To Protect Her Son Page 16

  “I could pretty well do what I wanted. My parents didn’t pay much attention to me. That’s how I met Harry Young and why I married him.”

  “Young? I thought his name was Sawyer,” Nate said, realizing why his own search for Adam’s father had been a wasted effort. He’d trusted her to tell him the truth about her husband as part of supporting his efforts with Adam.

  “No. I went back to my maiden name after the divorce.”

  “Go on.”

  “Harry was older, handsome in a rugged sort of way. He flirted with me, said he had plans to make big money. I had never had money, and when he told me stories about how he planned to live, I believed him. I moved in with him and didn’t finish high school. When Harry shot the officer I was devastated and terrified. When I realized I was pregnant all I could think of was hiding out, disappearing, but I didn’t have the money. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, only to escape the disaster my life had become.

  “When Adam was born I promised myself that no one would ever know about Harry, about what my life had been like.”

  “But that was years ago, and a whole different time in your life. Why didn’t you tell Adam the truth when he asked?”

  “Because I didn’t want him to grow up knowing his father had nearly killed a police officer. I was afraid that he might go looking for Harry.”

  “And now when Adam is struggling to find his place, searching for who he is, you still couldn’t tell him the truth?” he asked, aware that he was seeing an entirely different side to this woman.

  “I couldn’t tell him the truth because I wanted to protect him. I thought Harry would never find out about us. I’d been so careful... I wanted to make a life for us that didn’t involve any part of Harry.”

  Her words held him. He struggled for an answer that wouldn’t reveal his thoughts and the feelings driving them. He cared...much more than he should. He gentled his tone, seeking to understand her better. “You carried the burden of this lie for the past, what? Fourteen years? What made you do this?”

  She moved to the far side of the sofa. “I wanted to protect Adam from his father’s criminal behavior. I wanted to save my son from the unhappiness such knowledge could cause him. Harry nearly killed a police officer, and I’ve had to live with that all these years. I didn’t want Adam to live with it, as well.”

  “Did you talk to anyone about this? Seek anyone’s advice?”

  “No. I had no one whose advice I could trust, and I didn’t have the money to see a therapist. Besides, to admit to anyone what was going on in my life could have cost me my job.”

  “You don’t know that,” he replied. He’d begun to think they might be friends, that helping her son could lead to something more. And in the rush of feelings flowing through him now—shock, disbelief—he’d seen his emotions for what they were. He really wanted her in his life, to share his life and to share hers. He needed her to know he trusted her. And now he had to face the fact that she hadn’t trusted him enough to confide in him.

  What else had she lied about? “Adam’s almost fourteen now. When did you plan to tell him the truth?”

  “The truth?” She scrubbed her hands over the denim fabric stretched across her slim thighs, and Nate was helpless to keep from watching the way her fingers moved, wishing it were his hands. “Probably not for a long time if I could manage it. I wanted him to be an adult when he found out so that he wouldn’t be influenced by his father.” She shrugged. “But now I have no choice but to tell him. Tell him or leave here. I don’t want to leave. When I saw the reporter on the TV talking about Harry, I still believed that we were safe...”

  “The reporter on the TV?”

  “Yeah, one of the national networks ran a piece today on Harry, some story about how he’d become a Christian and wanted to be redeemed for what he’d done to the police officer.”

  She hadn’t been willing to confide in him until she’d had no choice. “So it’s now all over the news, and you want to run away. Or you thought you wanted to run away.”

  “Harry knows.”

  “How?”

  He listened as she explained about the Bartlett woman, her face wet with tears, her shoulders hunched. He felt sorry for her, and he wanted to help her. Yet he wasn’t sure he could do that unless he believed she’d told him everything. He’d made that mistake with Natasha. He’d assumed that they were together on everything, only to discover that she couldn’t keep her promise.

  Gayle wasn’t like Natasha, and her circumstances were entirely different. But in his heart and mind he wasn’t sure if he could offer the support she needed without being certain that she’d told him everything.

  “So your answer to this is to run away.”

  “No. I don’t want to run away. I want to stay here...with you. With your family and my friends.”

  Was that supposed to be comforting to him? Was he to believe that she had turned to him for help because she wanted him to be a part of her life? That staying had something to do with how she felt about him? Or was she simply looking for an ally should the press arrive at her door? He hated himself for thinking this way, but he’d begun to really care for her, a glimmer of love he couldn’t deny. Yet he couldn’t lower his emotional guard or let himself feel vulnerable where she was concerned. He would not get caught up in the pain such vulnerability would cause.

  He drew in a heavy breath as his eyes met hers. Without warning, something deep inside him twisted, causing an unfamiliar wrenching in his chest. She’d come to mean something special to him. Without him realizing it, he’d opened his heart to her, and she’d let him down. “I thought we were friends, that I could trust you.”

  Her eyes darkened. “This isn’t about you or me. It’s about Adam. With the news reporters jumping all over this story, I have to tell him as soon as he comes through that door.” She nodded toward the front of the house. “If I don’t, someone else will. I don’t care what the media are saying about his conversion to Christianity. Harry is a mean man. Now that he knows I’ve kept his son from him he will make my life miserable—all in front of national television.

  “I can find some way to cope with it all, but Adam...” Tears flooded her eyes. His hands reached for her of their own accord and stopped. He couldn’t touch her, expose his need for her without knowing who she really was.

  She visibly held herself in check, clinging to the arm of the sofa, as far from him as possible. “Adam has to be told the truth. It’s the only chance I have to protect him from the worst of what is to come. Harry always liked to be the center of attention. And now, if he has an audience, he won’t hesitate to drag Adam into it, make himself look like a man who’s been abandoned by his wife and kept from his son.”

  She stared at his hand where it rested on the sofa. “Will you help me figure out how to tell him?”

  “That should be your job,” he said, torn between reaching for her and walking out. He didn’t like how he was feeling one little bit. He had come to believe in her, in what might be possible between them with time and mutual caring. “This is the kind of thing only you can tell him.”

  Her eyes met his. She looked desperate and frightened. “When I first heard the news report I wanted to run. I came home and packed Adam’s things and mine. I couldn’t face telling him. You see, I’m a coward. I’ve lived a lie because I’m too afraid to tell the truth.” Her eyes darted around the room as tears bolted down her cheeks.

  She didn’t attempt to block them, and he felt himself soften. He had no right to pass judgment on her. He may have lost his dad, but he’d had a loving, supportive family to rely on, while she’d had no one she could turn to for advice. She had lived the past fourteen years alone.

  However misguided Gayle’s efforts were on Adam’s behalf, she had her son’s best interests at heart. He could at least help her get through this. “If the press stay o
n the story, and Mary Ellen Bartlett is right about your ex-husband’s plans, he may show up here. But I’ll be here for you. I’m only a phone call away.” He reached out to brush the curls resting on her shoulder.

  * * *

  THE ONLY SOUND between them was their breathing, no words of blame or probing questions. Gayle glanced up, her eyes meeting his, making her wish she could simply move into the safety of his arms, that her past was just one bad dream.

  As if he’d read her thoughts, Nate slipped his arms around her. He pressed his lips on her forehead, his caress so intimate and inclusive it swept all reason from her mind.

  “You’re not to blame,” he whispered close to her ear. “You were eighteen years old when Harry did what he did. You couldn’t have stopped him.” He took her face in his powerful hands, his mouth close to hers, his eyes never leaving her face.

  She had never met anyone like Nate, and she was quite sure she loved him. Yet he hadn’t said a word about his feelings for her, or offered her any hope that he might want more than friendship. And now that he knew the truth, there would be little chance he’d see her as anything other than a woman whose life was in shambles. A woman who had lied to just about everyone for years.

  He had no reason to be in her life now that he knew her secret, except for his mentoring of Adam. And if Harry made her life into his own private media event, she had no reason to believe that Nate would stay beside her. He’d given his word, but she’d seen how words could be meaningless.

  But before he left she needed to feel his arms around her. To believe that for one short interlude someone might desire her. She quietly slipped her arms around him. “How do you feel about the man who shot you?”

  “As awful as it was at the time, it led me to what I’m doing today. Being injured took me off the line of duty, but gave me the opportunity to work with children at risk. That’s something I love.” His smile swept her up in its brilliance. “And it gave me the chance to meet you.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, surprised and hopeful at the same time.

  He looked into her eyes, his attention focused solely on her. “I’m sorry I judged you. I had no right to. You were doing the best you could under difficult circumstances, and I admire how hard you’ve worked to be a good parent...a good person. Gayle, it’s not about your past, it’s about your future.”

  Her body warmed at his words. “My future?”

  “I don’t want you to leave Eden Harbor. I want to help you put your past behind you, once and for all.” With that, he kissed her, his arms enfolding her in a snug cocoon of need and desire. She hugged him close, her mouth opening to his, her heart rising in her chest. In an easy movement he pulled her down on the couch with him, his hands roving over her body. She tried to respond, but ended up feeling awkward and embarrassed.

  “I’ve never really been with a man. I mean, sex with Harry wasn’t...”

  “Forget Harry,” he said, his kiss deepening, coaxing feelings she’d never experienced to spiral through her. His gentleness, his ardor, mixed with her driving need to be loved made every hurt, every insult, every remembered attack on her soul start to fade. Being in his arms soothed her, and she finally knew unequivocally what it meant to be happy.

  He palmed her breast. His body shaped hers. Her breath came in short gasps.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said. “From the first time I met you, I wanted to run my fingers through your hair.” His mouth teased her lips as he reached to undo her bra. The light caught on his watch, illuminating the time—4:19 p.m.

  “Adam!” She grabbed his wrist and took another look. “I don’t have much time. Adam will be here soon...if he comes straight home.” For once she hoped he’d be late.

  She glanced surreptitiously at Nate, whose only response seemed to be a giant scowl. “Look, are you sure you want to help me? I’m going to tell Adam this afternoon, and then if the press find us...” She left the sentence unfinished as she scrambled up from the couch. With an aching sense of sadness, she realized that he might mean what he’d said about helping her in the short-term, but she couldn’t ask him to be there for her any longer than that. Mentally she shook her head to ward off the feeling that her life was careening out of control, and she was powerless to stop it.

  Nate towered over her as he stood up. He was the fulfillment of every dream she had ever dared to dream. “I’m not leaving you to face this alone. Why don’t you let me see what I can do for you and Adam?” he asked, his voice a soft caress, beckoning her back into his arms.

  Relief made her knees weak. She moved toward him, her head resting on his chest as she listened to the solid beat of his heart. If only life were this simple.

  The sound of footfalls along the porch announced the arrival of Adam home from school. “I’m going to tell him now.”

  “I’ll be right beside you when you do.”

  So many feelings flooded her heart—love, gratitude and happiness. Yet all of it paled in the face of what her son would do when he learned the truth about his father.

  As Adam entered the room, he stopped. “What’s going on?”

  Gayle asked Adam to sit down, explaining that she needed to talk to him.

  “What have I done now?” His suspicious glance went from one to the other as he sat down across the coffee table from her and Nate.

  “Adam, honey, I...I need to talk to you about something important.”

  * * *

  HIS MOM ALWAYS got that worried look whenever he’d done something she thought was wrong. Adam chewed his lip. Had she heard about the fight he got into at school today? One of his buddies, Norm Hanson, had been picking on Jeremy Barker in the schoolyard. “The fight wasn’t my fault. Norm started punching Jeremy.”

  “Fight?” His mom’s forehead was a mass of worried wrinkles.

  “Isn’t that what this is about?” Had he confessed to something she didn’t know? As if his day hadn’t been bad enough already.

  She shook her head in a strange, distracted way.

  Adam felt his stomach begin to pain. If it wasn’t the fight, then what awful thing had happened to make his mom so upset? Had she been the one to do something wrong for a change? Was she trying to tell him that she and Nate were dating? Now, that would be so cool.

  “Mom, it’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me,” he said, trying to sound all grown-up. He had to admit that Nate looked downright uncomfortable.

  “Adam, when you were born I was alone,” she said, her voice so soft he could barely make out her words. He looked to Nate, but he was staring at his mom...a strange expression on his face.

  “Dad was away on the fishing trawler, wasn’t he?” he asked, frowning. His mother and Nate were behaving in a seriously weird way.

  Her hands scrubbed her thighs, a sign that his mom was about to cry.

  Not today, Mom. Please not today.

  “I got my math test back and got a hundred,” he said to block whatever was coming his way.

  His mom looked distracted and then went back to rubbing her legs. “Adam, your dad is alive.”

  “What!” He jumped up, feeling an amazing rush of relief and happiness. “They found him where? On an atoll in the Pacific Ocean? Like that guy from El Salvador who was found in the Marshall Islands after a year?” He started to pace around the room, imagining what it would be like when he met his dad for the first time. “Jeez! Who would have thought... How is he, Mom? Have you talked to him? Did he ask about me? When can I see him?”

  “Adam, please sit down,” she asked.

  “Why? What’s the matter? Doesn’t he remember us? Does he have another family? What’s he doing?”

  “Adam, your father wasn’t on a trawler off Alaska. I...I didn’t tell you the truth because I wanted to protect you.”

  “From what?” he asked, impat
ient to understand what his mother was trying to say. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Your father was sent to prison for shooting a police officer in Anaheim shortly after you were born. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you growing up with the stigma of being the son of a convicted felon.”

  “My dad is alive in prison somewhere? You’re lying,” he shouted, hurt and confused by his mother’s words.

  “No, she’s not,” Nate interjected quietly.

  Adam turned his anger on Nate. “What would you know? And if my dad is alive and in prison, why didn’t you find him for me when I asked you to? Police officers can get that kind of information, can’t you?”

  “He didn’t know where Harry was,” his mom said. “I didn’t tell anyone because I wanted you and me to have a fresh start here in Eden Harbor. When Harry was sent to prison, it just seemed simpler for everyone if Harry Young died in a trawler accident.”

  “Young? I don’t have my dad’s last name?”

  “Adam, I made it all up to protect you from him.”

  “From my father. After all the times you and I talked about Dad, especially since we moved here to Aunt Susan’s house. Why couldn’t you tell me then? We had moved thousands of miles from where it happened. Do you know how it feels to have no idea what your father or his family was like? To have no connection to anyone on this earth other than you and a few friends? Not having a family is awful. Why couldn’t you tell me? At least then I could have understood what was going on.”

  “I didn’t want you to have to grow up as the son of a convicted felon. I wanted you to grow up believing your father was a good man.”

  “But he wasn’t. He wasn’t a good man, but he was still my dad.” He wanted to hit something, smash his fist into something, anything to ease the anger building inside him. But he couldn’t with Nate standing there, looking so protective at his mother. What was he doing here anyway? What was in it for him? Was he the one who’d made his mom tell the truth? “So why now, Mom? Why are you telling me now?”