A Father's Sacrifice. Karen Sandler

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      “I just want to do what’s right, Nina.”

      The fervency in his simple vow clutched at her heart. She hardened herself against the feeling. “Then why won’t you just go?” Away from them. Out of their lives.

      Jameson’s throat worked. “Because he needs me.”

      “He doesn’t even know you.”

      “But he still needs me.”

      He pulled away then, giving her a wide berth as he headed for the door. She waited until she was certain he was gone, then hurried over to lock the front dead bolt, giving the handle a tug to be certain the bolt was thrown. She had to resist the irrational urge to further bar the door by pulling a table in front of it.

      Keys in hand, she wound her way back through the dining area, her steps moving faster as she moved through the kitchen. Taking the back stairs two at a time, she quickly ran through a mental list of necessities she would have to take with her.

      They had to escape. It was the only way to keep Nate safe—from a father he didn’t know, from the risk of being stolen from his home, ripped from his mother’s arms. Their only option was to flee.

      Stepping quietly into Nate’s room, she slid the closet door open and retrieved the small suitcase her son used on his overnights with Grandma and Grandpa. She could load it with enough changes of clothing for two or three days, then buy whatever else they needed on the road. His toy chest wouldn’t possibly fit in the trunk of her small car so she’d have to pick a few of his favorites to bring. It would be hard to explain why he’d have to leave behind so many beloved treasures, but she had no choice.

      She set the suitcase on the floor beside Nate’s dresser and pulled open the top drawer. Best to take extra underwear. Nate hadn’t had an accident in months, but with the stress of leaving home, he might regress. She grabbed up a handful and was about to drop it in the suitcase when she heard a light rap on the apartment door.

      There was no doubt who’d just knocked. There was no denying him entry. He’d probably pound the door even harder, and Nate would wake.

      A handful of Nate’s Spider-Man underwear gathered close to her chest, Nina went to open the door. Jameson stood on her small landing, head down, shoulders slumped. His head swung up and his gaze took in the small bundle in her arms.

      “Please don’t leave, Nina.”

      “I wasn’t—” She cut off the transparent lie. “I only want to keep him safe.”

      “So do I. I swear it to you.”

      “But if you take him, pull him away from the only home he’s known…”

      Jameson stared down at her, his silence just as damning as the spoken truth. What could she have been thinking? Tearing Nate from everything familiar to him, the grandparents he loved deeply…whose safety would she preserve by running away?

      Tears burned her eyes, tightened her throat. “I don’t want to marry you.”

      “I know I’m not nearly the man you deserve.” He held his hands out, palms up as if seeking his future…or coming to terms with his past. “Until now, I’ve made nothing of myself. Yet somehow I created something good, something right. I can’t just walk away from that.”

      “But why marry me? Can’t you be part of his life without that?”

      “I want him to see us together. He needs us both.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “Give me two years, Nina. Just two. Enough for Nate and me to get to know each other, to build a bond. Then, as long as I’m still in his life…we wouldn’t have to stay married.”

      She wanted to say no. Uniting herself with Jameson terrified her. Her careful control over her life would be shifted if she let another person in.

      She had to say no.

      He reached for her as if to stop the word he must have sensed. “Please, Nina. Marry me.”

      Dragging in a breath, she groped for strength. “Yes. I will.”

      Late afternoon sunshine filtering through the pines striped Main Street with gold and set off an inexplicable ache in Nina’s chest. She’d forced herself to sit on the bench in front of the café, unwilling to give in to the nervous energy skittering up and down her body. Jameson leaned against the mailbox out in front of Janine’s Style & Cut, his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans. He stood perfectly still and she might have believed his false air of calm if she didn’t see the tight set of his jaw, the convulsive working of his throat.

      “Shouldn’t he be here by now?” Jameson asked, his tone rough and impatient.

      “Ten more minutes,” she promised. “The preschool bus drops him off at three-thirty.”

      He lapsed back into silence, his gaze fixed on the Hart Valley Inn across the street. The innkeeper, Beth Henley, stepped out with her broom to sweep the walk, and she smiled and waved at Nina. She directed her friendly smile toward Jameson and he gave her a brusque nod in response. Nina could see the questions in Beth’s face when the innkeeper turned back to her, but Nina wouldn’t be giving anyone any answers until she’d broken the news to the three most important people in her life.

      Once she’d acquiesced to Jameson’s proposal last night, they sat in her small living room and spoke quietly about what would happen next. They planned to tell Nate first, as soon as he returned from preschool. Nina had already arranged to have dinner at her parents’ tonight where she would make her announcement to the rest of her small family.

      Jameson shifted, pushing away from the mailbox to pace a few steps along the curb before returning to his post. “You didn’t say anything to him this morning?”

      “I already told you—”

      “I know, I know. We agreed we’d wait until we could tell him together. Sorry. I’m just…”

      He paced again from the mailbox to the newspaper racks just beyond the café, then retraced his steps. Nina was grateful Jameson had stayed away for most of the day—he’d had business to attend to in Sacramento. It had given her the space to come to terms with the decision she’d made. If she’d had to cope with his explosive edginess along with her own swings from hysteria to terror to overwhelming self-doubt, she might have run screaming down Main Street.

      His brief absence had given her enough time to call Andrea Jarret and ask if she could fill in at the café this afternoon and evening. Nina had hated to impose since Andrea was teaching full-time now at Hart Valley Elementary. But Andrea was delighted to help. In fact, Andrea’s stepdaughter Jessie had been bugging Andrea about when they could work at the café again. The ten-year-old had had so much fun a couple months ago relieving Nina when her father had his heart attack, she’d been begging to do it again.

      Yanking his hands from his pockets, Jameson turned to face her. “Maybe you were right. You should tell him, without me there. It would be easier—” The torrent of words cut off as he caught sight of the small yellow school bus approaching up Main Street.

      Nina rose from the bench and stepped to the curb as the bus pulled up. Used to racing inside the café to look for her, Nate was surprised to see her waiting. He walked slowly toward her, his dark СКАЧАТЬ