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  “It’s not my fault she hid him from me!” Brandon pulled his hand from hers and slapped the open palm on the table. The skin on his hand felt abruptly cold where her hand had been.

  Hannah was unmoved at the display of emotion. “It’s not his fault, either.”

  She was right about that, at least. And it wasn’t really Mercedes’ fault. Both of them had made serious mistakes, but none had been deliberate.

  “So what exactly did his mother say? Does she want you out of his life completely?”

  “She says I should visit, e-mail. Until after high school.”

  Hannah heaved a sigh that visibly made her chest move. “Brandon, I sympathize with you, I really do. You know I’ve been supportive since I heard about your son. But now that I’m here, I’m suddenly seeing this child”—she nodded toward the pictures—“as if he were one of the many children who come through my office. I can’t tell you what’s right, but if he were my son, and if I were in Mercedes’ position, I think I’d feel the same way she does. When all is said and done, he’s still just a little boy who needs his mother.”

  Brandon shook his head and leaned back in his chair, as far away from her words as possible. “I won’t give up.”

  “I’m not telling you to give up. Just think about it. You’ll figure out the right thing to do. You don’t want to have any regrets.”

  Brandon drew in a swift but silent breath. Dustbottom had said nearly the same thing to him, though Brandon felt he’d been encouraging him in the opposite direction as Hannah seemed to be. Why was it all so convoluted? In the end was he trying to avoid regrets or to avoid only the greater of the many possible regrets?

  “I’ll think about it.” He waved his hands in the light, sending the particles dancing. For some reason he was reminded of Mercedes at the lake. The first time when he’d been there, his head in her lap, the sun warming his face, her breath against his cheek as she leaned down to kiss him. So many memories, he thought. So many regrets. Why didn’t youth understand that tomorrow was almost here? Too late he’d realized that you had to grab onto true love when you had the chance, or the memories of what you had let slip through your hands would haunt you for a lifetime.

  Hannah smiled and began clearing the table, stuffing everything back into the takeout bag. “This is a first. You leaving shrimp.”

  “I’m maturing, that’s all.”

  “Oh, I see.” She chuckled and added, “I’d ask you to go dancing, but I think maybe that’s not a good idea. So how about a movie?”

  “I could dance.” He jumped to his feet to show her. His head was clear now, and his stomach upset had passed. “I feel good.”

  “You look better. Must be the food.”

  “Could be you. It’s good to talk to someone.” He closed the gap between them and helped her from the chair. “Thank you for coming. I needed a friend, even if you didn’t say exactly what I wanted to hear.”

  “We always were friends, even before we got married. And you know I always say what I think.” She moved away from him, suddenly acting nervous.

  “So what aren’t you telling me? There’s something more to your coming here, isn’t there?” Did she want to try again? At one time he’d wanted that more than anything, but now with Darrel and Mercedes back in his life, he didn’t want to do anything to mess that up.

  She made a sound in the back of her throat, a mixture of amusement and dismay. “You know me too well.” One eyebrow rose, and he stifled an urge to touch the spot. “Well, it’s like this.” She went to the garbage and deposited the takeout bag. “I wanted to talk to you about . . . Well, I’ve been dating someone.” Her face flushed. “He’s a teacher. A very good one. And he’s asked me to marry him. I’m not rushing into anything, but I really care for him. I think it could work.”

  Brandon reeled with shock. Whatever reason she’d come, he hadn’t expected this. “You came all this way to tell me you’re getting married?”

  She stepped toward him, stopping uncomfortably close. “No, I came because my ex-husband, my friend, has been sick alone in another state while he’s trying to work out a way to get to know his son. I thought you might need a friend. Though I guess in a way, I do want your blessing.”

  “My parents are going to hate this.” Never mind them. He hated this.

  “I’ll keep in touch, of course.” Her hand brushed his in a fluttering movement. “But I worried about you . . .” She trailed off, but he knew what she’d been going to say. She worried about him being alone, about his cancer returning. Like Mercedes, she was a nurturer; perhaps they were more alike than he’d realized.

  “He’s a lucky man.”

  “Thanks.” Her smile was wide and open, and yet he felt a disappointment there. Or was that his own? But that was crazy. What he felt now for Hannah was friendship and remorse that he hadn’t been a better husband to her. Wasn’t it?

  “So, are we going to the movies?”

  “Sure.” He took her arm and steered her toward the door. “But I’m paying. It’s the least I can do after you came all the way out here.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I had frequent flyer miles. It was completely free.”

  “I didn’t know they paid for hotel rooms.”

  “Oh, shut up.” She slapped his arm with her free hand. They walked from the room, laughing, the tension and sadness draining away.

  It was only much later, when he was in bed that night, having kissed Hannah on the cheek and left her at her door, that he realized she hadn’t mentioned a thing about loving the man she planned to marry.

  Maybe it wasn’t love she was looking for this time around.

  As for him, love was all he wanted.

  Chapter 17

  Diary of Mercedes Walker

  August 4, 1995

  Still no word from Brandon. I was in the barn today, crying and upset. I haven’t been feeling as sick lately, but all the worrying got to me and I began throwing up. Wayne found me there. He helped me clean it up so Daddy wouldn’t see, and then he asked me to marry him. I was so shocked I didn’t know what to say. I felt grateful he was willing to sacrifice himself that way, but it didn’t feel right for him to throw away his life for a woman he didn’t love.

  Then a miracle happened.

  Mercedes let habit take over. She set the table, finished the dinner, and had everything prepared by the time Wayne and Darrel returned to the house. The boys were excited to eat the fish they’d caught. It was only the third time they’d been fishing this season, and the other times hadn’t yielded nearly as great a catch. They were giggling and poking each other, asking Mercedes questions she didn’t hear.

  He’s robbed me, she thought. Brandon has robbed me of this night with my family. She tried hating him, but it wasn’t in her. She’d seen the longing in his eyes for Darrel, for what he saw as his family. Or what could have been if her father hadn’t . . .

  No. She didn’t want to go there.

  “Right, Momma?” Joseph asked her. “Isn’t that the best place?”

  Mercedes blinked. “What?”

  “To go camping.”

  She instantly knew what he was talking about. Joseph loved a remote place up in the hills where they sometimes went during the summer, but the other boys preferred any place with a lake. “Yes, you’re right, honey. That’s my favorite place, too.” She wished she could go there now and take all her children to safety. And Wayne. Yes, Wayne, too.

  He was watching her, and without his saying anything, she knew he wondered what had happened that day. She’d tell him as soon as the boys were in bed, though since it was a Friday, that might take a while. On Wayne’s face was the uncertain smile she remembered well from that day in the barn, the day he’d asked her to marry him. The newly vibrant red hair added to the impression.

  He scooped up the soiled straw and removed it from the barn in an old bucket. Then he sloshed water over the rubber flooring in the horse stall, cleaning away the last bit of vomit.

&nb
sp; Mercedes watched silently, her hand on her throat, but the urge to be sick had passed as suddenly as it had come.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She started to nod and then shook her head. “No.” Her voice was small and weak.

  “Do you need a doctor?”

  “I’m pregnant.” Tears began again, and her face felt hot and sticky. If only she could simply disappear. She didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes. She didn’t want her father to know. Why had she been so stupid?

  Wayne took her hand and led her out into the walkway between the stalls. He put both hands on her shoulders and stared down into her face. “Mercedes, I’d be honored if you would marry me.”

  She blinked, so shocked that her tears stopped. He looked terribly vulnerable standing there—and ruggedly handsome in a way that made her breath catch in her throat. There wasn’t a mocking line in his face.

  “This isn’t your problem,” she whispered.

  “It’s not a problem. Leastwise, it won’t be if you marry me.”

  Her head swung back and forth, almost of its own accord. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I know you’ve been making plans to leave.”

  “That was before, when I thought you were marrying that doctor.”

  “What?”

  He smiled his slightly crooked smile. “You heard me.” He was still holding her shoulders, and she was grateful for the support. “I’ve stayed because of you.”

  “That’s not true. There’s a million ladies around here who would make you a better wife.”

  The next words shocked her. “Mercedes, you should know that I was married before. Just out of high school. I loved her very much.”

  An unreasoning jealousy pulsed through her. She felt anger at this woman she’d never known. How could Wayne have loved someone who hadn’t been a part of their life on the farm? It seemed he’d always been there, though he hadn’t come to the farm until she was eight. That would have made him twenty-one at the time. But who lived an entire life before the age of twenty-one?

  “She died giving birth to our son.” Tears glittered in his eyes, and his voice was hoarse with emotion. “I lost them both. People said it was a blessing about the baby because what would I do with a child? But I didn’t see it that way. For a year I wandered around, working odd jobs, and finally ended up here. Your momma, she took me in and convinced your daddy to give me a job. He was drinking pretty heavily by then, and they needed help.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Mercedes’ hand went to her stomach. She’d not given much thought to the life inside her, except as a source of guilt and pain and hurt, but suddenly it seemed infinitely precious.

  “Don’t be.” Wayne wiped the tears from her face with a warm, callused hand.

  “I don’t want you to marry me because you feel sorry for me.”

  “Mercedes”—his voice was as powerful as a physical caress—“I’ve dated a lot of women. I’ve tried to find a better life, but these past few years . . .” He paused, swallowed hard, his face earnest. “I wouldn’t be marrying you because I feel sorry for you. I’d be marrying you because you’re the only woman who makes me forget her face. I know you don’t love me yet, but I think you will. Surely you’ve seen how well we’ve got on these past months. I think we could make a great life together. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make you happy, and I’d be proud to raise your baby as my own. I give you my word.”

  She looked into his face and saw the love, the willingness to be there for her. A great weight lifted from her shoulders. Wayne was a good man, and he would never, ever leave her. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll marry you. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, Mercedes. It’s me who will be thanking God for every day we spend together.” He’d kissed her then, on the lips, a gentle, chaste kiss that nonetheless shot fire through her veins. I can love you, she thought, amazed at her feelings. I promise to learn. Her arms went up around his neck, and he pulled her into his embrace. Their kiss deepened. Mercedes was no longer alone.

  After dinner, the boys spread out their sleeping bags on the deck, checked the batteries in their flashlights, and began playing board games. Though they’d just eaten, the ever-starving Joseph had gathered a mound of food to tide them over until morning—popcorn, chips, dried bananas and apricots, the remains of an apple pie, oranges, beef jerky, pretzels, and the chocolate bars they’d bought at school that day with their own money.

  Wayne got his own bag and set the rolled bundle in a corner, signaling his plan to sleep near them, though usually when the boys slept on the deck, she and Wayne would stay in their own bedroom with the window open to keep an ear out for them. Mercedes started to ask him why, but the question died on her lips. They might never again be able to leave the boys on their own without fear of Darrel coming up missing.

  “He wouldn’t take him,” she said to Wayne softly. “Would he?”

  Wayne shrugged. “I don’t know how many more times I’ll have the chance to sleep out with all the boys together.”

  Her thoughts had been so far from his that she wondered at her own morals. Would she resort to kidnapping if she were in Brandon’s place?

  Wayne took her hand. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

  She nodded and slipped her feet into her shoes, sticking a finger in the back to ease in her heels.

  “We’ll be back in a while, boys.”

  “Can we come?” Scott jumped to his feet.

  “Not tonight.”

  “Pleeeeasssse?” Scott blinked his eyes and jutted out his lower lip.

  Wayne was unmoved. “No.” Then he grinned. “I plan to kiss your momma—a lot.”

  “Ew, gross!”

  “Besides, you’ll miss all the food,” Joseph said, throwing a piece of popcorn at his brother.

  Scott’s face brightened. “Try to get it in my mouth.”

  Wayne and Mercedes left them, tossing popcorn into the air.

  Their feet instinctively followed the path out beyond the garden, past the orchard to the grove of trees that marked the family cemetery. “So what happened today?” Wayne asked.

  “Brandon stopped by.”

  The muscles in Wayne’s jaw clenched, and when he spoke, his voice was a growl. “That boy needs a collar. I told him not to come around when I wasn’t here.”

  “He had a collapse of some kind and was in the hospital. That’s why he hasn’t been back before.” She looked down at her mother’s grave as they passed and added softly. “He’s been in touch with a lawyer and says he wants to share custody. He wants Darrel for holidays and summers.”

  Wayne rolled his head with the same frustration Mercedes had felt. “He can’t be serious. Darrel doesn’t even know him.”

  “According to Brandon, that’s my fault.”

  “He’s the one who put you in an impossible situation!”

  “I’m still at fault here, too, Wayne. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I haven’t wished you were Darrel’s father.”

  “I am his father.”

  That was true. In any way that counted, Wayne was Darrel’s father. “You know what I mean.”

  “The point is, Brandon left and never looked back until it was in his interest to do so.”

  With the new information of the phone calls and letters, Mercedes wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t want to defend Brandon to Wayne. Besides, if she did, she’d have to tell him about the letters and what Brandon had said about still caring for her. I can’t hurt Wayne that way, she thought. Or was she only protecting herself?

  They continued a few steps in silence, and then Wayne asked, “What did you say to him?”

  “I tried to talk him out of it, of course, but he wouldn’t listen. Then he tells me his cancer might have come back. He hasn’t done the tests yet, and he claims he’s fine, but I think the fear of that is what made him come over so . . . so boldly, I guess.”

  Wayne scrubbed a hand through his hair. In
the quickly fading light he seemed much younger, more like the man who had proposed to her in the barn thirteen years ago. She felt a rush of emotion that she couldn’t quite identify as love. Gratitude? Companionship?

  “He might be dying?” Wayne kicked at a half-buried rock, wincing at the impact. The rock didn’t budge.

  “I told him we’d fight. I begged him to wait until Darrel was older.” She looked over the grass that covered the peaceful graves. The air was perfectly still, almost supernaturally so, as though she and Wayne were in another world entirely. The world where the dead slept, unconcerned about mortal affairs. But Mercedes didn’t quite believe that her grandmother would rest peacefully when she was so troubled.

  “I’m so sorry, dear.” Grandmother set down the clothes she was unpacking from her suitcase and hugged Mercedes. “I should have been here for you. I wish you’d written. Or that Wayne had written sooner.”

  “I was just too miserable.” Mercedes still couldn’t look her in the eye. Her grandmother was deeply religious and would not be happy that her unmarried granddaughter was pregnant. “I’ve been so stupid, and I feel so—so used. I’m sorry, Grandmother. I know I let you down. I let everybody down, including myself.”

  Grandmother put a finger under her chin, guiding her face until Mercedes had no choice but to look into her blue eyes. “Everyone makes mistakes, Mercedes. Some big, some small. It’s unavoidable. The real test is what we do next. Do we let it beat us? Do we commit the same mistake again? Or do we learn and grow from it? Right now you have to decide what’s best for you and that baby. Have you thought about that? Are you going to be able to raise a child alone?”

  She knew Grandmother was thinking of adoption. “I won’t be alone. I’m getting married.”

  “I thought the doctor left.”

  “I’m marrying Wayne.”

  Grandmother took her hands. “Honey, are you sure? Isn’t he a little old for you?”

  Something inside Mercedes rebelled at her words. Wayne was exactly what she needed. “He loves me, and he’s willing to raise my child. I couldn’t imagine a better father. Can you?”