Jessie's Child. Lois Dyer Faye

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      She shuddered. Having her brothers learn a Kerrigan was “the SOB who bailed” would only make their reaction worse.

      She wondered how much more difficult it would be to tell Zach.

      If I decide to tell him, I’ll make an appointment to see him and do it in person. She didn’t relish the thought. Though she was convinced she’d moved on and put her feelings about that night behind her, she knew delivering the news about Rowdy wouldn’t be easy.

      Would he be angry? She hadn’t a clue.

      Probably not, she thought. Statistics prove a high percentage of men in America don’t have any interest in children beyond the act of conception.

      Would he want to be involved in Rowdy’s life or would he choose to remain anonymous?

      Ah, now that was the most important question, she realized. And the one that worried her most.

      She could bear Zach’s anger and her parents’ disappointment in her; also, her brothers’ certain outrage and Rachel’s dismay. She’d been forced to make choices four years ago that impacted all of them and would pay the price for her decisions without flinching. But Rowdy was innocent. He didn’t deserve to be involved in an emotional fire-storm.

      A swift rush of motherly protectiveness swamped her.

      He’s my little boy, only mine. Jessie realized her hands were curled into fists, her entire body tensed as if ready for battle. She forced her fingers to straighten and took several deep breaths in an effort to relax.

      Despite her fierce emotions, she knew her instinctive response was impractical. She was a lawyer, a member of the Montana Bar Association, and she was fully aware Zach had a right to visitation with Rowdy, if that’s what he wanted. Excluding Zach from their son’s life wasn’t legally possible.

      That didn’t mean she had to like it.

      She thrust her fingers through her hair, tugging the thick, heavy mass away from her temples where the dull headache still throbbed.

      Worrying at this point was fruitless, she told herself. More likely than not, Zach would be gone before long, flying back to whatever part of the world was currently at war and needed his services as a munitions consultant.

      She switched off the television and turned off the lights as she left the living room to walk down the hallway to her bedroom. A lamp glowed softly on the bedside table, casting shadows into the corners of the comfortable room. Jessie loved her little house and had spent hours sanding woodwork, painting walls and making it uniquely hers. The rest of the house reflected the reality that a three-year-old boy lived here but this room was her sanctuary. Here, she’d indulged herself with pale green silk curtains that matched the spread and pillow shams on the walnut four-poster bed. The bed had been her great-grandmother’s and, like the matching nightstands, bureau and oval mirror, its polished surface gleamed with years of loving care.

      The quiet surroundings had always had the power to soothe and relax her but tonight the room didn’t calm her worries about Rowdy and Zach. Even after she’d showered, dressed in a cotton tank top and loose pajama bottoms, climbed into bed and switched off the lamp, her mind continued to whirl with all the possible ramifications of Zach’s return to Wolf Creek.

      When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of Zach and the first time he’d come to her rescue. It was during the summer she was ten and he was already a tall, lanky teenager of fifteen….

      The first summer after her grandfather died seemed longer and hotter than usual. Jessie and her best friend, Sarah, tried to keep cool by swimming in the stock pond and spending Saturday afternoons in the air-conditioned theater.

      Following a movie one Saturday, Jessie and Sarah stopped at Muller’s Candy Shoppe before meeting Sarah’s mother at the library. They were contemplating a purchase when the string of bells hanging on the door jingled loudly and two teenage boys entered the nearly empty store.

      “Well, well, if it isn’t a McCloud. Heard from your convict brother lately?”

      Jessie stiffened at the jeering tone in Lonnie Kerrigan’s voice. Determined to ignore him, she resolutely stared at the glass case and the rainbow display of saltwater toffee inside. She wished Mr. Muller hadn’t stepped into the back room. The bell she could use to call him back was located at the far end of the counter by the cash register, too far away for her to reach.

      “What’s the matter, kid? Cat got your tongue?”

      He brushed past her, bumping her in the process.

      “Don’t pay any attention to him, Jessie,” Sarah urged.

      Jessie glanced sideways and saw that her friend’s eyes were fearful as she watched the blocky teenager on Jessie’s other side.

      “Yeah, kid. Don’t pay any attention to me.” Lonnie leaned against the candy display, grinning with malicious enjoyment at Sarah’s concern.

      “I won’t,” Jessie said, filled with hate and loathing for the bully. “You’re not worth it.”

      “Is that right?” She heard the sneer in his voice. “All you McClouds are the same. You’re a little young, but I’m sure it won’t be long before your brother Luke joins Chase in jail.” He waved expansively at the interior of the candy shop. “I’m surprised you’re allowed in here without supervision. Wonder if Mr. Muller knows he’s got a future criminal in his store?”

      Goaded beyond endurance, Jessie turned to face him, furious. “You’re a pig, Lonnie Kerrigan. You should be in jail, not Chase. You’re the criminal—you and your whole family!”

      She glared up at him, daring him to do anything about her harsh words. At ten, she was several feet shorter than the seventeen-year-old and he outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds. She didn’t care. Three months earlier, she’d watched as Chase was handcuffed and driven away from their grandfather’s funeral in a police car. She blamed Lonnie for her brother’s absence and she hated him with a depth and passion she’d never before felt in her short life.

      A blond teenage girl standing near the door giggled at Jessie’s words and Lonnie flushed, his eyes narrowing. He stepped closer, bending toward Jessie.

      “You little bitch.”

      Her mother would have washed his mouth out with soap for using that word. Jessie stuck out her chin and refused to back down.

      He grabbed her arm and twisted. The pain was excruciating but Jessie wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Instead, she glared harder, blinking back tears.

      “Let her go.”

      Lonnie’s gaze left hers and he looked over her head at someone behind her. His mouth tightened before he sneered again. “Stay out of it, Zach. This is none of your business.”

      “I’m making it my business. She’s just a kid. Let her go.”

      “You taking her place?”

      “If I have to.”

      Lonnie laughed and his grip loosened. He pushed Jessie and she stumbled sideways against the glass display case.

      “Hey, СКАЧАТЬ