Love Lifted Me (28 page)

“Yeah, I have some money.” So cocky, this guy.

“You won't by the time I'm done with you.”

Harcourt slowed the confrontation by moving to the minibar. This kid was a snake. Did Rice know before or after? “Ah, the rehabbed heir of the grand Benson Law firm bares his teeth.” Harcourt feigned a shudder as he popped open a Coke. “I told you, all I want is to see my son.”

“Then what?”

“I don't know.” Harcourt moved as if he commanded the game. “Maybe file suit. Get my son back.” He eyed Max over the edge of his Coke can. “Gus and Lorelai seem bent on raising their grandson.”

Max lunged forward and slammed his hand against Harcourt's chest, gathering his collar in his fist. The soda dropped out of his hand and poured over the carpet. “You're lucky I don't break your face.”

“Keen on assault charges, are you?”

“A night in jail would be worth it. Now you tell me exactly what you want.” Max pressed against the base of Harcourt's throat.

“Five hundred.”

Max shoved him back and stepped away. “Five hundred grand. That's what it'll take to get you out of our lives?”

“Make it a cool million. I'll sign whatever you want and you'll never hear from me again.”

“A million? That's all? Just . . . one cool mil?” Max brought down his ire with deep breaths. And waited.

“I know you've got more, Benson, but I don't want to be greedy. Asa is my flesh and blood, after all. A cool million ought to make me disappear.”

Max backed toward the door and pressed the handle. “Be gone by morning, Harcourt. If I see you anywhere near my family again, I'll sue you for blackmail, embezzlement, and harassment. You'll be up to your eyeballs in legal fees.”

“You don't scare me, Benson.”

“Then you show your foolishness,” Max said, exhaling. “You think I want to look at my son and know I paid a million bucks to a scumbag like you just to get you out of our lives? For no reason? Because according to the birth certificate, I'm his father.”

“But according to the paternity, I'm his father.”

“No, you're the DNA donor. Crazy as it may seem, Harcourt, you're not always going to be a jerk wad, arrogant twenty-eight-year-old. Asa might want to meet you some day—shudder to think—and I'm not going to let you put a price on his head. Forget it. You're not worth it. Get out of town.”

He laughed. “Or what, a showdown at the O.K. Corral? Benson, Benson, Benson, this isn't about me. It's about him. The boy. He's not worth everything you have?”

“He is worth my life. But you're not.”

“Look at this deal as an insurance policy, Max. That's all. Insurance that Asa will forever be yours. Otherwise, I might just have to sue you for him.”

“That'd be great.” Max pulled his phone from his pocket. “Because I'd love to play this conversation in court for everyone to hear.” He tapped the screen and Landon Harcourt's voice slipped through the speaker. “
Make it a cool million
.”

Landon moved after him, a wild fire in his eye.

Max jerked open the door. “I don't want to see you again.”

At the click of the door, Jade scrambled to sit up, reaching for the light. When Max came in, peeling off his shirt, she held her tongue.

Let him speak.

He hung up his shirt, popped off his sneakers, then slipped out of his shorts. “I went to see him. Landon. He wanted money. A
cool
million. If we paid, he'd go away, drop the lawsuit.”

“He wanted money? Is he insane?”

“I told him to get out of Colby and if I ever saw him again, I'd charge him with extortion, harassment, and everything in between. My guess is he didn't care about Asa until he heard we had money. Probably tried to shake down Gus too.” He crawled into bed, pressing the heels of his hands over his eyes, breathing out a long, weary breath. “I've got to figure out who we're putting on the field this Friday.”

“That's it?”

He peered at her. “Yeah, well, I got the firm on it. I have a recording of Landon asking for payout . . . what?”

“Rice lied, that's what, Max. She lied.” Jade stepped out of bed, a small steam rising in her head. “She nearly ruined our marriage.”

“I nearly ruined our marriage, Jade. Rice lied. If she were alive, I'd be duking it out with her, but she's not. There's nothing I can do about it now. The damage
and
the blessing have been done.”

“How can you be so cavalier?”

“What are my options?” He fluffed a pillow to stuff behind his back. “Stew over it? Get mad? Disown Asa? Not going to happen. It stinks. I wish it were different but it's not. He's not mine biologically but in my heart, he's all mine. I've only been with him for four months, but I've known about him since he was born. I've been supporting him. There's no way I'd give him up. No way. The boy deserves the best I have. The best we have. When I was running, thinking, trying to sort it out, I just had a peace over it. I could get mad, rail, sulk, ream you out, but to what end? My heart said
peace
. It's done. All this mess with Rice. Done.”

She regarded him, testing his words against his body language. “Do you want to ream me out?”

He shook his head, watching her with tired but very clear eyes. Like honey-hued marbles. “I caused all this mess. I'd cash in every dime to my name and surrender my reputation to undo it. But I can't.”

Jade crawled onto the bed and sat crossed-legged in front of him. “Now that we've met Landon, Max, I can see why Rice named you Asa's father. I can't imagine how she felt when she first saw Asa, so in love, so fierce to protect, all the while realizing Landon was his father. I might have done what she did. Not seduce another woman's fiancé, but—” The tears in her eyes were from forgiveness. “If I could choose between you or Landon? No question. You. And I wouldn't have cared whose marriage I hurt in the process.”

His eyes brimmed. “I don't deserve you. Or that confession. Or all that God's doing here, with us.” Max rubbed his eyes, flicking away the soft dew of tears. He cleared his throat. “I never thought any good could come from so much pain.”

“All things work together for good. For those who love God.” Jade shifted her position and curled next to Max, burrowing in next to his heart. “I've done plenty of bad things. Aborted a baby. Lied. Cheated. Fornicated. I'm no better than you. If Jesus is our standard, then we both fall way short.”

Max slid down on the pillow and wrapped Jade in his arms, kissing her forehead. “I'm still so sorry, Jade.”

“Yeah, me too. But”—she exhaled, pictured the song of the bird on the branch, the call to life—“let's move on. Forget the past, press forward to what lies ahead.”

“No more secrets.”

“Please, no more secrets.” Except one. She smiled. She'd tell him when the weight of the word hadn't just fallen off their shoulders. Besides, another week or two and she could tell him with certainty they
were
having a baby. She'd passed the ten-week mark.

Max absently caressed her hair and a soft chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“What's so funny?”

“Asa. He slept through it all. He'll wake up tomorrow morning none the wiser.”

Jade rolled to her back. “Man, you're so right. Ah, to be two.”

Max propped on his elbow. “Do you have any memories from when you were two?”

Jade pinched her brow. “I don't think so. Do you? Who remembers being two?”

“I'll tell you who. My cousin Jeff.” Max dropped to his back, locking his hands behind his head. “A few years ago we were at a family reunion and my Uncle Lake broke out the old slide projector. First slide up, Jeff starts talking. ‘Oh, I remember this picnic.' I said, ‘Jeff, you're like, what, a year old in this picture?' My Aunt Glo was holding him and Jeff had this long string of drool swinging from his chin. How could he remember? So what does he do? Starts describing the day and the details.” Max laughed. “I mean, Jade, it was incredible. I swear, he was just repeating stories he'd heard from the grandparents and aunts and uncles over the years, but it sounded like he really remembered.”

“Maybe he really did.”

Max shot her a wry lip-twisted grin. “A one-year-old remembering a family picnic up on the ridge. No. Jeff just likes to hear the sound of his own voice.”

“I hope Asa doesn't remember this spring. His mama suddenly ripped from his life, moving across the country, bunking in with a strange lady.” Jade stared at the ceiling. How far away it all seemed. But tonight it came full circle in her living room.

“That makes two of us. I don't want to remember it either. You know that wall of calendars at the Blue Umbrella? Let's not pin up this year.”

“Oh, I don't know.” Jade peeked at him. “This year's not over yet.”

“You think it can be redeemed to wall worthy? Everything we went through, then topped off with a crazy venture from Tennessee to Texas to . . . coach football.” Max ran his hands over his face. “A losing season. What was I thinking?”

“The season's not over. The year's not over. Let's wait and see.” They'd conceived this baby in Texas. That alone made this venture worth it. And this pregnancy different. She brushed her hand along the curve of his shoulder.

“Don't worry, Max. If this doesn't work out, it's okay. Go back to talking about Jeff. I like hearing you laugh.”

But his eyes were slipping closed. Maybe he'd tell her a story later. Jade reached for the lamp. When the room was dark, Max exhaled the sound of sleep.

Then he started laughing. “Did I tell you about the time Jeff tried to fly off Eventide Ridge?”

“Fly? Like an airplane?”

“Oh no, why use a machine when he had arms? He made his own wings.”

Max's laugh started in his belly and rolled up his chest. “It was the summer after tenth grade. Five of us ran around the Hollow together, three cousins and two other friends from school. One day, Jeff said, ‘I'm going to fly off the ridge.' The rest of us packed a lunch and grabbed our cameras. We had to see this and . . .”

Jade closed her eyes, listening to her husband's heart. Smiling. Drifting to sleep on the peaceful texture of his voice and the current of his love.

Twenty-six

“Lorelai. What are you doing here?” Jade scanned the porch and yard for Gus and Landon. The blustery Tuesday morning threatened a cold rain.

“I'm alone, Jade.”

“What do you want?” Jade blocked her view into the house, pulling the door against her.

“I, um . . .” She held her gaze down. “I'd like to see him, Jade.”

“I'm not sure I can let you. There is still a restraining order against you and Gus. Pending lawsuits.”

“I won't make trouble, Jade. You have my word.” She raised her chin, displaying every bit of her Whisper Hollow aristocrat heritage, and the stubborn pride chiseled in her cheeks. But a bit of humility had replaced her smug look from last night.

Jade hesitated. Lorelai remained steadfast, the hem of her sage green skirt pressed to her knees by the chilled breezed. Jade stepped back, drawing the door wide.

“Asa, look who's here. Grandma Lorelai.” Jade grabbed her arm as she crossed the threshold. “If this bites me, so help me, Lorelai—”

A mist coated her gray eyes. “There'll be no more trouble.”

Jade fixed Asa's breakfast as Lorelai chatted with him, asking about his cars.

He babbled away, a string of vowels and syllables that for the moment only made sense to him. He recognized Lorelai. Jade knew it. Of course, she and Gus were very much a part of his first eighteen months of life.

“He's growing so fast, Jade.”

“He's in 4Ts already.” Jade set Asa's eggs in front of him. Then a cup of coffee for Lorelai and the last cinnamon scone. “He looks like Rice, doesn't he?” she said, brushing aside his thick hair and taking the seat next to him.

Asa lost half of his first bite of eggs to his lap. He frowned, looking down, then retrieved the yellow piece and stuffed it in his mouth. He cracked her up.

“He does. Better than looking like that scoundrel.” Lorelai covered her quivering lips with her slender, manicured hand. A sob ricocheted in her chest. “What was she thinking, Jade? That girl . . . she was so smart and intelligent, and beautiful. One of the ones who had it all. Gus and I made sure . . . we made sure.”

“You can't blame yourself, Lorelai. Rice was a grown woman.”

“Do you hate her, Jade?” The glossy sheen in Lorelai's eyes thickened. “I don't think I could bear it if you hated her.”

Jade watched Asa for a moment, bonding with Lorelai's mother's heart.

“No, I don't hate her. I wanted to, but it's hard to hold a vendetta against a dead woman. Besides, I'm not one to point fingers. I've made a few regretful decisions. I mostly felt betrayed by my husband. We've been through a lot in our three years of marriage and Lorelai”—Jade peered at her—“there's no room for hate.”