Forever Mine Page 6
His smile lingered. He never doubted she’d be a super mother someday. He remembered how she’d cared for a motherless calf they’d had that summer she’d worked at the ranch. She’d practically lived in the barn to baby it.
“I suppose it’s useless to talk about the nutritional value of food to someone who consumes enough biscuits and sausage gravy to feed five men,” she said.
He fought another grin. “You still are prone to exaggerating.”
Abby didn’t miss the teasing look in his eyes.
“Isn’t Boston supposed to have great baked beans?” he said.
“There are other things of more importance than food.”
He played along, enjoying the nothing conversation. “Like what?”
“Beacon Hill. Boston Public Gardens. The Boston Common.”
“The Boston Red Sox?”
Abby felt a laugh tickling her throat. “So, in your many travels, when you think of Albuquerque—”
“Indian fry bread.”
“And Milwaukee?”
A desire simply to touch her, her hand, a strand of her hair, her cheek, stormed him. “Beer.”
“You’re impossible.” With a finger, Abby beckoned Austin to join them.
“Do you like ham-and-cheese sandwiches?” Jack asked when Austin scurried to his side.
“With mayonnaise,” Austin told him. “I had a friend whose mom made them with catsup.” He stuck out his tongue to indicate his distaste.
Jack presented the proper scowl. “They really tasted bad?”
“Gross.”
Abby couldn’t help smiling. The chattering went on after they reached the kitchen.
“Do you like milk?” Austin questioned.
Abby sent Jack a you-had-better look.
Standing before the opened refrigerator, Jack handed a package of ham to Austin. “Oh, sure.”
Austin wrinkled his nose. “I don’t. But Mom sometimes lets me make chocolate milk. That’s really good,” he said, following Jack to one of the counters, a loaf of bread dangling from his hand.
At the sink, Abby washed grapes. Beside her, Wendy kept sneaking glances at them while she tossed a huge bowl of salad for dinner.
“Do you like chocolate-chip or oatmeal cookies?” Austin asked.
Jack lathered mayonnaise on bread while Austin placed layers of cheese and ham between the slices of bread. “Chocolate-chip and sandwich cookies, too.” He bent his head and spoke quietly, conspiratorially, to Austin as if about to reveal world-shattering information. “I like to open them and eat the frosting first.”
“Me, too,” Austin whispered back.
“Fruit is packed,” Abby called to them.
“Bag them,” Jack said about the made sandwiches.
Austin sealed the plastic sandwich bags. “No cookies?”
“Got that covered,” Jack assured him, and produced a plastic bag filled with chocolate-chip cookies.
Abby finished packing cans of soda, along with the sandwiches, grapes and cookies, into a picnic basket. Something swelled within her. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow too many days like this. It was as if the three of them were a family.
Jack drove along a back road, past the ranch complex and a meadow of wildflowers, to a small lake surrounded by clusters of trees. The sun had lowered a bit, casting shadows on the land. The glow spread across the distant jagged cliffs, changing the sandy red and green colors to silver and blue.
In the north, fluffy gray clouds gathered. Standing outside the truck, Abby scanned the darkening sky. “It looks as if it will rain again.”
Dropping the tailgate, Jack eyed the sky. “Everyone wants more. They’ve had a drought.”
He’d been home less than a few days, but with that one comment, he revealed that he’d caught up to months of life at the ranch.
With Austin alongside him, he lifted the fishing poles out of the back of the truck and handed one to him. “Did you know your mom is good at this?”
A look that carried a mixture of surprise and incredulity slid over the boy’s face. “Is she really?”
“She won a fishing contest.”
Austin’s eyes went wider. “You won a fishing contest, Mom?”
She mentally groaned. It had been a local contest with only a dozen contestants.
Before she could downplay the achievement, Jack continued. “She won a trophy, too.”
“A trophy? Wow!”
“She always got the biggest fish.” Squatting, Jack bent his head and stared into his tackle box.
“Not always,” Abby insisted. She moved behind him, and over his shoulder she searched in the box for a lure, a favorite purple and yellow salamander. “I always—”
“Liked this one,” Jack finished for her, handing the squiggly rubber lure to her. “I remember.”
“This is the first time I’ve been fishing since I left here.” They’d gone fishing two days before he’d shattered her heart. Oh, what was the point in revisiting the past? She nudged the memory aside, not wanting to spoil the day.
Jack settled with Abby under a giant oak while Austin walked along the bank. He thought the boy seemed content and happy, but how much had his mother sacrificed to make that life for him? “How did you finish your education, Abby?”
Abby swung a look at him, nearly running the hook through her finger. Reliving that time meant sharing with him the months before she’d had Austin. She stared down at her fingertip. “What do you mean?”
“You left here, had the boy?” Not too much time had passed before she’d gotten pregnant. So much for love eternal, Jack reflected. It obviously hadn’t taken her long to forget him. But why wouldn’t she have? He’d never promised anything. He’d never given her reason to hope he would change his mind about what he wanted out of life.
“I had him after I graduated.” She didn’t bother to add that his birth hadn’t been months afterward. Abby thanked fate. Timing had been in her favor. She’d taken finals the week before her baby was due. On the last day of school, six days before her due date, as she’d walked out of her medieval history class, she’d felt the first contraction. She’d gone to the hospital, had Austin. Four days later, she graduated. If Jack asked what Austin’s birth date was, he would know the truth. Austin was closer to eight than six. Proof existed if Jack wanted it.
With Austin’s approach, Jack finished hooking the little boy’s line. “Your mom picked a good lure for you. I always catch fish when I use it.”
Settling beside him, Austin frowned at the wiggly plastic neon-colored worm on his hook. “Do you want it?”
The boy had his mother’s tender heart, Jack mused with a glance Abby’s way. She was staring down at her son with a pleased smile. “Thanks, Austin. But you use it this time. I can use it anytime.”
Like any mother who hoped her child wasn’t disappointed, Abby did some wishful thinking that Austin would catch a fish today. “Did you promise Wendy that we’d bring back some trout?”
Jack cast his line. “She expects chili, not fish. I’m supposed to make a big pot of chili for tomorrow’s ranchers’ meeting.”
Chili was his specialty. He’d won several contests with his recipe.
“Men don’t cook,” Austin piped in.
Jack made brief eye contact with Abby, saw her glower. “Who told you that?” he asked.
“Traci’s dad.”
“Traci’s a friend from school,” Abby explained. She liked the girl, but thought her father needed a few lessons in modern thinking.
“Traci’s dad is wrong,” Jack said. He might have said more, but Austin’s pole arched. “You got something on your line!”
“Mom! Mom!” His face flushed with excitement, Austin scrambled to a stand. “I got something. Mom, I caught a fish.”
Jack didn’t offer to help. “Reel it in,” he told him.
Thrilled for her son, Abby was standing now with Austin. “Bring it in, honey.”
She looked cute, laughing, standing beside her s
on and offering encouragement.
The boy’s face glowed as he brought the fish to the water’s surface. Wiggling, it slapped at the water, fighting for its freedom. He reeled it up, but as the fish kept twisting on the line, he frowned. “Can I let it go?”
Abby knew her son’s sensitivity about animals. If a child’s preferences determined his life’s work, Austin would end up as a veterinarian. “Since we’re not going to eat it, we should let it go,” she suggested.
Jack grinned over Austin’s head at Abby, then looked back at the boy. “Do you want me to?” As if eager to do just that, Austin nodded. While Jack took hold of the fish, then gently eased the hook out of its mouth, Austin never left his side.
“Is it okay?”
“It’s okay. Watch,” Jack said, and let the fish go. Back in the water, it swam quickly out of sight.
Now that he knew it hadn’t been harmed, delight sparkled in Austin’s eyes again. “That was fun.” As he’d do with a new friend, he reached for Jack’s hand to get his attention. “Want a sandwich, Jack?”
“You bet.” He’d never had contact with any child except Jodi, and she was still so little that a dry diaper and a fresh bottle were all she wanted. The boy demanded more, but he also gave more, making Jack laugh, warming him with an unexpected comment.
As Austin raced toward the truck, Abby set down her fishing pole. “I’d better help him, or the sandwiches will be food for the ants.”
They’d been intimate, lovers. She should have been relaxed with him, but Jack sensed she was nervous again. “Are you going to run every time we’re alone?”
Her chin shot up. “I’m not running.”
“Tell me.” He brushed a knuckle across her cheek. After the kiss last night, every moment he’d known with her was a part of him again. “Tell me what you feel. Really feel.”
Abby drew in a calming breath. If he wanted honesty, so be it. “I won’t deny that a part of me has always felt that we left something unfinished because of how you went away.”
Beneath the softness in her voice, he heard her anger.
“But you humiliated me.” There, she’d said it. He couldn’t waltz, in and out of her life on a whim. “Everyone knew you’d left me without a look back. I’d been wearing my heart on my sleeve. Do you really think I would want to do that again?”
That night he’d been numb, so caught up in his own pain that his only thought had been distancing himself from his father.
Abby raised a hand as a breeze, warm and calm, tossed her hair and visually searched for Austin. Outside the truck he was struggling to open a can of soda. “I’d been looking for you when I ran into Ray,” she said to Jack. “He told me you left. Just left. I couldn’t believe you’d do that to me.” No excuse he would give her would matter. The hurt, the heartache, still existed within her.
He caught her arm as she started to move away. “Do you think leaving you, hurting you, was something I planned?”
“I don’t know. I only knew I couldn’t stay, couldn’t face everyone. At daybreak, I went to Sam.” He’d looked so sad, Abby recalled. “I told him that I couldn’t keep working for him.”
“What did he tell you?”
“He said you’d left because of a fight with him. It had nothing to do with me.”
For that he owed his father a thank-you. “But you didn’t believe him?”
She released a mirthless laugh. “I was young, I was hurting.” She’d given her heart to someone who hadn’t cared.
“I never meant to hurt you, Abby.”
It didn’t matter if that was the truth. That he’d left without her, without even a goodbye, had devastated her. She pulled free of his hand as Austin came close with cans in his hands.
“Want a soda, Mom?”
“Thank you, honey.” She took the can, then strolled to the truck for the picnic basket.
Everything had been so mixed up years ago, Jack reflected. From the beginning, they’d both known Abby wouldn’t stay. And back then, guilt about his mother dying when he was born was a part of him. He wouldn’t have wanted Abby to stay, get serious about him.
“Mom likes cucumber sandwiches,” Austin said, grabbing his attention.
Jack dropped to the ground near the blanket they’d spread earlier. “She likes jelly and cheese on toast, too.”
Abby heard his comment and frowned as she saw a quizzical look come into her son’s eyes.
“How’d you know that?” Austin asked, plopping down beside Jack.
Joining them, Abby knelt and unpacked the picnic basket. She wasn’t thrilled that they were talking about her as if she wasn’t there.
“Your mom and I were good friends.”
Austin sent a puzzled look up at Abby. “Aren’t you still?”
Abby unwrapped a sandwich and handed it to him. She knew his tendency to interrogate if something bothered him. “Of course we are.” To give him any other answer meant dozens of questions.
Seeming satisfied with that answer, Austin dug into the picnic basket for the bag of potato chips she’d packed.
With his back against a tree trunk, Jack stretched out his legs and popped the tab on a can of soda. “Have you seen the movie about the monkey that plays basketball?” he asked Austin.
Abby’s head snapped up. When had he become aware of kids’ movies?
Eyes brightening in anticipation, Austin shook his head. “It’s supposed to be real good.”
Sensing where the conversation was going, Abby took control of the moment with a reminder. “I can’t be going off to the movies. I promised to help in the kitchen. Remember?”
Jack aimed a question at Austin. “Would you want to go with me?”
“Could I, Mom?”
Abby started to protest. “I couldn’t ask you to—”
Jack ended his fascination with her lips. “I’m asking Austin.”
Austin’s cheeks reddened with pleasure. “Please, Mom. Pul-eeze.”
Jack, what are you doing? With Austin’s pleading eyes on her, she nodded. “Yes, okay.” Even though she planned not to get involved with Jack, it wasn’t fair to take away Austin’s fun.
“Whoopee. Thanks, Mom.” Exuberantly, Austin hugged her, nearly knocking her over.
Abby managed a smile. Too many soft feelings for Jack were a breath away. If she’d learned anything today, it was that trouble was ahead if they spent any more cozy afternoons like this.
Jack spent an enjoyable evening with the boy. The movie had provided plenty of laughs, and he and Austin stuffed themselves on buttered popcorn and candy.
Back at the ranch by nine o’clock, Jack waited on the back porch steps at the lodge while Austin checked in with Abby. For now, he’d decided to give her the space she wanted, but he planned to have his say. Hurting her had been the last thing he’d meant to do.
“Mom’s still helping Wendy,” Austin announced in unison with the slam of the screen door, then took a seat on the top step beside Jack.
Old habits were hard to break. When he was a kid, the back porch steps had been Jack’s favorite thinking spot.
Sitting close, Austin rattled on with childish delight about the movie they’d seen, then about the “humongous” jar of pickles that he’d eyed in the kitchen minutes ago. “I ate only three of them. Mom said I’d get a bellyache if I had more.”
“Moms are pretty smart that way.”
“My mom is pretty, isn’t she?”
Jack restrained a smile. Was the kid matchmaking, handpicking a guy for his mom? Jack couldn’t help feeling flattered that Austin was considering him. “I think so.”
“Do you like girls?”
“Most of them.”
“I don’t. Except Traci.”
Once again Jack held back a smile. Abby had told him that Traci’s claim to fame was being able to play shortstop. “You will,” he assured the boy.
“Uh-uh.”
“You like your mom, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Austin replied.
“I’m what?” Abby questioned as she walked toward them. She’d overheard the last few comments, but more than their words, it was what she saw that weakened her. Austin had his shoulder snug against Jack’s arm. Her son’s face was full of joy.
Jack winked at Austin before lifting his gaze to Abby. “You’re pretty.”
Austin stood and started down the steps to her. “We both think so.”
Abby accepted the compliment graciously “Thank you.”
“Can I watch TV tonight?” Austin asked.
“It’s tune for bed,” she replied with a shake of her head.
“Aw, Mom.”
Abby ruffled his hair. “Say goodnight, Austin.”
Laughing, he dodged her hand. “Thanks again, Jack, for taking me to the movie.”
“Anytime.”
Abby saw the look in Jack’s eyes and knew he meant what he said.
As if he’d forgotten something, Austin dashed back up the stairs. “Bye, Jack.”
A weak, queasy sensation settled in the pit of her stomach as she watched her son high-five Jack. Her heart felt heavy suddenly. It was so obvious Jack would be a good father. Abby shut her eyes to banish the thought. There was no point in even thinking of him in those terms. She’d burned that bridge long ago.
Chapter Five
Her mind troubled, Abby was glad to get away from the ranch for a little while the next morning. Reading one of his comic books, Austin had been quiet through most of the drive to town. Though she had a dress fitting, she’d promised him an ice-cream soda afterward. Earlier, she’d written a few promised postcards to co-workers at the newspaper, then wrapped a present, a peach peignoir, for the lingerie shower planned for her aunt tomorrow.
Her thoughts turned to Jack and her son. A lack of male companionship was a logical excuse for Austin enjoying himself with Jack, but Abby rarely stuck her head in the sand and ignored the truth. Her son hadn’t responded the same way to any other man she’d dated. With no knowledge that they were father and son, Jack and Austin had become friends quickly.
Squinting against the Saturday-morning sun, she braked for a red light at the edge of town. She should have told Jack when she’d first realized she was pregnant. She’d planned to that night eight summers ago. Then she learned he’d left. The idea of chasing him down had emphasized that Austin’s whole life would be spent trailing after his father. How could he visit him in hotels, this city tonight, another city tomorrow?