was true. But how could Kristin have stayed in town, heartbroken and pregnant with Joe’s baby? She'd had to leave before the secret was out. She’d loved Joe with all of her heart and soul. Breaking up with him had nearly torn her apart, and she wasn’t about to let her dad know she was hurting, that she’d been jilted. God only knew how he would have reacted.
She’d told Joe her father wasn’t a violent man, and he wasn’t. His battles were usually fought at a conference table or, when necessary, in court.
But back then, if faced with a pregnant teenage daughter, he might have stormed after Joe, pressed charges of some kind. Made Joe’s life miserable. So, in a way, leaving had been a means of protecting both of the men she loved.
“My mother’s sister lives back east,” Kristin said. “So when Aunt Mary invited me to spend some time with her before I started school, I jumped at the chance. Getting out of town seemed like a good idea. Believe it or not, I cared about you. And when you told me you didn’t love me, I was crushed.”
Again, Kristin relished being able to speak the truth. She hadn’t told anyone about Joe, about their relationship, about her heartbreak. And for once, it felt therapeutic to let the words out. Liberating.
“Did you leave town pregnant? With my baby?” His eyes drilled into her, his words hammered on her heart.
“I’ve never discussed Bobby’s father with anyone,” Kristin said, “and I won’t do so now, unless I can get you to promise me something.”
“It’s a simple question, Kristin. Just give me a yes or a no.”
Answering no would be so simple. So easy. But she wasn’t about to lie about Bobby any more than she had to. But neither was she willing to jeopardize her father’s health.
“Things aren’t simple, Joe. I’ve kept secrets from my dad, secrets that will anger him when he finds out. And I’m not ready to confess yet.” She took a sip of wine, enjoyed the cool taste as it slid down her throat. Then she studied the fireman across from her, the man who’d once turned her inside out and promised to do so again, if she let him get too close.
Thank goodness she knew better than to allow that to happen. She needed a man who could commit for the long haul.
“They say confession is good for the soul,” Joe said.
She nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. But my dad has serious health problems. He needs bypass surgery, but other complications—his weight, sugar diabetes, the early stages of emphysema—have the doctors debating whether he can handle the surgery. I want to keep his life stress-free until the cardiologist and other specialists can determine a treatment.”
Joe’s jaw tensed, and she feared he was digging in his heels for a battle of attrition. Was he unwilling to understand, to care about her dilemma, her personal stake in all of this?
“I’m not into secrets,” he said.
She knew that. That’s why she’d never told Joe about having to sneak out to meet him. “I’ll tell my dad the truth, but I don’t want him finding out until I think his health can handle it.”
“So what are you asking me? Not to tell your father?”
“I’m asking that you honor my secret and my privacy. If I share that information with you, I want you to promise not to tell anyone until I say it’s okay.”
Before Joe could speak, the waitress brought their food. The silence was almost overpowering, as Kristin awaited Joe’s decision.
She studied her plate and poked at her food. But it wasn’t just nervousness and a guilty conscience that made her stomach all atwitter. It was the sandy-haired man across the table, the man she’d never been able to shake from her blood. Or her heart.
Time heals, the old adage said. But did it? Why did her old lover continue to stir up feelings and desires she’d buried years ago?
A wave of guilt splashed over her, as she thought about Dylan, her fiancé. He was a good man. Solid. Dependable. Willing to make a commitment. Yet, if truth be told, he didn’t stir the same fire that Joe did.
But there was more to life than hot sex. And quite frankly, a warm, dependable soul who would stick by a woman through good times and bad would prove to be invaluable in the years to come.
“Okay, Kristin. I promise to keep your secret.” His gaze cornered her, demanded to hear the words. “Am I Bobby’s father?”
The tears slipped down her cheeks, revealing the words her mouth couldn’t seem to form. She nodded her yes.
Joe had suspected Bobby was his son. Kristin’s affirmation only validated what he already sensed. He could tell by looking, by some kind of built-in parental instinct, maybe.
A part of him wanted to lash out and be angry that she’d kept their child a secret from him. But guilt came flying back in his court. After all, he’d been the one to end things that day at the ball field. And he’d made it clear he didn’t want to see her again. He couldn’t blame her for staying away.
And as long as he was placing blame, he’d throw some out at their fathers—hers for being so obstinate about wanting what was best for his daughter and his for being a low-life jerk.
But that didn’t change the current fact.
Joe Davenport had a son. A boy who was a lot like him.
And for some reason that didn’t make any sense whatsoever, it pleased him to know he and Kristin had made a baby.
He’d loved her so much back then. Of course, that was before he knew how much her father hated him, how star-crossed their relationship had been. Still, their short time together had been good—almost magical—while it lasted.
And they’d made a baby.
“Think it happened out at the lake, that afternoon?” he asked. “Or at the cabin in Julian?”
“Huh?”
His question seemed to take Kristin aback, as though she’d forgotten about the day she’d first given herself to him.
“We only made love a couple of times,” he continued. “And I guess it really doesn’t matter when Bobby was conceived.”
“It was at the cabin,” she said, her voice soft and gentle. “I’m not sure how I know, but—”
“You’re probably right.” Joe had that same feeling. The day had been special. Perfect. And if God chose to bless the world with a new baby, that would have been the time.
A sappy grin rose to the surface, and he couldn’t stop the excitement that bubbled inside. He wanted to be the kind of father he’d missed having. A father like Harry Logan, who always had time to listen, time to advise. Time to throw back his head and laugh, to enjoy an afternoon with his family, even if that family included a bunch of onetime bad boys like Joe.
Yep, Joe wanted to be that kind of dad to Bobby. He wanted to have backyard barbecues and toss footballs around on the grass. He wanted to take his boy fishing. And teach him how to ride a bike, if Bobby didn’t know how already. They’d
