Rachel Laine (The Women of Merryton Book 3) (28 page)

I’m
not sure my head ever whipped around so fast. “How do you know about sex?” I hadn’t
known I needed to have this talk with him yet. Apparently, I was naïve.

“My
friend at school told me if you want to make a baby, you have to have sex.”

“What
else did he tell you?”

“That
sex is bad.”

“Sex
isn’t bad, but we’ll talk more about that later.” After I’m done having my
nervous breakdown.

“Do
we have to?”

I
nodded.

Drew
turned his attention back to Andrew and asked his most poignant question yet. Thankfully
it had nothing to do with sex, but it broke my heart, and if I had to guess,
Andrew’s too. “So, if you made me, how come you didn’t want me?”

Andrew
pulled Drew to him for a bear hug. “I want you more than anything. I didn’t
know about you until last year when I met your mom.”

“Are
you really my dad?”

“Yes.
I love you, son.”

Deep
breaths.

I
needed lots of deep breaths these days. My worst fears hit me straight on.
Well, not the worst one. Andrew swore he wouldn’t sue for custody; he wasn’t
even calling for a paternity test. He claimed Drew, and that was enough for
him. I did agree to have him placed on Drew’s birth certificate, but that was
the least of my worries. Here’s a life lesson: never sleep with someone famous,
and especially never have a child with them. More importantly, if you do, don’t
blackmail them and leave them notes with your sister’s name and location on
them. And don’t ever, and I mean
ever
, allow yourself to fall for them. If
you thought Merryton loved to be in everyone’s business, it had nothing on the
Denver media.

But
the chaos was caused by Merryton, or at least a resident of Merryton. Veronica
Riley thought it would be a good idea to tip off the press. The press hadn’t known
why Andrew dropped out—there was only speculation—but the wicked witch who
loved the color green thought she needed some of the limelight.

Drew’s
first day back to school the following week, I got a call from his principal
telling me they had a situation. I had already had several calls that day from
different media outlets, all asking for an interview. “No comment,” was my
reply before hanging up each time. I ran out of the office to find I had a
situation as well. I had two news vans in my parking lot. As soon as I came out,
I had cameras flashing in my face, and a man and woman running up to me with
microphones in hand throwing questions at me.

“How
long have you known that Andrew Turner was your son’s father?”

“Is
it true your sister died in childbirth?”

“How
do you feel about Rex Jones alleging that he could be your son’s father?”

I
ignored them as I hurried to my car, until that last one. I made the mistake of
stopping and looking at the bloodhounds. They knew their question got to me,
and they went into a feeding frenzy. I didn’t even know who Rex Jones was. My
shock and dazed look only made them snarl with delight. They were happy to
inform me.

“Rex
Jones, former Bears player and teammate of Andrew Turner, claims that he was
the one in a relationship with your sister, and that Andrew is lying about
paternity.”

I
was ill, like physically ill. Nausea almost consumed me. How I stumbled into my
car, I don’t remember, but I wasn’t concerned about running any of them over as
I backed out of my parking space. All the way over to Drew’s school, I kept
telling myself Andrew was Drew’s father. As weird as it sounded, I needed to
believe that. I wanted Andrew to be his dad. Andrew loved Drew, and Andrew had
promised no legal involvement. All the while, though, I blasted both him and
Sydney in my head. Why couldn’t Andrew have listened to me and not run for
office or at least waited? In reality, I only had myself to blame; I shouldn’t
have let fear rule me. I shouldn’t have fallen for a pair of amber eyes.

The
nightmare continued when I arrived at Drew’s school to see several more media
outlets across the street from the elementary school.
Who thinks that’s
okay?
When they noticed me, they rushed my car. I could barely understand
them, but of course I picked out the most horrid of all the questions. “Is it
true your sister was addicted to drugs? Has that affected your son’s health in
anyway?”

Where
the heck did that one come from? Of all Sydney’s issues, drugs was never one of
them. At least not that I knew of. She was clean when she ended up on my
doorstep. I don’t even think she drank while she was pregnant with Drew. She
may not have received prenatal care like she should have, but carrying Drew
seemed to ignite some sense of responsibility in her. At least enough for her
not to harm her unborn child.

I
hoped Veronica Riley slipped in her nine-inch heels and broke her neck. Was she
really this jealous of my sister after all these years? Sydney’s and Landon’s
fling was before they were married. And it’s not like he hadn’t had any flings after
they got married.

By
the time I got through the mess and parked, I needed a paper bag to breathe
into. Andrew wasn’t kidding when he said this could get ugly. This was
downright monstrous. At least the vultures weren’t allowed on school property.

When
I walked up to the school’s entrance, I lost it. Several staff members,
including Eric Kessler, had come out to usher me in. Their kindness was my
undoing. The tears that had been on the cusp of falling made their journey down
my cheeks. I was promptly handed several tissues. I took them each with a smile
of thank you.

“Sam’s
on his way,” Principal Mack informed me.

Sam
Patrick was the sheriff, my first high school flame lost to Sydney, and now my friend.
He was a senior when we were sophomores. We only dated a couple of months, but
I’d had the biggest crush on him since junior high. Now he was married with
three beautiful children. Once in a while we would have a laugh about the good
ole days. Or he would apologize for being such a bonehead. It all worked out.
His wife Charity was the cutest thing ever, and we were much better at being
friends. And I had my life, which I was satisfied with until one Andrew Turner
upended it and made me want more. Look what that brought.

I
nodded. Calling Sam was a good idea. I should have thought of it. “Thank you,”
I mumbled.

I
sat in Principal Mack’s office feeling like I really was in trouble, but this
was way worse than any detention. Not like I ever got detention. That was
Sydney’s favorite pastime.

“How
are you holding up?” Jen Mack handed me another tissue from her desk.

“I’m
fine,” I lied. “Does Drew know about the media outside?”

“No.
We’re having indoor recess for all classes today.”

“I’m
so sorry. I didn’t know this would create such a stir.”

“Don’t
apologize. It’s not your fault people have an unhealthy appetite for what’s
none of their business.”

That
may be true, but why did I feel like this was my fault?

Sam
was there before we knew it. He walked in looking like he was ready to fight.
Besides being a large man, he had a presence that said he meant business. If
you knew him well enough, you would know that wasn’t the case. He was really a
teddy bear on the inside. Not that you wanted to get on his bad side, which I
think was the case for the unwanted visitors.

“There’s
not much under the arm of law I can do to remove them, but we’ll take care of
them, don’t you worry.” He seemed excited about the prospect. For a moment, I
saw the boy Sam that had hoisted an outhouse onto the school roof. Who knew he
would ever become the sheriff?

“Thanks.”
I sniffled.

“I
sent one of my deputies to check out your place, and it didn’t look much better
out there.”

That
more than anything made me feel violated. The tears started back up.

“Now
don’t you worry your pretty little head. Your road is privately owned, so we
issued a few citations.” His grin showed the pleasure that gave him.

I
gave a small smile in return.

“I’m
going to have someone patrol your road and the county road leading into it
until this dies down.”

“Thank
you.”

“Who
knew our quiet little Rachel could cause such a ruckus? Now, Sydney, on the
other hand...” I always detected a hint of guilt whenever he mentioned her name
around me.

“Sydney
is partially to blame.”

“I
suppose she is. Who knew she had famous friends?”

Certainly
not me. “Thanks, Sam. I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

“Are
you kidding? I love to show these city slickers a thing or two. Besides, it
beats writing traffic tickets.”

I
sniffled a little.

“I’m
going to follow you home.”

“I
don’t want Drew to think anything is wrong. I especially don’t want him to
think Andrew being his dad is a bad thing.”

“Hmm.”
Sam thought for a moment. “How about I let him ride in the backseat of my
patrol car and we follow you home with the lights on? I’ll talk to him about
what it’s like to be a police officer.”

“He
would love that. Thank you.” The never-ending tears started up again.

“Now
don’t go crying. My wife will get after me.” He touched my shoulder. “It’s
going to be all right.”

“Thanks,
Sam.”

As
predicted, Drew thought going home in a police cruiser was the coolest thing
ever, well almost. Andrew took that cake. Drew couldn’t have been happier that
Andrew was his dad. At least I was almost positive Andrew was his dad. What if
this Rex guy was?

Andrew
was dealing with his own barrage of negative press and had been keeping a low
profile. News crews were crawling over his estate in Highlands Ranch. Each news
cast ruthlessly debated his decision and the harm he had done to his party and
his own political aspirations. Not to mention questioning his integrity and
motives. At least no one knew about the letter, or how he found out Drew was
his. All the press knew was that it was a recent revelation.

Andrew
was right, they interviewed old teammates and anyone willing to dish on him,
former girlfriends included. Only one of those had taken the bait, and I knew
she was a liar. She bragged that they had been together this past Christmas
holed up in her cabin in Aspen. She was clearly not over him, but that didn’t
stop her from telling the sleazeball reporter that she wasn’t surprised that
Andrew fathered a child. “It was bound to happen, considering how many women he
bedded over his career,” she crooned.

I
would have quit watching the news altogether, but it was better to know what I
was facing head on. Maybe. I was losing a lot of sleep over it, and my anger
and sympathy for Andrew only grew because of it.

“Mom,
can I call Andrew, I mean Dad? I want to tell him that I got to ride in a cop
car.”

“Sure.”
I handed him my phone. “What do you want for dinner?” I couldn’t think anymore.

“Tacos.”

I
could do that, I thought. I felt like I was shutting down, but I couldn’t. I
had Drew and a business. People depended on me. But not only was I dealing with
a mad house, I was dealing with it on top of a broken heart.

I
listened to Drew talk to his dad while I made dinner. The smell was getting to
me. I still felt sick to my stomach over the day’s events. I couldn’t believe
the chaos, and that I had to have police protection, in a manner of speaking.
Words could not express my gratitude to Sam and this town of ours, minus the
Rileys.

“There
were all sorts of people with cameras outside my school taking pictures. And
Mom has been crying a lot. She told me not to talk to any strangers.”

I
knew it was only natural for him to tell Andrew these things, but it meant the
phone got handed over to me.

“Dad
wants to talk to you.”

I
took the phone. “I’ll finish dinner in a minute. I’m going to talk to your dad
in my room.”

He
shrugged and turned back to his homework.

“Hello.”

“Sounds
like you’ve had a tough day.”

“You
could say that.”

“I’m
sorry. I’ll have my lawyers deal with the press, and I’ll hire security for
both of you in the interim.”

“I’ve
got it handled. The police here are taking care of us.”

“Will
you please let me take care of this?”

“I
think you’ve done enough, thanks.”

“Rachel—”

“I
don’t need you. I don’t need people asking me if my sister was a drug addict or
if some guy named Rex is Drew’s father, or how I feel that you may have
fathered several more children. I don’t need any of this.” I sat against my bed
and bawled over the phone.

He
waited until my crying had turned into shudders. “Honey,” he said with
hesitation. He had no right to call me that. “You know Rex isn’t his father.
He’s the same idiot I told you about who Sydney was seeing. He’s run out of
money, and he was probably paid for the interview. And you know where I was on
Christmas. Please tell me you don’t believe that woman.”

I
stayed silent. I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“I
wish we could go back to Christmas, back to you in my arms.”

“Just
be a good father to Drew.” I couldn’t think about Christmas, or him.

“I
plan on it.”

“That’s
all that matters now.”