing me. And chop those onions finer.”

Tucker heard a chair scoot across the floor. “You and your feelings.”

“You’ve always trusted them before.”

“True, true. But still, I’m still saying there is no way you’re telling him who you are until Murray says all right. You owe the man that much.”

The knife paused in the chopping. “You’re right. I won’t say anything.”

“Is he pressing? Trying to find out who you are?”

“No. He doesn’t seem to care about my past at all.”

“That’s good.”

“Not even after the other night. I panicked during the storm. He says I said Toby.”

“Who’s Toby?” Hetty asked.

“My dog.”

“Why would you saying your dog’s name make someone suspicious? Especially a stranger who knows nothing about your past?”

“True. He was probably more suspicious of why the storm freaked me out.”

“Probably thinks Toby is an old boyfriend,” Hetty said with a nod. “I’d leave it that way. At least until you can talk to Murray.”

“I hate lying to him. He’s so good to me. He even offered to get me fake ID.”

“Why on earth do you need that?”

“We want to get married, and I need to see a doctor.”

“Why would you need a doctor? Or get—don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

The knife resumed its chop chop against the cutting board. “Then I won’t tell you,” Josie said.

“Oh my God, you are. You’re pregnant.”

“A little bit.”

“A little bit? How in God’s name are you a little bit pregnant? You either are or you aren’t.”

“Then I am.”

“Are you crazy? Did you think this through at all?”

The knife slowed again and he could hear Josie start to cry. “Come here, child. For God’s sake, don’t you dare cry. A baby is always a blessing. And you’ll make a wonderful momma.”

Josie sniffed. “I hope so.”

Tucker cleared his throat. He wasn’t going to let Josie carry the weight of this confession by herself. He found her in the kitchen enclosed in a big bear hug from Hetty.

“You’ll be the best mom. I had a baby once, did you know that?”

“No,” Josie said.

“Yes, I did. Come, I’ll show you his picture.” Sliding off the stool she was sitting on, she kept hold of Josie’s arm. They saw Tucker at the same time.

“I suppose congratulations are in order. Piss poor timing, but congratulations.”

“Uh, thanks?” Tucker wished he could grab Josie and leave. Take her away, curl up, and forget all about the world. But he couldn’t. All he could do was pretend he heard nothing, suspected nothing, and pretend he was happy to be here.

“Come. I’m showing Josie pictures of my boy.”

She led them to the living room. The ceiling was low and the furniture was covered in afghans and quilts. Evidently, Hetty had kept her promise to declutter. The last time Tucker was in this room, he couldn’t see the floor. Tucker thought she’d give up after finishing the kitchen, but she hadn’t. There were tables visible and chairs to sit on. Hetty sat in a recliner and motioned them toward the couch.

“Murray and I finished the house, Tucker. Mercy, I forgot what a good man I married. Going through the rooms, remembering all the good times and the bad. We got everything sorted out. It feels good.” Hetty looked around the room with pride. “I’m thinking when Murray gets back, we should start having Sunday dinner together. We’re sort of like family. Gonna have a baby.” Hetty sighed. “And speaking of babies. I’ve never liked to talk about it, but…” Hetty bent over and pulled an album out from under the table by her chair and set down the album.

It was well worn. Hetty handled it with tenderness, opening each page carefully.

“This is Robert Murray Banks. We called him Bobby.”

Tucker scooted closer. It was a picture of a thin woman with a dark-haired baby.

“Can you believe I was so damned skinny?” Hetty said with a hoot. “Dear me, I’ve tripled my size. Poor Murray. Never complains.”

Neither Josie nor Tucker said anything. Hetty kept flipping pages. The newborn became a chubby baby, then a smiling toddler. Hetty and Murray looked happy. Tucker put a hand on Josie’s waist. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the end of this story.

“Bobby walked early. Look at those chubby legs. Boy could he run on them.” She flipped through more pages. They made it a third of the way through the book and the pictures stopped. Smiling over birthday cake one minute. Blank page the next.

“What happened?” Josie asked, a catch in her throat.

“He was stung by a bee. We never even knew he was allergic. By the time we got him to a doctor, his breathing had stopped, and he was gone. Happy one day, gone the next.”

“I’m so sorry.” Josie broke into tears. “I can’t believe you never told me.”

Hetty handed her a tissue. “Oh, don’t you cry. Then I’ll cry, and I’ve cried so much I fear if I start, I won’t stop. Josie, do you remember when you first moved here, I asked why you spent so damned much time in that cemetery, and you told me you talk to the angel there?”

Josie dried her eyes with the tissue and nodded.

“And do you remember what I asked you?”

Josie folded the tissue in her hand. “You wanted me to ask why children die if God is so wonderful.”

“And what did that angel tell you?”

“Death isn’t a punishment. It’s a crossroad,” Josie said.

“Now, I know I threw the BS card on that when I first heard it. But as I let the idea roll around my head, it made sense and was exactly what I needed to hear.  Now, when I look over these pictures, I think of him as being on a trip. A wonderful trip. He had a wonderful life. He never got a broken heart. He never had to say good-bye to so much as a pet. And I know I’ll see him again, because you know what else you said?”

Josie shook her head.

“When you first told me this crossroad business, I told you to tell the angel it was full of shit. You know what you said the next morning?”

Josie shook her head.

“You told me, Mags says you shouldn’t be such a naughty bird; somebody might clip your wings.  There is no way anyone, no human at least, knew what that phrase meant to me. You see, my mother used to say that to me, and I hated it. Then when she died when I was a teen, I wished beyond all wishes I could hear those words again.” Hetty sighed. “It’s funny, the things you miss when someone is gone. You think it will be the really good stuff—like her fig pudding or her rhubarb jelly. But no, it was that little phrase that used to infuriate me. I never tried to explain that to anyone. I mean, what do you say? I miss my mom cleverly telling me I was a rotten turd? It was a grief I kept to myself. So, when you told me the angel gave you that phrase, I was floored. I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. I know you think you owe us, but darlin’, I owe you. You gave me peace, Josie. Oh sure, it still hurts. I still miss my boy, but I’m ready to be happy in this life. And I assure you—I am excited about this baby. Is it good timing? Not really. Are there gonna be kinks? Most certainly. But we’ll work it out, together.”

Josie smiled and nodded.

“Well, good then, let’s eat.”  Hetty heaved herself up. She grabbed the photo album and tucked it back into its spot under the table. Josie was at Hetty’s side, handing her the cane. Tucker was up and ready to follow, but he spotted a picture that had fallen onto the floor.  The two women were on their way to the kitchen and didn’t notice him pick it up.

There were two men in the picture. One of the men Tucker recognized immediately. His dad. He was standing arm and arm with another soldier. Tucker looked closer. The nametags proved him correct. The man on the left was Morgan, the one on the right Banks. He turned the picture over. In Hetty’s awkward scrawl, it read
Murray and Rob, Italy 1985.

His heart dropped as he shoved the picture under the table, wishing he could pretend he never saw it.