Tragic Renewal (12 page)

“Scott!” Isabella shouted from the kitchen, her voice was strained with obvious pain.

Scott groaned with frustration, annoyed at Isabella’s whiny shout that disturbed his beer guzzling. He slammed the bottle on the coffee table and rose from the couch.

“What?” he yelled back, though he already suspected he knew the problem.

“You idiot, get in here.”

His blood began a slow simmer touching the edges of boiling. “Listen woman, I don’t have time for your games,” his voice growled as he entered the kitchen.

Isabella faced the counter in front of the sink, her legs spread wide as she leaned heavily on the red Formica surface. A brown tinged liquid leaked down her legs and formed a small puddle on the linoleum floor.

“What the hell is that?” His entire demeanor changed when he spotted the puddle. The yell that had formed reduced to a whimper at the sight.

Her back and shoulders clenched as she shouted again. “Oww, oww. Oh, my god you missing sandwich no picnic having asshole get over here and help me.” Her jaws gritted together so hard he thought she would break teeth.

“What… what the hell is going on?”

Isabella unclamped her jaw and drew deep breaths through her teeth, the inhaled air pushed out in a whistle each time she exhaled. “Scott, focus. My water broke. Go get my bag and get me to the hospital before I have this baby on the floor.”

His hand smacked into his forehead. “I’m an idiot. Ok, I’ll be right back.”

He ran through the house like a man possessed, grabbing her bag and a towel from the hall closet before running back to the kitchen.

She leaned most of her weight on his shoulder as he helped her to the garage trying to beat the next contraction. His eyes almost bugged out of his head when her grip tightened to vise-like proportions as she waited out another contraction and took it out on his shoulder. A single tear fell from his eye as her grip loosened and they continued their journey.

He propped her against the garage wall as he arranged the towel across the front passenger seat and tossed the baby bag into the back. She gingerly settled herself into the seat as he guided her elbow. When she was settled he reached down and leaned the seat all the way back, the headrest touched the rear seat.

He watched her through the windshield as another contraction ripped through her body and she screamed like she’d been ripped limb from limb. Once she calmed down he raced to the driver’s door, flung it open, and sped from the garage.

Though the hospital was close she had three more contractions on the way. Scott thought his brain would explode if she screamed one more time. His arm was red and dripping small crescents of blood from indentations where her short fingernails had pierced his skin.

He raced through the hospital parking lot and came to a screeching halt in the ambulance bay. Two nurses sprinted through the sliding doors pushing a wheelchair. From there everything happened at warp speed. The first nurse shouted to the other that the baby was crowning. He stood in shocked perplexion as he attempted to decipher why a baby would be wearing a crown. They whisked Isabella away before he had a chance to answer any questions.

His head hung with dejection as he parked the car and made his way inside the hospital. He was a man used to being in charge and giving orders, but for the first time in his adult life power had been ripped from him and given to that screaming woman he called wife. Anger built behind his eyes, rage leaked through his veins, and his false control began to slip. Breath ripped from his lungs as his heart rate sped to its limits.

As the doors slid open a nurse behind a large desk with a glass partition shouted his name. “Mr. Roberts, what took you so long? You need to get to your wife’s room right now.”

With the speed of a cheetah his control snapped back into place. He plastered a smile of nervous excitement on his face. “Which way?”

She pointed to her left. “Room 101.”

As he hurried down the hall he heard the squall of a newborn and a familiar cry from Isabella. He shrugged with relief. His strong man control slipped at the sight of blood and surely seeing a kid pop out would cause it to disintegrate.

He touched his face, reassuring himself his charming smile was in place, he entered the room. Isabella lay on the bed a squalling newborn squirmed on her chest as she tried to guide its mouth to her swollen nipple.

“Congratulations Dad? You have a little boy.”

He looked at the nurse who had spoken, wondering why she said the first part like a question.

“Thanks.” He strode across the room to get a better look at the newborn.

The baby was now latched to Isabella’s breast and sucking. His small body was still gooey from his recent birth and his skin dark with birth fluids. Scott puzzled over the baby’s skin tone. His experience with newborns was limited as he had refused to look too closely at his dead sons.

When he looked at Isabella he detected fear running through her return gaze. He glanced back at the baby then returned to her eyes. The truth shouted at him as though the words had left her lips. They pounded through his head and knocked on his eardrums in reverse order.

Realization dawned bullet-train fast and quick-sand slow. His lips pursed together and his inner demon screamed to get out. Control began to slip from its tight embrace. He refused to speak or look at Isabella as he clamped down on the sensations raging through his body and mind. When he had a semblance of sanity on his side he spoke so only she could hear.

“He’s not my child.”

He read her eyes when no words slipped past her lips. With a false smile he pretended he didn’t understand.

“Oh, honey he’s so beautiful.” His eyes rolled at his syrupy tone meant to make the nurses swoon and not suspect the truth bouncing around the room. He would take care of this after they got home. For now he would be nothing more than a loving husband and proud father of a bastard baby that was not his own.

Thoughts of who the father might be raced through his mind as he settled into a seat next to Isabella’s bed. The nurses finished cleaning her up, checked the baby, and made sure all was well before leaving them to privacy.

As the door clicked closed his eyes snaked to hers, but his mouth held a smile. “Honey, you have some splainin’ to do, but not now save it for home where we won’t be disturbed.”

Her head shook and her body trembled at the implication of his words. “Oh, Scott, I’m so sorry.”

His finger covered her lips. “Shhh, you need your rest and you don’t want to disturb your little bastard.”

Her eyes widened, and they both glanced at the now sleeping baby. The baby was swaddled in a white receiving blanket like a burrito with a dark face and hair. A perfect cherub of a baby had neither the idea the turmoil his mom faced nor the evil that lurked within the man that would pretend to be his dad.

“What are you going to do?” Isabella’s voice trembled.

“Not now, my sweet not baby mama. How about you let me hold him?”

Her arms clung to the baby’s small body as he continued sleeping. She shook her head and released a waterfall of strained tears from her fluid blue eyes. A look of resignation crossed her face. “Please don’t hurt him.”

A serpent’s grin formed. “Oh, don’t worry sweetums I promise I won’t hurt him.” He forced ‘him’ from his lips with a clear emphasis of his intentions.

Her eyes grew impossibly wide as she sat up and cradled the baby before handing him to Scott.

Scott took the baby with unexpected care. The light but heavy warm weight of the newborn surprised him. He leaned down to sniff the powdery baby aroma jerked heartstrings hardened by life. The baby squirmed and smacked his lips.

Isabella touched Scott’s arm. “Bring him closer. Cradle him against your chest.”

Scott did as instructed with a rare show of obedience to someone he considered lesser than himself.

Isabella watched Scott hold the baby, Scott watched her from the corner of his eye. Thoughts of revenge pinged through his mind. When he looked back at the baby, calmness overcame his thoughts, soothing the beast that lurked beneath. He stroked the boy’s cheek before handing him back to his mother. A pain deep in his chest rose up and threatened to burst the bubble of evil trapped within.

Once the boy was back in Isabella’s arms Scott could not pull his eyes from the sleeping infant. “What are you going to name him?”

Isabella stared at him with curiosity. “I was thinking about Boyd Scott Roberts, how would you feel about that?”

“Uh… well under the circumstances don’t you think that’d be a bit odd?”

“Yes and no. I’d like us to raise him as though you’re his real father. I swear I didn’t…”

Scott silenced her with an upheld hand. “Don’t, I’m not hearing some bullshit explanation.” His blood heated at her attempt to make a lame excuse. A thought nibbled at the back of his mind about hypocrisy. Before it could take a bite he shook it off.

“Save this conversation for home, I’m not letting our business be hospital gossip.”

She nodded in agreement, then settled deeper in the bed. “Would you mind putting him in the baby cart over there? I need rest.”

Scott obliged. He leaned to stroke Boyd’s cheek before leaving the room to walk the halls. He had a load of rage that needed torching and exercise had always helped set his mind straight. His feet pounded miles of hallways before his mind came back to center. On the final lap he had a plan, but it didn’t include the nice little family Isabella wanted them to make. She would pay for daring to be unfaithful to him.

Harper’s eyes drifted closed with surprising ease. She expected to sit up the rest of the night worrying over what the letter contained, but instead fell into a deep slumber free of further dreams.

Upon waking she glanced at the silent envelope holding Cara’s thoughts. Harper, unwilling to travel down the memory road folded in paper and ink, rose from the bed and chose to start the day. Soon enough she would confront her dread, but she would save it for when she was alone and free to wail and cry.

She crept down the hall, her socked feet noiseless on the cool floor. When she entered the living room Ziggie’s head came up and his tail wiggled in greeting. He stepped from the couch with the grace of a dancer and the ability of a spy to keep from disturbing the still-sleeping boy.

Grayson rolled to his side and groaned when Ziggie’s warm weight disappeared from the couch.

The little boy groan struck a chord of joy in Harper’s heart while adding a stone to her childlessness. She shook off the pain and grabbed hold of the joy, determined to make the most of this day and every other going forward. Having Grayson as her next door neighbor was going to be sweet torture.

Her mind wandered back to the previous evening and how kissing Noah had made her feel. His lips were like pillows of wanton desire and his masculinity spoke to her core. Even when things were brand new with Scott, he’d never made her feel the way Noah had in a flash of seconds with a simple kiss. Being near Noah was like losing her mind and gaining her sanity all in one stroke. She was beyond old enough to know better than to fall so fast, that was Cara’s thing, but she couldn’t dig up a reason to care.

Her breath sped at the thought of Noah, her breasts ached, and her mind couldn’t shut off images of his tousled hair and deep blue eyes that kept popping into her mind unbidden. She must be going through a mid-life crisis to allow brazenness to overcome decorum. No amount of mental redirection could shut off the pictures floating around her head.

Lost in thought she didn’t realize Grayson had rolled from the couch and stood at her side waiting for a reply to a question he must have asked. When she looked down, he grinned, a grin that would drive girls crazy when he got older, but for now it simply melted her heart and made her want to pick him up and hug him tight. She kneeled down in front of him.

“What’s up buttercup?”

He grinned another sleepy, drive girls crazy later in life, lip twitch at her tease. “I have to um, uh pee.”

“Sure thang mister. Let’s get right on that. Troops, ten-hut.”

Grayson giggled at the reference to the game they played the previous evening. His hand shot to his head in a smart salute and his feet came together at attention. “Ma’am, yes ma’am.”

She rubbed his head and returned his salute, then turned her back to him. “Forward march.” She tried to muster a shout, but the words came out in a breathy chuckle instead. With an exaggerated stride she marched forward digging in her heels to make more noise as they paraded down the hall to the bathroom.

He ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. From the other side of the door Harper could hear the toilet lid slam up followed by the tinkling of an aim well done. He giggled as water sloshed in the bowl. She walked away with a sad smile. Her boys had never walked, said their first words, or learned to pee standing up. Such simple things, but she’d missed the opportunity of watching life stages that would never occur. The locket around her neck warmed to the touch when she reached to rub it.

She shook off the bad memories. Scooting the negative into a box to store in the back of her memory closet. Today would be a day to enjoy nature and spend time with a man and boy who were rapidly becoming a part of her life. She coached her mind to slow down to take each minute as it came.

She cranked the music in the kitchen as she set to preparing breakfast. The smell of frying bacon and browning biscuits traveled through the house and made her mouth water and her stomach grumble in response. When Grayson walked into the kitchen he approached her and held his hands up palms facing her. The evening before he’d explained to her that each time he went to the bathroom he had to wash his hands, and that meant she had to check for cleanliness by sniffing his palms.

She grinned and obliged before shooing him to sit at the table while she finished cooking. He sat at the table and picked up a coloring book and box of crayons, both purchases she’d made in anticipation of his visit. Her heart soared watching him enjoy things she’d picked for him. His tongue hung from the side of his mouth as he concentrated on coloring inside the lines.

Her pulse quickened when she heard the doorbell. Noah stood at her door his hip propped against the porch railing and a twinkle shone in his eyes. Before she had a chance to say a greeting he made three quick strides and pulled her into his arms. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I’ve been thinking about you all night.”

She pulled back incredulous of his words. “Really, all night?”

“Oh, honey when I say all night, I mean I didn’t sleep a wink. Look at these bags.” He pointed to the skin under his eyes.

She was so caught up in staring at his eyes and their frame of heavy dark lashes that if there were bags under his eyes she didn’t notice. His words pinged through her mind on a race to win her wounded heart. Reality knocked her musings of love everlasting to the ground and smothered them in dirt.

“Noah, we have to slow down. We’re survivors of crappy relationships…” she paused to consider her next words. When she couldn’t come up with something witty and astute she shrugged in defeat. “Oh, heck I don’t know what I’m saying, help me out here.”

A serious frown crossed his face. He took her hand, causing an instant shot of adrenaline to spike her blood pressure and warm her cheeks. “Harper, we can take this as slow as you need. I promise to never be like the man who tossed you away. I can’t promise to be perfect, but I can promise to always be gentle with your heart.”

He tilted her chin up so he could capture her eyes in his gaze. His head leaned down slow enough to give her time to escape. She put up a token protest before his lips brushed a feather light kiss over her lips and pulled back before she realized he was staring at her closed eyes. Her eyes opened to catch a mischievous grin flit across his lips.

Noah laughed out a strained snicker and adjusted his pants. “We better get to breakfast before I break my promise of taking it slow.”

Harper’s mind floated on a hazy cloud. Even when she was a school girl dealing with her first crush she’d never felt as alive as she did when standing near Noah. Her logical side told her to proceed with prudence while her horny female side told her to jump him right there on the porch and be damned with the consequences. Prudence won for the moment.

Harper led the way inside. Grayson still sat at the kitchen table coloring, seemingly unaware that he’d been left alone for several minutes. Ziggie scanned them from under the table, his eyes told the story of a dog who knew the truth.

After breakfast they saddled the horses and started down the trail leading to the federal land management forest. Well-maintained trails snaked three directions as they crossed from Cara’s land onto federal property. Noah in the lead indicated they would head left. Ziggie caught his arm movement and took off, not waiting for further direction.

Harper watched Grayson’s head bob back and forth in rhythm with Penny’s careful gait. She swayed to the same rhythm atop Roxie, who seemed to sense Harper was not a great rider. Roxie took extra precaution with each step and compensated her movement anytime Harper lost her seat. Harper patted her neck, grateful the little mare was so intuitive and clamped down her own skittishness to help her new mistress.

The forest stretched into a rambling series of sameness, with its clustering of naked trees interspersed with pine and other evergreen. As the sun warmed the earth later in the afternoon she could detect the aroma of warm pine needles as they cushioned the walkway and blanketed random shrubs.

The serenity of the forest and the quiet clop of hooves on soft ground spoke to her calm center. It helped her find a balance she’d been missing in her old life of following her husband from one assignment to the next and watching him use his rank and power to manipulate subordinates.

She watched the man and boy in front of her. Her heart softened at the sight. Throughout her adult life she’d never been complete, something always seemed to be missing, but she could never quite put her finger on what the missing thing was. It was like an incomplete puzzle with the final piece missing. She’d searched under the table, under the couch, and under the blankets but still it hid in some inconspicuous spot. With a contented sigh she settled deeper in the saddle as her body swayed back and forth with the gentle rocking rhythm of riding. For the first time since her divorce she was where she belonged.

Harper was going to live Cara’s dream of running a u-pick farm. She shoved her hand into the deep jacket pocket where she had stored Cara’s letter from the night before. When she returned home and had privacy she would face the demons and angels that resided between the folds of paper.

Up ahead Noah pulled his horse to the right to wait for her to catch up. When she pulled up beside them, both Noah and Grayson grinned at her. In the near distance she could hear the gurgle of running water and the louder pounding of a waterfall.

“This is the best part of the ride. Hop down and tie Roxie to that hitching post.” Noah tilted his chin toward a rail nailed between two trees.

Harper grabbed the pommel and swung her right leg over the saddle. She stood on tingling feet as her legs adjusted to supporting her weight. A dull ache originated deep within thighs of hidden unused muscles. Her butt was numb from two hours of riding. With a full body stretch and a deep groan she took her first steps toward the rail. Roxie snorted, shook her body, and followed.

Noah finished looping the reins and turned to help Grayson down from his high perch behind the saddle. “Wee daddy, make me fly.” Grayson yelled as Noah lifted him up.

Noah stepped back a few paces until he was situated in the middle of the trail. He turned a slow circle, picking up speed with each revolution. “Faster daddy faster.” Simple glee flashed through Grayson’s voice as he demanded more and more speed.

“Alright, mister enough. I’m getting dizzy.”

Harper laughed at the pout that sprang onto Grayson’s face at the conclusion of his fun. His lip stuck out and his eyes pleaded for more. Before he had a chance to ask Noah deposited him on the ground. “How about you show Miss Harper what we’re stopping for?”

Disappointment forgotten, he ran to Harper and grabbed her hand in his small sticky fist. He tugged until she followed, half-tripping over a root.

As they moved forward the roar of water grew louder. A fine mist coated her face as they reached the edge of a waterfall backed by a fast running river. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stared out at a white wall of water. Rainbows flashed in the mist created by the driving water.

Her grip on Grayson’s hand tightened afraid he would get too close to the edge and get sucked into a watery grave. She placed a hand over her racing heart and found a shot of relief when she spotted the railing running along the rim, preventing sightseers from getting too close.

Noah walked up beside her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

“More than words could explain.” She replied, in a stupor of wonder as she stared at the sight.

He pointed to the railing. “I was happy when the county put the rail up. I used to be terrified Grayson would get too close and slip over the edge. Years ago some out of town visitor got too close to the edge and went over. I don’t remember the exact story, but the person survived and was rescued in one of the lower pools.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine surviving a fall like that.”

“I think that person must’ve had an angel on his shoulder and the luck of a lottery winner.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Not real often, when I need some perspective on life. When I need to be reminded of how small we are when confronted with nature. There’s also a hiking trail that leads in from the main road so we don’t have to ride to get to it.”

Harper nodded. She stood lost in enthrallment as she stared at the magnificent power of nature.