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Another Woman's Son
Another Woman's Son
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Another Woman's Son

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But stay in her sister’s house? Where her husband had no doubt made love to Faith? “I can’t.”

“What?” Her father’s straight mouth turned down. “Ben’s right about Tony needing us.”

If Ben knew the truth about his son’s birth father, he’d never let one of the Deavers near his child again. And Isabel, riddled with regret, hardly trusted herself not to blurt the truth, if only to relieve her own suffering.

“Don’t make me—” She stopped as three pairs of eyes zeroed in on her. Her mother thought she should be more generous. Her father couldn’t understand her selfishness.

God alone knew what Ben thought.

“Helping Ben take care of Tony will ease your mind about Will and Faith,” her mother said. “Occupy your heart, sweetie.”

“Mom.” Her mother could be a little dramatic.

“I’d appreciate it.” Dignity covered Ben in armor. He wouldn’t cheat on his best friend. He’d never have looked at another woman. Even though she hadn’t managed to fully trust her own husband, Isabel believed in Ben’s loyalty.

And she owed him because she’d kept Faith and Will’s secret.

“Okay.”

“What?” her father said again. “No arguing?”

“You’re right.” She kissed her mother’s icy cheek.

“Thanks. I’ll feel better, knowing you’re with Tony.”

Isabel longed to see the baby, but she dreaded entering her sister’s house. “We’ll see you at the hotel.” She suspected they would try to leave as soon as they said hello, or they wouldn’t be shoving Ben into her car. She hugged her father. “Will you come to Ben’s in the morning?”

“Join us for breakfast, George.” Ben seconded her invitation.

“Sounds good.” Her father had eyes and concern only for her mom. He helped her over the slippery, uneven ground. His voice filtered back. “Maybe we shouldn’t have asked Isabel to go. She’s just lost her husband and her—”

“She lost Will three months ago,” her mother said, loud enough to crash like cymbals around Isabel’s head. “She began to mourn then.”

Were divorce and death one to her mother? Will hadn’t lived long enough to give her a divorce—or answers. Why—how—had he fallen in love with her sister?

“Isabel?”

She turned and finally looked at Ben, praying the truth wouldn’t scream from her face.

He stepped away, his hands behind his back, his feet grinding loose gravel that barely covered the frozen mud. “What do you know?”

His question tied her tongue.

“I’ve been waiting for you to show up since the accident.” Anger made his voice deeper, richer than she’d ever heard it. “Come on. I need the facts and you know them.”

“Facts?” Stunned, she marveled at the act he’d put on in front of her parents.

“Tell me the truth.”

“You must know.” Three months ago, she’d been just as upset as he was now.

“You did know.” He turned on his heel as if he didn’t dare keep her within arm’s reach. “You knew and you left without telling me.”

“Why did you think I left?” There was so much hurt in his too-straight back she yearned to comfort him. She couldn’t even offer a straight answer until she knew what he’d learned on his own. How could she be the one who told him the truth about Tony?

“You and I were friends.” He faced her again. “I loved you—and Will. You walked out of my life and Tony’s. You let me find out my wife had an affair with your husband.” His eyes glittered. She’d never seen Ben cry. “You let me stumble onto the fact that Tony doesn’t even belong to me.”

What a hypocrite she’d been, moaning about betrayal. Her umbrella tilted in her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Who gives a damn about sorry?” Snow covered his black hair but melted on his face. Grief made him ugly.

“I thought I was dying for a while. I know I should have told you. I’d have felt betrayed if you’d left me living in a fake marriage, too, but I couldn’t find the words or the way to tell you.” His hard face didn’t soften. She started toward the car. “Faith was my sister.”

Ben pulled her to a stop. Her new black heels slid on the icy ground. She’d dressed to the teeth, and she intended to burn every stitch on her back as well as her purse and shoes. She was going to survive her husband’s lies without one reminder of this day.

“I’ll take you home so you can say goodbye to Tony.” He all but bared his teeth in a snarl. “But you and your parents are no longer welcome in my house.”

“I haven’t told them, either.”

“It’s a matter of time.”

“Stop manhandling me.” A scientist rather than a salesman like Will, Ben hadn’t perfected tact, but he’d never before carried a club. “If you keep us out of your house, people will notice something’s wrong. And Tony’s your son in all the ways that truly count.”

“You say that because you feel guilty. Eventually, you’ll realize you could raise your nephew. Do you think I don’t know how badly you want a child?”

“I wanted my husband’s child,” she said, feeling stupid and gullible again as she admitted it. “I thought I had a marriage.”

“You were trying to glue a broken marriage back together,” he said. “Same as me.”

“Did Will tell you that?” Damn him for trying to make her look bad.

“Didn’t you fall in love with someone who lives in Virginia?” Ben stepped back, clearly restraining himself again.

“Will lied.”

“He said you never wanted him. You turned him out of his own bed. You had an affair, and that drove him to Faith.”

“I drove him.” She hated the bewildered tears that threatened to shame her all over again. “Who are you going to believe? The man who slept with your wife, or the woman he also cheated on?”

“That’s an excuse, Isabel. You didn’t say anything.”

“Because I didn’t know how to warn you that you were living a lie? Did you ask yourself why I never called?”

“Will said you were probably avoiding Faith and me because Tony reminded you of the baby you wanted and didn’t have. That you left him because he didn’t want children. Then you turned to this other guy.”

“If he said he didn’t want children you know he was lying because he and Faith were taking their son.”

Ben stared at her, frustration in every breath that misted around his face. Finally, he hauled her over the frozen ground. Because she hadn’t wanted to hurt him, he seemed to be rattling the teeth out of her head. “Tony is my son.” Fear glazed his blue eyes. “My child will never belong to anyone else. He never has.”

“I’ve had it with men’s egos.” She hid behind her own anger. “Tony is my nephew. He’s lost his mom. Even Will loved him, and he’s gone, too.” A sob caught in her throat. “That baby must be scared every time someone he loves walks out of a room. I won’t give anyone an excuse to take him from you.”

The cemetery workers walked into her peripheral vision. Isabel stared from the men to the mound of fresh dirt they were leaving behind.

Will had destroyed her sense of self. She doubted her own instincts. She’d never choose to live with another lie, but she hated that mound of dirt. She pushed her palm against her mouth to keep from crying out.

Ben held her other hand close against his beating heart. In that moment, she realized Will would never come back. He’d never smile at her or criticize or lie or ask what she’d made for dinner again. “Never” weighed upon her with the force of all eternity.

A woman could hate the man who’d rejected her, but she couldn’t dance on his grave.

BEN HAD BARELY GLIMPSED the Deavers at the Fitzroy before they left. Isabel had worked the room on autopilot. She’d never remember a word anyone had said to her. As soon as decently possible Ben walked Isabel to her car. Unresisting, she let him help her into the passenger seat and then take her keys from her purse.

“I’ll drive,” he said, unsure she heard.

“Thanks. They were all kind, but I’m glad that’s over. I swear I could hear the questions they didn’t ask about Ben and me.”

Despite hating her almost as much as he hated Will and Faith, he couldn’t help wishing she didn’t care enough to hurt like this. “How can you grieve for him?”

“I miss them both. I wish I would have happily divorced him and told her I never wanted to see her again, but I don’t want them dead.” She searched in her purse for a Kleenex. “Do you?”

“I’m not sure.” Faith had left a note before she’d driven away with Will. She’d claimed Will had turned to her for comfort because Isabel had rejected him. If not for Isabel, they’d never have grown close enough to fall in love.

Even if it was true, was their adultery Isabel’s fault? Shouldn’t Will have fought for his marriage? Ben had known he and Faith had problems, but he’d never considered divorce.

Shutting Isabel’s door, he walked along the side of the car with his hand on the cold metal. His best friend had made love with Faith and created the baby who slept in a crib down the hall from Ben’s bedroom.

And Isabel had known. With a few words, she could take his son for her family. Eventually, she’d realize how badly he wanted to disappear with Tony.

He opened his door. Solemn and slender in her black dress and coat, her dark brown hair looped into a twisting chignon, she looked the part of a widow.

“Is my face dirty?” she asked. “Why are you staring?”

“I haven’t heard from you since you went,” he said, taking up where they’d left off before the reception.

“Now you know why.”

“You say you love Tony. How could you cut yourself off from him?” He had to understand before he could trust her.

“I love him more than anyone.” Isabel rubbed her pale cheek against one shoulder. “I’d been with him almost every day of his life until I found out the truth. He was like my own and Faith seemed to welcome my help. But after, I had to speak to her or you if I wanted to talk to him.”

“You could have hung up if she answered the phone.”

“I was mad at her, but I thought the second I heard your voice I might tell the truth.”

Relief hit him so hard it hurt. “I wish you had called. At least I’d have known in time to confront them. It was all over by the time I found out.” With a shaking hand, he turned the key in the ignition.

“Because they’re dead, Ben.”

“I might have killed them.”

“No.”

He was glad she sounded so sure. It made him think he might stop being the man who hated everyone.

“How long are you going to hate me?”

“Hate you? You’re all I have left.” As insane as he felt, he had to keep her on his side. He craved a large meal of revenge, but he wanted his son more. He shoved the gearshift into Drive and eased away from the slushy curb.

Until two years ago, they’d lived in the same neighborhood. Out of the blue one day, Faith had insisted they move to a different subdivision, close enough to reach his office in less than an hour. He’d thought she’d liked its slight edge in upscale chic. Now, he realized she’d needed a little distance from her lover. Living so close to Will must have strained her acting abilities.

Half an hour later, Ben turned into the brick-lined entrance of his neighborhood. Isabel’s car skidded as the tires lost traction in the snow.

He glanced at her, but her cynical smile, focused outside the vehicle, opened his eyes to the place where he lived.

Neat houses in neat rows, governed by rules and expectations that kept garbage cans and neighbors in their proper places. It looked pretty as long as no one peered inside.

He parked in front of the garage, and they both got out. Isabel’s smile had faded. She clung to the door, obviously in the grip of second thoughts.

A plan came to Ben, fully formed out of distrust. “Come see Tony. He’s still the baby you love.” The nearer he kept Isabel, the better he’d know what she was thinking. “The reception was difficult. This is going to be impossible.”

He opened the side door and waited. She stared at him and finally slogged through the snow, her head down, her breath coming so fast he could see her coat moving up and down with each respiration.

Faith’s spotless chrome-and-granite kitchen stood empty. Isabel peered, anxious as a hunted animal. He’d always hated the cold kitchen. One small frame in Faith’s picture of a perfect home.

He dropped his keys on the counter. “Wait here. I’ll let the sitter know I’ll take her home in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” But she glanced back at the door. She’d already proved her skills as a runaway.

He took a chance and left her there. He hoped she loved his son too much to leave. The sixteen-year-old girl from three streets over jumped off Faith’s white leather sofa as he entered the family room.

“Mr. Jordan.” She tended to watch adults like a spooked colt.

“We’re back, Patty.” He rarely understood adolescent girls, but he dealt with Patty by pretending it was normal for people to treat him like a burglar in the middle of a big job. “I brought Mrs. Barker to see Tony. Can you give us a few minutes and then I’ll drive you home?”

“He’s asleep.” She scooped up her coat and book bag. “I can walk.”

“Your parents would kill me.” He looked out the wide bay windows. “The snow’s getting heavier. I’ll be glad to take you.”

He headed back to the kitchen, more sure his jumpy sitter would remain than he was that he’d find Isabel where he’d left her. Miraculously, she’d waited.

His blood seemed to flow at light speed—a tremble in his fingers, a roar in his ears. Adrenaline. If he didn’t hit something soon, his head might explode.

“Tony’s napping.” He tried to sound natural, but he felt as if he were outside his body looking down. “He won’t wake up if we’re quiet.” He led Isabel to the stairs she’d climbed many times before.

At the top, his son’s door stood partially open. Patty had stacked the baby’s toys on a plain chest at the end of the too-ornate crib. Lamps that wouldn’t survive a boy’s first in-the-house football game lit the room with soft warmth.

Tony lay on his back, his arms and legs spread as if he were flying. Heat finally crept back into Ben’s body as he watched Tony sleep. He hadn’t lost everything in that accident. His son had survived. His son.

Isabel leaned on the crib’s raised rail. She’d been in this house, bent over this crib, taken care of Tony almost as much as Faith.