AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Right now all the units are occupied except for the third floor that J.D.’s using as his office. I’ll start advertising the space as soon as we move. Uh-oh. Chrissie! Watch out!” Tiffany raced across the backyard. Her daughter had tripped and tumbled over an exposed root. For a second there was no noise as Christina’s tiny face screwed up and turned a deep shade of purple. The scream was next, a pained wail loud enough to cause the boys to give up their game.
Tiffany scooped Christina up off the ground. “It’s okay,” she said, brushing bark dust from the little girl’s tangled black curls.
Tears streamed down Christina’s cheeks, and she cried, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” over and over again.
“I think it’s time for us to leave,” Katie said. “Josh! Let’s go.”
“Oh, Mom, can’t I stay a little longer?”
Christina was sobbing and gulping air now.
“Nope, it’s time.”
“But—”
“Hop in the car, bud. Now!” Josh cast her an I-can’t-believe-you’re-so-unfair look, but she ignored it and turned back to Tiffany who was brushing aside Christina’s tears with a finger. “Thanks for the offer. I’ll talk to Josh and give you a call.”
“Good.”
The back door of the house burst open, then slammed against the side of the house. J.D. hurtled down the steps. His face was a mask of concern, and his eyes focused hard on Christina. “What happened?” he demanded, sprinting across the backyard with long, athletic strides. At the sight of J.D., the child brightened visibly.
“A minor catastrophe.” Tiffany was holding her daughter close, and Christina, who had been quieting down, started crying hysterically again.
“Is that right? Looks pretty major to me. Come here, dumpling,” he said, prying Christina from her mother’s arms. “Let’s make sure you’re gonna live.”
Christina’s tears stopped, and she offered J.D. an impish smile that made Katie think her injuries weren’t quite as painful as she’d let on. But then, she was only three.
“I’ll see you later,” Katie said as Josh climbed into the passenger seat. She waved to the small family as she climbed behind the steering wheel. She tried to start her car. The ignition ground, and she pumped the gas before the convertible coughed twice, then sputtered. She swore under her breath and said a quick little prayer. Again she twisted the ignition. With a sound like the crack of a rifle, a spurt of blue smoke shot out of the tailpipe, and the engine caught. “Good girl.” Katie patted the dash. At least the darned thing was running. She only hoped that the temperamental car wouldn’t die as she backed out of the drive.
“Can we stop and get a hamburger?” Josh asked. He adjusted his seat belt and leaned his seat into a half-reclining position.
“I suppose. I was planning pasta salad for dinner but—” she glanced his way and saw the expression of distaste on his oversize features “—I guess a bacon cheeseburger and a basket of curly fries sounds better.”
“And a milk shake.”
“Chocolate.”
“Good deal, Mom.” Josh gave her a thumbs-up. “I hate pasta salad.”
“I know,” she said and swallowed a smile as she reached over to rumple his stick-straight hair. Right now, staring out the bug-spattered window, he reminded her of his father; a man she hadn’t seen in eleven years, a man who probably still didn’t know he had a child. Her hands started to sweat against the wheel. For years she’d told herself that Dave didn’t need to know he had a son, that he’d run out on her and left her pregnant without a backward glance, that he didn’t deserve Josh’s attention.
Lately, however, seeing all the mistrust and damage that had occurred because of her own father’s lies, she doubted the wisdom of a hasty, emotional decision made when she was a scared, pregnant teenager. Wouldn’t it be better for Josh to know his dad? To understand where he’d come from?
Wouldn’t she, as a teenager growing up, have given her right arm for the truth? She owed that much to her son.
CHAPTER TWO
“I hate to say it, Katie, but what you need is a man.” Jarrod Smith, Katie Kinkaid’s oldest half brother, slammed down the hood
of her old convertible and swiped at a mosquito that had hovered near his head. The minute she’d arrived home after dropping Josh at soccer practice, she’d called her brother to check under the hood. But she hadn’t wanted or needed his advice on the sad state of her love life.
“I think what I need might be a new car.” Katie frowned at her ancient two-door—a gem in its day—and wondered how she could possibly afford the payments on a newer model. Her gaze traveled from the single-car garage to her little bungalow, the place she and her son had called home for nearly a decade. Two windowpanes were cracked, the dryer was temperamental, and the carpet should have been replaced years before. No, she couldn’t swing buying a new car right now.
“This—” Jarrod thumped a greasy finger on the faded finish of her convertible “—is the least of your worries.” Wiping the oil from his hands on to a soiled rag, he shook his head. Sweat dampened his brown hair and slid down the side of his face. “You’ve got Josh and—”
“And I don’t need a lecture. Least of all from you,” she said, irritated that the subject of her being a single parent was a matter for discussion. Just because their mother had married for the fifth time this summer and her two half sisters were planning to “do the aisle-walk thing,” as the media now called it, didn’t mean that she needed to hook up with a man. Independent to a fault, she supposed people thought her, but she couldn’t imagine being tied down to one man. Not that she didn’t have a fantasy now and again. Raising a boy alone was no picnic, but she wasn’t sure a husband and stepfather would help the situation. In fact, she was certain it would do more damage than good. “No one ever needs a man, Jarrod,” she said, leveling a gaze at him that she hoped would burn into his hard-edged heart. “Least of all me.”
“I’m just telling you that it wouldn’t hurt.” He glanced around the backyard where a rusted basketball hoop hung at an odd angle from the garage and the dandelions battled it out with the crabgrass for control of the lawn. Weeds choked the flower beds, and the patio furniture needed to be treated for a severe case of rust. Yep, the whole place needed a makeover—and badly. Even her old hound dog, Blue, who was lying in the shade of the porch, one silvering ear cocked though his eyes were closed, could probably use a flea bath, a teeth cleaning and a “buff and puff” from Elsie, the local dog groomer.
