The Wedding Garden (8 page)

“Annie?” His stomach took a dive. “What’s wrong? Is it Lydia?”

“No, no, Lydia is…the same.”

Sloan’s tense shoulders relaxed. He gave the suddenly stricken Mr. Jones a glance of reassurance. Whether the old guy wanted to admit it or not, he was in love with Lydia. The puzzle was why he’d never done anything about it.

“Justin, then?” Had the boy gone crazy with the news that Sloan was his father and done something worse than breaking windows?

“Yes. Justin.” There was a pause while Sloan’s pulse rattled in his ears. “I changed my mind, Sloan.”

“That’s not an option.”

“I can’t do this.”

Sloan clenched his teeth. He didn’t want to discuss the circumstances of Justin’s birth in front of Popbottle, but Justin was going to learn the truth, one way or the other. Preferably from people he knew and trusted instead of someone like Roberta Prine.

“Are you still at Lydia’s?”

“Yes.”

“Hang tight. I’m on my way.”

A
nnie heard the rumble of a Harley. Sloan was here.

She dried her hands and hung the rose-colored hand towel carefully over the rack before going to greet him.

By the time she reached the living room, Sloan had come inside.

She stopped to stare. “What happened to you?”

His clothes were wrinkled and damp and his hair was a windblown mess.

His eyebrow went up in a comical expression. “Took a little swim.”

She couldn’t help herself. She grinned. Taking an impromptu dip was exactly like the Sloan of old. “How was it?”

He grinned back. “Great. Wanna go next time?”

The thought of being free and confident enough as a responsible adult to jump into the Redemption River in jeans and a T-shirt was almost beyond her now. When had she become so stodgy?

“So, what’s up?” he asked, tossing his sunglasses onto an end table. “Where’s Justin?”

“After you left, Dad came by. I sent Justin home with him.”

Sloan’s face closed up tight, but his words were sarcastic. “Sorry I missed him.”

“He said the same thing.”

“Yeah? What else did he say?”

“Sloan, please. Can’t we leave my dad out of this?”

“Never have. Why start now?”

He was getting angry, and that was the last thing Annie intended.

“Well, since you’re already mad, you might as well know. He left a message for you.”

Sloan laughed, but the sound was not cheerful. “See? I told you he loves me. A love note, I’m sure.”

“He said you should slow down when riding through town.”

“Hmm. That doesn’t sound like the chief. What were his exact words?”

She sighed. He was determined to get his hackles up. “He said if you blew through town like that again, the two of you would be spending time together at the jail.”

“That’s my boy. Gotta appreciate consistency.” His jaw ticked and his eyes blazed. This was not the way she wanted to start this discussion.

“Will you stop? We have far more important things to discuss than my overzealous father.”

The fight went out of him. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He reached for her hand. “Really. I’m sorry. I promised myself not to let your father rile me anymore. The bad blood between me and him is not your fault or your problem.”

Annie’s insides ricocheted with emotion. She loved her dad and couldn’t understand why the two of them couldn’t get along. But with Sloan holding her hand and staring earnestly into her eyes, she couldn’t think of anyone but him.

Lord help her, she didn’t want to fall in love with Sloan
again. He had a business and a home and a life in Virginia. He’d long ago washed his hands of her and Redemption.

But they had a child together.

As soon as the thought came, shame followed. She hadn’t used Justin to hold Sloan then and she wouldn’t use him now.

“We need to talk,” she managed.

“I thought we did that already and you agreed to tell Justin about me and him.”

“We did, but I just can’t.” She drew her hand away and the loss went clear to the toes of her sensible shoes. “Not by myself.”

Sloan’s demeanor changed. He went on full alert. “Hold that thought while I look in on Aunt Lydia.”

“I just came out of her room. She’s asleep again.”

But he turned and disappeared down the long hall anyway. He was completely devoted to his dying aunt, a fact that played havoc with Annie’s long-held opinion of irresponsible Sloan Hawkins. In fact, many things about the adult Sloan did not fit her mind-set. Even though he rode a Harley, drove too fast and wore those wretched jeans, he was a dedicated nephew and an obviously successful businessman. That was a shocker in itself, but it was his desire to help Justin that kept Annie awake at night. A desire that had begun even before he knew her son was also his.

Confused and troubled, Annie fidgeted while waiting for Sloan to return. She moved a bowl of rose-scented potpourri, wiped the dust off the TV, straightened a tapestry throw pillow.

She was terrified of telling Justin about his paternity. What if the boy lost all respect for her? He already had enough issues in that department since Joey’s betrayal. Sometimes Justin blamed Joey. Other times he blamed himself and even though self-blame was irrational, she didn’t know how to comfort him. What if the knowledge of his mother’s mistakes drove him so far away she couldn’t reach him?

A pensive Sloan ambled back into the living room. “I went in, but she didn’t wake up.”

The ache of sorrow pulled at Annie. As a nurse, she knew her patient’s heart would not go on much longer. As a friend, she pleaded with God to make Lydia well.

“Let’s go out on the veranda. I made some iced tea.” She got them both a glass and followed Sloan to the wicker furniture. Hot sun lit the open areas of the fenced backyard, but the shady covered porch, built to encourage a breeze, was cool. “The garden is coming along. I’m really impressed with your expertise. Couples will want to be married here again when you’re finished.”

He and Justin had cleaned and repaired the winding pathway of stone down the center of the garden. On either side of the path, they were planting an array of flowers and bushes to keep the blooms constant. Even now, ever-blooming lavender hung its head over the pathway and released a sweet scent on the wind.

“Credit Mrs. Miller at the plant farm and some sage advice from Aunt Lydia.” Sloan sipped his tea. “And the photos she kept of weddings. I just hope we can finish the work in time.”

Annie didn’t need to ask what he meant.

“Justin’s learning a lot from you. Last night, I heard him explaining the details of propagating chrysanthemums.” Fingers stroking the cold, damp glass, Annie laughed softly at the memory. “Delaney pretended to be fascinated.” And Justin had puffed up with pride at his newfound knowledge.

“He’s got a mind like a steel trap. Never forgets anything. You should watch him with the plants. He treats them like babies. I think the kid’s a natural.”

Annie listened in gratitude as Sloan spoke with pride about their son. She knew she’d made the right decision. “Will you help me tell him?”

Sloan’s gaze snapped to hers. “You know I will. What changed your mind?”

“A lot of things. After you stormed out of here and I calmed down, I talked to Lydia. And I prayed about it.”

Those blue irises burned with intensity. “Did God answer?”

Sloan wasn’t being flip or sarcastic. Annie’s heart lifted with hope that Redemption’s bad boy would allow God to smooth the rough edges of his life as He’d done hers. She was a long way from perfect, but faith in God had given her a solid footing when life was crumbling around her.

“Yes, He did.” The tea glass clinked as she set it on the round patio table. “Oh, not in an audible voice, but he brought some things to mind that helped me decide.”

“Such as?” He drank deeply of his tea and set the glass carefully next to hers. Sloan might pretend casual indifference but his body language gave him away.

“Justin didn’t pose the question to me. He asked you. He came to
you,
Sloan. I think that has to be significant. He wanted you to help figure things out, not me.”

Sloan reached for the glass again but didn’t drink. “Kids aren’t always comfortable talking to their parents. Maybe he was embarrassed. Or maybe he didn’t want to embarrass you, especially if the rumor was wrong.”

“Or maybe he trusts you more.” Her stomach ached to believe such a thing. “Things have been shaky between Justin and me since Joey left.”

“Annie, he trusts you. He loves you. But right now, he’s an angry kid who doesn’t know what to do with his feelings. He even said he hates Joey.”

Annie gnawed at her bottom lip. He’d said the same thing to her more than once. “I know.”

“Was Joey—” Sloan’s fingers flexed against the glass “—abusive?”

Joey had been a lot of things, but Annie thanked God he’d never hurt any of them physically. “No, never. He mostly ignored Justin, but he did the same with Delaney. Joey had his business, his friends. His family came last.”

“That stinks.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Did he know that Justin wasn’t his?”

“Yes. I made a lot of mistakes, Sloan, but not that one. Joey was the one person I told.”

A muscle along one cheekbone jerked. “Why him?”

Not for the reasons you probably think.

“Joey came to my house the day after you left. He said he’d always loved me and wanted to be there for me.” She shrugged, remembering the shattered young girl she’d been. “He said all the right things, the things I needed to hear that day. I was heartbroken and scared and I blurted out the truth. He said he didn’t care. He would marry me anyway.”

“And he did.”

“Yes. But afterward when I began to show, he seemed embarrassed by the pregnancy. When anyone congratulated him on becoming a father, he would smile and go through the motions, but I could tell he was upset. He grew distant even before Justin’s arrival. Later, when Delaney was born, I thought things would be different. They weren’t. While I was in the hospital giving birth, he was with his girlfriend.”

She didn’t know why she’d felt compelled to tell Sloan that humiliating piece of information.

Sloan’s face was blank, so she wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Did he hate her for marrying Joey? Did he understand at all what she’d gone through? Did he even care?

“No wonder the kid is angry.”

Something warm and sweet turned over inside Annie and she fought it, knowing the feeling was for Sloan. At the least,
she should avoid this man like the flu, not be leaning on his empathy. She still didn’t understand why he’d left without a word, nor had he made any effort to explain himself. Wasn’t that a sign that he had never really cared?

The mother in her rose to the surface. She was not the important one here. Justin was. She could put her own heartaches aside for the sake of her child.
Their
child.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.” She’d spent so much time praying for Justin, her knees were sore. If God didn’t give her an answer soon, she’d be crazy. “Now I’m scared of losing him completely.”

Sloan reached for her hand and tucked it against his knee. Her pulse jumped, but she made no attempt to pull away.

“Eleven is a vulnerable age,” he said. “What happens then can make or break you.”

She suspected he was thinking of his own experience. Losing his mother had been a powerful turning point. “You turned out all right.”

He gave a short, bitter laugh. “Did I? Then why have I spent my entire adult life without a relationship with my son? Why wasn’t I smart enough to consider you might be pregnant when I left?”

“Beating yourself up isn’t going to resolve anything. Regardless of the lost years, today Justin needs you.”

“I’m a stranger, Annie,” he said grimly. “But this isn’t about my mistakes or yours. It’s about Justin.” He swallowed, gaze blazing into hers with a fire that spoke of his feelings. “It’s about helping our son. What he needs is truth. And he’s going to get it.”

She didn’t agree that Sloan was a stranger, but she wasn’t going to argue the matter. He and Justin had a natural bond. It was visible when they worked in the garden or played catch or joked with each other in a male way that made no sense to
Annie but had them both grinning. Something inside Justin had instinctively gravitated toward his biological father. She’d been afraid at first, but now she’d begun to believe Sloan Hawkins was exactly what her child needed.

As scared as she was of Justin’s reaction, she asked, “Will you come over tonight? I’ll have Delaney spend the night with my parents so we can talk to him freely.”

“I’ll be there.”

He squeezed her hand and went inside the house.

Sloan’s insides felt as raw as hamburger meat. If a man could get a bleeding ulcer in one day, he’d gotten one. For those few minutes sitting beside Annie on the Hawkins’s veranda, looking out over the gardens as they’d done as teens, he’d felt…right, somehow. And he’d felt like a father worrying over his son.

He’d known the moment he walked inside this house and seen Annie Crawford again that he wouldn’t leave unscathed. But he’d never imagined the tangled mess he’d discover—worse than the tangle of vines and weeds in the Wedding Garden.

Where did a man begin to make up for years of absence? Would Justin even want an unknown father in his life? Perhaps the better question was would Annie allow it? She needed him now as moral support, but what about afterward?

He slammed a fist into his palm.

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t be a father even if Annie and Justin allowed it. Considering his home and business were in Virginia, he’d leave again someday. He’d never belonged in Redemption and still didn’t want to be here.

No, that wasn’t entirely true.

But true enough.

Like a prizefighter shadowboxing, he was jabbing himself to pieces with indecision and uncertainty.

Frustrated, confused and antsy for the meeting tonight, he worked in the garden until Annie left for the day. Then he went inside, showered and headed for Aunt Lydia’s room. She’d only been awake once today when he’d popped in.

This time her eyes were open. “Sloanie.”

The boyhood endearment was barely a whisper.

“Auntie,” he said, going to sit beside her. “What’s my best girl need?”

The false cheer wasn’t lost on her.

She lifted a weak hand and he covered the smooth skin with his. His sunshine tan against her indoor pallor saddened him. He didn’t know how he was going to handle losing this woman. She had been his anchor when the whole world had collapsed around him.

“I need my boy to find happiness.”

“I’m happy as a lark. Got a great life. A great business. The best aunt in the world.”

“Sloanie,” she said again, the soft word a rebuke. He’d never been able to fool her. “I don’t have much time left. I love you so much. I don’t want you to be sad or angry when I go.”

He bent to kiss her cheek, the knot in his chest tightening. He didn’t want to talk about this. “I love you, too.”

“I have to tell you some things.” Her voice was weak and raspy with breathlessness.