Another Woman's Son (Harlequin Romance) (3 page)

Why hadn’t Will divorced her? She’d have given up rights to the business—any stake in his blessed bank account—to avoid a sentence in the hell he’d left behind.

Isabel jerked the bedding aside and turned on the lamp. Her sneakers lay on their sides by the closet. She stepped into them without bothering to tie the laces. Then she pulled a sweatshirt over her pajamas and opened the door.

Silence blanketed the dark hall. Ben and Tony needed sleep. After waiting a few seconds to make sure she hadn’t disturbed them, she hurried down the curving stairs, snatched her coat out of the closet and then reached for the front door, her only thought, escape.

She glanced down at her clothing. The knife her husband and sister had slipped into her back was no one else’s business. Wandering the neighborhood in her jammies would expose her and Ben, maybe even her parents, to ridicule and questions.

She turned, instead, toward the kitchen. When she opened the back door, the cold sucked the breath out of her lungs, but it felt better than smothering in her sister’s home. If she didn’t get fresh air, she’d need CPR.

Isabel stepped onto the deck and sank in snow that crept around the edges of her shoes. It felt good. She was alive if the cold could hurt.

But it really hurt. Damn. Suddenly she was also swearing at Will and Faith. And then at Ben for convincing her to stay.

Snowflakes wet her cheeks. She ran down the deck stairs and trekked through drifts to the gazebo where she and her sister had shared coffee, tea, secrets and each important milestone in Tony’s life.

Last winter Faith had danced with her son in his first snow. He’d laughed as bits of ice bounced off his soft skin, and Faith had kissed each wet spot. Isabel gritted her teeth. Tony had lost a loving mother.

Faith’s happiness that day had pricked at all Isabel’s doubts. She’d trusted her sister enough to confide her worst fear—that Will might have found another woman.

Isabel hunched into her coat on the swing Will and Ben had hung from the ceiling. Her breath painted the air in front of her face. She exhaled again and watched the mist widen and then dissipate.

Faith had said she was being foolish. Her less-than-comforting response had hurt, but Faith had
been right. No woman could have been more foolish or gullible.

“You’ll freeze.”

She jumped. “I didn’t hear you, Ben.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’d take a lot more than a guy in the dark to scare me tonight.” She pulled one knee to her chest. “I’m spoiling for a fight.”

“Yeah.” He sat beside her, jostling the swing. “I’d like to punch someone, too.” He’d positioned spotlights around the yard, and their dim light colored his face pale blue.

“I’m sorry you had to find out with a note,” she said. “I’m not sure I’d ever have found the courage to tell you, but I’m sorry you had to read about it.”

“I knew something was wrong, but I never guessed anything about Will.” He shrugged and the whole swing rocked. “I was lucky. Faith left the note in her makeup drawer. Amelia and George might have found it. They arrived the night of the accident.” He pushed his hands into his coat pockets. “Fortunately, I answered the phone when the mortician called about bringing her stuff.”

“Good God.”

“It was pretty awful.” His silence echoed with pain. “Why did you wait so long to come?”

She stared into the dark, not wanting to answer, but how could he think worse of her? “I considered not coming at all.”

“Really?”

She had shocked him.

“But Mom and Dad would have guessed something had come between Faith and me.”

“And you wouldn’t hurt them.” He stopped the swing with his feet.

“You needn’t sound suspicious.”

“I’ll be glad when your mother and father come over tomorrow and you don’t tell them immediately.”

“You hope that’s the way it goes?” His doubts almost made her laugh. “You have to be kidding. If I wasn’t able to tell you—when you were living the lie that changed me into a cynic—how could I tell my mom? She might feel better, but Tony would lose the last stable figure he’s known.”

“His father.”

“His father, Ben. I agree with you.”

The silence told her he doubted her. Just about the time she was getting angry, he nudged her elbow with his. “What are you going to do about the house?”

She pushed the swing back. “I don’t think Will filed for divorce, and I was too busy finding a job. If the place still belongs to me, I’ll sell it.” She glanced his way. “Meanwhile, you have to decide if you want Will’s half of our assets for Tony.”

“Not a chance. I don’t want anything from that bastard.”

Cold crept through her coat and her pajamas.
“What if Tony needs the money when he’s older? We’re not talking a simple piggy bank. This is a lot of capital.”

“Give it to Leah. If the truth comes out, she can decide whether she should help her grandson.”

“I’m serious about not trusting Leah. I could turn over everything Will and I owned together and she’d still look for any crumbs I might have forgotten. She married into a mainline Philadelphia family, and she’ll protect her name with her last breath. The more money to bolster her position, the better. You can’t trust her finer qualities, Ben. You definitely shouldn’t make Tony beholden to her.”

“I won’t touch a penny Will ever made—especially not for my son. I provide for Tony.”

Isabel opened her mouth to suggest he wait until he wasn’t so angry, but it was pointless. She didn’t need his permission to ask her lawyer about creating a trust fund for Tony. “After I get out from under all this, I’m heading back to Middleburg. I love the horses and the trees and the farms. I’m not important enough to matter. No one looks at me with pity. No one expects me to be Mrs. Will Barker.”

“We’ll talk about your plans after you sell the house.”

His domineering note struck a nerve. Will had always tried to steer their lives toward the image he wanted.

“You’re upset.” She tried to start out gently. “And
I’ve made it worse by talking about Will, but trying to push me around won’t change anything for you.”

The swing went forward and back. The metal chains sang a high-pitched, mournful tune until Ben stopped their motion.

“Don’t talk about leaving now.” He pushed the swing again, hard. “Please.”

That “please” obviously cost him. She softened. “I won’t.” But was she falling into old habits? Trying to please a man whose gruff tone threatened to withhold affection? She gripped her armrest. “As long as you realize I’m no longer Will’s amenable little wife. I was afraid he’d leave me, I guess, but I’d rather be left than play those kinds of games.”

He turned to her. A stranger behind Ben’s face who gave nothing away. Where was her old friend, loving, lovable, demonstrative Ben? “Thank you,” he said.

She was right to doubt him. He wanted her here for some reason. She didn’t understand, and she assumed it was going to hurt someday, but he might be correct about Tony needing familiar faces.

Ice crept between her collar and her neck. She shivered. From the snow? Or from doubts about Ben?

She turned toward the house, drawn to the faint glow of a night-light Faith had always left on in Tony’s room.

Face it. In Ben’s shoes she’d lie to keep Tony, and she’d keep on until someone caught her.

“I’d better go in,” he said. “I don’t like leaving him alone.” Standing, he held out his hand. “You should come, too. If you fall asleep out here, we’ll find you in an ice block in the morning.”

She tried to laugh. “Ben, what if we came clean? We could work out visitation for everyone.”

“Are you out of your mind? Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“I’m willing to lie because it’s best for Tony, but all the lies got us into this mess.” Gut-sucking tragedy, she meant. “Wouldn’t you have divorced Faith and been civil if she and Will had told us the truth?”

“After Tony came?” He started up the deck stairs. “I’d have killed her and buried her in the cellar, because I’d never have seen Tony again. And neither she nor Will would have believed they were denying me anything.”

“Stop.” If she hadn’t known him better than she knew even her own parents, she might have believed in his threats. She grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “I know you. Don’t talk like that. You are not that kind of man.”

“I want to be.” Unshed tears weighted his voice. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, refusing to believe in the bad man he was trying to become.

He held her off for a moment, and then his arms
came around her, almost too tight. Neither of them spoke, and she listened to his rough breathing. She’d been as angry as he was. It felt like sporting a cement foundation on your chest.

“Nothing hurts as much now that we’re together,” she said.

“I’m not so sure.”

“Because I didn’t tell you? If I could have asked you if you wanted to know, maybe I would have gone straight to you, instead of to Middleburg. I doubt it though. Will seemed surprised I was so hurt. Faith tried to call me a couple of times, but I never gave her a chance to speak. I kept hoping they’d realize how wrong they were, and they’d break off their affair. You’d never have to know.”

He looked down at her with his stranger’s face. “Do you believe that?”

She tried. If she could make herself believe, maybe she could convince him. But she was done with being an idiot, and he’d never let anyone past his suspicions.

“No.” She stepped away from him. “And I’m cold.”

“We don’t have to pretend with each other,” he said.

“They pretended to love us for years. That’s why I hate the lies. I was blind to Will, and I don’t want to be the same as he was.”

“He must have loved you once.”

“Because Faith loved you?”

He took her hand, but she’d bet it was an unconscious response. “Maybe she only used me to get close to Will. You were already engaged by the time she and I met.”

“Hold on.” Alarm bells rang in her head. “We can’t let them make us think we’re not worth loving, and I won’t turn into one of those women who refuses to trust because one man cheated on me.” Another lie. She hadn’t fully trusted Will since he’d first strayed. She tugged her hand out of Ben’s, more interested in standing on her own two feet.

Ben let her go. “I’m more worried about being so angry I make Tony forget how to be happy.”

“You’re a good dad. You won’t do that.”

“Thanks, Isabel.” He took the first two stairs in one stride. “I needed that.”

He seemed to feel better, but she noticed the beginnings of a headache and a thick coating of ice in her shoes. Too many moral questions to ponder around here.

“What are you going to do in the morning?” he asked.

“Start on the house.” A labor that would have unmanned Hercules. “I have to sort our things.”

“Let me help. Make a list of what you want to keep and we’ll go through the rest.”

“You don’t owe me, Ben.” She caught up on numb feet. “The ghosts in that house are mine to face.”

Ghosts of Will doing his finest imitation of a lov
ing husband. Faith—with whom she’d played dolls and dress-up, made Christmas and birthday presents for their parents, shared secrets and fights— Faith, taking her place.

Isabel fought an urge to wrap her arms around Ben and bury her face in his shoulder. She needed courage to face the home that had no doubt become her sister’s over the past three months.

I
SABEL WOKE
, groggy from lack of sleep. Tony’s crying pulled her to her feet, but then she heard Ben’s comforting voice, and Tony laughed. Isabel sank back, dragging a pillow over her face.

It all came back. Her sister and her husband had found the love Will had apparently never been able to feel for her. They’d had Tony together. They’d run away, only Tony surviving in the wreckage they’d left behind.

Tony. Her nephew. Her husband’s child. Leaving would be so easy.

Except she loved Tony with a mother’s heart. None of this was his fault, and Will had already ruined enough of her life. She might never learn to forgive Faith, but Will’s falseness wasn’t about to destroy her love for Tony.

She tossed the pillow toward the headboard and climbed out of bed. First, a shower that felt more like baptism into a crazy, borrowed existence. Then she put on jeans and a snug green sweater and began to unpack the bag she’d left in the middle of the floor
last night. Thank goodness, she’d brought enough clothing to take her through selling her house.

She was hanging her things in the closet when Ben knocked on the door. “You awake?” he asked softly from outside.

“Come on in.” She looked for Tony, but Ben came alone.

He held out her cell phone. “Leah.”

Great. One free breath would have been nice before she had to face her former mother-in-law. “How’d you explain my staying here? She doesn’t know—”

He put his hand over the phone. “She knows you were separated. Why would you stay in that house? And why are you trying to protect Will?”

“He was still her son.”

Ben looked disgusted as he passed the cell.

Isabel replaced his hand with hers, blocking their voices again. “What did you say?”

“Hello, and that I’d find you.”

Maybe she was overreacting, but she wasn’t used to this angrier version of Ben. “I’m sorry. She— I know she can be awful, but she loved Will.”

“As long as he stayed in line.”

“She loved him as much as she can love anyone.” She brought the phone toward her ear.

“Wait.” Ben held out his hand. “Tony’s downstairs. He must have seen you last night because he keeps calling for you.”

“I’ll come down.” Armed with her last ounce of nerve.

“Thanks. He’ll feel better after he knows you’re here.”

She hoped Ben was right. They might be setting Tony up for another loss, because she had to find her own life soon. She couldn’t linger forever on the edges of Ben and Tony’s.

She spoke into the phone. “Leah?”

“I thought you’d hung up. What took so long?”

“Ben and I were talking about Tony. How do you feel now?”

“Exhausted. I know people are going to talk because I didn’t show up, but I can’t manage to get out of bed yet. Are you going to visit me, Isabel? I’d like to hear about my son’s service.”

Leah must be delirious. “You want me?” Despite her claims to be Isabel’s second mother, Leah had treated her as if Will had married the hired help.

“We’re all that’s left of my son now. We must help each other through our grief.”

“Huh?” The many dramas of Leah Barker annoyed the hell out of Isabel, but she bit her tongue. “Calm down, Leah. I’ll come up to Philadelphia in a few weeks, but I have to close the house first.”

“The house? Doesn’t it belong to Will?”

“You haven’t changed that much.”

“Pardon me?”

Isabel almost laughed at Leah’s stronger, af
fronted tone. “You’re protective,” she said, “of Will. I’ll let you know what the attorney says about the house.”

“And everything else.”

Just like that, her attitude wasn’t so funny. Isabel still owned the things she’d brought into her marriage. “You have nothing to worry about, Leah.”

“Why are you staying at your sister’s house?”

Just the question to turn the knife in Isabel’s wounds. “Ben asked me and I want to spend time with Tony.”

“Don’t you care what people will think? After all, you and Will were separated.”

“What are you implying, Leah?”

“I’m worried about my son’s reputation. You should be, too. I know you had problems, but he loved you.”

That bastard. He’d probably fed his mother the same story he’d given Ben—that Isabel had cheated on him. He’d never realized he didn’t have to hide his flaws from Leah. She refused to see them anyway. Eventually, he’d have persuaded her Faith was a victim he’d saved from a bad marriage, too.

“I loved Will, Leah. Let’s leave it at that. I need to get off the phone and go start on the house.”

“If I come stay with you, will you move back in?”

The threat didn’t scare Isabel. Leah hadn’t even come to her beloved child’s funeral. She’d hire an at
torney before she’d travel all the way to Virginia to grab her share of Will’s belongings.

“Sure,” Isabel said. “Let me know when you’re coming.”

Her mother-in-law was silent for several seconds, no doubt planning her next offensive. Isabel smiled. “You’ll fill me in on what you’re doing?” Leah took another tack. “You should call me each evening.”

“I’ll have Ray Paine give you an update.”

“Ray? He’s Will’s attorney.”

“And mine, and I wish you wouldn’t crowd me, Leah.”

Again, she fell silent. “Let’s not argue, honey. We won’t pretend I didn’t think you were wrong for Will. Maybe I was right, maybe not, but you’re all I have left of my boy, and I don’t want to lose you. Maybe I’m trying to make sure you don’t cut all ties with me.”

“By accusing me of burglary?” Any non-succubus would know that was a mistake.

“I don’t want you to cut me out. I have the right to make demands.” The bubble of her arrogance deflated. “I hate situations I can’t control.”

A family trait. “I don’t like people who try to manage me. And being called a criminal puts me off, Leah. Why don’t you say what you mean instead of playing games?”

“Would you believe me if I told you how much I care about you?”

Care
seemed like a strong word for what Leah appeared to feel, but she was trying to preserve their tenuous connection. Will must not have told Leah the “Isabel cheated” story after all. Leah would never forgive disloyalty to her son. “I might suspect you had an ulterior motive.”

“I do care. I’m protective of my son’s things, but you were part of his life. I wish I’d been nicer to you while you and Will were married.”

Leah had stopped making sense, but Isabel couldn’t turn her back on Will’s mother. Grief could make a woman talk crazy. “Don’t worry, okay? I won’t take anything that belongs to Will, and I won’t disappear without telling you.”

“You’re the only person I can talk to about…”

“Shh, Leah. Don’t upset yourself. Is anyone staying with you?”

“Janet’s here.” A friend who’d shown her the ropes of being a popular Philadelphia wife. Janet had never liked Isabel, either.

“Go do something with her awhile. Something that takes some energy.”

“You mean like shopping?”

Isabel laughed. She’d had silver polishing or cooking breakfast in mind. “Whatever keeps you busy. You don’t have to deal with everything today. Work your way into getting used to—” She couldn’t say Will’s death. “To what’s happened.”

“I think you’re right.”

It never took much work to persuade Leah to pamper herself. “I’ll call you later.”

“Thanks. And I’m grateful for the advice, too. We’ll talk soon. I still wouldn’t mind knowing what you plan to do about my son’s things.”

Leah couldn’t stop, and Isabel wasn’t a saint. For now a call was the best she could offer.

“P
OCK
, D
ADDY
, P
OCK
!”

Which translated to
Take me to the park across the street, Dad.
Ben wiped cereal off the wall and picked more out of Tony’s hair. “Just a minute, Son. Let me chisel the kitchen clean first.”

At least he’d stopped begging for his “Iz-bell.”

Just as Ben wiped the last splat of cereal off the counter behind Tony’s high chair, Isabel came into the kitchen, like a woman taking possession of enemy territory.

“Morning,” she said, her cheerfulness obviously an act.

How had Leah put her in this mood?

“My Iz-bell.” Tony kicked so hard the whole chair rocked. Ben and Isabel reached for him at the same time.

“Let me.” Her eyes, soft with love, distracted Ben. His house felt starved for love.

Isabel eased his cooing son out of the high chair. Tony wrapped his legs around her as if he were either wrestling or claiming her for all eternity.

“I love you, baby.” She said it with wonder. That was the worst thing about cheating spouses. They made you forget what kind of person you were.

“You really thought you could stop loving him?” Ben’s throat tightened as Tony planted a wet, cereal-specked kiss on Isabel’s cheek. She looked at Ben, eyes wet.

The heavy air inside his house seemed to lighten.

“I’d better take him.” Ben reached for his boy. “You’re still going out?”

Nodding, Isabel stared at Tony as if she couldn’t get enough of him. Giggling, Tony burrowed his face into her hair. “He’s fine, despite what he must have seen in that accident.” She hugged him again until he wriggled. “You can have him in a sec, and then I have to call Ray before I go.”

“Why?” He didn’t want to hear anything more about this legacy idea. He wet a paper towel with warm water and tried to clean some of the detritus his son had rubbed on her cheek and neck.

The way she set her stubborn jaw equipped him with plenty of elbow grease. “I want to discuss setting up a trust fund for Tony, and while I was talking to Leah I realized I’d better find out for sure about my legal rights.”

“Don’t think you can run over me about Will’s money. No one provides for my son except me.”

“Be sensible. You can’t see the future. Who’d have believed three months ago that all this was waiting
for us? When Tony grows up, he might need—and want— Will’s legacy.”

“Will always said you hated business matters.” He closed in again, trying to finish the cleanup.

“What Will actually meant was that he hated for me to ask questions about the business. He felt I was challenging his role as the great provider.” She dropped the sarcasm. “Another reason to feel idiotic for trusting him. I may be penniless.” She freed one hand and pushed his paper towel away. “What are you doing to my face?”

“Cereal.” He scrubbed off the last grains and then showed them to her. “Tony shared with you.”

“Is it in my hair, too?” But when she turned to let him search the brown strands, Tony grunted and tightened his legs.

“My Iz-bell, Daddy.”

“Aunt Iz-bell,” Ben said for maybe the billionth time.

“Uh-huh.” Tony nodded with vigor. “
My
Iz-bell.”

They had bigger problems. Someday Tony would grasp what
aunt
meant. “Okay, buddy. Let’s finish cleaning you both before your Iz-bell has to hose her self down.”

“No.” Tony resented even a paper towel coming between them. Ben had to laugh. Otherwise, his boy might tempt him to cry. “I told you he’s lost too many people lately.”

“Ben.” Without warning, Isabel put one arm around him.

She seemed too close. He couldn’t get enough air. What the hell had his voice betrayed? As his lungs screamed, he let her hold him, and he was almost as grateful as his son.

This was good, he told himself, even as he hated the devious path his thoughts took. She wouldn’t hug him if she didn’t feel attached. The more attached he made her feel, the safer he and Tony would be.

But he must have hugged back too tightly. Tony began to squeal, and Isabel laughed, moving away.

“I guess we needed that.” She picked up Tony’s bowl from the table and set it in the sink. “It’s been too long for all of us.”

Fighting remorse that was pointless, since he’d have used any innocent, unsuspecting soul to keep his son, he followed her to the sink. “More cereal.” He smoothed it out of her hair and ran the paper towel over his son’s face, to Tony’s squirming disgust. “And we’re all ready to go.”

“Go where?” Isabel asked. “I mean where are you and Tony going?”

“The park, if you don’t want our company.” He tossed the paper towel into the garbage can as the doorbell rang.

Isabel turned with a wary look that reminded him she really had been through the same experience that
had changed his life. “I was surprised no one brought the traditional casseroles.”

“I asked them not to.” How else did a guy act when his wife died, leaving a brief, informative note about her affair? “I don’t know if she told anyone else the truth. Every time one of her friends shows up I’m afraid something will happen that makes me lose Tony.” He circled Isabel and his son, heading for the front door. “Those damn suitcases, for instance.”

“I know. I plan to repeat Mom’s theory about Will giving Faith and Tony a ride to her and Dad’s house.” Annoyance tightened Isabel’s voice.

“I’m glad you told me. It’s a better excuse than anything I came up with.”

“Have you considered a DNA test?” Isabel asked.

He turned back, bleak. “I won’t leave a trail of evidence that proves I have questions about Tony’s paternity, and Faith’s affair explains why my marriage had turned into an endurance test.” He looked miserable. “I can’t make myself prove my son belonged to another man.”

“He never will.”

Isabel’s desperate comfort provided little relief. He passed through the dining room where the table was still set for Faith’s next dinner party, and entered the hall. He reached for the door, wishing he could plaster a do-not-disturb sign to the other side.

George and Amelia were on the threshold, George taking a quick scan of the neighbors, Amelia clinging to his arm as if she might sink without his assistance. “You’re exhausted.” She was one to talk, with her grayish hair flying from a bun he’d guess she hadn’t repaired since yesterday. “I knew we shouldn’t leave you alone. You have too many memories in this house.” She peered over his shoulder. “Where are Tony and Isabel? Not awake yet?”

“It’s almost ten,” George said. “No kid sleeps this late. Have you eaten, Ben? We thought we’d take the family out for breakfast.”