A Cowboy, a Bride & a Wedding Vow Page 2
No, he corrected himself harshly, not his Catie. He’d given up the right to call Catie his a long time ago. He was ashamed that he’d never called her, but he’d arrived home to find the ranch deep in debt, and it had taken all of his time and energy for a while to keep it afloat. Then, there was the accident. In all fairness, Jake told himself, Catie hadn’t called him, either.
Jake looked up to find Matt watching him. He took a deep breath and strove to get his emotions under control.
“Catie St. John is your mother?” he asked, and his voice took on a new huskiness. He cleared his throat, willing away the tightness inside his chest, the grip of emotion that seized him. Instead, it became worse, carving at him like the sharpened blade of a knife.
Matt nodded a little hesitantly. “I’ve never heard anyone call her Catie,” he answered. “She goes by Catherine.”
Jake digested that information. He’d shortened her name to Catie shortly after they’d met.
“Matt, did your mother tell you I was your father?” There had to be some mistake, some reason Catie had listed his name on her son’s certificate. Though it was only seconds, it seemed as if an eternity passed before Matt finally answered.
“No,” he admitted, then glanced away momentarily. “I didn’t really ask her.”
“You didn’t ask her?” Jake repeated. Lines indented the skin between his brows as he stared at Matt. “You mean you didn’t talk to her about this?” His tone was incredulous.
Matt’s head moved from side to side.
“Are you telling me that Catie—your mother,” he amended, “doesn’t even know that you were curious about your father?” he asked roughly, astonished that the boy wouldn’t have discussed something this important with his mother before he took off on his own. What kind of relationship did they share? Had the sweet young woman he’d known changed so much? Was she that unapproachable?
“She doesn’t have time for me anymore,” Matt stated, a little defiance in his tone. “She’s getting married soon. I thought if I found my father, that maybe…maybe I could live with him for a while. I don’t have that long until I graduate and then I can be on my own.” For the first time he looked worried, as if his plan had flaws that he hadn’t even thought about.
Jake laid the paper on the desk, then straightened his shoulders and crossed his arms in front of him. The news that Catie was about to get married shouldn’t have bothered him, but his gut tightened a fraction. “Don’t you think she might be worried about you?”
Guilt flashed through Matt’s eyes. “I guess so,” he admitted. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. A sadness stole over his young features. He seemed to want so much to appear grown-up, but Jake saw only a young boy with a need for attention, a need for a father. “I guess you didn’t want anything to do with me.” He looked right at Jake, staring at him as if his very life depended on his answer.
Jake swore, then murmured an apology to the boy. Jake had let his father’s lawyer, Frank Davis, handle all of the correspondence for the ranch. Surely he would have passed any personal letters on to Jake.
“Believe me, Matt, if I’d known about you, I damn sure would have contacted your mother.” He stood and paced to the window, looking out at the expanse of the Bar M, his family’s ranch. He’d given his life to keep the ranch going, to make sure his family stayed together. Had he given up his son, too?
Turning, he stared at the boy. Yes, now he could see Catie in him and knew that was why Matt had looked so familiar when he’d come to the door. His nose was just like hers and there was something about the way he tilted his head when he talked. Catie used to do that.
Matt was watching him, so Jake walked back over to within a couple of feet of him. “I have to tell you, Matt, that I still believe there’s some mistake, but I think we’d better call your mother right away. I’m sure she’s very worried about you.”
Matt stood, and his stance became rigid. “I don’t want to go back to live with her. Can’t I stay here? I won’t be any trouble, I swear. I do pretty good in school, and I can be a real help on your ranch.”
Jake’s heart filled with compassion, but he didn’t let himself believe that Matt was his son. Jake was sure Catie would provide a reasonable explanation once he got in touch with her.
“I can’t make you any promises, Matt. The first thing we have to do is talk to your mother.”
Matt looked scared and uneasy. Jake lifted the receiver of the telephone and extended it toward him. When he didn’t move immediately to grasp it, Jake shook it gently, encouraging the boy to take it.
Matt put the receiver to his ear. Leaning over the desk, he punched some numbers in, then cast a guarded look at Jake as he waited for it to ring. Moments later his eyes darkened when his mother answered.
“Hey, Mom. It’s me, Matt.”
Silence stretched as Matt listened to his mother’s response. Jake wished now that he’d put the phone on speaker so he could hear what Catie was saying. He was surprised at his anticipation of talking to her, even under these strange and unexpected circumstances.
Matt said, “I’m okay, Mom. I’m sorry I scared you.” For a couple of minutes more Matt just listened. Jake watched as the boy turned away to hide the tears in his eyes. “I know, Mom. I’m sorry. I really am.” His voice shook enough to betray his emotions, and he took a deep breath.
“I know you’re going to be mad, but I came to see my father,” Matt whispered into the receiver. “I found the hospital paper with his address. You know, the one in the chest in your room.”
Jake watched the boy talk. He was genuinely remorseful, and Jake was impressed. Matt had manners and a conscience, and it seemed as if Catie had raised her son well.
Their son.
Jake’s mind wandered automatically. Could it be true? Was Matt his son? He looked again at the boy for some sort of physical sign. Besides his height, all he could see was Catie. Matt had her brown hair color, her dark-green eyes.
Matt couldn’t be his son, Jake told himself again. There was no way Catie wouldn’t have let him know he’d fathered a child. She wouldn’t have kept Matt to herself for all these years. Jake was drawn from his thoughts when Matt held the receiver out to him.
“My mom wants to speak to you,” he said, sounding every bit as contrite as he looked.
Jake hesitated a moment before grasping the telephone, taking a breath to prepare himself. Finally he raised the phone to his ear.
“Catie, this is Jake.”
There was a long silence on the line, and for a moment or two, Jake thought he’d lost the connection. Then she spoke.
“Jake.”
Hearing her say his name touched a vast emptiness inside him. Her voice nearly crumbled, and Jake felt her pain. She must have been out of her mind with worry when she discovered Matt was missing.
“How are you, Catie?” Jake made himself say the words. Emotion choked him, making him feel as if he was locked in a box and suffocating.
“Fine. I’m fine. And it’s Catherine,” she added, her tone containing none of the warmth that Jake remembered from when they were together. “Look, I’m sorry about this.” Again, she faltered, unable, it seemed, to go on.
“He’s all right, Catherine.” Her name sounded foreign to him even as he said it. He felt as if he was in some kind of time warp.
Through the telephone, Jake could sense Catherine’s terror. She sounded desperate and exhausted. He looked at Matt and, for a moment, wanted to strangle the kid. What had he been thinking to run off without talking to his mother?
After an audible gasp of breath, she spoke again. “I was so worried. I was afraid that something terrible had happened to Matthew. So many bad things can happen to children today. I don’t know what got into him.”
“He looks a bit tired, but other than that he’s okay. Don’t worry about him.”
“Thank you for calling me,” Catherine whispered through the line.
Jake hesitated, then replied, “It was no problem.” Th
eir conversation was stilted, filled with an awkwardness of years gone by, which left Jake wondering how much Catie had changed. When they were together, they’d been able to talk about anything. Now it was as if they were strangers.
Well, they were, he reminded himself. He didn’t know this Catherine, and she knew nothing about him. They weren’t the same two kids who fell in love in college.
“How on earth did Matthew get there?”
“He said he caught a bus, then hitched a couple of rides,” Jake told her, repeating what Matt had told him.
“Oh, my— Jake, I’m leaving right away to come and get him.”
Jake glanced at his watch and frowned. “It’s late. Why don’t you wait until morning?” he suggested, thinking it wouldn’t be a good idea for her to travel while she was so upset. Then he thought it ridiculous that he was concerned about her. She probably wouldn’t be traveling alone.
“I’m coming right now, Jake.” Catherine’s voice held a you-can’t-stop-me tone and Jake shuddered. He knew she was worried, but for some reason he thought there was more to it than that. Jake heard the panic in her voice and glanced at Matt who was across the room, leaning against a wall. He looked scared, uneasy and worried.
“Hold on a minute,” Jake said into the receiver, then placed his hand over the mouthpiece. “Matt, why don’t you wait in the family room while I talk to your mother?” he suggested. “It’s the second room as you go out.” Matt didn’t move and Jake added, “Go on.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Matt nodded.
Jake waited while Matt went out the door, then put the receiver back to his ear. “I’ve sent Matt out of the room so we can talk in private,” he informed Catherine.
“That really wasn’t necessary. The only thing I have to say is that I’m coming to get him. Right now.” Her tone was curt, determined.
“Catie, wait.” Jake realized he’d reverted to his nickname for her. He frowned, and the thought occurred to him that some habits never change.
He had hoped to wait until he saw her in person, when he could better judge what she was telling him by her expression. But he needed to know the truth. It seemed as if she wanted to come and whisk Matt away without any explanation. Jake wasn’t going to let that happen.
He wanted answers.
“Catie, Matt told me why he came here,” Jake stated, and the bald statement created a tense strain of silence on the line.
“What…what exactly did he say, Jake?” she asked, her voice once again unsteady.
“He showed me a hospital certificate with my name on it.” He let that sit between them for a moment, wanting her to absorb the shock as he’d had to.
When she didn’t say anything, Jake took a deep breath. It took every ounce of his courage to ask the question on his mind. “Is it true, Catie? Am I Matt’s father?”
Two
Catherine St. John grasped the telephone receiver tighter, holding on to it like a drowning person would cling to a life preserver after a shipwreck at sea. Her heart stopped, and she squeezed her eyes closed.
Am I Matt’s father?
She had been dreading that question for much longer than Jake McCall could possibly imagine. For thirteen years, since the day she’d learned she was pregnant, she’d wondered when this day would come. She’d thought about it, worried about it, feared it. There was rarely a day when she didn’t think about Jake or the circumstances that left her pregnant and alone.
“Jake—” Her pleading tone implied stalling and Jake cut her off.
“Catie, I want the truth. Now. Is Matt my son?” Jake demanded.
“Yes.”
The whispered word was barely audible. The immediate silence it brought was deafening.
Jake was the one who broke it, and his tone wasn’t kind. “Why, Catie?” he demanded, sounding incredulous, angry and not at all understanding. “Why in hell didn’t you ever tell me?”
Catherine’s first thought was to try again to put the conversation off. She was already dealing with one crisis—she couldn’t handle another. Not now. Not when she’d been sick with worry for hours, wondering where Matthew was and whether or not he was safe.
“I don’t think we should be discussing this over the telephone,” she answered quickly, hoping she didn’t sound as panicked as she felt. She needed time to think, time to pull herself together. “I’m leaving to come there shortly. We can discuss it then.” Her suggestion was met with silence, and she added, “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Matt’s exhausted and probably hungry. I’m sure he can use a night’s sleep. You can come in the morning,” Jake told her. “Get a flight to San Luis, then rent a car. You could probably be here by early afternoon.”
“I want to come now,” she insisted, her voice rising just a notch.
“He’s not going anywhere, and it seems to me that you both need a few hours to get yourselves together. I’ll see to it that he doesn’t leave here,” Jake promised.
“I’m not concerned with him leaving again.”
“Then what are you concerned about?”
Catherine sighed heavily. “Jake, it’s complicated. Matt should never have come to you. He’s mixed up right now.”
“Catie—”
“He’s my son. I’m sorry that you were brought into this, that he came all the way there before I had a chance to clear things up with him. But I’m not letting him stay any longer than necessary.”
After a moment Jake surprised her by agreeing. “You’re right,” he replied. “We should discuss this in person.” Then his voice lowered to a deep, determined tone. “Tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to wait until tomorrow,” Catherine declared, and her voice cracked a bit. If she waited until morning, it would be afternoon before she got there. She put a hand to her temple and massaged the headache that had started the moment she had heard Jake McCall’s voice.
“I’m not giving you a choice.” Jake’s tone was sharp and to the point. It left little room for arguing.
“That’s not—”
“What? Fair? Is that what you were going to say?” he demanded, cutting her off once again.
“Jake—”
“Look,” he said roughly as he argued the point. “Matt’s upset. It might be best to give him some time to work things out. You can just as easily fly in tomorrow.”
Catie stiffened and grasped the telephone tighter, her knuckles turning white. She tried very hard to stay calm, but Jake was making it terribly difficult.
“I don’t need you to tell me what’s best for my son.” How could Jake even know what was best for Matthew? He hadn’t even known the boy existed until today.
“Apparently you do,” Jake countered. “He ran away from you. That tells me he wasn’t happy.”
Catherine bristled, and the anger she’d held in check until now began to seep out. “It wasn’t like that. You don’t know anything about him, Jake.”
Jake’s voice took on a hard edge. “You’re wrong, Catie. I know one thing for damn sure. I know now that he’s my son.”
Catherine hung up the receiver. In the end she’d given in and agreed to arrive at Jake’s ranch tomorrow. Under the circumstances it seemed the best way to handle the entire situation.
And it wasn’t as if Jake had given her a choice. Oh, she could ignore him and leave immediately. But Jake had already begun sounding hostile, and Catherine didn’t want to make an enemy of Jake McCall. Not now. Not while Matthew was in Jake’s home.
Catherine went to her room and began packing a bag of clothes. After throwing in the necessary items for a day’s stay, she walked to Matthew’s room and retrieved a change of clothing for her son and put them in with her things.
Why hadn’t she seen this coming? she wondered. Had she been so out of tune to Matthew’s needs that she’d missed warning signals that something was terribly wrong in her son’s life?
She’d noticed that he’d been distant and moody over the past few months, but Catheri
ne had just tossed that up to his being an adolescent. All adolescents went through personality changes. As a high school counselor, she knew that well enough. Catherine hadn’t thought there was anything to worry about. Matthew was a good kid. He was respectful and made decent grades. She’d thought that he just needed some time, that he’d come around.
But she’d been wrong. So terribly wrong.
Though Matthew had known about the chest in her room, she hadn’t thought that he’d go into it on his own. She remembered when he was about eight and had come upon Catherine going through some of the contents. When he’d seen a picture of her and Jake together, he’d asked if the man was his father. Catherine had told him the truth, that his father was someone she’d known in college. Matthew hadn’t asked about his father since that day.
What had she ever done to make her son feel as if she didn’t want him around? Since his birth there had just been the two of them. When Catherine had found out she was pregnant, Jake had already left college and returned home to take care of his younger brothers and sister. Catherine had tried to call him. She’d left a couple of messages, but Jake had never returned her calls.
They’d argued the night before he’d left. Jake’s roommate had told her of Jake’s parents’ death. She’d wanted to go to him, but her father hadn’t permitted her to. When weeks passed with no word from him, Catherine had been hurt, assuming that he’d meant to break off their relationship.
Only when she learned she was pregnant did Catherine decide to write him and ask him to contact her. Instead of getting a letter from Jake, she’d received one from his lawyer stating that Jake didn’t know her. It was then that she’d decided not to tell him about the baby. She loved him, but she didn’t want Jake back because she was pregnant with his child. She’d wanted his love, but he’d shut her out of his life.
Leaning over the table, Catherine held her head against her palms and closed her eyes. She’d felt betrayed and hurt, and she’d held on to that anger for years. It had provided her with the will to take care of herself and her baby. She’d fed on it every time things got rough and she felt like giving up.