Unexpected Son Read online

  “I don’t want to talk about the fire, Michael. I want to talk about you.”

  His head came up. The sun was above the horizon now. His features were resolving themselves into a whole. Her eyes hadn’t played tricks on her before. He was a good-looking man. As Jeff was. As Ronald had been. “What do you want to know?”

  Alyssa laughed a little nervously and shook her head. “Nothing.” She lifted her hand. “Everything. How old are you?”

  “I’ll be thirty on my next birthday.”

  “When were you born?”

  “May eighteenth.”

  “You’re fifteen months younger than Liza, then.”

  “I wouldn’t know. My mother didn’t know anything about your family.” He wiped his hands on a red shop rag. “At least she never told me anything about any of you. I never knew who my father was until long after she died.”

  “How old were you when that happened?”

  “Thirteen.” A fleeting look of sorrow passed over his features, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

  “Who was your mother, Michael?” Alyssa found she could disassociate herself from the worst of the pain her questions invoked. Ronald’s betrayal was so long in the past. She was happy now, happier than she had ever been, despite the fire and her worries about the F and M’s future. The love she’d found with Edward Wocheck had made her strong.

  “Her name was Ellen Kenton.”

  “Kenton? Of course. But I don’t recall ever knowing anyone by that name.”

  “You wouldn’t have known her. She was from Milwaukee. She never came to Tyler that I’m aware of.”

  “Then how did my husband meet her?”

  “She lived with a family on Willow Lake the summer before I was born. My grandmother told me that’s where she met my father. The family’s name was Selton.”

  Alyssa sucked in her breath. Willow Lake was a summer resort town only a few miles from Tyler. “Marjorie and Harrison Selton. Yes, I remember them. Mr. Selton was a commodities trader. My husband...your father was in the grain business. He owned the Tyler Cooperative Elevator. But I don’t...I don’t remember ever seeing your mother.”

  “I doubt she was invited to cocktail parties or country-club dances much.”

  Alyssa took no offense at the words, although it saddened her to recall those wasted years. Her world had revolved around such affairs at that time. She had thought that was what Ronald wanted of her. But, obviously, it had not been enough. “No, of course, you’re right. Still, when one’s husband has an affair with a woman...” She lifted her eyes to his. “No,” she whispered, suddenly sickened by the thought. “She wasn’t a woman, was she? Not really. How old was your mother when you were born?”

  “Just eighteen.”

  Alyssa was suddenly very cold. She pulled the collar of her coat tight around her throat. Oh Ronald, how could you have done such a thing to her? To me? To our children? “So, she was seventeen when my husband seduced her.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.” How could she explain this news to Jeff? He had worshiped Ronald Baron. He was convinced that Michael’s mother had been a mature woman on the make who had seduced his father. It would be hard to make him believe otherwise.

  This time Michael waved off her words. “It’s not your fault.”

  “Did you come to Tyler to find out about your father?”

  “I don’t know why I came and that’s the truth.”

  “Did you know that Ronald was dead? That he killed himself?” She spoke gently. She couldn’t bring herself to harden her heart toward this man. He was even more a victim of Ronald’s weaknesses than she and her children. She had liked Michael Kenton from their first meeting. She felt no different now.

  “My grandmother knew. I found the newspaper clippings in her things after she died last spring.”

  “Do you have any other family?”

  “No.”

  “You said your mother died when you were thirteen.” That would have been shortly after Ronald took his life. Alyssa hoped there wasn’t a connection, but she was afraid there might be. “How did she die?”

  “She took an overdose of cocaine. As close as I can figure it was about three weeks after your husband shot himself.”

  “I am sorry. I know what it’s like to lose your mother when you’re young.” She took a step forward before she could stop herself, her heart touched by his loneliness, his aloneness. But while she ached for him, she sensed he would not welcome her touch. And if the truth were told, her own emotions were still too chaotic, too confused for her to reach out to him just yet.

  “I know,” he said gruffly. “I’ve read about what happened to your mother in the Tyler Citizen.”

  “Yes.” Most of the time Alyssa could put those memories out of mind, but not always. “It was a long time to believe that she had deserted me. That she didn’t love me. I’m glad I was able to finally learn the truth about why she left me and my father alone.”

  Michael nodded again. He threw the rag he’d been holding into the toolbox and shut the lid. “I’ll sweep up now.”

  “You have another job you’re going to today?”

  He gave her a tight smile. “Since the fire, most people have decided the work they wanted done can wait until after Christmas. I figure they think I’ll be gone by then. Or in jail.”

  “Oh,” Alyssa said, refusing to rise to the bait. “I see.”

  “It might be better if I’m out of here before traffic picks up and people see my truck out on the street in front of the house.”

  “Yes,” Alyssa said with a twist of her lips that she knew missed being a smile. “I don’t think my son would understand our talking this way.”

  “I don’t think your husband would much appreciate seeing me here, either.”

  “Edward wants what’s best for me, but he’s a fair man. When he hears your story—”

  “You believe what I’ve told you?”

  She blinked in surprise. “Of course,” she said. “Ronald Baron was my husband. I suspected for a long time...” She swallowed hard to keep tears from choking her voice. “He hurt me as much as he hurt you.”

  “What was he—”

  “Lyssa? Lyssa, are you out here?”

  The barn door opened again. Michael Kenton shut his mouth with a snap. Alyssa sensed he had been going to ask her about Ronald, and she almost welcomed the interruption her father’s entrance offered, even though it meant she must now tell him who Michael was. She didn’t know what she would have said about Ronald. She wasn’t sure she was ready to stir up all those old feelings again.

  “I’m here, Dad.”

  Michael Kenton straightened, his eyes going to the figure approaching them. Alyssa tried to see her father with a stranger’s eyes. Still straight and unstooped, although he would soon be eighty-three years old, Judson Ingalls was a tall man with a full head of white hair and alert, blue eyes.

  “What are you doing out here on this damnable cold morning?”

  Judson blinked in the bright sunlight coming through the dusty windows that Michael had never gotten around to replacing. “My blood’s gotten thin out there in Arizona. I’m almost frozen to death just walking out here from the house.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of the disreputable old cardigan he always kept hanging by the kitchen door.

  “I didn’t think you’d be awake this early, Dad,” Alyssa said, smiling past the tight constriction in her chest.

  “I never could sleep once the sun was up, no matter what damned time zone I’m in. Who’s this young man?” Judson asked, cocking his head to give Michael the once-over.

  Alyssa took a deep breath. “This is Michael Kenton,” she said, reaching out to wrap her cold hands around her father’s arm. “He’s new to Tyler and he’s...he’s Ron
ald’s son.”

  * * *

  THE SUN, BLOODRED and without heat, was beginning to dip low on the horizon. A cloud bank was moving in from the west, bringing the smell of snow with the cold wind that blew before it. Funny. He’d only been here about a month. He’d never spent a winter this far north in his entire life, but he could smell the snow, icy and metallic, just as Sarah had told him he would if he put his mind to it.

  God, it hurt even to think about her. Michael stood on the bluff overlooking Timber Lake and watched a small flock of Canada geese settle for the night in the open water at the center, honking a greeting for those of their company still airborne overhead. The weather was supposed to turn cold again, and in another day or two the lake would be frozen solid, the geese forced to move south into Illinois and Kentucky to find food and shelter.

  Without quite knowing why, he picked his way down the steep slope to the path at the water’s edge. To his right was the fancy wrought-iron gate that marked the entrance to the grounds of Timberlake Lodge. To his left, around a bend, was the boathouse where Liza Forrester lived, but the pathway where he now stood was deserted. He’d been at Timberlake to pick up the check Devon Addison had left there for his work on the Bentley. He’d timed his arrival carefully, just before the business office closed, when he figured there would be little chance of his meeting up with Edward Wocheck or his stepson. He’d been lucky, and neither of them appeared in the few minutes he was there.

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat and turned up the collar. Grabbing a pair of gloves when he got out of the truck wasn’t second nature to him yet. Neither was wearing a hat. He was cold and tired, but the sights and sounds of the winter countryside spread out before him were too tempting to ignore.

  He stared out over the water, his gaze drawn to the low hills on the far side. Beyond that rise lay Willow Lake. He wondered if there was anyone there who might remember his mother. Probably not. Like Alyssa, who would remember a young city girl brought along as a live-in baby-sitter? And he doubted Ronald Baron had been indiscreet enough to single his mother out in public. No one would remember her there. She had passed through life making barely a ripple, important to no one but him and his grandmother.

  “Hey. Hi. I know you.”

  Michael looked up in surprise. He hadn’t heard her approach, the small, blond-haired girl who was Liza Forrester’s daughter, his niece.

  “Hello, Margaret Alyssa.” She was wearing a bright pink coat, zipped about halfway up, and a funny little hat with a tassel bobbing on top, pulled down so low on her forehead it hid her eyebrows. She wasn’t wearing boots or gloves, and Michael had the distinct impression the child wasn’t supposed to be where she was.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Are you coming to my house to build something? It’s almost dark. Too late for work. My mom’s fixing supper and my dad’s trying to get her car started. It’s broken and the man who’s supposed to fix it...” She poked her finger at him. “Hey, is that you?”

  “I guess it is.”

  “Well, you’re late and my dad’s plenty mad. He doesn’t like to work on my mom’s car. He says it’s a pickle.”

  “A pickle?”

  “Or a relish.”

  “A relic?”

  “Or something.” She shrugged. “He told me to go inside and let him work...” She realized she’d said too much. She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not supposed to be here, I bet. This is my special place to feed the geese and you aren’t supposed to leave town. I heard my mommy tell my daddy that’s what Uncle Brick said. He’s the police,” she added, puffing out her cheeks proudly. “I’m his helper.”

  “I should have guessed that from the third degree you’re giving me.” Michael dropped to a crouch. “What are you doing out here by yourself, Margaret Alyssa?”

  A crafty look came into her eyes. “I’m allowed,” she said too forcefully. “I’m four and I’m allowed.” She stuck her hands in her pockets. “I came to feed the geese.” She pulled out a handful of cracked corn. “See? They’re hungry. There’s nothing left for them to eat. I always feed them here, but now there’s ice and they can’t come close to me.” She eyed the lake with a determined look.

  Michael had no idea how deep the water was at the lake’s edge, a few inches or many feet, but it didn’t matter. The ice that rimmed the lake didn’t look thick enough to support the weight of even a small child, and regardless of Margaret Alyssa’s insistence that she “was allowed,” he had no intention of letting her test its strength.

  “Why don’t you just sprinkle the corn here on the path? The geese will find it in the morning.” There was ample evidence all around them that the geese used the pathway, just as humans did.

  “It’s going to snow tonight. My dad said so. It will cover up the corn. I need to get it far out there so they can find it now.” She took a step toward the water’s edge.

  “Wait,” Michael said. “I’ll do it.”

  “Can you get it out there?”

  “Sure,” he said. “I used to play baseball in school.” Basketball, too. He’d been pretty good at both sports. It was the only reason he’d stayed in high school and made any attempt to keep up his grades. “Here, give me the corn.”

  “Well...” The four-year-old considered his suggestion, her eyes downcast. “Okay, I guess.” She opened her hand into his, smiling into his eyes. “I suppose you can throw farther than me. But just because you’re bigger. Not because you’re a boy and I’m a girl. My mom says girls can do anything boys can do.”

  “Margaret Alyssa! Maggie! Where are you? Answer me!” Liza Forrester’s voice was shrill with concern. Michael could hear her running along the frozen path before he saw her. He stood up.

  “She’s over here, Mrs. Forrester,” he called, so that his sister wouldn’t be alarmed when she saw him with the child.

  “Margaret Alyssa! Thank God.” Liza skidded to a halt, her turquoise coat flapping open over a bright red sweater and slacks, a brilliant purple scarf looped around her neck. She pressed a hand over her stomach while she caught her breath. Her nose and cheeks were pink from the cold, her face pinched from worry. “Oh,” she said, looking surprised to see him. “It’s you.”

  “I stopped by the lodge to get my paycheck,” Michael explained. “I walked down here to admire the view. Margaret Alyssa came along a few minutes later. She told me she wants to feed the geese.” He opened his hand to show Liza the corn.

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” Liza said, relief flooding her face as she stooped to gather her daughter into her arms. She gave the child a little shake, causing her own yellow sunburst earrings to dance below her ears, then hugged her daughter tight again. “Margaret Alyssa Forrester, how many times have I told you not to come down to the lake by yourself? You scared Mommy nearly out of her wits. I think you are going to have to spend a lot of time in the ‘time out’ chair for this.”

  “But my favorite TV show is on tonight,” Margaret Alyssa wailed. “I have to see ‘Unsolved Mysteries.’ I have to.”

  “No, you don’t. If you miss your program, maybe you’ll remember next time not to come down to the water by yourself. It’s too dangerous. What if you fell in?”

  “But I can swim. You and Grandma Lyssa taught me how, remember?”

  “But the water is ice-cold now. Your arms and legs would get stiff right away. You might drown and Mommy would be sad for the rest of her life.”

  “I didn’t think about that,” Margaret Alyssa said, hanging her head. “But I can swim real good.”

  “Your mother’s right,” Michael added. It was apparent the child still felt she had been in no danger. “If something happened to you, your mommy would think it was her fault and be sad forever.” He shut his mouth with a snap. Who in hell was he to be teaching life lessons to someone else’s child? Then it hit him again
, like a blow between the shoulder blades. This wasn’t just any child. This was his niece, his blood.

  “Would you, Mommy?”

  “Yes, pumpkin. I’d be sad forever without you.”

  “Would you be too sad to want to have another little baby?”

  Liza’s color deepened slightly. She glanced at Michael and shrugged. “Yes,” she said. “I think I would be too sad to have another baby.”

  “Then I’ll be good,” Margaret Alyssa said with a dazzling smile. “I want a baby brother or sister and you promised me you would try and get one real soon.”

  Liza rose, with Margaret Alyssa in her arms. “Thank you, Michael,” she said simply. “You might have saved her life.”

  “Throw the corn,” Margaret Alyssa demanded, saving him from a reply. “Throw the corn. It’s getting dark. The geese won’t be able to see it if you don’t throw it now.”

  “Okay,” Michael said, winding up. “Here goes.” He gave it all he had and was relieved to see the corn sail far enough out toward the open water to satisfy even Margaret Alyssa’s exacting standards. “How’s that?”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Just okay?” Liza asked with a trilling laugh. She wasn’t looking at her daughter, however. She was watching him.

  “Really okay. Can he come home to eat dinner with us?” she asked unexpectedly. Or perhaps not so unexpectedly, Michael decided. He was fast losing all his preconceptions, few as they might be, of how a four-year-old should act and talk.

  “Would you like that, Michael?”

  He shook his head. “I’m surprised you’d ask.”

  Liza laughed again, shifting Margaret Alyssa in her arms. “I admit Jeff’s news set me on my ear. But you shouldn’t be surprised I’d ask. I’m the black sheep of the family.” She tilted her head, her smile growing a little wider. “Only now I guess there are two of us, Brother. And besides, I want you to look at the T-bird. It definitely needs work. And Cliff, sweetheart that he is, is no mechanic.”