To Be a Dad (Harlequin Superromance) (14 page)

Brendon was still crying, but slowed from gulps to whimpers. Dusty leaned his head against the window, fighting back his own tears.
This. Was. Hell
. Why had no one warned him how vulnerable a little kid could make him feel? Ironic that a three-year-old boy, who struggled to like him, could breech the barricades he’d spent his whole life erecting.

He jumped to his feet and looked around. There, under the old maple tree, lay a huge branch that had come down in the storm last week. He grabbed the branch, welcoming the solid weight of it in his hand.

“Brendon, climb into the front seat and get down on the floor. That’s right. Put your hands over your head.”

Adam was shouting at someone on his phone. He knew he only had a minute to break open the window before Adam tried to stop him. But he’d be damned if he was going into that legion to beg Stan to come out to unlock the doors. Plus he didn’t dare be within yards of the man right now.

He hoisted the heavy branch to his shoulder like a baseball bat and swung hard at the rear passenger window of the classic Mustang. The car was Stan’s pride and joy, his trophy for almost making it in the big leagues.
Take that, you son of a bitch
. Hundreds of cracks ran through the window, but it held together, looking like a mosaic. He swung again, satisfied when the window collapsed out into the street.

He reached in and unlocked the front door. “This way, Brendon. Come on. Careful of the glass.” He swept an armload into the street.

Brendon stuck his head up and looked at him, his face still covered with tears. After a minute he crawled over to the driver’s door. Dusty dropped the branch when Brendon got close enough for him to grab the small boy. He held the tiny, trembling body close to him and blinked back tears as he kissed the top of Brendon’s head. “You okay?”

Brendon buried his head inside Dusty’s jacket. “I peed my pants,” he confessed in a shaky, tearstained voice.

Rage quaked inside Dusty. He felt as if he were breaking apart into a million pieces. He loved this kid, and it felt like a miracle to hold his small body against his. “No blame, little man. You were stuck in the car. I’m proud of you for being so brave. I’m just going to pass you to Adam for a minute.”

Adam kept his arms by his side. “You should hold him.”

“Take him. Now.” He shoved Brendon into Adam’s arms, picked up the branch and circled the car. Stan was never, ever going to threaten or hurt his family again. He smashed both headlights, the death grip of anger inside him loosening.

“Dusty. Don’t,” Adam called from a few feet away.

Dust attacked the windshield. It took him three swings before the window shattered. That’s exactly how his heart felt, like a thousand jagged pieces. He used all his strength to bring the branch down on the hood of the car.

He heard people talking behind him, but his attention was channeled into destroying the car. It was either the car or Stan.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Stan came running out of the legion. “What are you doing? That’s my car, you asshole.”

Dusty turned toward him, the branch held high over his shoulder.
The slimy snot-nosed snake.
Stan stopped whining midsentence. The crowd that had formed across the street went quiet. Dusty gripped the branch harder, his eyes drilling into Stan’s. Anger vibrated through him.

“Dusty, my man.” Adam spoke quietly from behind him. “He’s not worth it.”

Dusty blinked back a sudden rush of tears.
Goddamn it
. “I know.” He tossed the branch on the ground and walked away. He hunched his shoulders and walked past his friends and his family on the sidewalk. Feeling as if he’d been flailed alive, his skin stripped away with no protection against the world and the flood of emotions that threatened to drown him, he thought he might walk right out of his life.

“I’m going to have you arrested for destroying my car, dick-wad,” Stan shouted after him. “It’s a classic. You’re never going to be able to afford to replace it.”

Dusty stopped, but didn’t turn around. He didn’t trust himself to go back and not kill Stan. He hunched his shoulders and walked past his friends and his family on the sidewalk. Not surprisingly, news had spread fast around town.

He’d screwed up big-time, in so many ways. He hadn’t been watching where he was headed with Teressa and the kids. Probably because he hadn’t known the endgame. He’d forgotten about the sheer nakedness of love. Hell, sometimes he wondered if he’d ever gotten over his mother’s desertion. It had taken him years to shake off the feeling that he wasn’t worth coming home for, and he’d sworn to never, ever open his heart like that again. And yet, here he was, all chewed up inside because a three-year-old kid peed his pants inside a locked car.
Damn it to hell
.

And the truth was he’d do it all over again, if necessary. No one hurt his family.

“You need witnesses,” Adam said.

Stan laughed. “I got all kinds.”

“I didn’t see anything,” Adam said. “Anyone else see what happened here?”

“I didn’t,” Pops said.

“Me, either,” agreed Cal.

“All I see is a piece of shit,” Sylvie called out in a loud voice.

“I work right across the street,” Teressa’s father said in his wobbly voice. “I’m sure I saw a branch fall out of the tree and land on the car. Branches came down in that storm last week.”

Stan looked around wildly. “You all saw him.”

“Prove it,” Pops challenged him.

“It’s not fair,” Stan whined. He stopped when Pops stepped toward him.

“Show’s over, folks,” Pops said. “Time to go home.”

Dusty started walking again. He wouldn’t be going home tonight. Couldn’t handle seeing the fear in Brendon’s eyes or the recriminations Teressa was sure to lay on him. Couldn’t handle the damned fear that twisted through his gut. He’d fallen in love with a family that didn’t want him. He’d tried to convince himself and Teressa that Teressa wanted him, but she didn’t. He just happened to be the father of her third child, that was all. He’d known all along that he wasn’t good enough to be a husband and father, and frankly, he was tired of trying.

* * *

T
ERESSA
STOOD
OUTSIDE
Dusty’s hunting cabin and watched the smoke curl up into the ice-blue sky. She’d never thought of herself as a coward, but today she was showing her true colors. Dusty had holed up in his camp for two days after rescuing Brendon, and she needed him to come home. They all needed him back, because it wasn’t home without him.

“Do you think he’s here?” Sarah whispered.

“I don’t know. Probably.” He wasn’t answering his phone, so she couldn’t warn him they were coming.

Brendon slipped his hand into hers and held on tight. She’d talked to both Brendon and Sarah about what Dusty had done, why he’d demolished Stan’s car, and how they felt about the whole thing. Sarah was old enough to understand that what Dusty had done was wrong, but he’d been trying to protect Brendon and that was all right with her. She just wanted him home. She didn’t care what he’d done or why.

Brendon had grown even more quiet than his usual self since the incident. He’d never been a typical noisy little boy, whooping and hollering and roughhousing around the house, but now he was a ghost, hanging around the edges of the rooms. She’d tried everything, but nothing had brought him out of his shell. She needed Dusty to breathe life back into him again.

She understood how Brendon felt, because for the past two days, she’d had a hard time dragging herself out of bed in the morning and feeling enthusiastic about anything. She needed Dusty to breathe life into her, too. But she was also ticked off at him. You don’t just quit a family. Either he was in or he wasn’t, but he didn’t get to play hot and cold with her kids or with her. They deserved better than that.

If she didn’t go home with Dusty today, she’d survive. She didn’t know how, but she would. But she was not letting him off easy. If he was done with them, he had to tell all three of them to their faces. That was the price he had to pay for his freedom.

Sarah rushed toward the door and pounded on it, calling Dusty’s name before Teressa had completely gathered her wits for the confrontation. Then again, she doubted she’d ever be prepared to let Dusty go. And that surprised her. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding on to him.

The door flew open and Dusty appeared, a startled look on his face. Brendon gave out a small whimper, but Sarah threw herself against him and wrapped her arms around one leg. He staggered back, a surprised laugh escaping him. “Hold on there, Princess.” He ran his large hand over her head and knelt down to hug her, but all the while he watched Teressa.

Teressa swallowed a surge of tears and tore her gaze away from the sad look in his eyes.

“Mommy said you don’t get to quit us unless you tell us first.” Sarah patted Dusty’s cheek. “You don’t want to quit us, do you?”

Yup. One-hundred-percent coward. Her six-year-old daughter had more courage than she’d ever have. Or maybe Sarah had more faith in Dusty than she did.

“Sarah,” she admonished her daughter. “I’m sorry.” Not able to look Dusty in the eye, she kept her gaze trained over his right shoulder. “I had a speech prepared to give you, but I suppose Sarah gave you the gist of it. If you’re not coming back, we need closure.”

Instead of answering her, Dusty let go of Sarah and turned to Brendon. “Hey, there, little man.”

Brendon took his thumb out of his mouth and, for the first time in two days, smiled. It wasn’t big, but it was a smile. The hard knot of anxiety in Teressa’s chest loosened enough for her to take a decent breath.

“Brendon, I’m really sorry for what I did. I didn’t mean to scare you. It was wrong what I did.”

“It was not. You saved him.” Sarah leaned against his shoulder.

Dusty shook his head. “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad, and I never should have beat on Stan’s car. I understand if you’re scared of me now.” He looked up at Teressa. “That’s why I came here. I didn’t want to scare the kids any more than I already had.”

“I peed standing up,” Brendon announced.

Dusty stilled and turned his gaze back to Brendon, a big smile slowly stretching over his face. “All by yourself?”

Brendon nodded his head.

“You’re the man. Slap the hand.” He held up his hand, and with a giggle Brendon high-fived him.

Teressa used the back of her hand to wipe away her tears. Damn hormones.

“How about you and Brendon go inside for a minute while I talk to your mother. There might be some chocolate bars left over from Halloween in the kitchen.”

Sarah rushed inside, then peeked back out and motioned for Brendon to join her. Brendon let go of Teressa’s hand and followed his sister. Dusty closed the door behind them and leaned against it.

“I don’t suppose it’s going to be that easy,” he said.

She shoved her hands in her pockets and studied her boots. “We’re not toys you can take off the shelf, then put back when you get tired of playing with us.”

“Come on, Teressa. I never took you or the kids lightly.”

“Seems like the first opportunity that came along, you were out the door pretty damned fast.”

“I’d terrorized Brendon. I really didn’t think he wanted to be in the same room as me.”

She looked straight at him. “That was the only reason you left?”

Dusty stared back at her for a minute, but dropped his gaze. “No one told me I could fall in love with a three-year-old kid. I didn’t see it coming.”

Oh, my. How long had she waited to hear him say something, anything, about loving her children? He loved Brendon. The tightness in her chest eased and she smiled, inside and out. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him. She hadn’t expected him to be so honest or so sensitive to his feelings.

“You’re scared?”

Dusty dragged a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

“And that’s what you do. You run away from commitments. How’s that working for you this time?”

“Not so good. It’s different when it’s a kid. They’re so damned vulnerable. They can break your heart like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“They can also love you unconditionally. That means, no matter what you do, how much you screw up, they’ll probably still love you.”

“So, think Brendon’s scarred for life?”

“I think he’ll be okay, but I wouldn’t pick up a stick of wood around him anytime soon.”

“I’m so sorry, Teressa. The kids seem kind of okay, but what about you?”

Oh, please let her say this without crying. “I don’t like that you left us. But I missed you, and I want you to come home.”

A crooked smile lifted a corner of his mouth. “You know what?”

“What?” she asked suspiciously.

“I missed you, too. I want to come home.”

Teressa felt as if a ton of bricks had been lifted off her shoulders. “Really?”

His eyes softened. “Yeah, really. Would I be pushing my luck to ask for a kiss?”

She pursed her lips. “That depends. Are you planning on running away from home again?”

Dusty moved closer to her and slid his hands around her waist. “I’ll make you a deal. Next time I run away, how about I take you with me?”

She leaned into him and sighed deeply. Despite her faith being shaken by Dusty disappearing from their lives, for even a brief period of time, she knew she was falling in love with him. She’d put her doubts on hold for now and hope for the best. “I like the sound of that.” She stood on tiptoe and touched her mouth to his.

* * *

A
NITA
’
S
HEART
PING
-
PONGED
inside her chest when she heard Cal’s truck pull into their driveway late Saturday afternoon. She should have told him she was babysitting Brendon and Sarah this evening, but she knew he’d say it was a bad idea, and she was tired of trying to convince him that she was all right. Instead, she’d opted to show him that she could handle being around children.

She was a nervous wreck.

Cal smiled when he saw her waiting for him at the back door. “Hey, honey-bunch.”

He dropped a kiss on her cheek and shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up in the closet. Last week, she and Teressa had discussed how different Cal and Dusty were from each other. Cal, for instance, always took his boots off at the door and hung up his jacket in the closet. Teressa said she was forever tripping over Dusty’s work boots and picking up after him. Anita had noticed the same thing with Sarah and Brendon. Both had brought a few toys with them today, Sarah’s organized in her knapsack, while Brendon’s was stuffed under his arm when they arrived earlier. How could two children, brought up in the same household, be so different? Being an only child, siblings had always fascinated her.