A Bride by Summer. Sandra SteffenЧитать онлайн книгу.
She stood mute, waiting for him to continue.
“Unless I’m mistaken, you alluded to that at the restaurant,” he said.
Half the lights in the room were burned out and the bulbs in the other half were so dim and the fixtures so grimy, light didn’t begin to reach into the corners. Murky shadows pooled beneath the small tables and mismatched chairs. The billiards tables in the back were idle, the shape of the neatly folded bedroll barely discernible from here.
Carefully tucking Bubble Wrap around another camera, Ruby finally said, “Are you telling me Marsh isn’t Joey’s father?”
“It’s possible he is.” Reed’s voice was deep, reverent almost, and extraordinarily serious. “But it’s also possible I am.”
Surely Ruby’s dismay was written all over her face all over again. But she didn’t have it in her to care how she looked.
The baby she’d seen before lunch was possibly Reed’s? Had she heard him correctly?
“Oh, my God.”
He nodded as if he couldn’t have said it better himself.
She slid the cumbersome box of cameras aside. Resting one elbow comfortably on the bar’s worn surface, she gestured fluidly with her other hand and said, “Have a seat, cowboy. This is one story I’ve got to hear.”
For years, Bell’s Tavern had been considered the black sheep of drinking establishments in Orchard Hill. It was where someone just passing through town went to drink too much and whine to strangers, where regulars and first-timers alike drowned their sorrows and cheated at cards, among other things. Its saving grace had also been its most redeeming quality.
What happened at Bell’s Tavern stayed at Bell’s Tavern.
It seemed oddly fitting that Reed was about to reveal details of a nearly unbelievable situation to the new owner right here at Bell’s, where countless others had undoubtedly done the same thing. Choosing a stool, he sidled up to the bar and made himself comfortable.
The carton containing his sister-in-law’s cameras sat on the counter near Ruby’s right elbow. As she tucked an old movie projector from the fifties into the box, another curl pulled free of the clip high on the back of her head and softly fluttered to the side of her face. Her skin looked smooth, her lips full and lush, her eyes green and keenly observant.
A warm breeze wafted through the open back door, but other than the muffled sounds of midafternoon meandering in with it, Bell’s was quiet and still. And Reed’s voice was quiet as he began.
“My brothers and I discovered Joey on our doorstep ten days ago. We heard a noise none of us could identify and rushed out to the front porch. There the baby was, strapped into his car seat, wailing his little head off.”
“He was by himself? But he’s so small,” she said.
Reed released a deep breath. “I know. Who leaves a baby on a doorstep in this day and age? Noah is an airplane test pilot and always buzzes the orchard when he’s returning from out of town. From the cab of his plane an hour before we discovered Joey, he saw a woman walking across our front lawn. Despite the fact that it was eighty degrees out that day, she was wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt. We think she was hiding Joey underneath it.”
“And you believe this woman was Joey’s mother?”
“Who else could she have been?”
When Reed was growing up, his dad always said Marsh and Noah had been born looking up, Marsh to the apple trees and Noah to the sky, while Reed looked at the horizon and the future. That night the three of them had stood dazedly looking down, completely baffled and dumbfounded by the sudden appearance of the baby crying so forlornly at their feet.
“Joey was wearing a blue shirt and only one sock. Days later Noah discovered the other one under the weeping willow tree near the road. We theorize that his mother hid there until we’d taken him safely inside.”
Ruby covered her mouth with one hand as if imagining that. If it was true, Joey’s mother wasn’t someone who’d carelessly and heartlessly dumped her innocent baby off and driven away without a backward glance. Instead, she’d hidden behind a tree where she could see the porch but no one could see her, and had remained there until she was certain Joey was safe.
Reed remembered looking out across their property that evening, past the meadow that would serve as a parking lot that would be teeming with cars in the fall, to the apple trees, gnarled and green, and the neatly mown two-track path between each row. The shed where the parking signs were stored along with the four-wheelers and all the other equipment they used for hayrides and tours every autumn had been closed up tight.
He’d peered at the stand of pines and the huge willow at the edge of the property, but he’d seen nothing out of the ordinary. Certainly no one had moved.
He could only imagine how still she must have held, and he couldn’t even fathom how difficult it must have been to leave Joey in such a way. What he didn’t know was why. Why had she left him? Why hadn’t he or Marsh been told one of them was going to be a father? Why had she waited? Why had it come to this? Why?
“When I picked the baby up, a note fluttered to the porch floor. It said, ‘Our precious son, Joseph Daniel Sullivan. He’s my life. I beg you take good care of him until I can return for him.’”
Ruby seemed to be waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, she asked, “That’s it? That’s all the note said?”
Reed nodded. “Nearly word for word. It wasn’t addressed or signed. So we don’t know which of us is Joey’s father.” He paused for a moment before clarifying. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
Tucking another loose curl behind one ear, she said, “You know what I’m thinking?”
“Are you thinking that sounded perverse and oddly twisted?” he asked.
She smiled, and some of the tension that had been building inside him eased. Without explanation, she ducked down behind the bar, disappearing from view. He heard a refrigerator door open below. When she popped back up, she had a bottle of chilled water in each hand.
He accepted the beverage she offered him, and while she opened hers and tipped it up, he thought about that first night with Joey. In five minutes’ time, life as he’d known it had gone from orderly to pandemonium.
“Joey was crying and Noah and Marsh were trying to free him from the car seat and I was desperately digging through the bags he’d arrived with until I found feeding supplies. After a few clumsy attempts we managed to prepare a bottle, and while Noah fed Joey, I did a little research online. Judging by his size, the way he made eye contact, supported his own head and kicked his feet and flailed his arms, he was likely three months old, give or take a week or two. We did the math, and reality sank in like a lead balloon. One of the three women from our respective pasts had some explaining to do.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” she said.
He lifted the plastic bottle partway to his mouth and added, “Why would a woman go through a pregnancy alone, physically, financially and emotionally, only to desert a baby as strong and smart and damn close to perfect in every way three months later?”
Ruby shrugged understandingly, and Reed thought she might have missed her calling until now. “Is Lacey the woman from Noah’s past?” she asked.
“Yes, she is,” Reed said. “She took herself out of the equation almost immediately. Once you’ve gotten to know Lacey better you’ll believe me when I say she wasn’t subtle about it, either.”
“So,” Ruby said gently. “Paternity comes down to you and Marsh.”
Reed nodded before taking a long drink of his water. “When