Lorraine Beatty: The Lawman's Secret Son

She flipped the dead bolt on the front door and switched on the porch light, which popped, then went out, surrounding her in darkness. Her throat tightened. Inhaling a deep breath, she scolded herself for being such a wimp. Her mailbox was right outside the door. She’d only be in the dark for a second or two. After opening the door, she stepped out onto the porch. Movement on the other side of the rocker froze her in her tracks. The shadows made it hard to identify the shape. A dog? Cat? A man?

Heart pounding, she peered closer. The creature scooted backward. She froze, blood pounding in her ears. She fought the impulse to duck back inside. What if it was an injured animal? She couldn’t ignore that. Carrie forced herself to look closer. Two wide eyes looked back at her from a little face. A child. A little boy was huddled on her front porch. Fear slid quickly into concern. What was he doing here? Her mind raced through a dozen questions. She took a step toward the child. He scooted back against the wall, clutching a plastic grocery bag in his hands.

Slowly she stooped down, putting a smile on her face and keeping her voice calm and soothing. “Hello. My name is Carrie. What’s your name?” The big eyes blinked back at her.

The boy, whom she guessed to be about five years old, didn’t respond, only clutched his bag to his chest. “Are you cold? Hungry? Would you like a cookie?” He nodded. Carrie extended her hand, but he was reluctant to take it. “It’s okay. I’ll fix you some milk, too. Or how about hot chocolate? It’s chilly tonight.” It was late March in Mississippi and while the days were warming up, the evenings could still be very cold.

Slowly the child extended his hand and together they stood. When he lowered his precious sack, she saw a large note pinned to his chest. She prayed it held some answers.

The blazing lights inside her home calmed her racing pulse, and she made a mental note to replace the porch light as soon as she could. Leo greeted them, tail wagging rapidly. The boy stopped. “This is Leo. You can pet him if you’d like. He’s a good boy.”

The child only stared at her a moment, then backed away from the animal.

Guiding the boy toward her breakfast table, she reached for his sack, but he clutched it more tightly against his chest. She noticed he held a toy in his other hand, a small yellow truck, battered and bent with much of the paint worn away and a tire missing from one of the wheels. A long-ago memory exhumed itself. A shiny blue bracelet. The only thing that had ever belonged to her. She’d lost it somewhere along the way, but she’d cherished it much the same way the little boy did his truck.

Settling him onto a chair, she briefly rested her hand on the top of his head, surprised at how cool he felt. How long had he been on her porch? The thin jacket he wore was woefully inadequate for the weather. His jeans were threadbare and his sneakers worn through at the toes. Her heart ballooned with sympathy. She wanted to wrap him in her arms and make him warm and safe, but she doubted he’d let her do that.

She heated up a cup of water in the microwave, added a packet of cocoa, took two cookies from the jar and set them in front of the boy before joining him. “I see you have a note. It must be important. May I see it?”

He thought a moment, then nodded. Carrie unpinned the stained and crumpled paper. It was folded in half with the number 533 scribbled on it. As she read the short note inside, a swell of familiar anger formed.

Seth, I’m done. He’s your son and it’s time you did your part. He’s five years old. Do the math. I’m leaving the country. His name is Jack. Tiff

Seth. That was the name of her new neighbor, the man who had so kindly changed her flat tire last week. She’d labeled him a good guy—kind, charming and nice. She’d even felt a spark of attraction to his solid strength and boy-next-door smile. Apparently there was another side to the man—deadbeat dad. She would never understand how a man could father a child, then walk away. Still, she found it hard to believe Seth was that kind of man. It was a shame. He’d been so thoughtful and seemed so trustworthy. But then she was a terrible judge of character.

Carrie scanned the note once more, making sure she hadn’t missed something. Nope. The boy was Seth’s, and for whatever reason he’d been left on her doorstep. Well, this was a situation she was not going to get involved in. She watched Jack sipping the cocoa and taking small bites of the cookies as if wanting the experience to last. Her throat constricted. She knew that feeling. Memories, hot and stinging, shot through her system. She ached to hold the child and make sure he never felt this way again. But Jack wasn’t her responsibility. He was Seth’s.

Jack downed the last of his milk, wiped his sleeve across his little mouth, then stared at her. She forced a smile. “Jack. Do you know who left you here? Your mom, grandma or a friend?”

He stared back at her with the biggest cobalt blue eyes she’d ever seen. No. She’d seen them once before. Seth’s eyes were the same color. Only his eyes had crinkles at the corners and a warm, friendly light in them that drew people in.

Focus. She fingered the note again. “Jack, I think you’ve been left here by mistake. You should be next door. That’s where your...father lives. How about we go see him?”

Jack shrugged his bony shoulders and her throat tightened. The poor little guy was lost and afraid. From deep down, old hurts and fears coalesced into a ball of fury. This was the reason she was taking online classes to become a social worker. She vowed to help kids feel safe and protected. The way she’d never been. Part of her wanted to call the authorities, but the note clearly was intended for her neighbor and that’s where she would start.

Leo put his paws on Jack’s chair and whined. Jack reached down cautiously and touched the top of the dog’s brown-and-white head. Carrie wasn’t sure but she thought she heard a small giggle. The sound shot straight to her core, wrapping around her like a fast-growing kudzu vine. She stood. Time to get a grip, before she became more attached to the little fellow.

Holding on to Jack’s small hand, she walked across the front lawn and up onto Seth’s front porch. It was dark, the only light coming from deep inside the cottage. A chill chased up her spine. You are my strength. Darkness had never been her friend. But this wasn’t about her. This was about Jack. She would explain the mix-up, hand the boy over and be on her way. This was none of her concern. She smiled down at Jack and knocked firmly on the door. Very firmly.

The door swung open, and the outline of a man backlit from inside filled the doorway. He stood braced with feet apart. She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. She’d forgotten how tall her neighbor was and how broad his shoulders were. In the shadowed light he seemed imposing. Her heart skipped a beat. Would he scare Jack?

The porch light flipped on and Seth met her gaze with a questioning frown. “Carrie? Hey. What brings you by tonight?” He glanced down at the child, his frown sliding into a curious smile. “Who’s your little friend?”

Carrie clenched her teeth. Really? The man didn’t even know his own son? This is why she’d vowed to steer clear of any romantic entanglements. Men were all totally irresponsible and self-absorbed. No matter how nice they might seem in the beginning, they would leave you in the end.

“He’s your son. But I guess not seeing him for a long time might make him hard to recognize.” She hadn’t intended to react in anger, but his indifference had sparked a nerve.

The warm smile vanished, replaced with a look of stunned shock before the dark brows drew together and the eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what kind of joke you’re playing, Carrie, but it isn’t funny.”