“Sometimes moms are complicated.”
“It’s not just moms. It’s all women. Just when you think you’ve got them figured out, they surprise you.”
Tyler continued to look up at him. The smile faded. “Do you have other kids?”
Ethan felt a tightness in his chest. Without thinking, he put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “No. I don’t.”
“So it’s just me?”
Ethan nodded.
“I wouldn’t mind a brother, but I sure don’t want a sister.”
Liz was sitting on the front porch when they got back to her place. Tyler raced toward her and threw himself in her arms.
“We had the best time,” he said. “The Mountaineers won and the manager got mad at the umpire and got thrown out of the game.”
“That can’t be good,” she replied, releasing her son. She looked over his head toward Ethan. “Sounds like everything went well.”
He nodded, determined not to react to her in a T-shirt and shorts. Nothing about the clothes was special—it was the woman inside the clothes that made him take notice.
Her legs were long and toned, the skin smooth. Her bare feet made her look vulnerable. His instinctive reaction was to protect. Then he had to remind himself that Liz was the bad guy here, which made him uncomfortable.
“I’m gonna tell Melissa and Abby about the game,” Tyler announced and ran inside. The screen door slammed behind him.
“I’m glad you had a good time,” she said.
Ethan let his anger take over. “There shouldn’t be anything to be glad about. I shouldn’t have to get to know my son. I should be a part of his life. You didn’t have the right, Liz. You didn’t just screw with my life, you screwed with Tyler’s.”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment, then she reached behind her and picked up a letter. The envelope was smudged and had the look of paper that had been handled a thousand times. She held it out to him.
He didn’t want to take it. Because in that second, looking into her eyes, he knew she’d been telling the truth. That five years ago she had tried to tell him about Tyler.
His fingers closed over the envelope. The date on the postmark confirmed her story, as did the handwritten address. The writing wasn’t his—he could see that immediately. But it was close enough that someone else could be fooled. After all, it wouldn’t have occurred to Liz that someone was trying to mislead her.
He pulled out the single sheet of paper. The message was brutally clear. “I know about the kid you claim is mine. What we had ended years ago. I have my own family now. My own responsibilities. I don’t want anything to do with him or you. Stay away from me and from Fool’s Gold.”
The letter didn’t excuse her running away and not telling him about her pregnancy, but it explained a lot. Suddenly his anger wasn’t as hot or bright as it had been. He was the one left feeling played by a woman who had claimed to love him.
Rayanne had known, he thought, shaking his head. She’d known for months, had gone into labor knowing he had another child out there and hadn’t said a word. She’d kept the truth to herself, even as she died in his arms.
While theirs might not have been a love match, he’d thought he’d known her. Had understood her. But he’d been wrong. She hadn’t been willing to take a chance that he might want Liz’s child more than he wanted hers. He knew Rayanne well enough to believe that.
The deception changed everything, he thought grimly, although he couldn’t say how. It wasn’t just the act of omission—she’d deliberately lied to Liz. What if Tyler had needed him? Liz would never have contacted him. Not after reading those words.
“I’m sorry,” Liz murmured.
He returned his attention to her, saw the sympathy in her green eyes. “What have you got to be sorry about?”
“You were married to her. She’s gone. You can’t ask her why she did it or know if she ever regretted what she did.”
He already knew the answer to both. The only real question was how he could have been so wrong about the woman he’d married.
He put the letter back in the envelope and handed both to her. “I guess I owe you an apology.”
“I’ll remind you of that the next time you’re mad at me. I expect that to be in about fifteen seconds.” She gave him a slow smile. “You’ve become emotionally volatile in my absence. It’s a little surprising.”
“Maybe I’m exploring my feminine side.”
“Maybe you need medication.”
He leaned against the railing. “You really did try to tell me about Tyler.”
She nodded.
There were still the first six years of Tyler’s life to deal with, but that was for another time. A few words on a page had changed everything.
“Can we start over?” he asked.
Her expression turned wary. “While I appreciate the offer and don’t mean to sound ungracious, it’s really just a matter of time until you’re pissed at me again.”
“Don’t you want to take advantage of my good mood?”