Her mama flapped a hand in dismissal. “Oh, I know it’ll be fine. You’ll make it fine, and you’ll do great. But sooner or later, someone’s going to see Hank. Maybe not in Roanoke, although you never know. But definitely here, Annie. Someone who knows Travis or Ruth, someone who’ll put one and one together and make sure the Quincys know what’s what. As much as I hate to say it, the longer you stay in town—”
“Mama, I know it’s a risk. But I’ve barely been back to Thompkin the past two years, and I needed this time at home with all of you. I’ve been careful. Ruth never comes to town. Her phobia seems to be as strong as ever.”
“Anyone could see him and call up to Quincy Hall, honey,” her mama pointed out. “You only have to look at the boy to know who his daddy is.”
Blinking away sudden tears, Annie took her sleeping son and cuddled him in her arms. He sighed into her neck and snuggled as she rocked him gently. Her damp eyes glittered in painful understanding. “Yes, I know. And Ruth will never get her hands on him, Mama, no matter what I have to do. Never.”
Later, as she took her bath, she thought back on the vow she’d made just an hour after Hank’s birth. She ran a soapy washcloth over her face and recalled the tears she’d shed in the hospital room in Roanoke, from wanting Travis to know he had a son. Wrapped up in a soft blue blanket and sleeping like a tiny angel, Hank was a miracle she needed to share with the father of her child.
Even when her family surrounded her in unquestionable support, it still wasn’t easy to pull back from making that phone call. Only her aunt said aloud what every Turner must have thought, as they all watched Hank sleep in her arms.
“He’s gorgeous. And I can see he’s a Quincy, down to his toes. You think it might not hurt to let his daddy know.” Aunt Nan said it right to her face as Annie leaned back against the pillows and tears dampened her cheeks. Aunt Nan shook her head when Annie’s drenched eyes met hers pleadingly, hoping for someone to tell her it was all right to make that call. “But you stay away from the phone, girl. Right now, while your emotions are jumping all around, is the worst time to make any kind of decisions.”
As always, Aunt Nan had been right. Annie rinsed the soap away and reached for her towel, blotting her face. If some of the moisture on her cheeks came from something other than bath water, no one would know but her.
An hour later, she headed into town, Hank babbling away in his car seat. Thompkin always looked the same to her, and she had to smile as she drove toward downtown. It remained a prosperous a place that held onto its original charm while keeping abreast of modernization and growth. Annie knew the Quincy Legacy was responsible for most of what Thompkin enjoyed. The family had worked hard for their town for many generations. It was an onerous duty for Ronald Quincy, and it would be the same for Travis, when it became his turn to take over.
It was still a great place to live and to raise children. Yet, she had no intention of coming back to Thompkin permanently, not until she could be sure her son was safe from Ruth Quincy.
He followed her. How could he stop himself? Travis spotted Annie as he left Nimson’s Drugstore. She drove a compact blue Honda that rounded the corner of North Main, headed toward Market Street. It was pure luck he’d seen her at all, as his attention had been on slipping his wallet back in his pocket.
Travis adjusted the bill of his baseball cap to shield more of his face. He stayed back, not wanting to arouse Annie’s suspicions. Hell, his Beemer was conspicuous enough. He dropped back even further, just in case.
He had no idea what he’d do when she stopped, but he was determined to at least speak to her. He didn’t know if she’d listen to what he needed to say, not after a two-year silence on his part. She’d told him not to contact her again, but it was his choice not to push it. It was the only way he could think to keep his mother’s hatred from tainting her further.
Two years.
Two years of denying himself even the smallest touch of her in his life, all in the name of keeping her and her family safe from his mother’s threats. Without Annie, he was unbearably lonely, but at least he poured most of his concentration into his studies. He would graduate early from Yale, before his twenty-third birthday. He’d crammed three years of classes into two years, no small feat on his part. He hoped the additional year of grad study would speed by just as fast, and he’d be finished.
Then he could inform his mother—and the board of trustees she now controlled—to go to hell. He could get down on his knees if necessary and beg Annie’s forgiveness. Marry her the way they’d always planned to do. And somewhere in the midst of all those plans, he’d push the damned trustees aside and take his rightful place in the Quincy hierarchy. He’d make his dad proud of him. He’d make Annie proud, too.
He was so busy plotting all the ways to impress his loved ones, he almost lost track of Annie. He caught the taillight of her car as it turned off onto the county road that led to Boggy Creek Lane, and Bogg Pond. What the—?
She was going to Bogg Pond. Travis hadn’t been back there since their breakup. It held too many bittersweet memories for him, and whenever he came home, he avoided it, and the inevitable pain of remembering happier times spent there with her.
Suddenly Travis couldn’t think of a better place to confront Annie.
When she pulled off the lane and onto the rocky berm ringing the north edge of Bogg Pond, he stopped his car near the new growth of high marsh grasses. He eased out from the driver’s seat and waited, desperate for his first look at the girl he’d loved for so very long.
She opened her door, stepped out, and flipped her thick braid behind her back as she raised her face to the sky and stretched her arms above her head. Her hair had grown much longer. He could tell it would fall below her waist when loosened from its braid. She’d matured, too. The pretty girl he’d known forever had become a stunning woman.
She spun in a circle, shaded her eyes with a slender hand, in much the same way she’d always done as a girl, when eyeing the calm surface of the water would net her the best pockets to fish for bullhead and pickerel. The memory made him grin.
Then his grin faded into shock when he heard the high, babyish voice in the quiet air.
“Ma-ma! Owd! Owd, Ma-ma!”
She laughed as she turned toward the back seat, opened the door, and leaned inside. He could hear the love in her voice. Then, she lifted out a baby. Black hair curled riotously over his head. He wore a red jacket and blue jeans. Tiny white shoes completed his outfit. She swung him up into her arms, and he squealed out a happy trill of giggles, his pudgy hands clutching her around the neck.
Travis leaned weakly against the car. Annie had a little boy.
His
little boy.
He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He couldn’t believe what was right in front of his eyes. And fast on the heels of that disbelief, came the suddenly bitter acknowledgement that she’d kept their baby’s birth a secret from him.
As Annie carried his son toward the pond and settled on the large flat rock where they used to fish, Travis pushed away from his car on unsteady legs. He wanted answers. He was damned well going to get them.
It’d been a fun, if exhausting, day. Sylvia, Annie’s old boss at the Coffee Hut, served a delicious lunch and monopolized Hank all during the meal. Hank, at his most flirty, loved all the attention he’d gotten from a table full of women. He’d bounced in Sylvia’s lap, gnawed on a few of her French fries, and snuggled against her shoulder, his rosy cheek trustingly pressed to her neck.
All too soon, it was time for them to leave. After she dropped Susan and Mama off at home, she decided to drive around a bit. She hadn’t done much of that since she’d been back in Thompkin.
It was probably a bad idea when she followed her impulses and drove out to Bogg Pond. Here she was, trying to get Travis out of her mind, and yet she headed toward the one place in Thompkin truly their own. She’d stayed away from it, half afraid of the memories and also worried she might run into Travis there. Although she doubted he’d really haunt Bogg Pond out of loneliness for her, she figured there was no sense in taking any chances.
She’d missed the uncomplicated goodness of the wild grasses and the grouping of flat rocks she’d stood on to fish. Memories of those casual dates with Travis, summer after summer, hung in the moist air. Maybe those memories were painful, but they were hers to cherish. They’d helped to form her, helped to strengthen her when she was at her lowest point. Whatever she now called her former relationship with the father of her son, Annie would be forever grateful a boy like Travis had once loved her very much.
The thick humidity surrounded her as she stood by the pond. It smelled the same: ripe, overly green, murky. She shielded her eyes and made her customary pass around the entire pond, grinned when she realized she looked for fish clusters the same as she’d done as a child. Some things never changed.
When Hank demanded to be let “owd,” her smile broadened into complete happiness as she moved to the back of the car and unfastened her son from his seat. Some things
did
change, and wasn’t that a wonderful part of life?
With Hank in her arms, she walked over to the largest flat rock and sat down, snuggling her child as he stared raptly at the rippling water. She bent her cheek to his and laughed when he reached over and wound his fingers into her braid, something he loved to do. She sighed deeply, content, happy to be home for a while longer, happy that Mark and Sissy had decided to come for a visit, too. And the thought of their coming baby, a little nephew or niece she could spoil, added to her happiness. Soon they’d know the joy of being parents—
“Annie.”
Focused on her thoughts, at first she barely heard the low voice that spoke her name. She glanced around, but didn’t see anyone. Hank rested his head on her shoulder and relaxed against her. She sighed again. It must have been the wind in the reeds she heard.
“Annie—”
Closer that time, and recognizable. Oh, no.
Annie whipped around, and faced Travis for the first time in two years.
Dismay, longing, and a touch of fear swamped her as she looked at him. He seemed wider in the shoulder, leaner through the cheeks, taller. His gaze locked on Hank, then flicked to her—and the expression on his face could only be described as hungry.
The urge to hide overwhelmed her, and she scrambled off the rock. She clutched her baby hard in her arms, prepared to run all the way back to Roanoke if she had to.
She’d often thought of this reunion, whatever it could be called. In her imagination, she’d stand firm and tell the only boy she ever loved he couldn’t be a part of his own son’s life. And he’d step aside and let her go. He’d understand why.
In reality, there was nowhere to run. There was nowhere to hide and no way to pretend his father hadn’t seen Hank, was even now staring at him as if he’d like nothing better than to grab him up and take off with him. She trembled as she pressed Hank’s cheek to her shoulder, and met Travis’s stunned gaze with defiance in her own. She’d face whatever accusation he flung at her, and then get the hell out of Thompkin with Hank and never come back.
For endless seconds, Travis looked at his son. She knew what he’d see, the strong Quincy resemblance. She battled the trembles, but she could still feel them, deep inside.
“What’s his name? How old is he?” Travis’s voice held a hoarse rasp. She edged away when his hand moved as if to reach out and touch. He hastily dropped his arm, and she saw his fingers clench, but she refused to feel guilty. Yet she ached to think she couldn’t be sure of his intentions.
Her arms tightened around Hank as she answered his questions, hearing the ring of pride in her words. “His name is Henry. Henry Travis Turner. We call him Hank. And he just turned one in February.”
“Turner. He doesn’t have my last name?” It was as much a question as a statement. This time when he extended a hand toward his son, Annie allowed it. He touched one of the silky curls that lay against Hank’s forehead.
She took a deep breath. “No. He doesn’t. I won’t apologize for not using your last name on the birth certificate, Travis.”
“You hid him from me.”
“Yes. I’m not apologizing for that, either.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
She looked away. “I don’t know. Probably not, at least not for a few years.” She knew her frank admission wounded him. “You know why I wouldn’t have told you.”
He released a heavy sigh. “My mother. She’d have been—I don’t even know. That’s the entire reason. Isn’t it?”
Annie nodded and adjusted Hank on her hip, cuddling him closer as he sagged in her arms. Honesty was innate to her, and now that Travis knew most of it, she wouldn’t lie to him any longer. “Yes, the biggest part of it. Look, I have to sit down. He’s heavy when he sleeps.” She moved back to the rock, perched on the rough surface, and rested the baby against her chest. Travis crowded next to her, close enough to touch. He rubbed his finger along Hank’s hand.
She wouldn’t go easy on Travis. “I’ve stayed away from Thompkin for a long time. Right after I found out I was pregnant. I finally came back for a visit because I missed my family. I guess it was stupid of me to think you’d never find out about Hank.”
It was hard to dredge up the pain from the last time she’d seen him. “When you left that day, I figured I’d never see you again. Maybe I told you to go, but you said you wouldn’t stop seeing Catherine Cabot, wouldn’t tell your mother where she could stuff her control of you. I ceased to be the most important person in your life. It broke my heart.”
She raised a hand to cut him off when he tried to protest. “You can’t deny it. You would have continued to see me, but in secret, as if I needed to be hidden away. All of the promises we made to each other didn’t seem to mean a thing to you, and that hurt most of all.”
“Annie—”
“I’m not through.” She hitched the baby higher on her shoulder. “I understood you had to finish what you’d started. I know how important Yale was to you. I wasn’t asking you to change your life, Travis, just to keep me in it, and do that out in the open, proud of what we had together. That was all I wanted. Suddenly you seemed to be ashamed of me, and it hurt, badly.”
She pressed a hand against Hank’s neck to support him as he dozed. “When I found out I was pregnant, I did the only thing I could do to protect my baby. I moved away, and I made a life without you. I’ll tell you honestly: if I’d been carrying a girl, I’d have gotten hold of you as soon as I had the ultrasound printout in my hand. Your mama wouldn’t have cared one way or another about a little girl. Would she?” Her voice remained calm and matter-of-fact, but her insides quaked as she waited for his response.
“Annie . . .”