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The Bad Son
The Bad Son
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The Bad Son

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Her head jerked up. “What?”

“It’s a senior partnership, a salary to match and a corner office with a view of the city. The perks are unbelievable.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re moving to Dallas?”

“I have to let them know by the end of the week.”

“But your life and your family are here.”

“It’s not an easy decision to make.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and he noticed her hand shook slightly—the only sign that his leaving bothered her. His pulse skipped a beat.

She stuffed the clothes back into the bags, the neatly folded ones jumbled together. “You’re my best friend. I depend on you for so many things. I whine on your shoulder and tell you my secrets.”

This was it. He had to say out loud what he’d been avoiding for years. She had to know how he felt. He swallowed, never realizing how hard this would be. “Have you ever thought that we could be more than friends?” He waited, and his breath lodged in his throat like sawdust.

Macy didn’t answer. She just kept stuffing the baby items into the bags. That made him angry. He deserved an answer.

“Macy, did you hear me?”

“Beau, please, I…ah…” She didn’t look at him and that fueled his anger and his frustration.

“I don’t want to be just your friend. I want more. I want to have a life with you in every way that counts—a home and a family.”

She picked up the bags and her blue eyes met his. “I realize you’ve worked hard for this advancement.”

He frowned. “Is that all you can say? I just told you that…”

“I’ll miss you,” she muttered.

It took a few seconds for him to catch his breath. “I’ll miss you, too.” He sighed, waiting for a miracle he knew wasn’t going to happen. This was it. The final goodbye.

“I better get this stuff to my place and find room for it.” She moved toward the door and glanced back.

They stared at each other. Beau wanted to say so much but for a man who was used to talking, words suddenly seemed useless.

“Will you be leaving soon?” she asked.

“I have to let them know by the end of the week, but it will probably be a month before I leave Waco.”

“You’ll let me know.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t feel he needed to.

They kept staring at each other. Years of friendship hung in the balance. Those years melted away into a moment of intense pain. Without another word, she turned and headed to her condo.

Beau flopped onto the sofa and buried his face in his hands. His leaving was about Macy, just like his mother had said. But he already knew that. He’d tried to take their friendship to another level, but she made it abundantly clear that wasn’t happening. He was never going to have a life with her, share her bed, her hopes, her dreams and her future.

It was over.

And the truth of that hurt more than he ever thought possible.

MACY PACED in her living room, Lucky and Lefty matching every step. Beau was leaving. That was all she could think. She never saw it coming and she should have. She should have known she couldn’t have Beau forever. Not this way. He needed more and so did she.

I want to have a life with you in every way that counts—a home and a family.

When he’d said those words, she’d wanted to accept everything he was offering. But she couldn’t. Why not?

The monster under the bed reared its ugly head and fear gripped her, held her a prisoner of her own emotions. Tell him about your marriage. Tell him the truth. The thoughts tantalized and teased, but the monster still held her captive. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t handle another rejection. It was time to let Beau go so he could find a woman who could give him everything he deserved—like the family he wanted.

To keep from torturing herself, she opened the box with the bassinet and realized her hands were shaking. Sucking in a calming breath, she decided to put it together herself. She could do it. She didn’t need Beau. After reading the instructions, she grabbed her tool-box—something Beau had insisted she have for when he fixed things at her place.

A sob escaped and she fought tears. No. She wouldn’t cry.

She forced herself to study the instructions. All she had to do was connect the stand to the body of the bassinet. Simple. A Phillips screwdriver was required. She stared at the set of screwdrivers. Which one?

“Mmm.” She glanced at Lucky. “Which is the Phillips screwdriver?”

Lucky barked and sniffed the tools. “Don’t know either, do you?”

Lucky barked louder and Lefty got in on the act.

“Quiet,” she ordered. “I have to think.”

It couldn’t be all that hard. Studying the screws, she picked a screwdriver to match the grooves. She shouted for joy and the dogs barked again.

“Shh.” It took a lot of strength and patience, but she worked on until she had the bassinet attached to the base.

Sinking back on her heels, she looked at her handiwork. It was beautiful—all white and delicate. Through her defenses slipped another memory of a precious bassinet trimmed with satin and lace.

No. No. No.

She leaped to her feet, shoved the memory away and collapsed onto the sofa. Gathering her dogs into her arms, she felt as if her world had just collapsed. The monster under the bed now controlled her and she was the only one who could turn on the light and reveal the secret she’d kept hidden in her heart.

Beau wanted her to ask him to stay. She saw it in his eyes—that’s how well she knew him, and she’d wanted to. But she didn’t have anything to offer him, except friendship.

Sometimes late at night when she wished his arms were around her, she’d wondered how long she’d have him. How long would they be friends before he’d want more? He was a man, after all. She’d seen him go out on dates and though it broke her heart she never did anything to stop it. Just like she’d do nothing to stop him leaving.

A tear trickled out of the corner of her eye, then another followed. She tasted the saltiness on her lips and the dogs whined at her distress. Freckles slinked along the back of the sofa and rested on her shoulder. She stroked them so they’d know she was okay.

But she wasn’t.

Beau had said that she had more energy than anyone he knew. She had to keep going, doing until she exhausted herself. That way her mind was too tired to dream dreams she shouldn’t—like having a husband and a family. She’d had the fairy tale. Now she lived with the nightmare.

She would never marry again, but she would always love Beau. How she wished she could tell him that and share her secret. Allen was the only one who knew. Not even her parents had known what had happened in her marriage. It was her own personal pain.

Beau was leaving.

More tears followed and she didn’t bother to brush them away. She needed to cry, to cleanse away the heartache and to find the strength to say goodbye to Beau.

That night as she lay in bed her arms ached to hold him, to see the warmth in his eyes, feel his body against hers and to fulfill a need in her that she’d been denying for a long time. She wanted Beau in all the ways a woman wanted a man she loved.

Tell him.

The silence mingled with the darkness and the fear in her was very real, holding her back. Turning the light on wouldn’t help. She’d still be the same person, a person no one could love.

Living without Beau was better than living with his rejection, which inevitably would come. Tomorrow she’d be better. Tomorrow she’d be busy with Delia and the baby. Tomorrow she would find the strength to face a future without Beau.

CHAPTER FOUR

TOSSING AND TURNING, Beau had a restless night. Toward dawn he gave up the struggle, showered and dressed. Today was the beginning of a new Beau—a new life. He wasn’t pining for Macy anymore. The pain of her rejection was still very raw, but he’d survive.

He had several things he wanted to do today. First, he intended to buy a baseball glove for Ben, drive out to the farm, and teach him how to use it. He would enjoy that as much as Ben. Second, he planned to talk to his mother again and try to make her understand that the McCain family was strong and stable.

As he backed out of his drive, he didn’t see a light in Macy’s condo. She’d probably already left for the hospital. He knew she’d have a constant vigil there and wear herself out completely. He grimaced at his thoughts. Rule number one—he had to stop thinking and worrying about Macy. Rule number two—same as above.

He checked in at his office, then headed for a sporting goods store.

MACY SLEPT VERY LITTLE. As the sun crept through the clouds, she was jogging through the neighborhood breathing in the early morning breeze. At fifty degrees the air was fresh and invigorating. The oaks, elms and ash trees stood stiffly from the brunt of winter, but renewed energy filled the atmosphere with the inviting taste of spring. The stiffness would give way to a burst of new life, color and growth.

As uplifting as the outdoors was, it couldn’t stop her thoughts. She cursed herself for being a coward and not telling Beau the truth. In not doing so she’d hurt him and that kept her in turmoil. But she’d done the right thing. Letting Beau go was best for him. Now she had to make herself believe that.

When she returned to the condo, she got ready to go to the hospital. She was eager to see Delia and the baby. The phone rang just as she grabbed her purse. It was the lady at the animal shelter—they had a dog that needed help. She quickly made the trip to the shelter.

“Hi, Judy,” she said, walking into the building that always smelled of disinfectant. Barking dogs could be heard from the back.

“Macy.” Judy stood at a counter writing something in a notebook, her features marked with sadness. “I was just fixing to call you.”

“Why?”

“The dog died about five minutes ago.”

“Oh.” Her expression crumbled and a tear slipped from her eye. “What happened?”

“Two neighbors were arguing over the dog. He kept getting into the neighbor’s yard; digging in the flowerbeds and making a mess. The neighbor repeatedly told the owner to keep the dog in his own yard. But the owner didn’t comply. The neighbor caught the dog digging again and he kicked him into the fence, injuring him. The dog was lifeless, so he called us. When we phoned the owner, he said we could keep him. Nice, huh?”

Macy only nodded.

“A report has been filed with the police department, but other than that there’s nothing we can do. The vet said his internal injuries were too severe. I’m sorry.”

Macy nodded again, her vocal cords locked.

“Thank you, Macy, for caring so much. I knew if the dog had a chance, it would be with you.”

She turned toward the door.

“Macy.”

She looked back.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She found her voice. “I’m fine, but sometimes this kind of cruelty gets to me. I’ll talk to you later.”

In her car, the tears flowed freely and she made no effort to stop them. After a moment she gained control. She was stronger than this. She had to be. And it was tomorrow—a new beginning with Delia and her baby.

Her mind set, her resolve strong, she drove to the hospital anxious to see how her sister and niece were doing. The hospital administrator and Macy’s supervisor were in the office next to the nursery. Macy wondered what was going on. As she reached for scrubs to go into the nursery her supervisor, Harriet, called to her.

“Macy, may I speak with you, please?”

Macy followed her into the office and shook hands with Mike Goodman, the administrator. “We have a problem,” he said.

She immediately thought the tests had come back and something was seriously wrong with Zoë. A feeling of déjà vu came over her. She braced herself for what she knew was coming.

Mike handed her a note. “The night nurse found this on your sister’s bed this morning.”

She stared down at the paper in her hand. Scribbled in large letters was: Macy, I can’t do this. I can’t deal with a sick baby. Take care of Zoë. Delia

Trying to calm her erratic pulse, she took a deep breath. Delia had left—without her baby. Macy hadn’t expected this, but then Delia had been acting strange since she’d showed up on the doorstep. Had she planned this all along? Or had fear gotten the best of her? Macy experienced a moment of anger and sadness.

“We’ve contacted Child Protective Services,” Harriet said. “It’s standard procedure when a baby is abandoned. You know that.”

A deep sense of unease filled her. If they called CPS, that meant they were turning the baby over to them—to strangers. No way would she let that happen. She would take care of Zoë until Delia returned.

“I’m the baby’s aunt and my sister says in the note for me to care for Zoë. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“The hospital has to follow procedure or we could be liable if something happened to the baby.” Mike made his position clear. “If you want the baby, I suggest you hire a lawyer and make it legal. I’m sure CPS will be willing to work with you and I’d be happy to vouch for your character.” His cell rang. “Excuse me.” As he took the call, Harriet pulled her to the side.

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. If you really want to keep the baby, call a lawyer. But it’s the weekend and you won’t be able to hire one until Monday.”

“Thanks, Harriet. I’m aware of the rules, but this is my niece and I don’t want her to go to strangers. I can take care of her.”

“Well, the baby’s test results haven’t come back yet so you probably have until Monday before they move Zoë.”

Macy walked out into the hall feeling numb. How could Delia do this? What was she thinking? This was typical of her sister, though. She always ran when things got rough, but she just had a baby and needed rest and care. Where was she? Delia, what have you done? Please call me. I’ll help you. She turned her thoughts to a more pressing matter—finding a way to keep Zoë.

She knew a lawyer—a good one. Calling Beau was out of the question, though. She’d hurt him enough. She couldn’t just pick up the phone and call as if nothing had happened between them. She’d find another lawyer.

Walking to the large picture window of the nursery, she watched Zoë, her little chest moving up and down. If she did have a heart problem, she would need someone to love and care for her, to give her their undivided attention. In foster homes, there were usually several children and special attention wouldn’t be a priority. Zoë moved her tiny hand and Macy’s heart contracted. She couldn’t allow her to go to strangers. In that instant, she knew she’d do anything to keep her.

Even call Beau.

BEAU CAME OUT of the sporting goods store with the best baseball glove he could buy. He’d even bought a new ball, the kind used in Little League. Now he’d drive out to the farm and surprise Jake and his family. That would help him to feel better and to get another perspective on his decision.

As he climbed into his car, his cell rang. Macy. Why was she calling him? He started to ignore it, but he wasn’t sixteen. He was an adult and could handle talking to her.

“Hello.”