Lies of the Heart (26 page)

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Authors: Laurie Leclair

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Lies of the Heart
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His dark, tight-lipped serious features told her more than any words could say. He hated what granny had done to her. For long, drawn-out moments he surveyed the document. “This isn’t your signature?”

“No.”

“And Chance’s?”

“He doesn’t even know about it,” she whispered hoarsely.

He went to say something, but stopped himself.

Something in his demeanor had her confessing. “He doesn’t remember that one time we were together as teenagers. He was drunk. But,” she drew in a long, unsteady breath, “I intend to tell him tonight.”

He nodded. “Good.”

“Well? About the papers?”

He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, making it stand on end even more. “I guess I don’t have to tell you that this is a sticky situation. On one hand, we have a crime against you and you can press charges. On the other, it’s your granny.”

Shock raced through her. “Oh, I won’t prosecute, no matter how terrible a thing she did. No, I meant about the baby, could…I find out about him?”

“Custody?” It was his turn to show his surprise.

Confused, she shrugged. “I really don’t know. I’ve read about cases like this in the news where the birth parents get the kids back and how wrenching it is for the child and the adoptive parents. They’re the only family my son knows. How could I do that to him?” Tears smarted the backs of her eyes.

“Yet, you’d like to find out how he is, if he’s happy, if he’s healthy?” The softly spoken words nearly were her undoing.

“Yes. Is that terrible of me?”

“No, Tessa, it’s a mother’s love.”

The tears came then, slow and silently running down her cheeks. She swiped at that. “I guess that’s my answer then. I don’t want to be selfish and hurt him by taking him away from his family,” she choked on the last word. “Not like I’ve been hurt by granny’s selfishness.”

He patted her hand. “There may be a way to make your name and address available to him, so when he comes of age if he wants to contact you he’ll be able to.”

Hope filled her heart. “Really? I’d like that.”

Staring at her, Gil said, “You’re a good woman, Tessa Warfield Deveraux. And he’s very lucky that you’re his birth mother.”

Warmth spread to her cheeks. Brushing aside his compliments, she said, “About that Deveraux part… ah…I want to know if Gabe’s will only stated marriage for six months and didn’t go into further details.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Can Chance and I just be married for that time and live apart?”

 

***

 

Tessa sat on the hardwood floor of her dance studio. The joyful memories were now a double-edge sword; she’d never have this space to dance in again. Her heart ached at the loss of not having that time again with the kids and with Chance.

The late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the windows, the rays stretching across the wood, warming it under its touch. With Max beside her, she waited for Chance to come home. Staring at the door, half of her willed it to open and Chance to walk through. The other half however, wanted nothing more than to pick up the suitcases stacked beside the entrance and rush right out so she didn’t have to face him. But, she knew he deserved the truth from her and no one else.

She dropped her gaze to the folder lying in front of her, drawn to it almost like a magnet. Her secret hid amongst the papers. Now she realized keeping it had done nothing more than to postpone the inevitable. Only now telling Chance would be much more devastating because of the years of lies. She was just one more person in his life he couldn’t trust.

From down below, she heard footsteps. Her heart leapt into her throat as they ascended the stairs. Max barked once and she patted him. The sound of the turning doorknob seemed to scream through her head, her pulse hammering away. She gulped hard when Chance filled the doorframe.

“Sunshine, you around?” he asked as he shut the door. He stilled when he spotted the luggage. Whipping around, he found her huddled on the floor, now hugging her knees.

“Hello, Chance.”

“What’s going on?”

She could feel the tension radiating from him all the way over here. “It’s time.” The simple statement made him jerk back as if slapped.

“No.” Shock filled his voice.

She nodded numbly. “Afraid so.”

He grabbed the doorknob, for support, she supposed. “So, you’re going back to her.”

“Nope.”

At that, he blinked several times, and then made his way slowly across the great expanse of the room. He joined her on the floor, resting an arm on one raised knee. “Mind telling me what this is all about?”

Avoiding his eyes at all costs, she tipped her chin at the folder that separated them. “I found that at granny’s today.” She drew in a shaky breath. “She’s lied to me for years. And, Chance, I’ve lied to you, too.”

Glancing at him briefly, she saw the dark frown that marred his handsome features. “How so?”

Tessa licked her dry lips and swallowed hard. “Remember when we made love and you said it was like your dream?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“It wasn’t a dream. We made love once years ago.” When he went to deny it, she held up a hand, saying, “Wait, let me finish. You were drunk. Fall on your butt drunk. You said you’d had some kind of fight with your granddad by disappointing him once again and gotten ahold of some good stuff to drown your sorrows in. I’d heard you storm out of your house and snuck out to follow you. I found you at the Greenville house, already wasted.”

He rubbed a hand through his hair. “Ah, Christ,” he muttered.

“The small radio we kept there was on and you asked me to dance for you.” Heat bathed her cheeks. “I did and then some. You were my first and, as it turns out, my only lover. That night you seemed so hurt, so forlorn that I tried to make you feel better.”

“By my sketchy memory you certainly did that.” His voice came out husky. “All this time and I thought it was just a dream.” Stunned wonder filled his voice.

She shrugged uneasily. “Well, it wasn’t. You forgot, of course, and I became practically invisible again.”

“Oh no, sunshine, you were never invisible.” The fierceness of his protest sent warmth rushing through her.

“But…it was later, a few weeks that I found out-” she stopped in mid-sentence to suck in another painful breath. “I was expecting your baby.”

There, she’d said it. Carefully, she looked at him to gauge his reaction. Shocked would be too mild to describe him. Devastated might apply to his ashen appearance.

“Chance?”

“The baby you said you lost, it was…I mean…” He couldn’t quite get it out.

Nodding, she gave him his answer. She pointed to the folder. “But that’s where granny’s lies come in.” Tears gathered in her eyes and she tried blinking them away. “He lived,” she choked out.

“What?” He grabbed for the file, flipping through it. He shifted through the papers, scowling darkly. “Tessa, what is this, an adoption certificate?”

Clamping her lips together, she fought back a cry. Then, once she gathered her composure again, she said hoarsely, “Yes, granny told me he died, but she really gave our baby away. Look at the bottom of it, she forged both our signatures. She knew you were the father. Can you believe she hated you so much that she’d sell our baby?”

Slack-jawed, he gazed at her, shaking his head. “Dear God, what kind of woman would do that to her own flesh and blood?”

“A hateful, bitter, selfish one.” Tessa sniffed and swiped at the tears falling down her cheeks. “She didn’t want to share me, either, so it just wasn’t you. I bucked her once, when I told her I was keeping the baby. She pretended for a time, making baby things. But, deep down, she didn’t like it one bit and I paid dearly for that streak of independence, didn’t I?”

“Sweet Jesus.” He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “You couldn’t tell me?” It wasn’t exactly an accusation, but it still stung.

“How?” she asked. “Oh, by the way, Chance, we had a one night stand that you can’t even recall and now we have a little bundle of joy on the way?” She shook her head, saying, “I don’t think so. Especially in the midst of our families feuding. Can you imagine what that would have done?”

He waved a hand. “You couldn’t have just come to me for help? I thought we had something special.”

Smiling at him sadly, she said, “No, we never really had anything, did we? There was always a wedge between us and there still is. I’m sorry about the baby. I’ve talked to Gil and we agreed that we’d inform the private agency that if our son wants to get in touch with us when he comes of age we’d be here for him. I hope you’ll do the same for him and not disrupt his life right now. It wouldn’t be fair to him.”

“Fair? What the hell is fair anymore?” Chance asked harshly. He let out a deep breath. “You’re right, of course. I just need time to adjust to it all.”

She rose gingerly, aching all over, but mostly deep down in her soul. “Well, that’s about all.”

He jerked to attention and stood in front of her. “Where are you going?”

She waved a hand. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ve discussed the arrangements with Gil and he’s sure your granddad’s will didn’t mention we had to actually live together, just be married for the whole six months.” She shrugged, saying, “I guess we just assumed all along. So, you’re off the hook.”

When she went to leave, he grasped her arm. His warm fingers made her skin tingle. “No, you can’t.”

Staring into his gray eyes for long, heart-stopping moments, she said softly, “Yes, I am. If you need me I’ll be staying with Jewel and her family until I can find a place.”

“This is your home, Tessa.”

Shaking off his hand, she said, “No, Chance, I don’t have a home anymore. I don’t think I ever did.”

 

 

 

Chapter 25

 

 

The next morning, Chance sat at the bar with his head bowed and a hand wrapped around a beer. In his other hand, he held a well-worn picture of a teenaged Tessa. The stolen photo had been a soothing balm for him over the years. He stroked the surface as if he caressed her lovely face, something he’d done hundreds of times in the past, only then he had some sort of lingering hope. Now he had nothing.
Tessa’s gone.

Emptiness echoed around him, throbbing in their little home over the bar. He even missed the damn dog. She’d taken Max.

He couldn’t be certain how long he’d been sitting there. He only knew the pain had crept into his heart and wouldn’t leave. The once cold bottle had even grown warm in his grip. As much as he longed to swallow his problems, something held him back thus far.

But the temptation nagged at him.
Just lift it your lips and take a sip.
He thought his mouth even watered at the prospect. Sweat broke out on his forehead at his inner battle.

Years of being on the wagon pressured him to stay the course while the devastating news of his past with Tessa jabbed at his thoughts at every turn.

A baby, with Tessa. Our son
.

He shook his head and blinked away the moisture gathering in the backs of his eyes.
A son!

But, as much as that knowledge hurt, he ached down to his very soul at Tessa leaving him.
She’s gone
.

For ages he’d blamed the feud for keeping them apart, in fact, a part of him felt relief because of it, so the distance would keep her from seeing the real him. For if she had known him, she’d end up disappointed just like he’d always done to the people closest to him.

A thought rushed through him. She never seemed to think he’d let her down. It wasn’t him. It was her granny.

“But she left,” he muttered under his breath. “Left
me
.”

Then he realized that as long as she remained with him or her granny she’d never have a chance at working things out in her head and heart. The battle would rage on around her, with her granny and him taking swipes through Tessa and making her their tug-of-war prize.

“God, why didn’t I see it sooner?” His grasp tightened around the glass. “I was just as bad, in a way, trying to force her to choose between us. But, the only choice is for her to make her own choice…”

“Hey, boy,” Walter said as he stood behind the bar across from him. He nodded to the beer. “You decide yet? Whether you’re going to drink it or throw it?”

For long moments Chance stared at the beer, contemplating what he had to do. Even just thinking about it was daunting, never mind going through with the plan slowly forming in his mind. It would be so much easier just to drown his sorrows. With great care he lifted the bottle. As he looked at Walter, he handed it over. “Here, you’d better take this.”

A wide grin stretched across the older man’s face. Chance swore it was the first he’d ever seen coming from Walter.

“You’re a good kid with a good heart, Chance, don’t let anyone ever tell you different. Your grandfather knew that long before you ever imagined."

“What did you say?” Chance blinked as if coming out of a heavy fog.

“Gabe. He bragged about you all the time, just not to you. Even called you a genius at fixing things.”

He shook his head, wondering if he heard right. “Are you sure you’re talking about me and not someone else?”

Walter chuckled. “Sure, it’s you. Oh, he didn’t have no scrapbook or anything, but I’ve been here plenty of nights when he’d go on and on about you to his customers.”

“Nah.” He couldn’t help thinking Walter was completely wrong.

“Yeah.” The bartender waved his arm. “Just ask anybody who walks through that door. They’ll tell you. He used to keep your picture right there.” He pointed a beefy thumb over his shoulder. “The one where you were leaning up against old Belle. Man, he loved that one. He was so damn proud of you for rebuilding that sucker from practically nothing. Every time he talked about it he’d bust a couple more buttons off his shirt.”

Recalling that photo, he opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. Time fell away and he remembered being sixteen and the long hours of working on the beloved truck. His granddad knew so little about fixing things, but he’d spent that time handing Chance tools and shooting the breeze. They’d talk about girls, dreams, life, heartache, and everything else that came up. He’d learned so much that summer. It was some of the fondest memories he held dear.

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