Fathers and Sons (Harlequin Super Romance) by Carolyn McSparren
Authors: Carolyn McSparren
Ads: Link
in the trunk that they could spread out. Maybe he drove a truck and carried his tire iron in the back seat. Maybe it wasn’t a tire iron—that was only that funeral director-cum-coroner’s best guess. We’ll know more when we get the results of the autopsy in Memphis. Those guys have a national reputation. If there’s anything to discover, they’ll find it.”
“Meantime, we’re looking at a possible indictment just after Christmas. Some Christmas.” He slowed for an intersection and waited while a big cotton picker trundled through.
Kate watched it, fascinated by the bits of cotton that blew in its wake like snow flurries. “Everything in our lives always seems to happen around Christmas, doesn’t it?” Kate said.
He took his hand off the wheel and dropped it on Kate’s thigh. “I’ll never forget how beautiful you looked with the holly wound through your hair that Christmas Eve we got married. Like a Druid priestess.”
Kate removed his hand and said dryly, “Actually, it’s the following year I remember so well. ‘Now, Kate, for your first Christmas as a married woman, and for your first anniversary present, here you go—a cheating, lying husband.”
“It wasn’t like that.” He pulled around a pickup and ignored the wild barking of the pair of Australian sheepdogs that occupied its bed.
“Oh, really? You actually didn’t cheat?” Kate said as soon as she thought her voice could be heard above the yapping.
“I didn’t lie to you.”
“You didn’t run home and confess you’d committed adultery either.”
“When you asked flat out if I’d been unfaithful, I admitted it.” He swiveled his head to look at her. “You never considered forgiving me, did you? Not for a minute.”
“I warned you before we were married that adultery was an unforgivable sin in my book. I might even have been able to deal with it if you’d picked some little actress you met at an audition—a one-night stand with a stranger.” She stared out the window. Along the sides of the road bits of cotton were caught in the weeds. “But you had to pick the one woman in the world I knew I could never replace.”
“You didn’t replace anyone. You were my wife. I didn’t ask Melba to marry me, I asked you.”
“And discovered what a bad bargain you’d made. So you went back to plan A. Did you intend to tell me eventually, or were you simply going to continue the liaison whenever she could get away to New York?”
“I never expected to see her again. It was damn near a one-night stand.”
“And the worst Christmas of my life.” She turned to him. “Before that year, I always loved Christmas. Even my father stuck around on Christmas. We acted like a real, normal family. The campus was always decorated, and we had an enormous tree—you remember, when you came down to many me. There were carols in the chapel, and parties with wassail and carolers in costume in the faculty quadrangle. It was the happiest time of the year. Until that Christmas in New York. Since then I’ve never trusted it. If you can’t trust Christmas, what can you trust?”
David drove through a stand of pine trees and pulled into a gravel turnaround in front of a small house that looked as though it belonged on a cliff in Big Sur—all peaked roofs and glass. Beside the front door sat an aged red pickup seemingly held together by the patches of rust and mud that covered it. David climbed out. “Come on in. I’ll get you my spare set of keys.”
“This is your house?” Kate said as she followed him up the front steps. “It doesn’t have quite that old plantation look that I would have expected from Melba.”
“That’s because I didn’t build it until a couple of years ago. We lived with Dub until Melba died. Jason refused to move when I did. I decided not to force him out of the only home he’d ever known. I knew he’d be leaving for college soon anyway. He’d had enough upset. He took his mother’s death hard.”
“But
“Meantime, we’re looking at a possible indictment just after Christmas. Some Christmas.” He slowed for an intersection and waited while a big cotton picker trundled through.
Kate watched it, fascinated by the bits of cotton that blew in its wake like snow flurries. “Everything in our lives always seems to happen around Christmas, doesn’t it?” Kate said.
He took his hand off the wheel and dropped it on Kate’s thigh. “I’ll never forget how beautiful you looked with the holly wound through your hair that Christmas Eve we got married. Like a Druid priestess.”
Kate removed his hand and said dryly, “Actually, it’s the following year I remember so well. ‘Now, Kate, for your first Christmas as a married woman, and for your first anniversary present, here you go—a cheating, lying husband.”
“It wasn’t like that.” He pulled around a pickup and ignored the wild barking of the pair of Australian sheepdogs that occupied its bed.
“Oh, really? You actually didn’t cheat?” Kate said as soon as she thought her voice could be heard above the yapping.
“I didn’t lie to you.”
“You didn’t run home and confess you’d committed adultery either.”
“When you asked flat out if I’d been unfaithful, I admitted it.” He swiveled his head to look at her. “You never considered forgiving me, did you? Not for a minute.”
“I warned you before we were married that adultery was an unforgivable sin in my book. I might even have been able to deal with it if you’d picked some little actress you met at an audition—a one-night stand with a stranger.” She stared out the window. Along the sides of the road bits of cotton were caught in the weeds. “But you had to pick the one woman in the world I knew I could never replace.”
“You didn’t replace anyone. You were my wife. I didn’t ask Melba to marry me, I asked you.”
“And discovered what a bad bargain you’d made. So you went back to plan A. Did you intend to tell me eventually, or were you simply going to continue the liaison whenever she could get away to New York?”
“I never expected to see her again. It was damn near a one-night stand.”
“And the worst Christmas of my life.” She turned to him. “Before that year, I always loved Christmas. Even my father stuck around on Christmas. We acted like a real, normal family. The campus was always decorated, and we had an enormous tree—you remember, when you came down to many me. There were carols in the chapel, and parties with wassail and carolers in costume in the faculty quadrangle. It was the happiest time of the year. Until that Christmas in New York. Since then I’ve never trusted it. If you can’t trust Christmas, what can you trust?”
David drove through a stand of pine trees and pulled into a gravel turnaround in front of a small house that looked as though it belonged on a cliff in Big Sur—all peaked roofs and glass. Beside the front door sat an aged red pickup seemingly held together by the patches of rust and mud that covered it. David climbed out. “Come on in. I’ll get you my spare set of keys.”
“This is your house?” Kate said as she followed him up the front steps. “It doesn’t have quite that old plantation look that I would have expected from Melba.”
“That’s because I didn’t build it until a couple of years ago. We lived with Dub until Melba died. Jason refused to move when I did. I decided not to force him out of the only home he’d ever known. I knew he’d be leaving for college soon anyway. He’d had enough upset. He took his mother’s death hard.”
“But
Similar Books
