usually meant homework but he was good with that.
“Maybe it’s the day care,” Mark offered. “Must be something there upsetting him.”
“Tantrums are normal. All I have to do is stay calm, not give in to him and this phase will pass. He’s testing his limits.”
Mark glanced his way for a long minute and then shrugged. “If you say so.”
His doctor said so. And he trusted his doctor.
* * *
JON DIDN’T TRUST Lillie Henderson. He found her attractive. But he didn’t trust her. He didn’t believe in angels. She’d told him that his son was not a discipline problem—Abe followed instructions and got along well with others.
But she’d said they needed to talk.
Like Abraham’s terrible twos were different from everyone else’s?
She’d also said that she’d met Abraham the week before, yet he hadn’t been told about a child expert being called in.
And that had his mind spinning noises he didn’t like.
Was someone making charges behind his back? Questioning whether or not Jon—a single guy in his twenties who worked and went to school full-time—was capable of providing for the needs of a two-year-old child?
Someone outside Shelter Valley?
Had Lillie been hired by someone other than Bonnie Nielson? Hired in secret by an older woman she wouldn’t ever mention?
An older woman with enough money to stay at Jon’s back until she got what she wanted?
The thought could be considered paranoid. He might even be able to convince himself of that if he hadn’t learned the hard way, more than once, about the duplicity of women.
At least, the women in his life.
Even then, he wasn’t afraid of the power of the opposite sex. What scared the shit out of him was his own culpability.
He’d made mistakes. Big ones. He wasn’t kidding himself. His past could be used against him—but only if his present supported the theory that he was still the loser he’d once been.
Had Lillie been hired to watch him? And his handling of his son? Could Abraham’s crying bouts—and Jon’s ineffectiveness in controlling them—be used against him?
One thing was for sure, university scholarship or not, he’d leave Shelter Valley immediately if anyone thought they were going to take his son away from him. Clara Abrams could follow him forever and he’d just keep moving one step ahead of her. She was not going to get Abraham.
Abraham. Named for the mother who didn’t want him, Kate Abrams. Jon’s first mistake as a parent.
His second had been in offering to let Abe’s maternal grandparents meet their grandson.
Abraham might not have everything life had to offer—he might not have designer clothes, or a mother who wanted him—but he did have a biological parent who would go to the grave for him.
Kids needed that.
And Jon was going to see that Abraham got it.
He’d learned a thing or three during his years of growing up in a system that didn’t always listen to the children in its care. He’d learned that the best way to find out what was being planned for you was to pretend to cooperate.
He had to meet Lillie Henderson. He had to appear to agree with her suggestions, whatever they might be—to accept her at face value. He had to pretend he had no suspicions regarding her sudden advent into his life.
And all the while, he’d be watching his back. His and Abraham’s. And be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.
He’d pack the bag again. The one Kate had helped him pack when she’d come to him over a year ago to tell him that her parents—mainly her mother—were planning to take Abraham away from him. She’d only found out herself in enough time to give him a few hours to skip town.
He’d played the disappearing act before. He knew the score.
He’d had to leave another town before Kate had managed to blackmail her mother into leaving him alone.
But Clara was crafty—her daughter had come by the talent naturally—he’d give her that. She could be on the warpath again.
After all, as Kate had told him on more than one occasion during the months they’d lived together, Abramses didn’t give up.
He’d pack the bag. Keep it ready in the closet. He’d put aside enough money to get them by on cash for a while if necessary. With the toddler, he’d need diapers and nonperishable food, too. And a warm blanket.
His mind spun, plans forming with a familiar clarity.
Running wasn’t new to Jon.
He’d just been fool enough to hope it was over.
* * *
WITH ONLY A minute to spare to get from the back of the public parking area to the Montford University Student Union, Lillie ran the entire way, thanking her joy of jogging and the serviceable rubber-soled shoes she wore to work for allowing her to sprint half a mile without passing out. She’d texted Jon Swartz, letting him know that she was on her way. She didn’t expect him to leave. She just hated to make people wait.
Spotting him leaning against the trunk of a paloverde tree, she slowed to a walk and took a second to smooth the blouse and jeans she’d put on when she’d changed out of her stained scrubs twenty minutes before. Her hair, in a ponytail, thankfully was still presentable.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, her breath even as she approached.
“No problem. I have an hour.”
Less than that, actually, if he wanted to get to class before it started. At least according to what he’d told her.
Not that it was her business.
Nor were those big brown eyes or the ease with which he held his body. The man was...all man.
And she wasn’t one who generally noticed. Or cared. Except in the most superficial sense.
She would walk away from this meeting and have nothing more to do with him, except as it pertained to his being Abraham’s father. The little guy had been on her mind all week. She couldn’t shake him. Which meant that she had a job to do.
“We can walk toward your class if you’d like,” she said, and without a word, he fell into place beside her. Not too close. But closer than he might have if they hadn’t been on a busy campus sidewalk thronging with students heading to and from classes.
“Bonnie tells me this is your first year at Montford,” she started. She had to get a feel for him if she was going to help him. Her job extended to family support as well as client support. Children needed healthy families.
“That’s
