Promises to Keep (27 page)

Annie surged to her feet. “You
can’t
take my son, Mrs. Quincy. You know it and I know it. If you think you can prove I’m an unfit mother, you’re sadly mistaken—”

Ruth interrupted brusquely, “Oh, but I can. Make no mistake about it. I can easily prove your unsuitability in a court of law, and your family’s inability to assist you.”

“I’m eighteen and legally able to raise my own child!”

“That doesn’t matter one bit. You haven’t enough power to fight me, Miss Turner.” She stepped closer, smiling grimly when the girl retreated, fear plain to see on her face. “You thought you could involve yourself with my son in the hopes he’d marry you, bring you to Quincy Hall, beget children by you. Well, you accomplished part of it. But, marriage? Think again. Travis will never marry a person like you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mother.” Travis stood and wrapped a supporting arm around the girl, who visibly trembled. “Annie and I are getting married. I’m of age and no longer need your consent.” His chin lifted in defiance, and there was conviction in his eyes.

There was also the insecurity of youth, and Ruth saw it for herself. Briefly she faltered as she recognized his courage.

She wanted the world for him. But she knew what was best for her son. And this ragged, skinny white-trash girl wasn’t it.

Ruth squashed every drop of emotionalism within her heart and issued an ultimatum. “You will
not
marry this girl, Travis. You will leave this house with me, now, and assist me in compiling what information is necessary to begin custody proceedings. You will contact Catherine, immediately. You have a wonderful young woman waiting for you, one who has received attention from you and expects you to honor her with your proposal of marriage.” She took his arm and, despite his struggles, maneuvered him toward the door.

“No, I won’t marry anyone but Annie! Catherine already knows it, Mother. You’re wasting your time.” Travis dug in his heels and wrenched his arm from her grip in a blatant attempt to ignore her authority. “Once Annie and I are married, we’ll be moving to New Haven to get ready for fall semester.”

Ruth permitted herself one short, sarcastic laugh. “Fall semester? Is that what you think?” She narrowed her eyes at her son. “I think not.” Her voice lowered. “If you disobey me, you will never step foot back on Yale property, Travis. This I promise you. Persist in this madness of yours, and I will disown you without one speck of guilt. No education, no prospects. No Legacy. Nothing. And I’ll still obtain custody of my grandson. You will never see the boy, once he’s under my guardianship.”

Both Travis and Annie blanched as they processed Ruth’s threat. Satisfied, she added, “See if your little girlfriend can replace all you will lose, should you rebel against your destiny. And you can also forget about coming back to Quincy Hall to visit your father.”

Ruth moved forward as she spoke, until she was mere inches from Travis. Her breath fanned his ashen cheeks as she issued her final blow. “You’ll lose everything.”

“Whose car is that?” Susan nodded at the stately silver Mercedes parked out in front of the house. “Maybe one of our neighbors won the lottery?” She grinned at Henry as he glanced in the rear-view mirror. He mugged a face at her before he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. Then he gave the expensive sedan another perusal, and sobered.

“Oh, Lord, this isn’t good.” He exchanged a worried look with Mary as he climbed out of the driver’s seat and hurried toward the back door with her fast on his heels.

Ruth Quincy. Who else in town owned a car like that?

They heard raised voices coming from the living room. Henry headed for the narrow hallway as Mark tore down the stairs, his face dark with anger and concern. He muttered, “I never even heard the damn doorbell.” Henry nodded as they both strode into the living room with Susan and Mary close behind.

Travis stood trembling before his mother, and Ruth Quincy’s face had never looked so harsh, so cold. Next to Travis, Annie pressed both hands to her mouth.

“Mrs. Quincy, what are you doing here, intimidating my daughter?” Henry moved to Annie and slipped an arm around her shoulders, drew her close to his side. She turned her face into his chest.

Without taking her eyes from Travis, Ruth addressed Henry. “I apologize on behalf of my son for disrupting your household. As I have already explained to your daughter, I plan to arrange for paternity tests, to assure the child in question was indeed fathered by my son. After that, we will finalize the transfer of custody from your daughter, to me.”

A harsh growl behind her drew Ruth’s attention. She glanced over her shoulder. And paled at the sight of Mark, who stood near Mary and scrutinized her with revulsion.

Swaying, she reached for something to hold onto. She brushed Travis’s arm and gripped his elbow.

“Mother, what the hell is wrong with you?” Travis took her arms in a hard grip, holding her upright when it seemed her legs would give out beneath her.

Ruth raised a shaky hand and gestured. Travis turned and frowned as he looked where she pointed. “That’s Mark, Annie’s big brother. I doubt he’d stand aside and let you take his nephew.”

Mark came farther into the room and rasped, “No one is taking Hank anywhere, ma’am. I can guarantee that.” At the sound of his voice, Ruth’s knees buckled. Travis wrapped an arm around her, bewilderment plain to see on his face.

It suddenly dawned on Henry. Of all the Turner children, Mark was the only one who bore a marked resemblance to his grandfather, Franklin: similar coloring, the same husky build and the same eyes. Even the same heavy brows and distinctively shaped nose. That striking similarity seemed to scare Ruth half to death. Henry wasn’t by nature mean, but right now he was glad to use anything at hand to rid the house of Ruth Quincy.

Including his own offspring. He gestured to Mark, who nodded and narrowed his dark brown eyes at the cowering woman. “Leave please, ma’am. Now.” Turning, Mark addressed Travis, who still held onto his mother. “Take her home, Travis. And understand this: she’ll never get her hands on Hank. You got that?”

“Mark, none of this is Travis’s fault.” Annie confronted her brother and caught his arm.

Mark shook her off. “I don’t care whose fault it is, or isn’t. I only care about you, Annie. Our family.” He jerked his chin toward the stairs. “My nephew.”

As if on cue, Hank started to fuss. Annie rushed toward the hall, but at the bottom of the stairway, she stopped and looked over at Travis. “You have a choice, Travis. Your mother got here by herself, and she can leave just as easily.” Ruth sucked in an audible breath, but Annie ignored her. She held Travis’s gaze. “You want to marry me, be a father to Hank? Then stay here, and send your mother home.”

“Annie—” Travis stepped away from his mother, and she instantly grabbed hold of him. He tried to pull his arm away, but she held fast.

“Mother, let
go
.”

“You will come home with me
now
, Travis.”

“Travis, I’m warning you. Get your mother out of here,” Mark ground out furiously.

“
Stop it
!” Sissy’s loud protest shut everyone up, and they all turned to look at her, poised on the stairs. While everyone had been arguing, she’d come down, with Hank held in her arms. Flushed from sleep and teary, he popped two fingers into his mouth and nestled his head on her shoulder.

Sissy frowned at them and chastised, “You woke him up. All of you, stop shouting. Annie, take him, I need to sit down.” Annie hurried to retrieve Hank, and Mark swung Sissy off the stairs and into the living room. He settled her in the armchair, and she sank onto the cushions, rubbing at her distended belly.

“Are you all right? Did you have a contraction?” He hovered over Sissy.

She offered a faint smile. “I’m okay. Just indigestion. But you know I can’t stand to hear a baby crying.” Sissy flicked an apologetic glance at Annie. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“No, you’re right. It’s wrong of us to fight this way. And I’m glad you checked on Hank. I’ve never been able to let him cry, either. He’s such a good little boy.” Annie pressed her lips to her son’s temple, and smiled when he let out a huge, contented sigh against her shoulder.

Henry watched the astonishment steal over Ruth’s face when she saw for herself how much Hank resembled his father. Maybe it was a mistake for Sissy to bring him downstairs while there was shouting going on, but Hank so seldom cried. Besides, it was time to settle this once and for all.

Still, when Ruth took a few hesitant steps toward Annie, she stepped close to her brother. Mark crossed his arms over his chest, and Ruth wisely kept her distance. But her eyes never left Hank’s face.

Hank looked all around the room, wide-eyed, caught sight of Travis and pulled his fingers out of his mouth, waving them wildly. “Da!”

He managed to grin. “Hi, buddy.” Hank wriggled, wanting his daddy, and Travis sent a pleading look towards Annie. She hesitated, nodded, and Travis held out his arms for Hank. He settled the boy on one hip, placed his free arm around Annie’s waist, and linked the three of them together. It was a visual unit even Ruth couldn’t possibly miss.

For endless seconds, nobody moved or spoke. Then, Ruth strode toward the foyer with her head held high, giving Mark a wide berth as she did so. The rest of the family moved back to let her pass.

As she opened the door, Ruth tossed Henry a final, cold glare. “My attorneys will be in touch.”