Authors: Samantha James
The woman was beginning to sound a little
agitated. "Look," Jenna said evenly, choosing her words carefully.
"I'm really not here to cause trouble, but don't you think you
should let Ward decide whether he wants to talk to me?"
"I'm not lying," the woman defended herself.
"He isn't here and I couldn't say when he'll be back. I only
stopped by this morning to check on the house while he's away."
"Where is he?"
"New Mexico. He's working on an irrigation
project there."
New
Mexico
...Lord, and she'd come so far
already. Her muscles tensed with an emotion she wasn't yet ready
to name. "I see," she said slowly. "Is Robbie with
him?"
"No. He's staying with me. But please don't
ask to see him. I couldn't possibly agree without Ward's
permission."
Jenna's body went limp with despair. "I
understand." Her voice sounded as hollow as she felt inside. She
wasn't such a fool that she didn't know that engineering projects
sometimes lasted weeks, months even. But suddenly there was a
glimmer of life inside her. Surely Ward wouldn't leave Robbie for
weeks at a time. "Do you expect him back soon?" She made no attempt
to disguise her hopefulness.
There was a heavy sigh on the other end of
the line. "I'm really not sure. Early next week maybe, but as 1
said before, I'm not certain." It was obvious the admission was
made with great reluctance. "I'll let Ward know you're here... if
you decide to wait around that long. Where are you staying?"
"I'll be here," Jenna promised in a low
voice. "I'm at the Sundowner Motel." She paused. "Mrs.
Swenson...?"
"Yes?"
"I—thank you. Thank you for telling me."
The moment stretched out into a taut silence.
When Eileen Swenson finally spoke, her voice sounded oddly
strained. "Don't thank me yet. For all I know, you may have made
the trip for nothing."
Jenna stared pensively out the window after
hanging up the phone. The shimmering sunlight outside seemed a
stark contrast to the dark emptiness of her mood. Apparently, all
the odds were stacked against her. It had all started with her
vague, restless feelings about Neil, and then he had warned her
against coming. Then her car had broken down, and now—this. Megan
was dead, and Jenna had been so certain she would let her see
Robbie. It would be days before Ward returned, a hollow voice
inside her protested. Better to go home now and forget she had ever
come, forget she had even tried to see Robbie, forget he had ever
been born.
But she couldn't. Dear Lord, she
couldn't.
Refusing to give in to that tiny voice, Jenna
got up, grabbed her purse and walked outside. Dispiritedly she
walked the few blocks to the town's business district. There was
more to the town than she had originally thought; she noticed at
least three drugstores, a steakhouse and several more small cafes,
one small but complete department store, one clothing shop, even a
movie theater and a playhouse. All the amenities of a city, Jenna
thought to herself halfheartedly, but without quite the variety to
choose from.
Her steps eventually took her back to the
motel, and Jenna found herself driving toward the Garrison place.
The directions she'd been given earlier unconsciously guided her.
Before she knew it, her car was parked in the gravel drive and her
feet were carrying her toward the front door. Her footsteps echoed
emptily as she mounted the steps, and for a fraction of a second,
she stopped before lifting her hand to the brass knocker.
Silence greeted her.
After a long moment of almost fearful
waiting, she turned and trudged slowly down the steps, her
emotions so tangled that she felt unable to sort through them.
Taking a deep breath, Jenna forced her
attention back to her surroundings. Beyond the cross-fenced
boundaries of the small acreage the plains stretched for miles,
rolling and clipping endlessly, glinting yellow in the bright
September sunlight. In the distance she could see the sun-baked,
gently rolling hills to the west. Settling herself under a towering
cottonwood tree, she turned her eyes once again to the two-story
farmhouse.
The yard was well kept, and the white
clapboard exterior of the house looked newly painted. Although it
was quiet outside, there was a warm, homey look to the house
itself. A wide swing hung from the porch rafters near the front
window. Jenna could almost visualize the inside, cheerful and cozy,
a comfortable sofa laden with pillows in the living room, thick
braided rugs covering the floor and knickknacks and treasures
strewn throughout. The urge to scramble to the window and peer
through the sheer curtains was so strong that she almost succumbed.
Only the feeling that she would be spying, intruding where she had
no business, prevented her from doing exactly that.
The thought sent a chill through her. Why had
she come here? She agonized silently. Despite what Eileen Swenson
had told her—that Megan was dead and Ward was gone—had she really
believed it? Had she really expected the door to be thrown open and
to be welcomed with open arms? She shivered. No. She could never
expect that from Ward. She didn't know how she knew, but she
did.
What if he said no? What would she do then?
Could she deal with it, or would she handle it the way she had
handled h all this time, sweeping her feelings under the rug once
more? Denying the hopeless longing to see her child, to hold him,
to know him? All these months—years!—she hadn't let herself think
of him, but no matter how hard she tried, the memory was always
there, lurking in some distant corner of her mind. Denied but never
forgotten. For the first time, she realized how desperately afraid
she was that Ward would refuse to let her see Robbie.
But her need outweighed her fear by far.
"Oh, Robbie," she murmured faintly,
fervently. "I'm so close." Slowly she closed her eyes, unable to
stop a wave of despair from sweeping through her. She heard words
spinning through her brain—words she couldn't speak. So near and
yet so far.
Her entire body trembled as
she stumbled to the car and started the engine. She drove back to
the motel in the same trancelike state she had left it. Outside,
the small town went about its business while Jenna shut herself
away in her room.
Neil...Megan...Robbie
... Faces
whirled through her imagination, the features obscure and blurred.
The squall of a newborn infant resounded in her subconscious and
she flinched.
Finally she stumbled over to the bed and lay
down, her body curled in a tight ball. She knew she desperately
needed an outlet for all the pent-up emotion inside her, but as
always, the tears refused to come. All the pain was tightly locked
up inside her, and her heart was an unbearable weight in her
chest.
***
It was nearly dark when the wheels of the
small Cessna touched down in a perfect landing on the small
airstrip just outside Plains City. Skimming across the smooth
surface, the plane gently glided to a stop in front of the metal
barn that served as a hangar. Moments later, a lean figure emerged
from the building and strode toward the house. Though the man was
rapidly approaching forty, a rangy, muscled hardness to the
six-foot-three-inch frame had not yet been softened by the
years.
Though Ward Garrison was tired and weary to
the bone, a kind of hurried impatience marked his long- legged
stride as he took the porch steps two at a time, heading with
intent toward the den.
The room was paneled in knotty pine, and
sparsely but comfortably furnished. Bookshelves lined nearly every
available wall space. The only decoration was a pair of old
flintlock rifles mounted above the stone fireplace. Near the window
stood a worn leather armchair that had seen many years of use. A
massive desk dominated the room, and Ward directed his steps toward
it.
The chair behind the desk creaked a protest
as he sat down. He made no move to reach for the phone; instead
his hazel eyes rested on the framed photograph that occupied a
place of honor on the desktop. A shuttered look came over his face
as he picked up the oak frame, studying the fragile features in the
photo as if to memorize them. But there was little need. Even
without the reminder of those laughing blue eyes and silky blond
hair, the image was printed indelibly on his brain. She looked so
happy and carefree.... And it seemed like a lifetime ago that he
had felt that way.
"Megan," he said aloud. And then he wished he
hadn't, as the familiar tightening began to build in his chest. He
took a deep, shuddering breath, but long minutes passed before he
set aside the photograph and leaned back in his chair.
"Oh, Meg," he murmured faintly. "Sometimes
it's still so hard to believe you're gone—" She had been a part of
his life for so long... forever. And then a quirk of fate, a moment
in time... and she was no more.
His eyes flitted to a
smaller picture, but one no less dear to his heart. He felt a surge
of pride and possessiveness. His son. His own flesh and blood, the
one bright spot left in his life. The son Megan wanted so badly but
wasn't able to have. Despite the brief time allotted to them, no
one could have been a better mother to Robbie than Megan. She
was
1
his
mother, the only mother he had ever known.
Ward's eyes grew unusually soft as he reached
out a finger and traced the outline of the miniature features so
like his own. Robbie had his bold nose, the same square jaw line.
But his eyes... those vivid green eyes could belong to only one
person.
The reminder was one he had learned to live
with. Not that he was ungrateful... but there were times when he
was strangely resentful of the woman who had given him his son, as
well as of the fact that his own wife could never hope to
conceive...while it had been so simple for her. And there were also
times when Robbie would look up at him, his eyes unusually serious
and urgent, yet so full of life and expression, and he felt a brief
surge of anger jolt through his body, because he looked so damned
much like her.
Ward reached for the phone and punched out a
number. "Eileen?" He swiveled around in the chair to stare out the
window. "It's me."
"Ward!" Mild surprise was registered in his
sister's tone. "Are you home already?"
One side of his mouth quirked upward. "I
pushed the crew as hard as I pushed myself so we could finish ahead
of schedule."
"Well, thank heaven you don't do near as much
traveling as you did five years ago." There was a brief pause.
"It's hard on Robbie with you gone, as young as he is. He tries not
to let it show, but I can tell."
"I know." There was a bitter edge to his
smile. "You wouldn't believe how much I miss him. But with Tyler
breaking his leg and laid up in the hospital, I had no choice but
to fill in for him." He lifted a hand to smooth his rumpled dark
hair. "Is Robbie still up?"
"No. I put him to bed right after dinner."
Eileen's voice was full of apology.
Ward's smile was halfhearted at best, but he
disguised his disappointment. "Well, don't bother waking him.
I'll be over tomorrow to pick him up."
"Don't hurry on my account." Eileen laughed.
"You know Robbie—always where the action is. And if there's nothing
going on, he creates a little excitement of his own. But he keeps
me busy and I love haying him around. The house is so empty with
Tim and Katie away at college." She stopped for a second. "But I'm
really glad you came back early. Frank's going to a cattle auction
in Amarillo on Monday, so maybe I'll go along and do some
shopping."
He nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow, then—"
"Ward, wait! There's something you should
know—"
The sudden urgency in Eileen's voice stopped
him from hanging up. Frowning, he spoke into the mouthpiece again.
"Yes?"
"Ward..." Her voice dropped, and she seemed
unsure of something. "I was at the house today to pick up the mail,
and... someone called."
Something in her tone brought his tired
senses fully alert. He leaned forward in his chair and asked in a
clipped voice, "Who?"
It was a full minute before Eileen spoke. He
could scarcely make out her muted tones. "Jenna Bradford."
"Jenna Bradford!" Ward sat back
disbelievingly, his fingers tensing around the phone. "What did she
want?"
Eileen was silent, hesitating just a moment
too long, but somehow he already knew. "Robbie."
His insides were suddenly tied up in knots.
Why now, after all this time... ? "What else did she say?"
"Nothing really." Eileen sounded just as
confused as he felt. "She just said she didn't want to cause
any
trouble—but wants to see Robbie. And she's
staying until she talks to you about it."
"Staying? You mean she's here?" He felt as if
he'd been struck.
"Yes. She's at the Sundowner Motel in Plains
City." An empty silence hung in the air as their thoughts veered in
the same direction. "Ward, do you think...?" Eileen swallowed,
almost afraid to say the words aloud. "Do you think she wants him
back?"
"If that's the case, she won't be long in
discovering she'll have one hell of a fight on her hands," he said
grimly, "because I'm not about to let anyone take my son away from
me. And the sooner she finds that out, the better." On that
unrelenting note, Ward slammed down the phone and walked out the
door.
There was no point in putting it off—he
intended to find out exactly why Jenna Bradford was visiting.
***
The evening stretched out emptily after
Jenna finally roused herself. She must have fallen asleep, she
thought vaguely, switching on the bedside lamp. Sitting up, she
glanced at her watch. It was just after nine. A dull ache throbbed
in her temples, and she stumbled to the bathroom to splash some
cold water on her face. As she dried her hands, she studied her
reflection. She looked strained and rather drawn, her eyes the only
splash of color in an otherwise pale face.