Found: A Mother for His Son Page 2

  No! He wouldn’t let Max near that kind of pain. That’s all there was to it. Being pragmatic about it, if he could be pragmatic about anything to do with Jenna, he would have to maintain a certain distance from her.

  Of course, hadn’t he vowed that once before?

  Shutting his eyes, not sure whether to kick himself over his rash decision or give himself a congratulatory pat on the back, Dermott conjured up an image of the woman who had once come so close to being the love of his life. Honey blonde, shoulder-length hair, green eyes, a figure that made a man look twice or, in his case, a lot more than twice…

  For his office she was the perfect choice, but in his life? Sure, he could tell himself that he just couldn’t resist being around her again after so many years because, in part, that was the truth. Jenna was like unfinished business in a way. They’d been intense. Fast. So close to falling in love. Then nothing. The energy had been so strong, so addictive, and he needed that again. Of course, she could have changed. Settled down. People did. Just look at him, sitting here, having lunch with Max, with peanut butter smeared on his shirt. Who’d have ever thought this is what would make him happiest in the world, especially hating peanut butter the way he did?

  But it did because he’d found something worth changing for.

  Had Jenna?

  For her sake, he hoped she had. For his sake, though, he almost hoped she hadn’t. Not too much, anyway.

  “Where’s she living?” the five-year-old asked. Grinning from ear to ear, with grape jelly all over that grin, he clutched a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in one hand and a cookie in the other, holding more tightly to the cookie.

  “Upstairs. In the empty apartment.” The one with absolutely no accommodations, and she was due here some time tomorrow.

  Max scrunched up his nose. “It has spiders. Does the lady like spiders?”

  “Probably not. So we’ll have to get rid of them, won’t we?” Dermott took a bite of his own peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Noon lunch with his boy had become the tradition, either here or at Frank and Irene’s house, where Max spent his days. Barring any emergencies, he never broke the lunch date because it was one of the things he loved most about his life. “And we’ll also have to give her some of the old furniture I put in Grandpa’s barn after…” He stopped. It had been nearly five months now, and no one spoke of Nancy’s death in front of Max. No exceptions. And someday, if and when Max asked about her, Dermott would deal with it then, doling out the truths as Max was able to deal with them.

  So far, Max hadn’t asked. Dermott was grateful for that, since his inquisitive little boy asked about everything else. “After the two of us moved in here. Grandpa said he’d help us do that later today, so I’ll be counting on you to be in charge of getting that furniture put in the right place.”

  A deep frown popped up between Max’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything.

  “What’s that about?” Dermott asked, fighting to hold in a laugh. He knew that expression. Max was wrestling with a big decision.

  “Grandma wants me to go with her for ice cream later on. She says it’s very important, and I don’t think she likes to go there alone.”

  “Very important?”

  Max nodded solemnly. His frown deepened.

  “Well, if it’s very important, then you’d better go with her, don’t you think so? Especially since Grandma doesn’t like going alone.”

  A big grin broke out on Max’s face and his eyes fairly twinkled. “I think so, big guy,” he said, giving his dad the thumbs-up sign. Only Max’s thumb was covered with grape jelly, which he spotted and licked right off.

  Nancy had given him a beautiful child, and he owed her thanks for that. But for nothing else, because after she’d delivered Max into the world, she’d proceeded to make his own world a living hell. “Look, I think you need to go wash up and get ready to go back to Grandma’s for the afternoon. Grandpa will be by to get you in a few minutes.”

  “Can’t I stay with you, big guy? I won’t get in the way if somebody comes in. Promise.”

  The truth was, he probably could. There weren’t very many appointments scheduled. By design. Life had been tough for a while, and the people in Fort Dyott knew that his preference was to stay closer to his son these days. They respected it, and helped him do just that by seeking medical care in the Muledeer Clinic, which was in the next closest town to Fort Dyott. He knew, too, that so many people found that facing him was difficult, and painful, and that it was easier keeping a respectful distance for a while. However it was with them, they were good people. Nancy had been so beloved here that they’d overlooked her visible changes because that’s just how they were and he knew there had to be guilty feelings. So he understood the avoidance issues some of them dealt with, and tried to let people know he held no hard feelings. With a few exceptions, it would all work itself out eventually. He was sure of it. “You know the deal. When I work, you stay with Grandma and Grandpa. But how about I come and get you early so we can go to the park and play ball for a little while before supper? Will that work for you?”

  Max gave his head an affirmative nod. “Works for me, big guy.”

  Five minutes later, Dermott waved from the front stoop of his three-story red-brick building as Frank Allen drove away with Max. Frank and Irene adored the boy and, while they were Nancy’s parents, they were the only ones he trusted with his son. They were good people. Good for Max. Surprisingly, good for him too. Perhaps because they’d seen some of the problems their daughter had, and understood some of the abuses she’d inflicted. Some, not all. The rest were Dermott’s secrets to keep. Why hurt innocent people any deeper than they already hurt?

  Dermott watched until Frank’s truck disappeared around the corner, then returned to his office. Even though he practiced only about five hours a day right now, that seemed too much. Especially on a day after one of Max’s nightmares, like today. Those were especially rough, the times when he wanted to be with his son, to hold him a little closer, a little longer.

  But what he wanted wasn’t always what he got.

  Fort Dyott was larger than Jenna had expected. For some reason, she’d pictured a wide spot in the road, but there were several roads, actually. More than she could see in any direction. And there were shops, houses, churches, a movie theater—pretty much all the same things she was used to in Calgary, but on a smaller scale. By the time she’d reached Dermott’s building, she’d decided she liked the looks of Fort Dyott. The people strolling up and down the streets appeared friendly. The streets were, indeed, tree-lined, and so far she’d come across two parks.

  In fact, if she’d had a family to raise, this would have been an ideal place in which to do it. High praise, from a thirty-yearold who’d never imagined herself raising a family. Family implied direction and permanence and so far she’d successfully avoided that. Yet, if having a husband and children had been something she’d wanted to do, this would have been the right place in which to do it.

  Fort Dyott seemed a nice little town with all the amenities, like where she’d been raised along the southern Alberta border. It was perfect here. Or would be perfect for a little while, until she got herself too involved and had to leave.

  So maybe her brash, rash and otherwise impulsive decision to come here on Dermott’s lukewarm invitation would turn out to be a good move after all. “No expectations,” Jenna whispered, as she climbed out of her car and stared up at the old building. “Don’t have expectations about this, and nothing will hurt you.” That was a lesson she’d tried so hard to take to heart in the past, and always seemed to fail. No matter how hard she fought against them, expectations always found their way in, then ended up disappointing her.

  Well, not this time! She knew what she was getting with Dermott. Or most of what she was getting. And hormones aside, she didn’t need any more problems than she already had. Not even Dermott’s problems, which did worry her. But she wasn’t getting involved. Wasn’t asking. Wasn’t listening. W
asn’t lending a shoulder or any other part of her body for anything. No causes, no crusades. No nothing, except work.

  “So, just do it. Go up the steps and start over, Jenna.” Easier said than done as those eight steps up to the front door were some of the longest, slowest steps she’d taken in a while. Of the three phone calls she’d had with Dermott since she’d chased him down the street and accepted his offer, only one had been even marginally friendly. And she wasn’t sure that it was friendly so much as Dermott being relieved that she wasn’t calling to change her mind about the job. Whatever had happened to him these past years wasn’t good, and maybe that’s what she dreaded the most—coming face to face with the thing that had sucked the spirit right out of one of the brightest, most lively people she’d ever met.

  “But he’s not the reason you’re here,” she lied to herself, as she laid her hand on the old glass doorknob, bit down hard on her bottom lip, and turned the handle. “It’s about the job. That’s all. Just the job.” Easy to say, but not easy to believe, and that’s what frightened her. She could lie to herself all she wanted, but the lie wouldn’t even hold up to a gentle breeze. Who was she kidding? All the firmest resolutions aside, she was here for Dermott. But as a friend? Or more?

  Right now, she would fight, tooth and nail, to tell herself she was here just as a friend, and hope the other possibility didn’t seep in. Although, even admitting there was another possibility gave her a deep-down queasy feeling right in the pit of her stomach. “Don’t want that, don’t want that…” she said, gritting her teeth. “Do not want that.”

  That was good. Now all she had to do was tell herself she was here for…For what? Peace of mind? Change of career direction? Simpler lifestyle? All good reasons, she decided. Good, and interchangeable. If she embraced her reasons hard enough, she’d believe them. Wouldn’t she?

  He’s the reason you’re here.

  Damn it! Why couldn’t she fool herself even for a moment?

  Simple answer. She was here for Dermott, which scared her to death. So, she had two choices. Admit it, deal with it and, of course, not act on it. Or go and find another job somewhere else.

  “You should have thought it over better,” she admonished herself as she stood there, staring up at the building, wondering what would greet her on the other side of the door. Stupid thoughts! On the other side of that door were people who needed her. And a doctor who needed a nurse. If she could keep that in mind, she’d be good. “One step at a time, Jenna,” she whispered, finally pushing open the door.

  Jenna took her first step inside, plastering a perky smile to her face, ready to greet the patients as she walked through the waiting room for her first time, but after that one step her smile disappeared. The place was totally empty, the doorbell was jingling its merry tune to a completely hollow room. There wasn’t even a waiting-room television tuned to an annoying cartoon channel blaring away. It didn’t seem right, didn’t seem normal, especially when Dermott was the only doctor in town.

  “Hello,” she called out tentatively, wondering if she should head down the hall to the exam rooms, or go back to her car, leave town and see if that clinic she’d passed in Muledeer a couple of hours ago needed a nurse. “Anybody here?”

  There were noises above her, voices she thought, but she couldn’t make them out. “Hello,” she called, a little louder this time.

  Again, no response.

  “Dermott?” she called. “Dr. Callahan, are you here?” Her voice practically echoed, the place was so empty. “It’s Jenna. I’m here.”

  Suddenly, there was a pounding on the stairs behind her, and before she could turn around to see who it was, a little boy practically threw himself at her feet.

  “You must be the lady,” he said, assuming a tough-guy posture—arms folded across his chest, face in a deadly serious, deadly cute scowl.

  “And you must be Dr. Dermott Callahan,” Jenna replied, fighting back a smile.

  “Am not,” he insisted.

  “But that’s the name on the door.” To prove her point, she returned to the door, and showed the backwards outline of Dermott’s name there. “See? It says ‘Dr. Dermott Callahan, Family Practitioner’. So that means you must be Dr. Callahan.” Pretty little boy, if boys could be called pretty. Lots of curly blond hair. Blue eyes. Beautiful eyes exactly like…Dermott’s.

  Dermott had a son? Why hadn’t he mentioned it? “So, you are the doctor, aren’t you?” she continued.

  The little boy shook his head. “That’s the big guy, he’s the doctor. I just help out here when he needs me ’cos I’m too little to be a real doctor.”

  The child was just making her feel all warm and comfy inside, he was so adorable. “The big guy? Who’s that?”

  “He’s my…” He scrunched his face a moment, thinking. “He’s my big guy, and he’s upstairs, getting the apartment ready for you. It has spiders, and I’ll bet you hate spiders.”

  So Dermott was getting ready to stash her in a room with spiders. No romantic intentions there, which was a good thing. “So tell me, Dr. Dermott’s son, what’s your real name?”

  “Dermott Maxwell Callahan.” He nodded affirmatively, then added, “Junior.”

  “But you’re not a doctor, Dermott Maxwell Callahan, Junior?”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Call me Max. I’m going to be like Grandpa Frank when I grow up, and live on a ranch.”

  It was sounding like Dermott was part of a whole family system here. Ex-wife somewhere, child very much present, and parents or in-laws on a ranch. Tidy arrangement. One she almost envied. “I lived on a ranch for a little while when I was a girl. My grandfather’s still there. He raises horses.” They’d bred show horses, and a few that made it to the races. Riding those horses, and helping her grandfather…that’s where she’d learned that life could be good. That’s where she’d also learned to be afraid of too much of a good thing because good things didn’t always last long enough.

  “Can I ride one of his horses? All by myself? The big guy won’t let me ride by myself. Neither will Grandpa Frank. But I promise I won’t fall off.”

  “My grandfather has some pretty strict rules, too.” Rules she should have obeyed, but hadn’t. Rules she often wished she had obeyed, but didn’t someone once say that you can’t go home again? “You have to be at least this high before you can ride all by yourself.” Jenna gestured a height that was a good two heads taller than Max. “But after you grow some, you come back and see me and we’ll talk.”

  Max’s response was a thumbs-up sign, and a big grin that made Jenna grin right along with him. What a great little boy! How in the world could Dermott be so solemn and sad with someone like Max in his life? In some ways, Max reminded her of the way Dermott used to be. All smiles and optimism and enough charm to conquer the world. “Mind if I go find your father?”

  Max pointed to the ceiling, as he scurried down a hallway leading away from the clinic. Jenna looked up, realizing he must have meant that Dermott was upstairs somewhere. So she climbed the first flight only to find herself standing on the threshold of what seemed to be a very nice apartment. No spiders visible, though, which meant she was probably one floor up from there. Next flight up she stopped at a spacious, surprisingly nice third-floor flat. And while she didn’t exactly see the spiders, thanks to Max’s suggestion, she did feel them. Figuratively speaking, of course.

  “Dermott,” she called out.

  “Jenna?” He poked his head out from behind a stack of boxes. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”

  “I got an early start,” she said, surveying what was going to be her home. “There was nothing to keep me in Calgary.”

  “It’s better than it looks.” Dermott laughed, stepping out into full view, wiping his dirty hands on the back of his jeans. “The apartment…it has what real estate agents would call potential.”

  She’d thought the same thing about Dermott, once upon a time.

  “Although I think the potential might have been a lit
tle cleaner tomorrow,” he continued.

  Even in the dark, covered with cobwebs, Dermott was gorgeous. But he was divorced, or in the middle of a divorce, she had to remind herself. All looking, no touching. That was the rule. But, dear lord, he was good to look at. She’d always admired that about him. Couldn’t help herself then, couldn’t help herself now.

  It was a brief admiring look, she told herself. Just a tiny little one that didn’t count. One quick glance and it was out of her mind. Gone. Vanished. Poof! “But I don’t have to pay extra for the spiders, do I?”

  He chuckled. “You must have met Max. He’s a little obsessed with the eight-legged creatures right now but, I promise you, there are no spiders here.”

  “Cute little boy. Smart.”

  “Thanks. I’m a little partial, but I think so, too.”

  “You never mentioned him when we talked. Why’s that?”

  “I don’t generally. Max and I keep to ourselves most of the time. We, um…we keep our lives pretty private, pretty simple.”

  Well, this was awkward. No two ways about it, she’d stumbled into a situation where she wasn’t wanted, and from there she didn’t know which way to go. So she didn’t. She kept quiet, stood still and waited for Dermott to make the next move.

  Which he did after he’d felt the long, sticky pause between them. “OK, let’s just get this out of the way,” he said, before the next second of awkward time had passed between them. “I’m a widower. Almost five months now.”