The Secret She Kept (5 page)

“Does anyone else know about me?”

“No one. No one even knows I was with you.”

Didn’t that just figure. She was too embarrassed by her terrible lapse in judgment to tell anyone.

“What’s your family going to say?” he asked.

“My family isn’t going to find out.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you? The secret is out. You can’t go back, Savannah. I’m her father and I’m not going away. The truth is no longer something you can shove under the rug and pretend everything’s okay.”

“You think that’s what I’ve been doing?” There went the knuckle crack. “You have no concept what it’s like to make the decisions I’ve had to make by myself because you took off. Keep the baby or not. Marry Michael or not. Let my family in on who the real father of my child is or not. Tell Allie or not. Track you down or not. Not a day’s gone by that I’ve pretended everything’s okay.”

He held up a hand. “Okay, I get it. I’m sorry.” He reached out to touch her arm. “Let’s take some time so we can both get used to things.”

She pulled away from him.

“We’ll talk about it again in a couple of days,” he stated.

“You don’t understand that I don’t want to talk about it ever, do you?” she said.

“Oh, I get it just fine.
You
don’t understand that now that I know I have a daughter, I can’t walk away.”

He stared at her for several seconds and then did just that…walked away. But he’d be back.

J
AKE DETESTED HOSPITALS
. The smell, the sounds, the harsh lights everywhere. He supposed that was a natural reaction when you’d been through what he and Emily had with their mother.

He stopped at the information desk and asked for Dean Barnes’s room number. The volunteer typed in the name, her nails clicking on the keys. “Room 204,” she said, and smiled up at him. Jake wasn’t able to fake a smile back.

As he made his way to the elevators, he saw the hallway that led to the emergency room. Against his will, he paused, regarded the corridor to the waiting area, and broke out into a cold sweat.

The whole scene came back to him vividly—he and Emily in the uncomfortable, crowded lobby, praying, holding hands…He’d been twelve and Emily six. He remembered fearing the worst and having those fears confirmed when the doctor emerged too soon. Too soon to have rolled their mother to surgery, or to have spent much effort saving her.

Because it’d been too late.

She’d ended her life with a bottle of pills, and no one at the hospital had been able to do anything for her.

Their father had arrived not long afterward. He’d been teaching a class at the university, fifty-five miles away. Jake had tried numerous times to reach him at his office before he’d finally gotten through, and he’d thought then, surely, his dad would step in and make everything a bit more bearable. A little less nightmarish.

But no, he hadn’t. He never did. Instead of helping his children through their grief, he’d buried himself even more in his job. Ironic, since Jake maintained that a big part of his mother’s problems had stemmed from her husband’s workaholism.

Jake shuddered and hurried past the hallway to the elevator.

Once he stood outside of room 204, he leaned against the wall, thinking that maybe sitting in the E.R. waiting room and remembering the hellish past would be preferable to walking through that door and speaking to his father.

He pushed off from the wall and entered, not giving himself a chance to rethink the visit. This was why he’d returned to Lone Oak. He was doing it for Emily and Emily alone.

The sight of the figure in the single bed stopped him in his tracks. Jake turned and checked the number on the door, which he’d left ajar, to verify this was the right room. The man in the bed did not look like his father.

He was sleeping, and the body outlined by the sheets was half the size his dad’s had always been—not fat, just wide…sturdy. Tubes snaked from bedside machines and IV drips, and monitors periodically beeped.

When Jake had left town, his dad had had thick, dark brown hair. Now it was fully gray. His face was thin, bony, almost unrecognizable. His father opened his eyes, and Jake caught a glimpse of the man he remembered. But those hazel eyes were weary. Filled with defeat.

Jake could tell when recognition struck. His father didn’t smile, exactly, but something in his face lightened. “Am I imagining things?” he asked in a weak, gravelly voice. “Is it really you, son?”

Jake took one step forward, feeling uncomfortable. “It’s me.”

Dean Barnes worked one arm from under the blankets and held it out. Jake looked at the bony, pale hand for several seconds, torn. Torn because this man who barely resembled his father was heartbreaking, but had caused so much resentment and anger in the past.

Jake touched his father’s hand, then pulled over a chair to sit on, carefully keeping his distance.

“It’s nice to see you,” Dean said. “Been too long.”

Jake worked to keep his comments to himself. While he couldn’t get rid of the years-old anger, he did have the sense to go easy on this man. This dying man. Even as Jake stared at his father’s emaciated body, he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that Dean was losing his battle with the big
C
.

“Emily asked me to return.”

“I’m glad.”

A nurse arrived then and Jake stood to get out of the way, relieved at the interruption.

“This won’t take long,” she told him as she rolled in some equipment.

“I’ll wait in the hall.” He slipped out before anyone could protest. Exhaling deeply, he leaned against the wall, searching for a happy memory of his father. After his mother died, there had been very few good moments, but before that…There had to be something.

By the time the nurse emerged a few minutes later, he’d dredged up one happy memory. He’d been five or six, and his dad had bought him his first real wooden bat and baseball. They’d played out in the yard for hours. It was one of the only occasions Jake remembered his dad playing with him.

“All done,” the nurse said, her voice friendly yet concerned, conveying sympathy for their situation. Sympathy, Jake realized, that was wasted on him.

He was sad, but not because his dad was wasting away. Maybe that would come. Perhaps when his father passed on. Right now his throat tightened at the realization of all they’d missed throughout his life. The family that wasn’t…

His thoughts turned to Allie, his little girl, who made him want to smile even now as he thought about the horse drawing she’d given him.

Sadly, he and his dad had shared almost no connection in the nineteen years they had lived under the same roof. Jake had missed the first eleven years of Allie’s life, but he had hope for the future. He wanted to make their relationship special, wanted her to have good memories of things they’d done together, moments they’d shared. He wanted to have everything with Allie that he’d missed with his dad.

With Dean it was too late.

Jake straightened and went back into the room, but his father had fallen asleep. Jake watched him for several minutes, again searching for childhood memories of them together, but the truth was his dad had been at work most of Jake’s waking hours. He remembered hearing him slip in the back door after Jake had gone to bed. There were occasions when Jake had woken up as his dad told him good-night and pulled up the blankets, but those were fuzzy. Jake wondered now if they’d been real or just what he’d hoped for.

He could feel his pulse pounding in his temples. He had to get out of here. He would have to come back; he couldn’t leave things like this. But he couldn’t take more tonight, and maybe his dad couldn’t either. Dean had acted friendly, but Jake was certain they’d both felt awkward.

He walked out of the room before his father could wake up.

T
HURSDAY AFTERNOON
, Savannah rubbed her aching neck and struggled once again to concentrate on the work in front of her. She hadn’t slept much last night, or the nights before—ever since Jake had found out the truth about Allie and decided he wanted to be part of her life.

The kids, for once, were avidly doing their homework, Allie in the conference room and Logan next to Savannah on the floor. She’d promised them that if they could finish their assignments before she was done with work, she would let them each rent a video. She was a firm believer in parenting by bribery at times, and this was one of them. Her headache had persisted for days now, and she acknowledged she’d been rotten company and a grumpy mother. Both kids probably deserved more than a video rental for putting up with her mood, but that was what she could afford today. Maybe Michael could spoil them this weekend.

She frowned. She still wasn’t used to losing her kids every other weekend. They were fortunate their dad cared enough to fight for some regular hours with them, she guessed. Sharing was hard to adjust to for everyone, though. All those instances over the years when she’d secretly wished to be alone in the middle of a sibling battle, and now she finally could be. She just had to learn what to do to keep from missing the kids.

The door from the shop area opened and she glanced up, expecting to find Zach, but not Jake right behind him.

“Hey,” Zach said, and immediately busied himself with the phone messages that hadn’t been urgent enough to forward to his cell phone.

“Afternoon,” Jake said, not smiling. He was still upset, obviously. Well, join the club.

Savannah stared at him, unable to think of a thing to say. She couldn’t quite act as though everything was fine, not when she was terrified of what his being around would do to her and her kids’ lives.

“Is there any coffee?” he asked, and Zach pointed to the conference room, where they kept the coffeepot and cups.

Jake sauntered in that direction and Savannah hastily popped out of her chair to follow him.

She needed to chill. She knew that, but she couldn’t seem to do it.

“Coffee?” he inquired smugly.

“No, thank you. Just checking on my daughter.” She shot him a glare of warning—possible because Allie didn’t even glance her way. “Why are you here, Jake?”

He poured brew into a disposable cup, his back to her. Then he turned, and she couldn’t help noticing how appealing he was even after being, she’d guess, on the future job site with Zach—hair tousled, dusty T-shirt stretched across his sculpted chest.

“I’m here for my grandma. Until I leave town, she’s put me in charge of her interests.”

“I thought you were in the middle of a crucial project back in Montana.”

“I am. Now I’m in the middle of two crucial projects, one in Montana and one in Kansas.”

“I just find it coincidental that—” Savannah glanced pointedly at the back of Allie’s head “—with everything going on, you decide to invade
here
. Now.”

“Interesting choice of words.” As he spoke, he ambled toward her. “You make it sound like it’s all about you.” He stopped right in front of her. Far too near. Infringing on her personal space and then some. “It’s not.”

Savannah glanced toward Allie again, noticing she was drawing instead of studying. Her daughter appeared to be ignoring them, but Savannah had learned that little ears were usually tuned in when you didn’t want them to be.

“Allie, why don’t you pack up your stuff. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Did you get your homework done?”

“Yesss,” Allie answered impatiently. But she did as Savannah requested, without ignoring her or fighting. She put her pencil into a pink canvas pouch full of art supplies, and zipped it.

“We’re renting videos tonight,” Allie told Jake.

“Videos? Cool. What are you going to rent?”

“
High School Musical.
It’s my very favorite movie.”

Who was this child who was volunteering all kinds of information without being prompted?

“That sounds fun,” Jake said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear as she walked past him.

“You could watch with us.”

“No, he couldn’t.” Savannah practically snapped the words. “Go tell Logan to pack his stuff.”

Jake started to trail Allie from the room, but Savannah reached out to stop him. He looked down at where she held his arm and she dropped it fast.

“You touched her,” she said in a low voice. “You’re being affectionate with her. You’re trying to get her to like you.” Her words were crazy, she acknowledged, but she felt desperate, as if he was stealing her child away.

He stepped closer, so they were inches apart, and spoke softly, gently. “Savannah. You’re being ridiculous. Relax.”

Being so close, she could sense his heat, the energy that pumped through him, and she wanted to lean closer. Wanted to hang her head and bury it in his chest, because yes, she was overreacting and she knew it. But…

“I can’t relax,” she said through gritted teeth. “She’s my daughter.”

Their eyes met, and the fact that Allie was
his
daughter, too, hung between them. Savannah stepped away, annoyed with herself for the momentary urge she’d had to move nearer to him. She pulled him farther into the conference room, out of sight of the others.

“You’re using this project to get closer to her, aren’t you? That’s why you did it.”

He eyed her in disbelief. “I didn’t even know about her when my grandma decided to meet with Zach. It’s been her decision all along. Completely unrelated to what I learned the other night, after our meeting. Do you really think I’d jeopardize my deal in Montana just to mess with you?”

“You said yourself you wanted to be in Allie’s life.”

“And I’m going to be in her life. I don’t have to play games to accomplish that. Not my style, honey.”

With that, he left the room, said goodbye to everyone and went out the front door.

Savannah sat on the edge of the table. She was an idiot. She didn’t really believe he was using the construction deal to get closer to Allie. She knew how insane that was now that he was gone. But seeing him saunter into the room with her daughter had sent Savannah into a panic. Made her slip into her annoying out-of-control-because-of-Jake mode.

She put her feet on a chair and lay across the table. The fact was more than just Jake’s knowing about Allie bothered her. Added to it was a bone-deep fear that her relationship with her daughter would get even worse.

The sound of Logan giggling at something snapped Savannah out of her self-pity fest and made her realize how easily one of the kids could find her here being pathetic and ashamed. She wearily sat up and slid to her feet, wiped the tears away, then busied herself tidying the coffee area. Which really wasn’t messy. She just needed a few moments to regain her composure before facing everyone.

So much for not losing control again.