Texas Lullaby (Texas Montgomery Mavericks Book 7) (15 page)

He chuckled. “Got yourself a couple of smart ones.”

“That I do. Come on in the kitchen. I’m making meatloaf and I want to get it in the oven.”

He followed her in, stopping to pick up Levi from his pen for a wet, sloppy baby kiss. “How’s the big man today?” he said as Levi banged a plastic teething ring against Jason’s head.

“He’s good,” Lydia said. “The teething is much better, so my happy baby is back.”

“You’ve always been a happy baby. Isn’t that right?” Jason said in a sing-song voice to Levi.

“Want a beer?” Lydia asked.

“Sure.” Jason set Levi back into his pen. “I’ll get it since you’re up to your elbows in raw hamburger meat.”

He cracked off the top, tossed it in the trash and took a draw off the longneck. It was sweet and cold as it rolled down his throat. Once he had the dryness in his throat quenched, he kissed Lydia behind her ear. She shivered and he grinned. Yeah, he knew all her hot spots.

“Have a good day?” he asked.

She looked over her shoulder. “Pretty good. You?”

Actually, it’d been a bitch of a day––three days actually––but he wasn’t going to unload on Lydia. She had enough on her plate.

“Spent the day in Judge Worthy’s court. Never has a name been such a misnomer.”

She laughed. “Ass, is he?”

Jason slipped off his jacket, hung it on the back of a kitchen chair and loosened his tie.

“He’s an ass on his good days. Today wasn’t one of his good days.”

Tiny, but loud, footsteps pounded on the hardwood flooring as Ellery and Annie ran into the kitchen.

“Can we draw pictures?”

Lydia looked at the girls and smiled. “Sure. Do you have paper?”

Annie nodded.

“Okay.”

The girls raced from the room.

“Do they ever walk anywhere?” Jason asked with a laugh.

“Only to bed at night.”

Jason polished off the beer and tossed the bottle in the trash. “Can I help with dinner?”

“Nope.” Lydia slid the meatloaf into the oven. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that. What’s up?”

Lydia washed her hands and then walked to a chair as she was drying them. She sat and folded her arms on the table in front of her.

“This is tough,” she said.

A niggling fear tickled Jason’s spine. “Just spit it out.”

“It’s about our wedding, well, marriage actually.”

“Okay. You ready to set a date?”

Lydia’s face was a window into her every thought. He could see where she was headed written all over her face.

“No. I’m not.” She reached out and laid her hand on his forearm. “I’m not going to either.” She sighed. “You’ve been my rock over the past two months. Always being there when I, or the children, needed you, but I can’t expect you to take on all this.” She pulled her hand back. “My life is a total mess right now. I’m glad my folks are moving here, but that’s just another issue on my already crowded plate.”

“So you want to postpone our wedding until next year?”

She shut her eyes and slowly shook her head. “Permanently.” She dug into the pocket of her shorts and set her engagement ring on the table. “It’s not right to keep you hanging on when I don’t know where my life is going to take me next. You deserve more than I can give right now.”

He stared at her, not believing what he was hearing. “You are breaking our engagement.”

She sighed. “I am. Look, Jason, when you asked me to marry you, I didn’t have three children to raise. And now my aging parents are moving here to be with us. It’s too much to ask of you.”

“Don’t you think that should be my decision?”

Even though she gave him a smile, the sadness etched on her face drove a sharp dagger into his soul. “You are the type of guy who stands by his word. I know you.” She swept an arm around the room. “You didn’t bargain for this. You didn’t want this life. You made that crystal clear, and I appreciated that. I knew marrying you meant that I would never have children and, while giving up that option was painful, I loved you enough to do that. But now?” She shrugged. “Now I have three children that I love with every ounce of my being.”

“And you believe me such a shallow man that I can’t accept and love these children?”

“Not at all. I’m saying I’m not asking you to. My life is a wreck, and I love you too much to suck you into my whirlpool of problems.”

He clenched his teeth, furious at her and her placating words. She pushed the twenty-thousand-dollar ring toward him.

“I can’t keep this.”

“This isn’t you, Lydia.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “You’re not thinking right. I won’t accept this.”

“Jason,” Ellery yelled as she raced into the kitchen. “Look what I drew.” The blond-headed girl waved a piece of paper at him.

“Beautiful,” he said. His vision swam, making it impossible for him to focus on anything but Lydia’s face, the face he’d loved for so many years. Lightheaded and totally thrown by her words, he’d answered without looking at the crayon drawing or the paper.

“Ellery. Where did you get that paper?” Lydia asked.

Now he did look at the drawing he was holding. The paper was thick and yellow with age. Slashes of orange, blue and pink crayon bisected the sheet. His heart fell to his gut.

The girls had used his great-great-parents’ original land grant from eighteen-eighty-five for their coloring project. He’d lifted the valuable papers from his parents’ house a couple of weeks ago. The plan had been to have the papers framed as a wedding anniversary present to his parents from their children. Now, an orange crayon drawing of something––a dog, maybe––took up residence in the top left corner. On the back of the paper, streaks of orange, purple and pink filled the page.

“What is that?” Lydia asked.

“The original land grant giving my great-great-grandparents one-hundred and sixty acres to start a farm.” He swallowed against the knot in his throat. “The originals,” he repeated. “Not a copy.”

“I am so sorry, Jason,” Lydia said. “Ellery, you had no right to go into Jason’s papers.”

“But he said we could.”

“He most certainly did not,” Lydia replied.

Ellery nodded vigorously. “At his office. Said we could write on the backs.”

Jason’s heart was a sledgehammer on his chest. “What else did you write on?” His voice was much calmer than he felt.

“Show him,” Lydia said.

Ellery ran back to the living room, Lydia and Jason close on her heels. He missed a step as he took in the array of scattered papers.

“All of this came from that bag?” he asked, pointing to his leather messenger bag.

Ellery nodded. “Just like at the office. We only wrote on the backs.” She smiled as though she’d been so smart to remember.

He picked up the pages nearest the toe to his shoe. The first one was page seventy-four of a 200 page corporate filing. The second sheet was page five of a divorce settlement for the Jernigans—the
signed
divorce agreement that’d taken him more than a month to get Wanda Jernigan to finally sign under protest.

“I don’t know what to say,” Lydia said. “I am so sorry.”

Jason’s jaw cramped from grinding his teeth. “Don’t say anything. I think you’ve said enough.” He looked at Ellery and Annie, who were watching him with wide eyes. “Girls, please pick up all the pages and bring them to me.”

As they raced to do as he’d asked, he looked at Lydia. “Once I have my papers, I’ll be gone, from here and from your life.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand. “I’ll make this easy for you. I’ll respect your wishes. Have a good life.”

Chapter Twelve

The hollowness that’d formed in Jason’s chest when he’d slipped Lydia’s engagement ring into his pocket consumed him, growing deeper and darker as the days passed. He continued to go to work every day. With all his legal work stored on his computer, replacing the Ellery and Annie colored documents simply required a reprinting. Mrs. Jernigan signed the divorce papers a little more quickly this time. Thanks to Leo’s Bar and Grill, it seemed that she’d discovered the nightlife of a newly single lady and was ready to embrace it, new cowboy boots and all.

Nights were the worst. His house was too quiet, although it was no more silent than it’d been before. However, now there was an emptiness there, a sense of a house too big for its occupant. Maybe his imagination had always filled the rooms with memories to be made with his wife. Now, each room echoed the loneliness he felt.

Two weeks had passed since the night Lydia had shoved the engagement ring back to him. There’d been no communication between them. No texts. No emails. No phone calls.

Sure, over the years they’d had their fights and break-ups, but never had it felt so final, so irreversible. Never had he felt so hopeless.

Another week went by, not that Jason could remember a damn thing about it. He went to work. He ate a cold sandwich and drank a beer for dinner when he got home. He went to bed. Up the next morning and repeat.

On Friday of the fourth week, his receptionist Margie stuck her head through his office door.

“Jason,” she said. “You’ve got a visitor.”

“Who is it and do they have an appointment?” He glanced at the clock. “It’s after five on a Friday. Tell whoever it is to make an appointment for Monday.”

He was exhausted. KC had had her baby––a son––the previous week. Michael had been in Dallas on a case this week, which meant he’d been in the office solo for over ten days.

“In fact,” he said. “I’m not sure why you’re still here.”

“I’m leaving now,” she said. “But you’re going to want to see this person.”

He sighed. “Fine. Send them in. Lock the front door so no other person who just has to have legal advice after hours sneaks in.”

She nodded. “Will do, boss. Good luck.”

Good luck? What the heck had she meant by that?

He heard Margie speaking and then an answering voice. She might have been whispering but that voice had murmured love vows and promises in his ear for so long, he’d know it anywhere.

The back door slammed, he assumed by Margie.

And then Lydia walked into his office.

Against his wishes, his heart leapt at seeing her. His mind sent out warning alarms that the rest of his body ignored. He stood, wanting to go to her, hold her. Instead, he grasped the edge of his desk, forcing himself to remain motionless.

She looked exhausted. Her brunette hair, usually shiny and full with waves, hung limply down her back. Her face was wan, making the blush on her cheeks stand out. The light creases around her mouth that intensified when she smiled were deep grooves. She chewed on her bottom lip.

“Hi, Jason.”

He shook his head, his heart continuing to throw itself against his chest. “Really? A month of no communication and you waltz in here like you expect me to be glad to see you?”

She momentarily shut her eyes and sighed. “I don’t blame you for being upset with me.”

“Upset? Upset is a word that describes how I feel when the Dallas Cowboys lose a home game. Furious is the word I’d use for the woman who used me and kicked me to the curb.”

Her lips parted in a gasp. “Used you? I…I never used you. I loved you.”

He scoffed. “Right. Love. Whatever.” He retook his seat. “You called this meeting, so what’s up?”

“May I sit?”

He waved to the chair in front of his desk. “Sure. Make yourself at home. Say your piece. I have a cold beer waiting for me at home.”

She sighed. “What did you do about the land-grant deed? I still feel terrible about that.”

“Framed it. Gave it to my parents, who thought it was so cute that Ellery had drawn on it.” He stood. “If that’s why you’re here, we’re done. Deed framed. Present delivered. Parents loved it.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s something else.”

“Fine.” He sat. “This isn’t the only law firm in town. If this is a legal matter, I would strongly suggest using another firm.”

His heart jackhammered against his chest. Drawing in a depth breath was damned near impossible. Below his ribcage, a sharp, intense pain radiated to his gut. The sooner he could get her out of his office, the sooner he could get home and get drunk.

“Spit it out, Lydia. What do you want?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Of all the things she might have told him, this would have been dead last on his list.

He dropped his head heavily against the headrest. “Well, it all makes sense now.”

She frowned. “What makes sense?”

“Why you took off your engagement ring but kept me hanging around. What happened? Did your lover dump you when you told him you were pregnant? Or did you find a new lover during the past month?”

“What are you talking about? You’re the father.”

His laugh was harsh. “Not hardly, my little two-timing ex.”

If her face had been pale when she walked in, it was positively bloodless now.

“I never two-timed you. Ever. We made this baby back in May. At your house. After the massages.”

He leaned on his desk. “Well, I did have a mighty fine massage that night, but I doubt that would have cured my lifelong infertility.”

“What?” She sagged against the back of her chair. “Infertility? What are you talking about?”

“Me.” He pointed to his chest. “Infertile, as in no fathering babies. You’re a doctor. You understand what that means.”

“But…but until I went on the pill, we always used condoms Why didn’t you tell me?”

He snorted. “The condoms started as protection from disease, not pregnancy, but now? Damned wish I’d kept on using them. I have no idea who you’ve been fucking behind my back. Do I need to get checked for some horrible STD?”

His words were mean and cruel, and he didn’t care. How dare she come in here and try to pass off some other man’s baby as his.

“Jason. You aren’t infertile.” She swept her hand across her abdomen. “I’m walking proof of that. You can’t be. I haven’t been with anyone but you.”

“Sorry. Not buying the crap you’re selling, Lydia. I suggest you head back to the poor sap you’re sleeping with and tell him your sob story.” He narrowed his eyes in a glare. “I am not the father of any child. I will never be the father of any children. Do. You. Understand?” He rose. “I loved you. I love those three children you’re raising, and I might have even been able to accept another man’s child if you’d been honest with me. Instead, you come in here and try to pass off another man’s child as mine. No, darling. That I cannot accept. Now leave and don’t come back.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Jason. You
have
to believe me. This is your child.”

“Leave, Lydia.” He pointed toward his door. “I believe you know the way out.”

As she left, she slammed his office door hard enough to bounce his undergraduate diploma off the wall. It fell to the floor with a crash. Tiny shards of glass scattered in all directions around the floor, along with his heart.

* * * * *

Jason had no memory of his drive home. He barely remembered locking up the office and getting in his SUV.

Grown men do not cry
, he told himself over and over as he sped through town. If that were true, why was the view through his windshield so blurry?

Once home, he went directly to the kitchen for a beer. He twisted off the top, flipped it toward the trash, watched it land on the floor, decided he didn’t give a shit and tipped the bottle to his mouth. The cold, yeasty liquid rolled down his throat and did nothing to ease the burn in his chest. The bottle emptied after two long swallows. He pulled the carton holding the five remaining beers from the fridge and headed out onto his back deck.

The next two beers slid into his gut as easily as the first one had, but the fire of anger continued to rage.

Lydia with another man. His mind refused to accept the fact, but what other explanation could there be? As much as he would have loved to have children with her, his crappy physiology prevented that.

“Damn it.”

With every molecule of strength in his body, he hurled an empty bottle at the oak tree at the end of his deck. The green glass exploded into jagged fragments, the shards scattering on the deck and ground below.

The woman he’d believed to be his soul mate, the woman he’d trusted with his heart had destroyed him with two words. He’d been serious when he’d told her that if she’d come in and told him the truth about another man, he might have been able to accept raising the child. That’s how much he loved her. That’s how much he’d already come to love three children who weren’t his biologically. He’d been ready to adopt them, raise them with Lydia.

After being told in his twenties that he would be infertile, he’d given up on ever having a family. He made sure everyone knew he’d never have a family because he didn’t
want
one.

But he did want a family. He wanted the family he’d been a part of with Lydia and her children. He’d fallen in love with Ellery, Annie and Levi. Even after the twins had colored on important documents, the love he felt for them had never wavered. Sure, he’d been upset, but that hadn’t put a dent in what he felt for them.

Then Lydia had jerked the rug from under him by dumping him and taking the children out of his life.

As he tipped the fourth bottle of beer to his mouth, he heard a car door slam. He didn’t move, other than to lower the bottle after he’d sucked it dry. Whoever was at his front door could leave. He didn’t want company.

The doorbell chimed. He stayed where he was.

There was a loud rap of knuckles on the door. He sent his rocker into motion, but only to lean over and grab another beer.

Boot heels clomping on the stairs leading up his deck penetrated his beer haze. Damn it. Had to be family. They were the only ones who would come to his back door if he didn’t answer the front.

“Jason?”

He should have known. Travis, the nosiest older brother ever born.

“Jason?”

Oh goodie. Travis had brought his wife.

The gate at the top of the stairs creaked as it swung open.

“There you are,” Travis said. “You didn’t answer your door.”

“And yet you couldn’t take that as a hint,” Jason answered.

“What are you doing? How many of these have you had?”

Jason rolled his eyes––which he suspected were bloodshot––up toward his brother, who was hulking over him like a vulture.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Jason lifted the last of the six-pack to his mouth.

“Jason.” Caroline squatted beside his chair. “Lydia called. We’ve been worried about you.”

Jason looked at his sister-in-law and sighed. “I’m fine. Thank you for worrying about me.”

When he lifted the bottle to his mouth, Caroline reached over and rested her soft hand on his arm. “I love you as much as I love my own brother. It hurts me to see you like this.”

Her words ripped a hole in the secret place he stashed grief. His next couple of breaths came in shuddering gasps.

“Lydia’s pregnant,” he said, the words acid to his soul. “And it’s not mine.”

She didn’t appear surprised at his revelation.

“Come on,” she said, taking his arm. “Let’s go inside and talk where we’ll be more comfortable.”

Jason allowed her to lead him inside his own house. He dropped into a leather chair in the living room as Caroline and Travis found seats on the matching sofa.

“I know you never wanted children,” she began, “but accidents happen.”

He shook his head. “Not mine,” he stated flatly.

“How can you be so sure?”

He glanced at his brother. He’d almost rather cut off his balls than admit in front of Travis that he was less than a real man.

He shook his head. “I know, okay?” He started to rise, but Caroline set her hand on his knee.

“You can trust me, Jason. There’s nothing I haven’t heard and nothing you could tell me that would change how I feel.” She looked at Travis. “Maybe you could give Jason and me a little privacy.”

Travis stood.

“Wait,” Jason said. “He might as well stay. You’ll just tell him everything later anyway.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Caroline said. “I don’t discuss patients with him.
Ever.
Whatever you tell me stays between you and me.”

“Sit down, Travis. You might as well know the truth.” Jason rubbed his eyes, stalling for time, not that time would change anything about his reality. “Okay,” he said on a long exhale. “I know that the baby Lydia is carrying isn’t mine because—” he gulped in a breath and blurted, “—I’m sterile. Okay? You happy now?” He dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Oh, bro,” Travis said.

“Wait a minute,” Caroline replied, her skepticism obvious in her tone. “Sterile? Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Jason snapped. “Sterile, as in shooting blanks. No swimmers. Sterile.”

“Who told you that?” Caroline asked.

“I didn’t make this up.” Jason met Caroline’s gaze. “I’ve known for almost ten years that I couldn’t have children.”

Caroline patted Jason’s thigh. “Start at the beginning. Who told you that you were sterile?”

He sighed. “Dr. Franks in Austin. When I was in law school, I saw him for fatigue. I was so exhausted my brain was fuzzy. My hair was falling out. My skin itched like crazy. I thought it was all due to the lack of sleep and long hours of studying. He ran some tests and told me I had hypothyroidism.”

She nodded. “Right. We talked about that last year when I refilled your prescription for levothyroxine.”

Jason threw up his hands. “There you have it.”

Caroline frowned. “There I have what?”

“You’re the doctor, Caroline. Do I have to paint you a picture? The hypothyroidism made me infertile.”

She shook her head. “Um, Jason. I think you may have misunderstood Dr. Franks.
Untreated
hypothyroidism may lead to infertility, but you’ve been taking your levothyroxine, right?”