For the Children. Tara Quinn Taylor
why. No one knew what to say.
Because there was nothing to say.
A year later, she’d received her appointment to the bench. She’d started a new job, a new life and was trying desperately to let go of the most painful parts of the old one.
“Susan is the little girl’s mother.”
“You know her?”
“I got in touch with her after…I’d seen Alicia’s obituary. It listed her mother’s name, said she was survived by a loving family and friends, and that was all. But there’d been this picture….”
She drew some more lines. Evenly spaced, even in length and thickness. Parallel in every way. Perfectly balanced.
“I knew there was nothing I could do, but I had to try to help.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Leah’s smile was sad. And full of love.
“She was so kind,” Valerie told her assistant. “Even in the face of her own grief, she was concerned about me and my widowhood. As we talked, we found we had something else in common—our poor choice in husbands. Apparently, the little girl’s father was out of the same mold as my husband. Except that Susan and her husband had already been divorced when Alicia was killed.”
“Oh my gosh! That poor woman!”
“Yeah. She had it pretty rough for a while there. She’ll never completely recover from her daughter’s death, but…” Valerie paused, feeling again that horrible stab of guilt about all the things she hadn’t done that might have prevented the senseless tragedy. “She remarried shortly after the accident and although I haven’t spoken with her, I heard not too long ago that she’s had a new baby. I sent a little outfit.”
“Maybe that’s why she’s calling, then,” Leah said, standing again. “To thank you.”
Valerie hoped so, thinking of the nearly broken woman she’d known. God, she hoped so.
SUSAN DOUGLAS COULDN’T think straight. Alex had been so good to her. The only good thing in her life at a time when she’d thought she’d never be capable of feeling good again. He’d saved her life. Literally.
And then spent many, many months slowly putting that life back together. Handing her the pieces as she was ready to receive them.
And never once, during all of that, had he made her feel as though she couldn’t do it without him. He’d never diminished her. He’d nurtured her.
She owed him everything.
She’d chewed the nails of both hands by midmorning that last Tuesday in October. She’d left the message for Valerie at eight, hoping the judge would call before her morning session started. And now it was ten-thirty.
The baby had been up, eaten, had his bath, occupying her for several hours. But now he was asleep again, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Far too alone…
The phone rang and she jumped, knocking it off its cradle. With a glance at herself in the mirror, she grabbed the mobile receiver from the floor.
She looked fine. Her shoulder-length dark hair was perfectly styled, her makeup exquisite, her slacks and sweater the epitome of fashion on a body that was model-slim just a month after her baby’s birth. If one overlooked the bleeding cuticle on her right index finger, she could easily pass for the rich socialite she’d always wanted to be.
“Hello?” She caught it on the fifth ring.
“Susan?”
“Valerie, hi!” Susan lifted her middle finger to her teeth. “Thanks for calling back so soon.”
“Of course! I’m always here for you, you know that.”
Tears filled Susan’s eyes. It happened a lot.
“I need your opinion.” If she hoped to get through this, she’d have to make it quick. She could read the warning signs.
“Sure, what about?”
How did Valerie always manage to sound cheerful? She’d suffered a hell of a lot, too. In some ways more than Susan had. Yet, try as she might, Susan couldn’t find the pure goodwill that infused Valerie Simms’s voice.
“It’s complicated.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“I just had a baby.”
“I know! Congratulations! Did you get the outfit I sent?”
“Yes.” Susan paced the kitchen floor, stepping only on the diamond-shaped markings in the pattern. “I’m late with thank-you notes and I’m really sorry. Alex mailed the last of them this morning.”
“Then you’re way ahead of where I was!” Valerie laughed. “The twins were six months old before I got around to even thinking about thank-you notes.”
Susan didn’t feel “ahead.” As a matter of fact, she was sliding back so fast she was terrified. Everything confused her.
Except that she had to protect Alex. And baby Colton.
“My ex-husband is trying to challenge Colton’s paternity.”
“What!”
“He says the baby is his and not Alex’s.”
“Is the man insane?” Valerie asked, and then continued, “No, wait, we know he’s insane. But he can’t be that insane! You’ve been divorced for three years!”
“I know.” She was blowing it. Wasn’t putting enough indignation into her voice. Valerie was her only hope of winning this.
“Is there some reason for him to think the child is his?”
“Colton is Alex’s son.”
“But is there some reason your ex might think otherwise?”
“No, of course not,” Susan said, trying to collect herself. “We slept together once, after the divorce, and he’s claiming that as the reason he’s doing this, but the timing’s all wrong.” God, she wished that was so. Still… “He doesn’t want Colton, Valerie. Think about it. Think about him. He’s just doing this to get back at me. It’s a control thing, you know that.”
She sank down to the kitchen floor, and pulled hard at the cuticle of her middle finger with her teeth. Valerie just had to believe her. She had to.
Alex didn’t know about that night she’d found the bastard crying at the cemetery. And she’d die rather than hurt Alex. Besides, Colton was Alex’s son.
At least, it was possible that Colton was his son. If she’d been late before she got pregnant.
Alex was in the delivery room when Colton was born. He’d been the one to bring her home, care for them both, support them both. He was home every night, helping with baths, watching Susan feed their baby, planning for his future.
Alex was Colton’s father. His name was on the birth certificate.
Valerie asked a couple of pointed questions. And then rang off, telling Susan not to worry. The jerk didn’t have a leg to stand on and Valerie was going to knock it out from under him, anyway.
Arms wrapped around herself, Susan left the phone on the floor and let all the tears fall.
She’d hoped the pain was behind her.
And was beginning to believe it would never be.
HER AFTERNOON CALENDAR behind her, Valerie picked up the phone to make a couple of calls on behalf of Susan Douglas, but it rang before she could punch in a number.
“Hello?”
“Mom, it’s Blake.”
“Hi, Blake!” Valerie’s heart jumped. “Tryouts over so soon?”
Sitting