Believe Me (Hearts for Ransom Book 3) (10 page)

Claire leaned over to pick Zoey’s plastic keys up from the floor and put them back on the high chair tray, thankful for a valid reason to avoid looking at Judy’s brother. The man sitting across the table from her could pass for Mason Wright’s twin brother. It was strange because there was absolutely no resemblance between the rest of the Dyers and Mason. But with that dark hair and those brown eyes…

And she knew she wasn’t having some sort of breakdown, because when Claire arrived at the Dyers’ for dinner, the first words out of Spencer’s mouth had been, “This is Bryan, Mom. He looks just like Mason, doesn’t he?”

She found it rather disconcerting to sit at the table with a man who so closely resembled the father of her child. And it didn’t help when every time she glanced at him, his eyes were glued to her.

“So, Claire, you work with Judy?” he asked. At least he didn’t sound like Mason. His voice wasn’t as deep.

“Yes.” She tried to remember her manners. “And you just returned from Iraq?”

“Yeah.” His mouth curved into Mason Wright’s smile. No—she had to stop thinking like that. “I finally decided I’m not cut out to be in the military for the rest of my life. I’m ready for some regular civilian living.”

“Tell her what you’re planning on doing,” Louise urged her son.

“I got plenty of practice working on vehicles while I was in the service,” he said. “I’ve already applied at several garages here in town. A couple of them acted interested in hiring me.” He reached over and patted his mother’s arm. “I won’t be moochin’ off Mom any longer than I have to.”

“You’re not mooching.” Louise’s frown was diminished greatly by her twinkling eyes. “I told you it wasn’t necessary to pay anything, but you’ve already bought a truckload of groceries.”

“I’m either paying my share, Mom,” he said solemnly, “or I’ll pay you rent.”

His mother looked at his face and must have seen an expression she was familiar with. “Okay.”

“Mom, remember when Bryan ate that whole bag of cookies?” Judy was obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Louise seemed immediately caught up in the memory as she turned to Claire. “Judy thought she was giving her secret pal at church a nice Christmas present by putting a bag of cookies in a cookie jar before she wrapped it.” She sent an amused glance toward her son. “When her friend opened it, the cookie jar was empty. It wasn’t until I found the empty bag in the trash can and Bryan complained of a stomach ache, that I figured out he’d helped himself to a snack before she wrapped it.”

Claire smiled as the Dyers laughed. Louise brought up another memory, and the three of them were soon caught up in reminiscing. Spencer seemed interested, commenting once in a while, and she just listened. It wasn’t long until empty plates were in front of everybody.

“Let me help with dishes,” Claire offered once they were all finished eating.

Judy scoffed. “You’ve been on your feet all day.”

“Please let me,” Claire requested. “It’s the least I can do to repay you for a wonderful Thanksgiving day.”

“Okay.” Judy’s sigh told Claire she still wasn’t very happy with the idea.

A little while later, Claire found herself washing dishes while Judy dried and put them away.

“So, how did Butlers’ first big catering gig go?” Judy asked.

Now that it was over, Claire was glad she signed up for the banquet. “It was hard work, but with what I made and tip the hospital administrator gave each of us, I have just enough money to buy Spence a laptop for Christmas.”

“That’s great,” Judy enthused, and then she sobered. “Claire, you can tell me it’s none of my business, but why isn’t Spencer’s dad helping you? I mean he should at least be paying child support, shouldn’t he?”

Claire shook her head. “He’s not in our lives…in Spencer’s life…in any manner.”

“Why not?”

Claire had never shared her story with another human being before. It would be nice to have a friend to open up to—maybe understand what she’d gone through. She and Judy had been friends for almost fourteen years, so if she were going to trust anybody, it would be her.

She looked around to make sure everybody else was still occupied. Louise, barely visible through the kitchen door, was sitting in the living room playing with Zoey. Spence and Bryan had planted themselves in front of the television to watch a football game. She and Judy were alone.

“Spence can never know this.” She kept her voice low.

Judy solemnly shook her head. “I won’t tell a soul.”

Claire took a deep breath and dredged up a past she sometimes couldn’t believe was hers.

“I was fifteen, the same age Spence is now. My parents were very strict. It was my way or the highway, and they really meant it.”

“Oh, no,” Judy softly whispered.

Claire nodded. “I wanted so much to be like others my age, running around, dating…And this one boy—every girl in school liked him, and I thought the sun rose and set on him. If he were my boyfriend, I would be accepted. But he was a senior, and way too important to ever notice me.”

This was more painful to talk about than Claire anticipated. She dug deep in her heart for courage and forged ahead. “Then one night, I finally had permission from my parents to attend a school party. It was a fall festival, after dark, with hayrides, a bonfire, and…a straw maze.” She smiled tremulously. “That night, I felt so good. I was just like the other kids. And when that special boy actually started talking to me, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. He was good. He knew all the right things to say.”

Judy stopped drying dishes and, with her face full of compassion, looked at Claire.

“I thought we were going into the maze so he could kiss me. It would have been my first one. But once we were in the maze and found a dark corner, he did way more than kiss me. And I was stupid. I thought if I let him do that, he’d have to love me.”

“I’m sorry,” Judy whispered.

Claire continued. “It …hurt. After he was done, he got up and left me there. He just walked away without a word. I was so humiliated. I got lost trying to find my way out, and when I finally made it, my dad was there to pick me up. It was my curfew. When I walked past the boy, he didn’t even look at me. He was standing there with his arm around another girl, talking to his friends.”

Judy put her hand on Claire’s shoulder. “I know he was a teenager himself, but how can any human being use another person like that?”

Claire had asked herself that question too many times to count. “I don’t know, but I’ve let it happen to me twice now.”

“Does Spencer’s dad know about him?”

Claire laughed humorlessly. “He said there was no way my baby was his. As easy as I’d been, I probably slept with half the guys in school after he broke me in. He didn’t want anything to do with me or my baby.”

There was trepidation in Judy’s voice when she asked, “And your parents?”

“My way or the highway, remember?” Claire mentally stiffened her spine. “I had already shamed them with my promiscuity, as they referred to it, but they weren’t going to stand for me shaming them by being an unwed mother and living with my baby in their house. They gave me a choice. I could either put my baby up for adoption, or they would disown me.” In her eyes, there had never been a choice; she would never give up her own child. “I left. I was declared an emancipated minor. Then I worked as much as I could, but I still had to depend on welfare to help us.” She met Judy’s eyes. “I took care of Spencer and myself. Now, we’re not rich, but I manage to keep a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, and food on the table…without any man helping me.”

Judy silently set her towel down and put her arms around Claire’s shoulders. “Spencer and Zoey are lucky to have you as a mom. Nobody could ever love their children more than you love yours.”

“I love them more than anything else in this world, and I would do anything for them. They’re my life.”

“I know they are.” Judy tightened her arm for just a moment before releasing Claire. “Thank you for trusting me enough to share that with me. I hope you know if you ever need to talk about Zoey’s father, I’ll listen. Just know I’m here for you.”

“Thank you, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to talk about Zoey’s father.” Was what he did to her really all that different from what Spencer’s father had done?

Mason looked around his room, wishing there was just one place he could sit other than his bed, or this wheelchair he was rapidly growing tired of. The soft-spoken woman taking x-rays already that morning told him he’d be much more mobile once the cast came off his arm. It couldn’t happen soon enough to suit him.

Deciding to read for a while, he reached across his torso and picked up the book Emily brought him during her last visit—a supposed western. It had too many love scenes in it to suit Mason’s taste, but he was so relieved when she showed up on Thanksgiving evening and apologized for jumping to the wrong conclusions about Betsy and him, he would have gladly accepted a Victorian romance from her. After her unfailing support right after his accident, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to willingly give up their friendship. Logan had been right to leave him in the bar the night Mason tried to get him to cheat on Emily. She deserved respect.

So did Claire. So had Claire. Frustration at the front of his mind, he hurled his book across the room, knocking the teddy bear off the windowsill. Great. Now he’d have to figure out a way to pick up both his book and the silly bear.

“Hey, is it safe for me to come in, or do I need to run to Logan’s site and borrow a hard hat first?” Brody Gaines hesitantly leaned through the slightly open doorway.

Mason managed to face his chair in Brody’s general direction. “Come on in, Brody. I’m harmless. That was just a little temper tantrum.”

Brody walked in, his female-pleasing smile in place as he surveyed the damage Mason caused. “Beating up on innocent stuffed animals?”

Mason snorted. “Bo carried that bear in here. If it was innocent when they bought it, no way it made it here that way.”

“If the bear could talk, he’d probably be able to say ‘this bites’ at least ten different ways,” Brody agreed, his blue eyes twinkling. He walked over and picked both the teddy bear and book up, placing the animal back on the windowsill before he came over to sit beside Mason.

Mason accepted the book Brody held out for him. “Thanks.” He stuffed it between his hip and the side of his chair.

Brody pulled a chair around so he was sitting a comfortable distance from Mason. Blonde hair, carelessly styled, added to his deceptively boyish appearance, which caused many of his courtroom opponents to underestimate his talent and abilities. Unfortunately, as he and his wife Abby saw it, his looks also garnered him way too much female attention on the ball diamond, where he played second base for the Slammers. Abby’s efforts to keep women away from “her man” were legendary.

“What can I do for you, Mason?” Brody solemnly asked. “Besides pick up poor defenseless toys and mushy westerns.”

“Huh?” Mason glanced down where he’d stuffed the paperback. “How’d you know this book was mushy? Have you read it?”

Brody grinned. “Not hardly. Abby has, though, and I bet she has something to do with you getting it.”

Mason nodded. “Emily gave it to me. It’s probably Abby’s copy.”

“I’ll smuggle some good stuff to you,” Brody promised him. “None of that kissing and sheathing his dagger stuff.”

Both men chuckled.

“I’m glad you called,” Brody told Mason. “I’ve wanted to come and visit, but we’ve been so busy at work, Jake and I barely even have time to say hello to each other. This way, I put you down as a client I needed to see during office hours.”

Mason sobered. “Actually, I intend to be your client.” He had thought of little else since the idea popped into his head. “If I talk to you about a legal matter, it’ll be confidential, right? Not even Abby will know.”

Brody’s smile faded. “Mason, do you want me here as your friend or your attorney?”

“I need legal advice. It’s about something very personal and paramount,” Mason answered. “I may decide not to act on it anyway, but I need to know where I stand.”

“Give me a dollar.” Brody held out his hand.

Mason slowly reached over to the tray where his wallet lay and pulled it to him. Had Abby already rubbed off on his friend? They had only been married for seven months, but Mason long ago stopped being surprised by the things she came up with. Now, it looked like Brody was going to be the same way.

At least his otherwise useless left hand could hold his wallet down while he got his money. He warily fished out a dollar bill and handed it to Brody before closing his wallet and returning it to the tray.

Brody stood up and stuffed the dollar into his pants pocket. Then, after slipping his coat off and putting it on the back of his chair, he walked over and locked the door.

“Okay. You just hired an attorney,” he told Mason. “How can I help you?”

When Mason decided he was going to do this, it was with the knowledge he would have to tell Brody every last detail. He may not have Brody as a friend after this was all over.

“This is something nobody knows. I mean, Logan and Emily figured out part of it, but they don’t know the whole story.” Mason looked into Brody’s eyes. “I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Okay,” Brody answered calmly.

This was it. “You remember, about fifteen months ago, around August when we all got together and took the boys to World of Wonders?” Brody nodded. “The weekend before we went, I slept with a woman.”

Brody’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry, Mason, but that’s nothing new.”

“This time it was,” Mason informed him. “This time I didn’t use protection.”

“Don’t tell me what I think you’re going to tell me.” Brody had a look of disbelief on his face.

He was just going to say it—in plain, simple English, say it. “I have a six-month-old daughter, Brody.”

Brody sat back in his chair, and his mouth dropped open. “You’re a father?”

“Yes.” Mason gave Brody time to digest the news. “I need to explain this to you. I don’t want to, though, because I’m…I’m ashamed of myself. What happened that night changed me.” If he didn’t believe anything else, Brody had to give credence to that. “I haven’t been with a woman since the night my child was conceived.”

A look of horror dawned on Brody’s face. “You didn’t force yourself on this woman, did you?”

Mason had searched his conscience and could honestly answer that question. “No.”

“Then what happened that you feel so guilty about?”

“Okay, I’m going to tell you, but please just try to understand,” Mason asked. “This is more challenging than you can imagine.”

Brody’s expression was inscrutable. “I’m listening.”

That night played back in Mason’s memory, and he began talking.

“This woman didn’t like me. I knew that. But one night…that one night…she was different. She acted happy to see me. She was so beautiful, Brody, I couldn’t believe it. So when I thought she wanted me to, I kissed her.” He could still feel that first kiss.

“She kissed me back.” His eyes held Brody’s. “I can honestly tell you I’ve never had a woman get so hot, so fast. She was all over me, dragging me into her house, taking off her clothes and yanking at mine.” The next part of his story helped a little bit. Just a little bit. “Brody, I tried to put the brakes on. I really did. I told her we needed to slow down and enjoy ourselves more. She just got even more wound up. It was like being attacked by the Tasmanian devil or something. I didn’t think about using protection, but I honestly don’t know if there would have been time if I had.” His face felt warm. “She…she was on top, and…you get the picture.”

His gaze dropped from Brody’s eyes to the floor. “It wasn’t until right after we were finished and she passed out, I realized how drunk she was. I could tell she’d been drinking, but I thought…I really did…that she’d just had enough to take the edge off. Then, when she passed out, I realized she hadn’t really wanted any of what happened between us. I took advantage of a woman who wasn’t in her right mind.”

“What did you do then?” Brody asked quietly.

“I dressed as fast as I could and got out of there. I tried to pretend it didn’t happen.” Mason waited for Brody to tell him how disgusted he was.

Brody’s expression hadn’t changed. “How did you find out about the baby?”

“Her mother thought the honorable thing to do was tell me she was pregnant and going to keep the baby.” He remembered Claire’s harsh words. “The thing is, she must have roused while I was getting dressed because she seemed almost as upset that I ditched her as she was about the sex.” Mason stopped talking and put his hand over his eyes.

“Go on,” Brody urged him.

Mason slowly looked at Brody. “She was very familiar with my reputation. She told me I wasn’t fit to be any kind of a parent. I didn’t even deserve to see my child.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t support your daughter, financially or otherwise,” Brody observed, his voice neutral.

“It’s not because I don’t want to.” Mason felt lower than dirt when he was stupid enough to offer one day. “She said she’d beg strangers on the street before she so much as let me buy a jar of baby food.” He couldn’t keep tears from forming in his eyes. “I’ve never even seen a picture of my daughter, Brody—my own flesh and blood daughter.”

Brody sat there, not saying a word.

Mason wasn’t surprised. It was what he’d been expecting. “I understand,” he told Brody in a flat voice. “I don’t blame you. I was wrong to expect you to know what I’ve done, and even be able to tolerate me. I’d just appreciate it if you don’t say anything. It’s what her mother wants, too.”

“You need to shut up and stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Brody ordered. “You didn’t purposely take advantage of her. From the way it sounds, you were very much under the impression the sex was more than consensual. She was the aggressor. Unless she gave you reason to believe she wasn’t lucid, or able to make rational decisions for herself, you shouldn’t blame yourself. I’m not even sure she didn’t want intercourse to occur, and then felt ashamed of herself. It would be a heck of a lot easier to put the blame on your shoulders than admit she made a mistake, too.”

“But she was drunk,” Mason protested. “She wouldn’t have let me touch her if she’d been sober. I should have known that.”

Brody sounded like the competent attorney he was. “The point is, you didn’t know that. Not until after the fact. If she genuinely believed you took advantage of her in a fully inebriated state, and that she had nothing whatsoever to do with it, she could have called it rape.” Mason’s heart sped up. “Has she ever even mentioned that?”

“No.” Had he been wrong after all? “But is that what I did? Did I rape her?” He was going to be sick.

“Of course not,” Brody said adamantly. “Like I told you before, she was the aggressor. You thought she was more than willing, and she didn’t give you any reason to think otherwise. Are you sure she only had sex with you because she was drunk, or are you assuming that because of your past history with her?”

“I’m pretty sure she would have slapped my face when I kissed her if she’d been sober,” Mason sadly answered.

Brody shook his head. “I disagree, but it’s a moot point. I take it you want to see your daughter.”

“Yes.” That was one thing Mason was certain of. “More than you can imagine.”

“Do you have any proof the child is yours? Is your name on her birth certificate?”

Mason felt miserable. “Since my baby doesn’t have my name, I think it’s safe to assume it’s not on the birth certificate either.”

Brody stood up and began to pace. “We’d have to establish you’re the father before we can seek any kind of custodial arrangements. And, if her mother denies you’re the baby’s father, we’re probably looking at a whole other legal battle to make her accept a paternity test.”

“It’s hopeless, then.” At least he knew where he stood.

Brody froze in his tracks and looked at Mason incredulously. “You’re looking at one of the best lawyers in Indiana, thank you very much. Nothing is hopeless.” He gave Mason a small smile. “Now the question is, what do you want to do?”

Mason’s head whirled. “I guess I need to think about it. I’m not sure if she’s right. I’m probably not fit to be anybody’s father.”

“You know,” Brody said firmly, “we’ve all seen a change in you over the past year or so. You’re never happy anymore.”

“Is that my lawyer or my friend talking?” Mason asked. “That is if you can still stand to call me a friend.”