Elizabeth Sinclair - A Question Of Love

He just wished he didn’t have to wait to hear Danny call him Dad. But he understood why Honey had asked him not to tell his son just yet. Matt knew all about stuttering. He’d stuttered himself after his mother died.

Thanks to a very special speech teacher, he’d managed to overcome it. Danny would, too. And Matt would help him all he could, whether Honey liked it or not.

FROM HER WHEELCHAIR, Amanda held Matt’s big hands and smiled up into his face. “Lord, how I’ve missed you, Matthew.”

He reminded her in many ways of Stan, with his large, broad-shouldered frame, in his strong hands and gentle grip. But in many ways, he was Stan’s opposite. She’d often thought of them as night and day. Stan’s shock of blond hair and sparkling blue eyes reminded her of sunshine and bright blue skies, while Matt’s dark good looks and brooding mouth had always brought to mind the night sky, where secrets could hide. Stan had always been quick to smile and tease, while Matt had been quiet and thoughtful.

Matt had grown into a fine young man. Stan had continued to be a boy, and his little-boy attitude had killed him…. At the thought, Amanda felt tears threaten. Shuffling the memories aside, she concentrated on the man who had been more to her than merely her brother-in-law’s son.

Part of the reason she’d been able to accept Danny as her grandson, even though she’d suspected differently, was because she’d always regarded Matt as her second son, loved him and wanted his happiness as much as she did Stan’s.

When Matt had left without a word, it had hurt her deeply, but she knew too well what he lived with in Kevin Logan’s house. What did surprise her was that it had taken so long.

“Amanda, I’m so sorry I didn’t—”

She placed her fingers over his lips. “I told you before, no regrets, Matt. I knew why you didn’t come back for the funeral, and I don’t blame you one bit.”

He kissed her cheek, then backed away to sit across from her wheelchair. Where did he start, in telling her about the events of the morning? “I know about Danny.”

She smiled. “Honey told me about your little chat this morning. I’m glad the air is cleared.”

“Amanda…why did Honey marry Stan? Was it just because of Danny?”

Amanda straightened the throw over her legs, then centered all her attention on him. “No, but that’s all I’ll say on the subject. This is between you and Honey. I have no right telling her story.”

Impatient, Matt frowned at her. “You had no problem inviting me to stay here when you knew I’d find out about my son.”

She shook her head, her mane of perfectly coiffed, snowy hair turning golden in the afternoon sunlight coming through the sitting room windows. “Ah, but that was just some innocent maneuvering to get two stubborn people to face their problems. I’m an old woman who is not above a little meddling, Matthew Logan. However, I will not divulge confidences.”

It irked him that Honey would trust Amanda enough to tell her why and not him. Honey didn’t trust him. He should have guessed. Still, the realization brought with it an almost physical pain. “Then she told you?”

“Not everything.”

“Then—”

“I’m old, not stupid. I did figure some of this tangle out for myself. Then Honey filled in the blanks this morning after she spoke with you.” A serious expression transformed her face from the gentle woman who had held his hand, to the woman he had faced as a teenager after sneaking into the house after curfew. “Just remember, Matt, you’re not the only person in this world with problems.”

Now, what did that mean? Before he could ask, she went on. “So, what are you going to do about your son?”

Matt had spent the better part of the day thinking about Danny. He would not turn his back on his son. He wanted to be part of his child’s life. “I’m not sure, but one thing I do know, I won’t walk out of Danny’s life, no matter what. Honey be damned.” He sighed heavily and stood, then bent to kiss Amanda’s cheek. “In the meantime, I guess I’d better check on the house and see what needs to be done. See you at dinner.”

Amanda, noting the pain in his expression, watched Matt leave, then shook her head. She never doubted that Matt would want to be a part of his son’s life. But did he realize that he’d have to learn to love himself before he could love the child—and quite possibly the child’s mother?

Through the window, she watched as he shooed the stray orange cat off the hood of the truck, then climbed in and drove away. For the first time since she’d agreed to Matt’s coming here, she wondered if she’d done the right thing. Had she given those she loved an opportunity to heal old wounds or had her interference paved the way for new ones?

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