A Baby by Christmas

“Yes, but Ben is comfortable with Peggy and Carl. He knows them and they know how to take care of him.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I might not get my son?”

“As I told you, a judge will make that decision, but I want you to be aware of this new development.”

He gulped in a breath at the injustice of it all and then anger quickly overtook him. It seemed as if they were conspiring to keep him from Ben, and he wasn’t letting that happen. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned in close to Ms. Woods’s face. “You came looking for me, lady, and you found me. I’m Ben’s father and I want to see him…now.”

“I have every intention of taking you to Ben,” she said crisply.

Jake straightened. “Good. Let’s go.”

Ms. Woods let out a long sigh. “I have to make arrangements with the Fosters. We can’t barge in on them.”

“Okay, make the arrangement.” He tried to remain calm.

“Mrs. Carr lived in Houston, as I told you, and that’s a four-hour drive. We may not be able to do it until tomorrow.”

Jake glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back at one. That’ll give you enough time to inform the Fosters that I’m coming.” He turned toward the door.

“Mr. McCain, I can’t—”

“One o’clock, Ms. Woods,” he said, and closed the door.

ELISE WAS HAVING A BAD morning. Her eyes were red and puffy and makeup hadn’t helped. She should have been at the university by now, but she couldn’t seem to pull herself together. Jake was gone and he wasn’t coming back; she couldn’t get past that and the hateful things he’d said.

She went into the closet to get her gray suit jacket and saw Jake’s clothes…a couple of pairs of jeans and a few shirts. He also had some socks and underwear in a drawer. In six months of marriage, that was all Jake had brought to her house. It was as if he’d been visiting her, and in a way she supposed he was. Now that visit was over. A shiver ran through her as she moved to the bedroom for her briefcase and purse. Picking up her purse she saw the magazines by the nightstand…magazines with articles on conception. She dropped her purse and gathered an armful and headed for the garage. She wouldn’t be needing them anymore. Jake was gone and so was her dream of a baby. She made three trips to dump the magazines in the garbage.

With the last few in her hands, she straightened to see Derek’s picture on the nightstand. Suddenly Jake’s words echoed through her head. “How do you think it makes me feel to make love to you with his picture on your nightstand? You should’ve had enough consideration for my feelings to remove it. You’ve never considered my feelings or much of anything else where I’m concerned.”

Oh my God. The magazines dropped to the floor at her feet as a fog lifted from her mind and she could see her insensitive actions clearly. Oh my God. Her legs trembled and she sank onto the bed. What had she done? Up until this very moment, she had never seen anything wrong with having Derek’s picture in their bedroom. And it was very wrong. She could see that now. Why couldn’t she before? Maybe she was more like her mother and Judith than she’d ever imagined, because the insensitivity of her own behavior bordered on cruelty. Yet Jake had never said a word until yesterday. Why not? He wanted a child as much as she did; that was the only reason that made sense. And now he had a child—a little boy named Ben. She wondered if Jake had seen his son. What was Ben like?

Tears welled up but she refused to cry. She couldn’t. She had a class to teach and she had to get moving, although her body wasn’t cooperating. All she could see was Jake’s face, and she knew she had to apologize. But how could she explain the mental fog she’d been in? By being honest. Years of grieving had clouded her thinking. Jake’s words had brought her to her senses.

She stood and turned Derek’s picture facedown. He was dead. She had to accept that, as Jake had said, and she had to get on with her life…a life without Jake…or a baby. She picked up her purse and walked toward the door, trying not to think about Jake. But she knew he’d be in her every thought.

JAKE THOUGHT THE SITUATION OVER. He now knew what Ms. Woods had been hiding—Ben was not a normal little boy. His mind reeled from the revelation and he tried to stay focused on the main objective. The Fosters wanted to adopt his son—a son who had problems, severe problems. As easy as that would make his life, he couldn’t even consider the possibility. Ben was his flesh and blood, and even though he’d need special attention, Jake would do everything he could to be the boy’s father. Because he was.

He decided he needed a lawyer. If he had to fight for custody of Ben, he’d need a good one. He drove straight to Beau’s office. Beau specialized in family law and Jake knew his brother could help him, give him some advice. He’d never been to Beau’s office, since Beau always visited him at the farm. They met for dinner every now and then, but other than that, they had very little contact. Jake knew that was his fault. He couldn’t face seeing his mother.

He located Beau’s office on the fourth floor of a tall glass structure. A young woman at the reception desk smiled at him as he entered.

“I’d like to see Beau McCain, please,” he said.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked politely.

“No.”

She flipped through a book. “He has an opening on Friday at two.”

Jake frowned. “I need to see him now.”

“He’s with someone and—”

Her words faded away as Jake headed down the hall to find Beau.

“Come back here.” The young woman ran after him, but Jake didn’t stop. He heard Beau’s voice, tapped on the door and went in.

As he did, his stomach caved in with such force that it cut off his breathing. His mother was there talking to Beau. He hadn’t seen her in twenty-eight years—not since the day she’d left the farm and him behind. He’d made a point of not seeing her, of not having anything to do with her, and he’d succeeded until today.

Just like that, his childhood flashed through his mind, his mother reading to him, singing to him, kissing his forehead, patiently helping him with homework, and from out of nowhere the taste of her cinnamon rolls made his mouth water. Then just as quickly those good feelings slammed into a wall of pure pain—the pain of her betrayal—and that was all he felt. All he could remember.

“Mr. McCain, I tried to stop him.” Numbly the receptionist’s voice penetrated his mind.

“It’s okay, Cindy,” Beau said as he came around his desk. “I’ll take care of this.”

Jake wanted to turn and leave, but his feet wouldn’t move. When he was younger, he used to dream of things he’d say to his mother if he ever saw her again, but those words were locked away so deep, under layers of heartache and resentment, that he couldn’t dredge them up.

Almost in slow motion he watched his mother get up from the chair and walk toward him. The pain in his chest intensified and he was beyond thinking. Don’t speak to me, screamed through his head.

But her words came as soft and sweet as he remembered. “I was just leaving. It’s good to see you, Jake.” She stared at him a moment before walking out the door.

She didn’t look any older than she had years ago, Jake thought inanely, except for the gray in her hair.

Beau closed the door and glared at Jake. “Would it have killed you to say hello?”

Jake was still having a hard time finding his voice.

“When are you going to let go of the past?” Beau snapped.

Air swished back into Jake’s lungs. “Some things can’t be forgiven.”

“Like what?”

“Like a mother leaving a ten-year-old boy.”

Beau shook his head. “You have a convenient memory, Jake. You refused to go with us. Remember?”

He remembered it vividly. His mother begging and pleading with him, but his father had already told him what she’d done. She was leaving him for Andrew Wellman. “I remember a lot of things,” he said harshly.

“Do you remember Mom had custody and could have forced you to go, but she didn’t? She knew how much you loved the old man and how loyal you were to him. In the end, she couldn’t hurt you anymore. She let you stay and I don’t think she’s ever forgiven herself for that.”

Jake had had all he could take. “She chose to leave. I remember that. Or is your memory convenient, too?”

Beau threw up his hands. “What do you want, Jake? I’m tired of talking to a stone wall.”

Ben—he was here about Ben. For a paralyzing moment he’d forgotten that. Now he wasn’t sure if he wanted Beau to help him or not. Too much tension existed between them, and he needed someone willing to fight for him. Was Beau that person?

“Since you’ve never been to my office before it must be important,” Beau said, moving back to his desk.

“Yes, it is,” Jake admitted. “But I’m having second thoughts now.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s awkward.”

“I don’t feel awkward. Do you?”

Jake didn’t answer as he took the seat his mother had vacated. Awkwardness or tension didn’t matter. What mattered was his son. He told Beau about Ben.

Beau eyes widened. “You have a son?”

“Yes, and the Fosters, the people caring for him, want to adopt him.”

“How bad is Ben’s health?”

“I’m hoping to meet him this afternoon and determine that for myself. Ms. Woods is trying to set it up and from what she’s said, Ben needs lots of care and attention.”

“And you’re willing to do that?”

“Of course I am. He’s my son.”

Silence, then Beau asked, “And Elise?”

Jake swallowed. “She’ll be filing for divorce.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t dwell on it. I have to move forward for Ben.” That was his one goal. As long as he had that, the pain wasn’t so bad.

“I have to be honest,” Beau said. “It would go a hell of a lot better if she was with you.”

“She won’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Dammit, Beau, I’ll be fighting for my son alone. That is all you need to know.” He wasn’t discussing his marriage with Beau or anyone else.

“Okay,” Beau muttered.

Jake’s eyes caught Beau’s. “What are my chances?”

“If Ben has severe problems and these people know how to care for him and he’s familiar with them, a judge’ll think twice before removing him from their home. Being the biological father carries a lot of weight, though. I’ll look up some case law and see if we can even the odds.”

“Thanks, but…”

“But what?”

Jake had trouble expressing what he felt. He cleared his throat. “I want what’s best for Ben and I feel that’s being with me, but I haven’t seen him yet. The Fosters might be able to give him more than I can. If that’s the case, I’ll have to leave him there.”

A slight grin tugged at Beau’s mouth.

Jake frowned. “Why are you smiling?”

“I was thinking that to do what’s best for your son, you might have to relinquish your claim on him—like Mom did with you.”

Jake drew in a long breath. “I don’t want to get into that again.”

“There’re two sides to every story, Jake. One of these days, you might want to hear the other side.”

Jake stood. “I’d better go. I want to be ready when Ms. Woods calls.”

“Call me after you see Ben and let me know your decision.”

“All I can think right now is that I want my son,” Jake said. “That won’t change unless Ben is in such bad shape that I’m unable to handle him. I don’t know anything about kids, but I’m willing to learn. I’m bracing myself for the worst and hoping I can be the father Ben needs. He may need more than me, though. That’s what I have to find out.” He moved toward the door. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Jake.” Beau stopped him.

Jake turned back.

“Give me the word and I’ll fight for you any way I can.”

They stared at each other, two brothers with different points of view bound together by blood—the most powerful connection in the world.

“Thanks,” Jake replied, and walked out.

CHAPTER FOUR

WHEN JAKE WALKED INTO the kitchen, the phone was ringing. He immediately picked it up. Ms. Woods’s voice came through, clear and impatient. “Mr. McCain, I’ve set up a meeting for four o’clock today. Is that fast enough?”

“Yes, thanks.” He felt a moment of relief.

“I’ll meet you at the office in Houston. The address is on the card I gave you. When you get to Houston, Mrs. Turner, head of our department, will want to explain the situation more fully.”

When were they going to stop explaining things to him and just let him see his son? “Fine,” he said.

“Try to get there a little after three. I know that’s rushing it, but—”

He cut her off. “I’ll be there, and thanks again, Ms. Woods.”

As he hung up, a sense of excitement ran through him. He was finally meeting Ben—his son—and he didn’t have any time to waste. It was already after eleven. He ran into his aunt Vin on the patio.

“Where’re you going in such a rush?” she asked.

Jake grinned. “To see my son.”

Aunt Vin patted his shoulder. “That’s wonderful. When will you bring him home?”

The grin left his face. “It’s a long story and I’m in a hurry. We’ll talk tonight.”

“I’ll be at bingo,” she shouted after him.

“I’ll talk to you in the morning, then.”

“Okay. Drive carefully.”

Jake made a stop at the barn to talk to Mike, to check if there were any problems he couldn’t handle. There weren’t. The machines were out of the fields and the cotton was stored in modules waiting to be taken to the gin. Wags jumped into the truck.

“Sorry, boy, you can’t go,” Jake said, pulling him out by the collar.

Wags whined in protest.

“You can ride with Mike and I’ll be home tonight.”

With Wags barking loudly, Jake climbed into his truck and within minutes he was on the highway to Houston.

He didn’t know what he’d find when he arrived, but as he’d told Beau, he was preparing for the worst. Ms. Woods hadn’t said Ben was mentally challenged. He was just slow. Did that mean the same thing? He wasn’t sure and it didn’t matter. Ben was his son and he’d love him no matter what.

Sherry crossed his mind and Jake wondered again how she could have abandoned her own son. He grunted. What was he thinking? Women abandoned children all the time—children who didn’t have anything wrong with them—like his mother had abandoned him. He still felt a queasiness in his belly from just seeing her. Beau had said there were two sides to every story, but he was wrong. His father had been a hardworking man who loved his family, and his mother had had an affair and become pregnant. She had destroyed a home and a family and Jake couldn’t see any other side than that.

Gently rolling hills, dense woods, farms and ranches flashed by as he drove through Hearne to College Station to Navasota and hit Highway 290 into Houston. The highway merged with Loop 610 South, and as he negotiated heavy traffic, that sense of excitement returned. He couldn’t stop thinking how much more thrilled he’d be if Elise was with him, but she wasn’t.

He wondered how she was. He’d purposefully tried not to think about her, which was impossible because she was always there at the back of his mind. Had she seen an attorney yet? Probably, he decided. What they’d shared was something basic to her. To him, it had developed into something much more.

He had been so shocked when she’d called and asked him out. He didn’t date women like Elise Weber—beautiful, educated and with an air of being untouchable. He preferred women who were soft and natural. Not that Elise wasn’t those things. She just seemed way out of his reach. That was his first impression, but then he got to know her and she was a completely different person. He responded to her warmth and vitality. They seemed to be able to talk forever. He wasn’t a guy who liked to talk, but with her it came easy.

He shifted uncomfortably as he realized Elise had been in control from the start. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t have any problem getting him. Hell, after that first date, he wanted her like crazy. Elise had been a big surprise in the bedroom. Her cool professorial facade disappeared into a warm, inviting woman, and that sensuality blinded him to the problems in their marriage. Her dead husband’s picture on the nightstand was a big example. So many times he’d resisted the urge to knock the damn thing to the floor, but he respected her enough not to do that. He kept waiting for her to remove it. That never happened. And it hurt. His feelings didn’t matter to her.

He didn’t have to worry about Elise, though. She’d be fine because her emotions weren’t involved—not the ones that counted, anyway. It bothered him that he’d hurt her, and it would be a while before he’d lose the feelings he had for her…if ever. She loved someone else and she’d told him that up front. That didn’t keep him from falling for her. But it kept him locked in a pain of his own choosing.

IT WAS TEN AFTER THREE by the time Jake found the office. This office was basically the same as the other, only much larger and there were people in the waiting area. He told the woman at the desk who he was and took a seat. In a few minutes Ms. Woods came out and he followed her into an inner office where an older, gray-haired woman sat at a desk. She stood and shook Jake’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. McCain,” she said. “I’m Gail Turner and I worked with Carmen on Ben’s case when his mother left him at the hospital.”

“Then you know Ben very well?” he asked, taking a chair by the desk.

Mrs. Turner resumed her seat and Jake had a feeling he was in for some cold, hard truths.

“Yes. After Mrs. Carr was granted custody, we checked on Ben for several months and saw that she was very capable of caring for him. We didn’t become involved again until Mrs. Carr called us two months ago. She knew she was dying and she asked us to locate Ben’s father.” She paused. “We weren’t aware until this morning that the Fosters want to adopt Ben. They knew we were searching for the father and they never gave us any indication that adoption was a possibility. But in all fairness I have to admit that they know Ben and his routine and they care for him deeply.”

Jake frowned. “Are you saying the Fosters would be better for Ben than me?”

“A judge will make that decision,” she replied coolly.

Same old line. “On your recommendation.”

“Well, yes, our recommendation will weigh heavily in the decision.”

Jake chose his words carefully. “So, Mrs. Turner, what you’re trying to tell me in not-so-subtle terms is that Ben would be better off living with the Fosters.”

Mrs. Turner clasped her hands on the desk. “Dr. Howard Ruskin, Ben’s doctor, a developmental pediatrician, feels very strongly that it would be detrimental for Ben to be moved out of his familiar surroundings at this time. After several visits with Ben, I have to agree with him. Ben’s taken a step backward because of Mrs. Carr’s death. I’m not sure how much he understands. All he knows is that his grandmother’s gone and he’s retreated into himself. The Fosters are working with him and I’m hoping to see some signs of improvement.”

“But you haven’t?”

“No. He was walking everywhere. Now he stumbles and falls. Mrs. Carr had him talking, but now he won’t say a word.”

“What does Dr. Ruskin say about Ben’s falling and refusal to talk?”

“That he’s grieving and needs some time.”

Jake’s stomach curled into a knot. “You mentioned you didn’t know how much Ben understood. What I’m asking is whether he’s mentally challenged.”

“At first the doctors thought so, but Mrs. Carr refused to believe that. The doctors also thought Ben would be a vegetable and Mrs. Carr proved them wrong. Ben was working on his ABCs and numbers and he was able to repeat them. Mrs. Carr felt he had the ability to learn. He just has to try harder, and I must admit I agree with her. The bottom line, Mr. McCain, is that we want Ben’s progress to continue.”

“I do, too.”

“That’s good.”

Something in her voice alerted Jake. His eyes narrowed.

“You’re not going to try to keep me from seeing Ben, are you?”

“Of course not,” she said. “You’re his father. You have every right to see him, and our goal, whenever possible, is to unite child and parent. But Ben’s case is very different.”

That told Jake more than he wanted to hear. They were pressing him to relinquish his claim on Ben. She hadn’t come out and said it, but it was there in her voice. He stood. “I understand the situation, Mrs. Turner, and now I’d like to see my son.”

“Sure,” she nodded. “Carmen will take you to the Fosters’.”

“One more thing,” he added before leaving. “I want Ben to know that I’m his father.”

Mrs. Turner glanced at Ms. Woods. “As I said, we’re not sure how much Ben understands.”

“I still want him to know—to feel that he’s not alone anymore.”

She seemed to hesitate, then nodded again. “It’s probably best.”

“Thank you,” he said, and left the room.

In the hall Ms. Woods said, “You can follow me over there if you like. I’ll bring my car around.”

Jake did as she asked and tailed her white Corolla through the busy Houston traffic. They made several stops for lights and finally turned into a residential area with brick homes and small landscaped yards. How did people live so close together? He’d grown up with lots of fresh air and space and he wanted Ben to grow up the same way, but it might not be a possibility. He had to prepare himself.

Carmen pulled into a driveway and he parked behind her. Jake glanced at the house. Very neat and clean, he thought, then realized she was waiting so he quickly made his way to the front door.

“Mr. McCain,” she said before ringing the bell. “I need to tell you that the Fosters are not pleased by this visit.”

“I’m not pleased that they have my son, but I’m trying to make the best of a bad situation. I hope they’ll do the same.”

She seemed to want to say more then changed her mind. She pushed the doorbell.

A slim, gray-haired man opened the door. Jake guessed he was somewhere in his fifties.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said gruffly.

“Yes, Mr. Foster, we’re here to see Ben,” Ms. Woods replied.

He opened the door wider and they stepped into the foyer. “This is Jake McCain. Carl Foster.” Carmen made the introductions.

“We know who he is, Ms. Woods,” a woman said as she joined them. She was also thin with graying blond hair. The expression on her face was unfriendly. Jake received that message loud and clear.

“This is Peggy Foster,” Ms. Woods murmured as if nothing had been said, then quickly asked, “Where’s Ben?”

“He’s in the den, but I won’t have him upset,” Mrs. Foster answered.

“We’re not here to upset Ben,” Carmen told her. “We talked about this and I thought you understood.”

“I don’t understand how he can have any rights where Ben is concerned,” Mrs. Foster snapped angrily.

Carl put an arm around his wife and led her to the kitchen. Ms. Woods didn’t say anything and Jake followed her into a large den. His eyes froze on a little boy sitting on a sofa with a pile of Lego blocks in his lap and a tattered teddy bear by his side. He held two pieces in his hands and was trying to fit them together. He looks normal was Jake’s first thought. He wore jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers like other kids. He was small for his age, though. And so thin.

Jake didn’t know what he was expecting, but at the sight of his son he felt as if the sun had burst open inside him, filling him with so much warmth that for a moment all he could do was absorb the wonderful feeling.

Ms. Woods sat beside the boy. “Hi, Ben.”

Ben didn’t answer. He kept fiddling with the plastic pieces.

“I brought someone to see you.”

Still no response.

“Ben, do you hear me?”

Nothing.

“I brought your daddy to see you.”

Ben slowly raised his head and stared at Jake. Jake’s stomach tensed at the sight of that precious face. Ben looked so much like the boy in Jake’s baby pictures, with his sandy brown hair and brown eyes. This was his son. The pain in his stomach shot straight to his heart. His son was waiting, but he couldn’t seem to move.