Wild Honey. Veronica Sattler
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Wild Honey - Veronica Sattler страница 10

Название: Wild Honey

Автор: Veronica Sattler

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

Серия:

isbn:

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ him they all owed themselves a night on the town to celebrate.

      So he’d gone with them from one watering hole to the next. Drinking more than he ever had or likely would again. Taking their dare had been the most singularly immature act of his so-called manhood.

      Yet he’d done it. Despite the host of misgivings that plagued him when he realized what he’d committed himself to. From the moment he awoke with a king-size hangover the next morning till the instant, two days later, he walked through the clinic’s doors, he’d regretted that commitment.

      His discomfort level had been acute. He’d always loved kids. The mere thought of a child of his walking around somewhere without him left a bad taste in his mouth.

      “Ah, hell!” Travis shifted restlessly on the bed, his mind swinging mercilessly back to that time.

      All the regret in the world hadn’t swayed him. He’d honored that commitment, no matter how stupid it seemed in the harsh light of day. Because honor was the operative term here. A McLean didn’t welsh on a dare.

      Another fact of the immaturity that characterized the whole mess, he told himself grimly. A mature man would have gone to Jenkins and Henley and told them flat out that it was a dumb idea. That it violated an underlying code of ethics he intended to live by, and that was that.

      But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d rationalized, telling himself his donation was a selfless act; he hadn’t sold the specimen, after all, as some impecunious med students were rumored to do. What’s more, he’d told himself, he would probably be making some childless couple very happy.

      That was what he told himself whenever a twinge of conscience nagged him over the years. And eventually the twinges grew fewer and farther between. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even thought about it.

      But he did remember. He’d thought about it not an hour ago. Very likely spurred by a subliminal recognition of a face he’d seen before, even if it took a while for his conscious mind to make the connection. And now that kid…

      Closing his eyes, he pictured the child—all big blue eyes and engaging grin under a cap of unruly blond curls. Curls exactly like his. And he’d hugged Terhune.

      Dammit, there was no getting away from facts. In his line of work, lives often depended on the ability to quickly assess the facts at hand, no matter how meager, and draw conclusions from them. And right now, the few facts he had were leading him to one earthshaking conclusion: that kid could very likely be his son!

      

      JILL TERHUNE eyed her sister with concern as she handed Randi a mug of decaf. They were in the kitchen of the house they shared, inherited from the great-aunt who’d raised them after their stepfather’s death. Matt had gone next door to play with Robbie Spencer the minute they got home, so it was just the two of them. Jill could finally pursue what had been on her mind since picking Randi up.

      “Wanna tell me about it?” The older sister kept her voice casual, pouring herself a coffee and taking a seat across the table from Randi.

      Randi glanced up from her mug with a look of surprise. “Tell you about what?”

      “Whatever it is that’s got you so on edge.” Jill smiled to soften her words. “You’ve been strung tighter than a guitar string ever since I picked you up from work.”

      Randi grinned sheepishly. “That obvious, huh?”

      Jill grinned back. “It’s me, pipsqueak—ol’ eagle eye, Jill the pill, remember?”

      Randi laughed, relaxing for the first time since the upsetting encounter in the ER. Jill’s use of their childhood names for each other could do that. It could also evoke a host of memories. Memories that bound them, reminding them of what they were to each other. Of the love between them, shared gladly these four years with the small boy they both adored.

      Suddenly Randi frowned. Was her sister the only one who’d noted her unease? Besides half the ER staff? “Jill, do you think Matt noticed…”

      Jill laughed and shook her head. “Fortunately he was too wrapped up in the news about the Spencers’ new baby—even if she isn’t the brother Robbie’d been hoping for.”

      “True,” Randi said with a chuckle. “Remember when he told us Robbie had put in an order for a boy?”

      Jill chuckled, too. “And if it turned out to be a girl, he was going to tell his mother to send her back?”

      “Uh-huh. And then he asked if we could…Oh, God!” Randi dropped her face into her hands. Matt had asked if they could order a baby brother for him.

      Jill reached across the table and gently touched her sister’s shoulder. “Randi, what is it?”

      Randi collected herself, lowering her hands and reaching for her coffee. She took a sip and heaved a sigh. “I’d love to be able to give Matt a baby brother or sister, but…I can’t.”

      “Not by going the route you used to conceive Matt, I agree.” Jill knew her conservative sister was troubled by misgivings over the ethics of what she’d done in that clinic, despite her reluctance to voice them. But they were close; she needn’t be a mind reader to tune in to Randi’s feelings.

      “But last I heard,” Jill went on, “the more conventional means of having kids hasn’t gone out of style. Randi, you’re only thirty-two. That’s hardly over the hill. I mean, look at me. I’ll be marrying at thirty-four. You could still meet someone special, if only you’d—”

      “Jill.” Randi said her name softly, but to Jill it had the impact of a shout The topic was not to be pursued. They’d been over this before, always with the same result: Randi wanted no part of dating. No part of men and marriage. Of sex. Although she’d never put it to Jill in those terms.

      The problem was that Jill was certain she knew why but could say nothing to Randi about it. Your sister’s not yet ready to deal with the deepest roots of her emotional distress, Jill. Dr. Carol Martin’s words threaded through her mind as she and Randi quietly sipped their coffees. Beyond that, I can tell you nothing. Her sessions with me—like yours—are entirely confidential….

      Jill could still see the counselor’s face on the day she’d told her this. It had been calm, relaxed. But by then Jill and Carol had known each other several years and become friends. So Jill had been able to see that, while her face was professionally neutral, Carol’s eyes were troubled. Because on that day, Randi had elected to end her counseling.

      Carol had urged Randi to continue, but to no avail. Basing her decision solely on the fact that Carol had declared her sister healed of the emotional wounds of sexual abuse, Randi had reasoned she must be healed, as well.

      If Carol says you’re okay and ready to get on with your life, I should be, too. Now it was Randi’s words that drifted through Jill’s mind, spoken in reply to Jill’s asking her why she wasn’t returning to Martin’s office. After all, Jill, darling, you were the one—I mean, I was only a frightened witness, wasn’t I?

      But Jill knew otherwise. She’d seen their stepfather coming out of Randi’s room, too, during that terrible time after their mother died. More than once. He’d been abusing Randi, too.

      But Randi apparently had no СКАЧАТЬ