Brenda Minton - The Rancher's Secret Child

A woman who had sparked something foreign inside Marcus. She’d looked at him with those sky blue eyes of hers, and she, too, had challenged him to do the right thing. And he’d wanted to.

Which resulted in the decision he’d made. He’d sent her on her way. But she hadn’t left town. Why hadn’t she left? Because she was stubborn, that was why. Because for some reason she thought he should be involved in Oliver’s life. For what purpose?

Thunder rumbled in the distance and gray clouds rolled from the south. He’d seen the forecast and knew they were in for some serious rain. The kind of rain that could only cause trouble. It seemed that the weather was the least of his concerns. He had to get to town and convince Lissa Hart to leave.

He didn’t want himself tied to the woman. That was another good reason to send her back to where she came from. Having Oliver in his life clearly meant having Lissa there, as well. If one was trouble, the two together was catastrophe. As if on cue, lightning flashed across the sky.

* * *

The rain started as Lissa stood with her cell phone on the covered porch of Essie’s café. Her mom, or foster mom, Jane Simms, continued to talk.

“You have to give him a chance.” Jane was repeating what she’d already said more than once. “Oliver is his son. And it will be easier if you honor Sammy’s wishes. If he comes back later and takes you to court, well, you don’t want that for Oliver.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You have vacation time. It wouldn’t hurt you to take time off.”

The wind blew the rain across the porch, the drops pelting Lissa’s face. She wiped away the moisture and glanced inside the café, where Oliver was digging into his biscuits and gravy. He waved happily.

“I know and I need the time off, for more reasons than this.”

“Is he still calling you?” Jane asked, speaking of a fellow nurse Lissa had dated for a short time.

“Not as often.” She wanted to cry over the entire situation, but that wasn’t her style. She would work through this, because on the scale of disasters she’d faced in her lifetime, this definitely didn’t rate highest.

“His problems aren’t yours,” Jane reminded.

“I know. It’s Troy’s past that is the problem. And my past.” She had fallen for a smile and sweeping romantic gestures, not realizing the baggage that came with both.

“It’s okay to have goals, Lis. It’s okay to want more. And it is okay to stay here and give this man a chance with his son. You’re a good judge of character. That’s why Sammy trusted you to know if he was ready to be a dad.”

“I don’t really want this responsibility. I love Oliver. I don’t want to hurt him, and regardless of how I go with this, that could happen.”

“But no matter what happens, you’ll protect him,” Jane countered. “I know you will. You’ve been more than an aunt to that little boy since the day he was born.”

She sighed, holding the phone tight to her ear as thunder rumbled across a sky heavy with clouds. It was May. Of course there would be storms.

Neither she nor her foster mom spoke for several long moments. As much as they had loved Sammy, they’d also known her faults. She had struggled, even after Oliver’s birth. Neither of them wanted to speak of the past, not when it meant dwelling on the Sammy who had slipped into old behaviors and left her son too often with Jane or Lissa.

She’d been trying to straighten up and do right. That was what they focused on. She’d been working so hard on being better, for Oliver’s sake.

“Don’t dwell on it,” Jane spoke softly. “You’ve taken a lot on yourself. And Sammy left a large hole in your life, along with this burden. You know I’m praying for you.”

“I know you are.” She looked anxiously up at the sky again. “I’d better let you go. It’s raining harder and making it difficult to hear. I’m going to go back inside with Oliver.”

“Give him kisses from his Gee Gee.”

Lissa smiled as she said goodbye and she felt better. Jane always made her feel better. She was a true mother, even if she had come late to Lissa’s life. Her own mother had failed Lissa for the first fourteen years, but Jane and Tom Simms had picked up the pieces and given her a future. They were the parents she turned to. Her own mother was someone she occasionally reached out to, hoping to find her better.

As she entered the restaurant, the wind picked up and so did the rain. Big drops splattered the windows and bounced off the cars parked along the front of Essie’s. A flash of lightning lit up the early-morning sky and Oliver gulped as he swallowed a bite of biscuits and gravy. Wide-eyed, he looked up at Lissa as she sat down across from him.

“Is it a tornado?” he asked in hushed tones.

“No,” she assured him. “Just rain. We always need rain in the spring.”

A woman ran out of the kitchen. “Land sakes, it’s gonna flood. I heard it on the news.”

The waitress hurried from a table where she’d just delivered an order and took the older woman by the hand. “Bea, it isn’t a flood. It’s a storm. We get them in the spring and they pass. Look, there’s a little boy and you don’t want to scare him. Head on back to the kitchen. I left an order for you to cook while Essie is gone.”

The woman, midfifties and wearing a floral-print dress, orthopedic shoes and athletic socks, focused her wild-eyed attention on Oliver. Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed.

“Why, doesn’t he look the spittin’ image of the Palermo twins? I reckon someone is in big trouble and that’s why Essie went roaring out of here in her old Scout. She said Marcus was about to get his ears boxed.”

The waitress tugged on the woman’s arm. “Bea, back to the kitchen.”

Bea remained standing, wringing her hands in her apron. She glanced at Oliver and then at the windows. Lightning flashed across the sky. She trembled visibly.

“Is the little boy scared?” Bea asked the waitress, Libby. “I remember Marcus and Alex hiding under tables when it stormed. They were little like that.”

“He isn’t afraid.” Libby tried to move the cook, but Bea wouldn’t budge.

The bells chimed, signaling that the café door had opened. A breeze too cool for mid-May swept through the café and the rain became a deafening roar. Lissa didn’t have to look to know who would be coming through the door. She knew because the woman, Bea, glanced from the door to Oliver and back to the door. She knew because Oliver stopped looking worried and grinned big.

“I’m going back to the kitchen,” Bea announced. “Marcus is in big trouble.”

Marcus nodded a greeting to a few people, pulled off his hat and headed in their direction. He half grinned at Oliver as he pulled out the empty chair at their table.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked as he folded his lean, athletic frame into the seat. He’d taken off his hat and he dropped it on Oliver’s head.

Lissa started to ask if it mattered that she did mind. Instead, she forced a smile and shook her head. “No. Of course not.”

At her terse response he grinned and nodded at the coffee cup on the table. He turned the cup over for the waitress to fill and leaned back as if he didn’t feel the tension. But even Oliver felt it. The boy glanced from Marcus to Lissa and back to Marcus.

“Are you enjoying your biscuits and gravy?” he asked Oliver.

“Yeah. They’re the best.” Oliver took another big bite. “Can I see your dog again?”

“Maybe,” he answered.

Lissa wanted to hurt him for being so noncommittal. She wanted to yell at him for invading their lives and turning everything upside down. But then, hadn’t she been the one doing the invading? Because she’d made this trip, none of their lives would ever be the same.