Adopted Son (6 page)

You continue to call me Jeremiah. No one calls me that. It’s like a slap in my face every time you do.

She really liked the name. She never dreamed he hated her using it. But then she should have picked up on that the first time she’d met him. Was she insensitive? Did she not care what he thought? She’d been groomed to be independent, assertive and to speak her mind. Her father had told her many times that’s what she had to do to make it in a man’s world.

Suddenly she didn’t like that person. She didn’t like her at all.

I would prefer it if you and I had no contact. If you’re at Eli and Caroline’s, I won’t go over and I’d appreciate the same courtesy. But knowing you, Grace, I’m sure you’ll do whatever you please.

Those words hurt a little more than the rest. In the years she’d known Jeremiah she’d never seen him so angry. Evidently, he’d wanted to tell her off for some time. And she’d been wondering why he’d never asked her out. It didn’t take a member of Mensa to figure that one out. Jeremiah didn’t like her in any shape, form or fashion. That truth was hard to take.

People from all walks of life began to gather at the bus stop: two nurses in scrubs, a black lady helping an older man, a Mexican woman with four children and three teenagers with iPod earbuds stuck in their ears.

The bus pulled up with a roar of wheels, the doors swung open and three people got off, then the others stepped onto the bus. The doors closed and the bus rolled into traffic leaving diesel fumes behind.

On the glass building across the street she saw a woman sitting on a bench. Her pulled-back hair gave her a pinched look. She seemed unhappy, alone. For a brief moment, Grace felt sorry for her.

Then she realized she was staring at herself.

Was that her?

She put a hand up to her hair. Yes, it was her. She kept staring at the woman as if she were a stranger. That uptight, stern woman wasn’t who she was inside. Or was it? That was how Jeremiah saw her, she kept thinking.

Jeremiah.
Even after he’d told her how much he hated the name Jeremiah, she was still using it to herself. Was she that selfish or self-centered? A tear slipped from her eye and she quickly brushed it away. She wouldn’t cry in public.

Grabbing her shoes, she started the trek back to the Whitten Building not even pausing to put them back on. She met a law clerk and a secretary in the lobby. She said hello and kept walking toward the elevators. She could feel their eyes probing her back, but she didn’t care.

Within an hour it would be all over the Whitten Building that Grace Whitten was in the lobby without her shoes. By the end of the day the tidbit would find its way to her father. She didn’t care about that, either.

She took the elevator to the parking garage and in minutes she pulled into traffic on Congress Avenue. Above the rooftops the state capitol building gleamed in the distance. She headed toward West Austin and the gated apartment complex where she lived. She needed time alone. Time to come to grips with everything she was feeling.

Entering her apartment, she took a moment to stare at her immaculate white home. It had a sterile feel to it, just like her office. She never noticed that before.

In the bedroom, she threw her shoes on the bed and slipped out of her suit jacket. She folded it neatly, and then paused. She had to break the chains that kept her bound to this uptight, repressed person. The jacket fell to the floor; her skirt and blouse followed.

Opening a drawer, she found a cotton T-shirt and slipped it over her head. She took the pins out of her hair and shook it free. She walked toward the kitchen stoically, resolutely refusing to look back at the mess she’d made.

Chocolate—that’s what she needed. And lots of it.

She found vanilla ice cream in the freezer. She grabbed it and reached for chocolate syrup and a spoon, carrying everything to the living room. Sitting cross-legged on the white sofa, she cradled the half gallon of ice cream in her lap, squirting chocolate syrup all over it. Gulping down two spoonfuls, she paused to stare at herself in the pane of the French doors leading to her small patio.

She frowned. Why was she seeing herself everywhere today? The frown dissolved into a smile. This was her, the real Grace, disheveled blond hair around her shoulders and a chocolate-induced gleam in her eye. She didn’t look excitedly happy, but she looked at peace with herself. To fight her deep-seated attitudes she had to keep this person alive. There was something cathartic about letting go, and it was something she intended to do more often.

And it had nothing to do with Jeremiah Tucker.

Or what he thought of her.

T
UCK SAT AT HIS KITCHEN TABLE
wondering what had gotten into him today. He hadn’t meant to say all those things to Grace. It wasn’t like him to be that cruel and it bothered him. He’d stepped over the line so far he wondered if he could salvage anything of their relationship—whatever that was. For Eli, he had to try.

They were part of the same family and families worked out their problems. That’s what Ma and Pa had taught him. Tomorrow he’d apologize or he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

He ran his hands over his face, seeing the hurt in Grace’s eyes. He’d never intentionally hurt anyone in his life and he didn’t like the feeling. But for a brief moment it had angered him that Grace had taken the case. She didn’t take child custody cases. She only worked on the high-profile ones, so why had she gone out of her way to take Brady’s case? There was only one clear answer to him—because Tuck was involved. That made sense to him at the time, but now he felt like a fool. Grace wouldn’t go out of her way to intentionally hurt him. He was sure it was a business decision.

He sighed with regret as he remembered some of her words. She hadn’t known he was involved in the case. When she’d said that, he should have backed out of the room and left. But he hadn’t. For some reason he wasn’t sure about, he’d wanted to wring her pretty neck and words came tumbling out. Now he felt rotten about the whole thing.

But he wasn’t giving up his fight for Brady. That was one thing he was very resolute about.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement and saw Eli and Caroline pushing a stroller up his driveway. They must have walked down the blacktop road. He quickly opened the screen door and Eli rolled a sleeping Jesse inside.

Caroline paused to kiss Tuck’s cheek. With blond hair and green eyes, Caroline favored Grace a great deal. But Caroline was soft, caring and impulsive while Grace was hard, driven and methodical.

“Jesse’s having a bad day,” Caroline whispered. “He fell asleep when we got halfway here. Hopefully, he’ll sleep for a while.”

Eli pushed Jesse into the den and turned the stroller to face them, then went to get a beer out of the refrigerator. “Anybody want a beer?”

Caroline sighed, taking a seat at the table. “It’s a good thing you’re not married, Tuck. Eli treats your place like home.”

“I’ll have a beer,” Tuck replied. “And this is Eli’s home.”

“See, he doesn’t mind.” Eli placed a beer in front of Tuck and handed his wife a bottle of water.

Caroline looked at Eli, one eyebrow raised. “You just assumed I wanted water.”

Eli removed his hat and sank into a chair. “You’re nursing. That’s all you drink is water and milk. And I was certain you didn’t want milk.”

“But you could have asked.”

“Okay. What would you like to drink, Caroline, love of my life?”

“Water. Thank you for asking.”

Eli rolled his eyes. “I’ll never understand women.”

Caroline laughed and their words faded away as Tuck’s inner thoughts intruded. Understanding was about being sensitive to someone else’s needs and feelings. He’d completely blown that concept today with Grace. He hadn’t given her a chance to explain her side of the situation.

“Tuck. Tuck?”

He jerked up his head to stare at Caroline. “Grace didn’t know you’d filed for custody of Brady Harper. She feels bad about it.”

He shifted uneasily. “It’s a difficult situation.”

“Have you thought about how you’re going to handle a baby with your job?”

“I’m working on it.” He studied his beer can.

“You know I love you dearly,” Caroline said. “You’re our best friend. You’re always there when we need anything. I’ve always admired your desire to help children, but have you thought that Brady might need a mother?”

Tuck knew the big but was coming. Caroline was known for speaking her mind. This one caught him a little off guard, though.

“Evidently you do.”

“Well, yes.” Caroline glanced at Eli, then back to Tuck. “After what Brady’s been through, he needs someone to love and care for him full-time.”

“You don’t think I can do that?”

Caroline got up and wrapped her arms around Tuck’s neck. “I think you’re a wonderful person, but you have a full-time job and Brady needs to build trust again in someone he knows will be there for him. He needs a mother.”

“A lot of women work and leave their babies in day care,” Eli spoke up. “And stop hanging on Tuck.”

Caroline gave Eli a sharp glance and threw up her hands. “You guys are missing the point. Brady’s mother has let him down terribly. He now needs to build a nurturing relationship with a woman. He needs a mother.”

“Tuck can give him everything a woman can,” Eli stated stubbornly.

“No, he can’t,” Caroline insisted just as stubbornly. “The first bond a baby makes in life is with his mother. Brady needs to form that bond again. As I said, it’s all about nurturing and women do that. Men don’t.”

“Jesse does just fine with me,” Eli pointed out.

“Well, Eli, Jesse will need nursing as soon as he wakes up. Let’s see if you can do that.”

“I can give him a bottle, Caroline.”

Caroline placed her hands on her hips. “It’s not so much about the nourishment received while nursing but the act itself that encourages the bond. It’s just not the same holding a baby and giving it a bottle.”

“A lot of women choose not to breast-feed. Are you saying they’re not nurturers?”

Caroline’s green eyes flared. “No, I’m not. There’s more to nurturing than breast-feeding.”

“Since Brady’s not breast-feeding, I…”

“Time-out.” Tuck did the time-out sign with his hands. “I don’t want you two arguing about this.”

A wail pierced the long pause and Caroline went to Jesse, lifting him out of the stroller. “Hey, sweetie.” She kissed him. “Are you hungry?” Caroline glanced at Eli. “Would you like to try to nurse him?”

“Sometimes you can be hard-nosed,” Eli replied.

“Like my sister?”

“I didn’t say anything about Grace.”

“Stop it,” Tuck ordered. “I’ll handle the custody hearing and you two stay out of it.”

Jesse’s cries broke through his words. Eli and Caroline hardly ever argued or disagreed and he didn’t want to be the cause of any dissension between them.

“I’m going to nurse Jesse.” Caroline headed for the bedroom.

“I’m behind you one hundred percent,” Eli told Tuck, taking a long swig of beer.

“I know, but I don’t need you guys to take sides. This will be decided by a judge.”

“How’s Brady doing?” Eli asked.

“He’s better, but he’s not talking or responding to people. They’re still running tests on him and Brady’s not leaving the hospital until a complete evaluation is done. That way the Templetons and myself will be aware of what Brady’s problems are and what kind of care he will need.” He swished the beer in his can. “The Templetons have their first visit in the morning. I got a call from Beau a little while ago.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I want what’s best for Brady. That’s my bottom line.” Tuck took a swallow of beer. “And stop arguing with Caroline over it.”

Eli stood, grinning. “Think I’ll go help Jesse nurse.”

In a little while, the Coltranes loaded up and headed back to their house—all lovey-dovey, the way Tuck wanted them to be.

Tuck stared at the phone and thought about calling Grace to apologize. But he knew he needed to do that in person.

G
RACE DIDN
’
T SLEEP MUCH
, and by dawn she knew what she had to do. She showered and dressed, slipping into a black pantsuit and green silk blouse. She brushed her hair and let the waves hang loose around her shoulders. It was a start in breaking the restraints she’d placed upon herself.

It was a start in finding the person within.

She slid her feet into a pair of Prada sling-backs. Shoes weren’t her passion. They were her weakness. And until she found something to replace them, she was allowing herself that indulgence.

By eight she was in her office ready for a meeting with Byron, and then she met with Aaron and soothed his wounded ego. Both men kept staring at her and she ignored their obvious glances at her change of hairstyle.

She checked on the progress of the day care and met with the Licensed Vocational Nurse who was going to run it. At one she was back in her office for a meeting with Lisa and Keith.

Lisa was bubbling over with excitement. “Brady is so beautiful,” she gushed. “He has these big brown eyes. I wished they were blue, but that doesn’t matter. We sat with him for about an hour in the playroom. I helped him put a puzzle together and it was fun just watching him run around the room. He hit me once when I tried to put the puzzle away. The therapist said he does that a lot. Brady has so much to overcome, but we’re willing to help him, aren’t we, honey?”

“Yes, honey, we are.” Keith gripped his wife’s hand.

“I’m glad things went so well,” Grace said. “The hearing will be set as soon as they have all the results from Brady’s tests.”

“The caseworker told us that a Texas Ranger has also filed for custody.” Keith looked concerned.

“Yes.” She clenched her fingers tightly. “I wanted to talk to you about that. He’s Jeremiah Tucker and he’s Caroline’s brother-in-law.”

“You mean…”

“Yes. He’s a part of our family and I now have a conflict of interest.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve assigned Ann Demott to your case. She’ll do a very good job.”

Lisa wrinkled her nose. “I’d feel so much better with you.”

“I want you to have the best representation possible and since I know both parties that wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“I understand.” Lisa stood. “But I don’t have to be happy about it.”

Grace stood, also. “I’ll walk you to Ann’s office. She’s waiting for you.”

Afterward Grace felt an enormous relief. She would not personally be involved in the proceedings. If Jeremiah lost, she wouldn’t be the bad person. Something about the road less traveled came to mind. That was certainly a road she didn’t want to travel.

G
RACE WORKED LATE
, as always. Driving home, she kept thinking about the little boy whom Jeremiah wanted to adopt. On impulse, she turned and drove to the hospital. She hadn’t planned to, but she suddenly wanted to meet Brady Harper.

The nurse on duty wasn’t too friendly. “I’m sorry, visiting hours are over.”

“I’m Grace Whitten and my firm is representing the Templetons, who have filed for custody of Brady Harper.”

The girl gave her a so-what look.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I would like to meet the little boy.”

“Ranger Tucker put him down about thirty minutes ago. I’m sure he’s asleep.”

“May I just take a peep at him then?” Grace wasn’t sure why this was so important, but something she couldn’t define was spurring her on.

The girl seemed to consider it, and then walked around the station to Grace’s side. “This way, but please be quiet. There are other children in the ward, too.”

“I will.” She followed the girl across the hall to a semidark room with baby beds. A nurse was attending to a baby on the other side of the room. A woman sat in a straight-back chair asleep by another bed where a small girl lay sleeping. The woman’s head was on a pillow propped against the baby bed. Grace glanced at her for a moment, wondering how she could sleep like that.

The nurse stopped by a bed. “This is Brady…oh, he’s awake.”

A little boy sat in a corner clutching a stuffed dog, his gown tangled around his hips. His head had been shaved and Grace saw the medicated sores. She was mesmerized by the big brown eyes staring back at her.

“Brady, what are you doing awake?” the nurse asked him gently.

Brady didn’t move or even blink. He kept staring at Grace.

“He’s met so many new people lately. I think it’s a little overwhelming for him. He doesn’t know who to trust.”

Grace saw the empty baby bottle lying beside Brady. “Maybe he’s hungry,” she suggested, reaching in for the bottle.

Brady made a dive for it, jerking the bottle away before Grace could touch it.

“He’s very territorial,” the nurse said. “I guess he’s had to fight for everything. It’s just so sad.” She took a breath. “We only give him a bottle at night. I’ll get him a little bit more formula and maybe he’ll go back to sleep.”

Grace leaned slightly into the baby bed. “Hi, Brady.” Even in the semidarkness she could see his long dark eyelashes. “My, you have very long eyelashes. See—” she blinked one eye then another “—mine are short and light brown. Maybe we could trade. Would you like to trade eyelashes, Brady?”

One eye blinked. She was almost positive. Leaning closer, she watched him, but he didn’t do it again. She wasn’t sure he’d even done it in the first place.

The nurse brought another bottle. “Do you mind if I give it to him?” Grace asked.

“No, but be aware he doesn’t take it like a normal child.”

Grace took the bottle from her and handed it to Brady. He snatched it from her, retreating to his corner, his eyes watching her.

“Wow. That was fast.”

“Yes,” the nurse replied, glancing at her watch. “I have to give a doctor a report. Maybe when I come back, he’ll be ready to go to sleep.”

“Do you mind if I stay here?”

“No. Just don’t try to take him out of the bed.”

“Sure.” Grace placed her purse on the floor, never taking her eyes off Brady’s wary ones. She leaned over the railing again and patted the mattress. “Wouldn’t you like to lie down? I have a nephew and he likes it when I rub his back. Would you like me to rub your back, Brady?”

No response. But he scooted closer to her, sucking hungrily on the nipple.

She reached out and touched his leg. He pulled it back.

“Lie down, Brady, and go night-night.” This time he frowned at her.

“Rock-a-bye, Brady,” she began to sing softly. After a couple of choruses, Brady lay on his side then turned onto his stomach. Grace pulled the blanket over him and rubbed his back slightly. He slapped her hand away.

“Rock-a-bye, Brady,” she continued to sing, watching his precious little face.