The Single Dad's Redemption (15 page)

“Believe me, the pleasure has been all mine.”

She studied his rugged face, already missing him. He would need to come back here to return her SUV, but would he then need to leave right away? Would she ever again have moments like this, when she could simply enjoy his company?

“Oh—and if you do leave tomorrow, don’t forget,” she added, forcing a smile. “Tomorrow your sutures need to come out. You could probably stop at a walk-in clinic somewhere en route.”

He chuckled. “I’ve lost count of how many cow and horse lacerations I sutured before leaving the ranch. I can handle a few of my own.”

She ran to her car for the keys and then handed them over. “It has a full tank of gas and gets around 28 mpg, so that’ll take you almost five hundred miles. I’ll leave a paycheck on the seat that you can cash at the bank in the morning, on your way out of town, and I’ll add a little more. If you want to leave tonight, we can figure out a way to wire you that money.”

He stood slowly. He rested his hands on her shoulders, and they stared at each other silently for a long moment until he finally looked away and broke the spell.

“I don’t know what to say, except...thanks. I promise you’ll get your SUV back soon as I can. And I’ll repay every last cent I owe you.”

“I’m not worried. Just take it easy and be safe, so you get there. I’ll be praying that everything goes all right.”

He reached up and traced her cheek with his hand, and then he kissed her. Gently. Just a whisper of a touch, but then he kissed her again, longer this time, until she felt her toes tingle and her heart skip a beat.

But once he left for Detroit, he would be starting the next step of his new life—one that would center on his son and his life out West.

And she knew that long after this moment, when she savored the memory of that wonderful kiss, she would wonder how it could have felt so sweet, so romantic...

And still feel like a forever goodbye.

Chapter Nineteen

C
onnor switched his cell to speakerphone, settled it on the dashboard and listened to the ranch phone ring six then seven times.

He’d tried to call at different times of the day during his trip to Detroit, his heart racing and his palms damp, but no one ever picked up the phone and he couldn’t bring himself to leave a message. He had to say this directly, or not at all.

He moved his thumb over the buttons to disconnect the call, but just then a deep, raspy voice answered.

“Dad?”

Silence. Each second seemed like an hour while he waited for his father to acknowledge him after all these years.

Finally he heard Ben Rafferty clear his throat
. “Connor?”

Connor offered up a silent prayer for the right words that might finally heal the painful crevasse of anger that stretched out between them. “I’ve missed hearing your voice, Dad. I want—no, I need—to tell you that I’m sorry.”

Silence.

“I’m not calling because I want anything from you. I just want a chance to make amends. I miss you, Dad. I miss all of you.”

He listened to the lengthening stretch of dead silence, surprised and relieved that Dad hadn’t yet slammed down the phone.

When that didn’t happen, he plowed on. “You probably didn’t hear about it, but I was exonerated. Maybe you won’t believe me, but Chris or Dan can look it up on the internet for you. DNA tests proved I had nothing to do with that murder. It was all a terrible mistake.”

“Figured.”

Connor glanced down at his cell in disbelief. If that was true, Dad certainly hadn’t ever shared it. He’d never made any effort at contacting Connor. Ever. “You thought I was innocent?”

Dad mumbled something he couldn’t quite hear.

“So now I’m starting my life over, but first I’m on my way to Detroit to try to get my son back—at least partial custody.”

“You...” Dad’s voice trembled and he cleared his throat again. “You never brought him out here.”

Stunned, Connor swallowed hard at the hurt in his father’s voice.

Ben had been beyond disgusted at the news of his most wayward son’s shotgun marriage and subsequent divorce, and he’d never said a word about the baby. Connor had expected no softening of the old man’s heart now. Was it even possible?

“You said we weren’t welcome.”

“Maybe...maybe it’s time to put the past to rest.”

Connor heard the muffled sound of him calling his other sons to the phone. Then Chris and Dan picked up receivers in other parts of the rambling ranch house.

The first awkward, tentative efforts at conversation stumbled along for several long minutes...then dissolved in a raucous melee of voices vying to be heard. He’d expected rancor, but they actually seemed happy to hear from him.
Happy.

Listening to them, Connor glanced heavenward. Forgiveness—could he have imagined it could feel so wonderful, like a healing balm to his soul?
Thank You, Lord. Thank You.

When the call finally ended, with promises to keep in close touch and that he’d come to the ranch as soon as possible, Connor settled back against the seat. Any fellow drivers on the road who could see him grinning ear to ear probably thought him crazy. But that didn’t matter. Not one bit.

Twenty miles down the road, he speed-dialed Keeley, his heart too full to keep his news to himself.

She was the only person on earth he could imagine sharing it with, and when she answered on the second ring he couldn’t help but smile into the phone. “I can’t believe what just happened, Keeley...”

She listened with rapt attention. “That’s great news, Connor. I’m so thrilled for you!”

“I just hope things work out.”

“Please, keep me posted on how things go in Detroit. Were you able to set up an appointment with a lawyer when you get there?”

“Eight o’clock tomorrow morning. Your sister made the contact for me—probably the reason why I was able to get something so soon.”

“I wish you well. And take
lots
of notes.”

Just a few minutes after they ended the call, his cell rang, and Lonnie, Marsha’s friend, appeared on the caller ID screen.

He pulled off into the nearest freeway rest stop just south of Detroit and scrambled for a pen and paper. “Did you find it? Do you have Marsha’s address?”

“It wasn’t easy, let me tell you. That woman picks up stakes and moves more often than anyone I ever met.”

“It probably has something to do with paying rent,” Connor muttered.

Lonnie gave a startled laugh. “I guess you do know her pretty well. Anyway, her last known address is 421 Harper Street, Fairbury, Michigan—which is just outside Detroit. If you don’t mind, I’d rather she didn’t know I was the one who helped you. She can be one vindictive woman.”

“No problem. I can’t thank you enough, Lonnie. I couldn’t have found her without you.”

The woman chuckled. “Now you can go get that sweet little boy of yours and see that he’s raised right.”

Her words wrapped around his heart and gave it a hard squeeze. After all this time, could it finally happen?

Connor plugged the new address into the GPS on his phone and pulled back onto the highway.

Six-hundred-fifty miles down, with seventy to go.

And with every mile he was praying that Marsha hadn’t already disappeared.

* * *

Connor had dreamed of this moment for five long years. He’d tried to imagine his son’s four-year-old face and how it might have changed. Wondered if Josh would even remember him—or the wrestling matches they’d played on the floor, that Joshua always won with shrieks of laughter.

The piles of books they’d read every night.

The battles with the bathtub armada of plastic boats.

When Connor arrived at the right address on Tuesday morning he took a deep breath and knocked on the door, his hand shaking.

He realized that despite the passing years, he’d been imagining Josh as a sweet little boy.

He definitely hadn’t prepared himself for the much-older sullen child who now stood in the open doorway and stared at him without any sign of recognition. “My mom went to the store and Ed is sleeping.” The boy started to close the door.

“Josh, don’t you remember me?” Connor said softly, trying to slow his racing heart. “You were only four when I saw you last. Wow. You’ve changed so much. I didn’t imagine you’d already be so tall.”

The boy’s eyes widened with fear and confusion. He pushed harder on the door. Connor stopped it with his foot, but made no move to go in.

“I’m your dad, remember? I’ve been gone a long time, but I’ve wanted to see you again more than anything in the whole world.”

Josh’s momentary fear turned to anger in a heartbeat. “Right. You cared so much that you killed somebody and went to jail, instead of being home like a real dad.”

“I didn’t do it, Josh.”

“Like I should believe that.” The boy’s voice rose. “My mom says you’re a murderer and belong in jail. She says you’re crazy dangerous—and they’d never let you out.
Ever.
”

This was much harder than he’d expected. If he persisted, the boy might just get more upset. If he left, Marsha would probably grab Joshua the moment she returned and flee.

This might be Connor’s only chance.

“I sent you a newspaper clipping about my release, son. Did you see it?”

Josh’s lower lip trembled and he shook his head.

“Someone else killed that poor sheriff. Not me. It just took a long time for them to finally find the mistake in the DNA testing. But because of that mistake, I missed years of watching you grow up. It makes me so sad to think about it.”

“Yeah, you really cared. You never even bothered to send a stupid birthday card in all that time.” The boy’s voice dripped venom. “You love me, all right. Go away.”

There were tears in his eyes now. Tears that gave Connor a glimmer of hope. “Didn’t your mom give you the letters I wrote twice a week? The cards at birthdays and Christmas?”

Joshua wavered, glanced over his shoulder, then stood taller with renewed bravado. “I don’t believe you. My mom would never steal my mail.”

A man appeared in the doorway, next to Josh, with rumpled salt-and-pepper hair, a five o’clock shadow and a heavy gold 1980s chain around his neck. His eyes were bleary, but he had broad shoulders beneath an unbuttoned shirt and the beefy look of a wrestler who had gone paunchy in the midsection. Connor guessed that Marsha thought him handsome. She’d gone for his type before.

The guy surveyed Connor with narrowed eyes then rested a possessive hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “What’s going on here? You guys woke me up.”

“Joshua?” Connor said gently. “Can you introduce us?”

“This is Ed. He and Mom are getting married.” The boy dropped his gaze to the floor. He didn’t sound very thrilled about it. “And this is...this is my dad. He’s s’posed to be in prison.”

Ouch. “Actually, I was exonerated.” Connor met the other man’s gaze squarely. “But Joshua doesn’t quite believe it.”

The other man gave a brief, tight nod. “I read about it. Marsha’s been real worried about you showing up someday, so I looked it up on the internet. You got a raw deal, buddy.”

Connor glanced at the room behind them. Furniture in place, framed prints on the walls, no moving boxes in sight. Had Marsha been lying about leaving town? “More than anything, I’ve wanted to see my son again.”

“She’s been stewing about that, too.”

Ed seemed reasonable enough, and Connor felt another flash of hope. “I don’t want her to feel that way. There’s no need. I just want some time with Joshua.”

“It don’t matter to me. Marsha’s the one you gotta deal with, and good luck with that.” He hesitated and then stepped to one side. “Want to come in? The place is a mess, but you might as well sit down. She should be back soon.”

Connor looked down at Joshua. “Okay with you, son?”

“Whatever.” Joshua waited until Connor settled in an upholstered chair, and then he plopped down at the farthest end of the sofa.

But now his eyes were riveted on Connor as if he couldn’t bear to look away.

Ed ambled into the kitchen and came back with a mug in his hand. “Coffee? I can add a little kick to it if you want.”

“No, thanks.”

Hitching himself onto a stool at the counter dividing the living room and kitchen, Ed took a long swig from his mug and rested a meaty arm on the counter. “I’ll probably get in trouble for saying this, but I figure you gotta right to know. Those letters you sent Josh did come. But she figured they would just upset him, so far as I know, they all went in the trash. At least while I’ve been around. Almost a year now.”

Joshua sucked in a deep breath. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

Ed shrugged. “Well, kid, it ain’t my business. Talk to her about it.”

“I understand you’re moving,” Connor ventured. “Anyplace fun?”

Ed’s eyes gleamed. “Mississippi. That’s real casino country down there along the Gulf.”

Not the East Coast, then? “So you’re a gambler.”

“Big stakes, tall drinks, fancy women. What’s not to love?”

“You must be successful at it, then.” Connor glanced over at Joshua, who had slumped down into the couch. Ed’s lifestyle would certainly be appealing to Marsha, but what kind of life was that going to be for his son if they were out partying all night? “What will you do with Josh?”

He shrugged. “He’s old enough to be home alone and not burn the place down. Right, kid?”

Josh didn’t answer.

“So...what do you play?”

“High-stakes poker, blackjack—you name it,” Ed boasted. “I’m tough to beat.”

Connor shuddered, thinking of the sleazy life Marsha and this man had chosen. The apartment sure didn’t seem to be the home of a high roller, though. “Have you lived here long?”

Ed waved an arm dismissively. “This is a dump. Marsha’s lease ends next month and then we’ll be out of here. Hey—maybe you can come down and visit us. We’ll show you a good time.”

“Show who a good time?” Marsha walked in the door carrying a sack of groceries.

When she saw Connor her mouth fell open and she froze. The sack of groceries slid through her arms to the floor.

“What in blazes are you doing here?” Her stony gaze veered over to Ed. “And why did you let him in? I
told
you what could happen. And yet you did it anyway, like this was some happy little tea party.”

“He seems nice enough to me,” Ed said mildly, taking another long swallow from his mug.

She pinned a malevolent glare on Connor. “Get out. Do you hear me?
Get out.
”

“Actually, we need to talk, but then I’ll leave,” Connor said quietly. “No yelling, no screaming, no name-calling. Just talk.”

She glared at him, her arms folded over her chest. “There is no point. Get out of here, or I’m calling the cops.”

“Your loss, if you do. I’ve spent the last two hours with my lawyer here in town.” He flipped the man’s business card on the coffee table. “Hire an attorney yourself and we can just turn this all over to the two of them and give them each twenty grand to argue. Or we can be adult about this and make it simple. If we can amicably come to a decision about shared custody and hand that over to our attorneys, it will cost each of us much, much less. Your choice.”

She blinked.

“I’ll take that as a vote for the economical option. Good.” He nodded toward the kitchen table. “Can we sit over there and get started? Maybe you’ll want to have Josh go to his room while we talk. Or Ed can take him somewhere fun for a while.”

“Go to your room, kid. And shut the door.” Ed lifted an arm and pointed. “
Now.
I’m going to stay with your mom.”

He stood behind her chair and rested his hands on her shoulders as if protecting her from marauders.

Connor choked back a laugh. “You might as well sit down, Ed. I have no desire to pounce on your girlfriend, and this is going to take a while.”

He pulled a voice-activated mini recorder from his shirt pocket, thankful that Keeley had loaned it to him. “I want a record of what we say here, and you should record it, too. If you don’t have a recorder, you can download a quick app into your smartphone and you’ll be all set.”