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“Aunt Abby. Aunt Abby!” he called in the high-pitched tenor of a small child.
“You rascal. Is the movie done already?” she asked as the boy stopped just before crashing into her. She leaned over and scooped him into her arms and stood. He grinned ear to ear and when he did, a big dimple showed in one cheek.
Reed hadn’t missed the look of alarm on the woman’s face when the boy opened the door. He hadn’t missed the look of love, either, as she clasped him in her arms.
“Gramma’s on the phone and she said to go out and tell you to stop ’gnoring her.”
She shot a look at Reed and rolled her eyes. “I have to go. I have a mother, too.”
“Ask her if I can come to her house, please, please, please,” the boy said with one small hand pressed to her cheek as Abby carried him up to the door. She turned and gave Reed an uncertain wave before disappearing into the house.
He couldn’t help but wonder if she were for real.
She seemed so, well, nice, and she could carry a forty-five-pound child as if he weighed five pounds and she seemed to enjoy it. Definitely not like most women in his life.
He headed back to the apartment to retrieve the ad dresses he should have brought with him. Very tired.
The sooner he found Jesse, the better. If he brought his brother back home for their mother to apologize to, his part would be finished. He could get back to running his business. His partner could feel as if he had a partner again.
Abby Fairbanks thought his brother was cute. He hadn’t thought of Jesse as cute—ever. He was only two years older than Jesse, and had missed being aware of Jesse’s cute stage, maybe because he was too young himself at the time.
Who would know? Some long-gone nanny?
Reed thought of the smiling face of the little boy who had come running out of the house. The boy was cute also, not that Reed usually noticed such things; kids didn’t play much of a role in his life. When the boy had come out onto the porch, grinning, he had that same familiar look about him. Though all little blond kids looked alike to him, this one was definitely the kid in the picture on Jesse’s bedside table.
ABBY SENT KYLE TO TALK to his grandmother for a couple minutes while she wrung her hands, gnashed her teeth and wondered. How far should she have pushed her sister to find out if Jesse was Kyle’s father? More important, would Kyle gain anything by knowing right now who his father was?
And then there was her mother’s latest crisis—finding a husband, preferably one for her daughter and one for herself. There was always some urgent necessity in her mother’s life. Usually Abby felt like the only sane adult member of her family. Today, even that was iffy.
One thing she agreed upon with her mother was the light Kyle had brought into their lives. Her mother turned uncharacteristically responsible when Kyle was around. If Delanna Fairbanks kept it up, she might actually figure out she was all right by herself just the way she was, and so was Abby.
Kyle giggled in the other room. Abby sighed. She had to talk to her mother sooner or later.
When she went into the living room the phone was missing from its usual spot on the low wooden table beside the window. She didn’t see Kyle, but the chocolate-colored thermal drapes, which had been pulled back to let in the summer light, fluttered in the still indoor air.
She sneaked up and called softly into the fabric. “Boo.”
Kyle squealed with delight and pulled the curtain away from his face. “Aunt Abby, you got me. Bye, Gramma. Here.” He shoved the phone at her and tore off for wherever it was a boy went when the adult in charge was busy on the telephone.
“Finish picking up your toys,” she called after him and then said into the phone, “Hi, Mom. I didn’t give a single thought to going out with you and the undertaker guys.”
“Liar, liar.” Her mother laughed on the other end. “You’ve been doing nothing but thinking of ways to turn me down. The Fullers are such nice men and I think they prefer to be called funeral directors.”
“Yeah, well. There’s always hope you’ll come to your senses and realize I’m old enough to choose my own dates.”
“You might be old enough, honey, but you’re not willing enough. Anyway, that’s not why I called.”
“Thank God!” Abby perched on the arm of the chair by the window.
“I’ll be thanking God when you’re not an old maid anymore.”
“Gee, Mom, I love you, too. Why did you call if it wasn’t to point out my shortcomings?”
“Oh, I called about that, too.”
“Mother.”
“Lighten up, Abbs. I called to badger you into letting Kyle come and stay with his beloved grandmother for a few days.”
“Beloved grandmother—that would be you I take it?”
“You’re a very funny child. I know it’s weird, but I love being his Gramma.”
“He’s that kind of kid.”
“So, can he come?”
Abby knew this would happen one day. He already stayed with his grandmother while Abby worked and if she ever had a life, her mother offered to take him all evening. Even all night, her mother had said with a sly grin. Kyle did love his grandmother. He took to her the first time he met her and she might be where he inherited his charm.
“How about Saturday, the day after tomorrow? He has a birthday party to go to in the morning and I’ll bring him over afterward.” Abby purposely kept the anxiety out of her tone. Letting go was hard, but she had to do it eventually. They probably wouldn’t let her room with him in college.
“Hallelujah and praise the Lord,” her mother almost shouted into the phone. “Saturday would be great.”
“And, Mom, you’ll probably hear soon enough, but Jesse’s brother is in town.”
“Well, that is a surprise. Talk about a dysfunctional family. If what Jesse said is true, they make us seem sort of normal. Is he looking to see if Jesse left any money behind for him?”
Abby thought of the expensive, if rumpled, clothing Jesse’s brother wore.
“I don’t think so, and I’m not so sure Jesse was right about his family, at least not all of them. The brother seems to be, well, normal.”
“Does he know where Jesse might have gone?”
“No. Apparently they haven’t heard from Jesse in over a year.”
“Yup. We’re the normal ones.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
“So what’s the brother like and what’s his name?”
“His name is Reed Maxwell and he’s tall, dark, handsome. Not my type.”
“You’re killing me here, kid. What’s not to like about this one?”
“Hmm, let’s see. He lives in Chicago and I don’t know much about him for starters.” Except that he’s sexy and…never mind.
“Is he too rich for you or something?”
“He might be.” He might also be Kyle’s uncle. That would stop her mother cold.
“Why’s he here in St. Adelbert?”
“He seems to be truly concerned about his mother. She wants to see Jesse badly.” For reasons her mother didn’t need to know. What Reed told her didn’t seem to be appropriate grapevine fodder.
“So the mother loves her kids, and they might not be so bad after all. Are you done dodging my question about the undertakers?”
“I thought they were funeral directors, and you haven’t worn me down enough.” At least she had dropped the subject of Reed Maxwell.
“A mother wants better for her children.” The tenor of her mother’s voice dropped and so did Abby’s desire to be flippant about the subject. Her mother did want better for Lena and her.
“I am grateful for that,” Abby said.
“Grateful enough to go out to dinner with me?”
“And?”
Her mother sighed in an exaggerated manner.
“And Kenny Fuller and his son, Travis. Come on, Abby. I think becoming a nurse turned you into a fuddy-duddy.”
“Let’s see. You mean since I learned how to take care of myself and didn’t need a mother to get dates for me?”
“Stop that. All right, if you really must know. I can’t get Kenny to ask me out and I’m afraid he’ll say no if I ask him. This valley is so small, I can’t waste a chance like that. But if I tell him that we can get the two of you to go out if we go along, he’ll say yes. He has to—you’re a great catch.”
“Mother!” Abby found herself comparing Travis Fuller to Reed Maxwell and her enthusiasm for the double date diminished even more.
“Yeah, Mother, that’s me. Kenny’s a nice, respectable man. Both of them are, and if he gives me a chance, he’ll find out I’m a different woman than I was when we first lived here.”
“You’re a good woman, Mom. You always were.”
“You have to say that. You’re my kid. Have you heard from Lena?”
“Not since the email I got last week. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.” It had actually been twelve days and Abby wondered if it was time to escalate to worry. “And I’ll drop Kyle off in the morning tomorrow as usual and pick him up when I’m finished at the clinic.”
“I’ll see you, and maybe I’ll get a date planned while you’re at work then.”
“Don’t do it on my account.”
“Goodbye, you ungrateful child.”
“Bye, Mom.”
Abby put the handset in the cradle, sat back and folded her arms across her chest.
She wanted to ask her mother if Lena had ever talked about Kyle’s father, but knew it would do no good. If Lena had said anything, their mother would have said it didn’t matter or it wasn’t important. That’s what she had always told them when they asked, demanded, or even begged her to tell them about their father. He packed up and left when Abby was six and Lena was a toddler. The last thing Abby remembered about her father was him yelling at her mother about having to spend too much money on a kid for Christmas, more specifically, the doll Abby had to have.
She thought about Reed and Jesse’s parents. She at least had one good one, not perfect, but good.
After a few moments, she turned an ear to the house. Quiet. Way too quiet.
“Kyle?” When he didn’t answer, she called louder. Still no answer. He had to be outside.
She stopped at the kitchen window and looked out into the yard. Reed Maxwell stood on the top landing of the apartment stairs, watching something below. A perplexed, contemplative look skewed his features.
Abby leaned closer to the window to see what he was looking at. A deer? A flock of wild turkeys? A bear?
Whatever it was, it was out there with Kyle.
CHAPTER THREE
ABBY FLEW OUT THE BACK door without another thought and stopped abruptly on the back porch. No deer or turkeys or bears. No fascinating or dangerous wildlife at all. In the shade of the tree, in the sandbox, Kyle sat pouring sand into his big yellow dump truck.
Abby studied Reed on the landing outside the garage apartment. The look of speculation on his face suddenly made sense.
He knew.
Reed Maxwell knew or at least suspected Kyle might be his nephew. He acknowledged her presence with a nod and then glanced down at his phone.
Abby wanted to tear across the yard, grab Kyle and run as fast and as far away as she could, but she stayed where she was, holding her breath. If she overreacted now she might stir up something that was best left untouched. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything about Kyle and Jesse, but a strong reaction from her might start Reed on a path he might otherwise not have thought to tread.
She figured he had gone on his fact-finding mission in St. Adelbert, although it wouldn’t have done any good. If any of the townspeople knew anything, they would have spoken up, if not to her, then to the sheriff, and Sheriff Potts would have told her.
What if Jesse’s brother pressed her for information about Kyle? Could she lie? Tell him she had no ideas about Jesse and Kyle?
Kyle played on, oblivious to both adults.
What she would not do was run. She had run in the past—more than once—from St. Adelbert to the big city. When the big city beat her down, she ran back to the small town, dragging her sister and Kyle with her. Her sister in turn convinced Jesse to come to the St. Adelbert Valley where the four of them lived for a short while in a loose family-like structure.
Abby had even bought this house in an attempt to anchor them all here, for all the good it had done. If St. Adelbert wasn’t safe, where in the world was?
She chanced a glance at Reed.
Backlit clouds played at the tops of the mountains behind him as the sun had already begun making its way down into late-afternoon sky. He lowered his phone and reached up to push his hair back. He seemed to be trying to make a decision. To get closer to Kyle for a better look? Snap his picture? To grab the boy and make a run back to Chicago?
His phone rang. He gave it a look of distaste, and then he thumbed the screen, stepped back inside the apartment and closed the door.
Abby huffed out a breath of relief and Kyle filled his dump truck with more sand. He was a dear child, the perfect mix of sweet and rambunctious. Imagining life without him in it, even for a little while, had her rubbing the ache in her chest.
“Kyle, sweetie,” she called and when he looked up, “come on in. We’ll go get a present for Angus’s birthday party.”
Kyle jumped up, flinging sand from his clothes.
“Is it today?” His voice squealed with the glee of a five-year-old anticipating his best friend’s birthday party.
“No. Today’s Thursday and the party is Saturday. Can you figure out how long that is?”
His face scrunched up and he silently began to mouth the days of the week as he held up successive fingers. His face lit. “Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Three days.”
