The Lawman's Secret Son. Lorraine BeattyЧитать онлайн книгу.
I have to tell you, I ran into Ralph as I was leaving and he forgot to take the flyer to the printers today, and now we won’t have them to hand out at church on Sunday.”
Carrie sank down onto the sofa. “Great. I really wanted those available this weekend. What happened?”
“He claims we never gave the original to him. Carrie, I know Ralph has been the go-to guy for the church forever and he prides himself on being an unofficial assistant to every church event, but he’s getting older and forgetful and he doesn’t hear as well as he should.”
Carrie knew only too well. Ralph had pledged his help for the Chili Cook-Off last month, but she’d ended up doing everything herself, taking valuable time away from other projects because Ralph either didn’t show up or confused his instructions.
“I think we need to make an announcement for a new assistant.”
“And break Ralph’s heart? Not to mention humiliating him. I can’t do that.” Ralph had a heart as big as all outdoors and he loved his Lord and his church. He would never understand being replaced.
“Carrie, you need someone to help you. You’re stretched to the max now.”
“I know. We’ll have to pray that the Lord will provide the perfect solution.”
“I wish I had your faith. All I see is a worn-out friend who’s going to crumble into dust once this picnic is over.”
“Then I’ll count on you to bring me hot soup and chocolate cake.”
They discussed a few more issues with the picnic before hanging up. Carrie was continually amazed at how the Lord had worked through her life, bestowing blessings that she never dreamed possible. He’d taken the battered, confused and hurting person she’d been, restored her and made her whole again. Her life was finally moving in the right direction. She had a decent education, a job that paid a comfortable wage and a work environment that not only made her happy but fed her spiritually, as well.
Now she was free to save up for her house and finish her degree. One by one she was conquering the shadows of her childhood and sealing them up as securely as the record of her past.
Or was that really the truth? Seth’s past had revisited him tonight. Would hers do the same? Would it rise up like a dark fist and smash her new world to pieces again? She shook her head to dislodge the negative thoughts. Her past followed her around like Marley’s chain. She’d tried to forget it, to ignore it, but she couldn’t let it go even though she knew deep down she wasn’t that person anymore. She was a child of God—loved, worthy and valued. He’d set her on a new path, and looking back wouldn’t gain her anything. She had to trust that He would sort it all out. But it wouldn’t hurt to keep her guard up and her heart protected.
Seth stared at the small boy playing with the battered yellow truck. He’d reread the note a dozen times, looking for something he’d missed, and had spent the last half hour making calls that had gotten him nowhere. There was no number listed in Vegas for his former wife, and the few contacts he still had proved to be dead ends. A quick search on the internet had been fruitless, too. He couldn’t take the note at face value, but something inside him knew that the words were true. He simply wasn’t ready to accept it without investigating. He needed a birth certificate, proof of some sort that Jack was his. He needed access to the police department files, but as a newbie on the Dover force he didn’t have many favors to call in. He’d have to wait until he reported to work on Monday and see what he could accomplish.
Right now he had a more pressing task to address—telling his mother about Jack. He needed to do that soon. It wouldn’t take but a moment for word to get out, and he didn’t want her to learn about his son from strangers or rumors. Telling his siblings was another thing he wasn’t looking forward to. He had to uncover the truth for everyone’s sake.
His attention returned to the little boy sitting in front of the hearth. Their gazes collided, sending a jolt of recognition along Seth’s nerves. Those big cobalt blue eyes were better than any birth certificate.
The boy looked uneasy, forcing Seth to realize that since Carrie had left he’d been preoccupied with phone calls and internet searches instead of paying attention to Jack. That was something he’d have to correct.
He leaned forward, opening his arms and offering his best smile. “Hey, Jack. Come over here. Let me see that cool truck of yours.” The boy hesitated only a moment before standing and coming to him. He stopped within the circle of Seth’s body, and he was struck again by how small and frail the child was. His throat tightened. Jack was a baby. Too young to be abandoned by the one who should love him most. Seth sent up a grateful prayer that Carrie had been the person to find him and that Jack was now safe with him.
“That’s a really sharp looking truck you have, buddy.”
“It’s a supertruck.”
Seth smiled at the sincere look in his blue eyes. It was the most Jack had said all evening. He hoped that meant he was feeling more comfortable. “Awesome. What does it do?”
Jack fingered the battered toy. “It can fly.” He angled the toy into the air. “It can go way faster than anything.”
“That’s cool.”
A frown tugged his little brows downward. “What’s your name?”
The simple question hit with the force of a sledgehammer to his solar plexus. That was the biggest question of his life. What did he tell the child? While his instincts said Jack was his son, if he was wrong it would be wise to keep some emotional distance for both their sakes. He searched for a compromise. “My name is Seth, but how about you call me Pop?”
Jack thought a moment, then smiled. “That’s a silly name.”
He picked Jack up and set him on his lap. “It’s what we used to call my dad. It’s sort of a special nickname.”
“Are you my dad?”
The longing in the little voice tore through him. He pulled the boy closer. “We’re going to figure that out together, okay?” The odor from his dirty clothing assaulted Seth’s nose.
Carrie had pointed out that he needed a bath. It was after eight o’clock. Time for Jack to be asleep. Reaching for the plastic sack, Seth pulled out what he hoped were clean clothes but proved to be little more than rags. His shoes had holes in the toes, the thin T-shirt was useless and there was no clean underwear at all. How could Tiff have treated the boy this way? She’d had her problems, but he’d never imagined her as an unfit mother. Who was he kidding? He didn’t know anything about his former wife. That was the problem.
His problem now was what to do with Jack. The clothes he wore would probably disintegrate in the washer. This was a bachelor household. He’d only been back in Dover a few weeks, and he’d been too busy getting settled into his house and his new role as a Dover police officer to think of much else.
He needed help. Seth rubbed his forehead. There was only one person he could turn to, and he dreaded asking. A glance at the clock pointed out how late it was. Jack needed to go to bed. He picked up his phone and dialed Carrie’s number. “Hey, Carrie.”
“Seth? Is Jack okay? What’s wrong?”
“Jack’s fine, but I need your help.” He could sense her resistance through the connection. He hoped she wouldn’t turn him down. “I went through the things in Jack’s bag. None of the clothes are wearable, and the ones he has on should be tossed. I want to give him a bath, but I don’t have anything for him to put on afterward. I thought maybe you had a small shirt or something.”
“No, nothing that tiny. I’ll be right over.”
She was at the door within moments, and clearly unhappy to be there. She’d changed from the simple skirt and top she’d worn earlier to dark sweatpants