Chapter Twelve
* * *
TRAVIS HAD BEEN sitting on Gemma’s front step for hours. He looked out over the view of the Magic Valley and took in the flat fields that gave way to the Sawtooth Mountains to the north. People didn’t always appreciate the beauty of southern Idaho, but he’d never been anywhere else that compared.
Last night he’d left Gemma and gone for a drive. He’d ended up on Highway 30, driving until he passed Bliss, and took a dirt road down to the river. Getting out of his truck, he’d sat on the hood and listened to the water as his mind raced.
She’d lied to him. She’d kept his son from him. Those were the facts, but the truth was, she’d done more than that. He’d always thought of Gemma as this bright spot in his life, and now it was tarnished. Even if she hadn’t told him ten years ago, she’d had plenty of chances over the last couple of days.
It’s not exactly casual dinner conversation.
He hadn’t appreciated his voice of reason defending her. Despite her obvious trust issues with him, he had never doubted her. Which made him the world’s biggest idiot.
Once he’d exercised his rage by chucking some rocks into the river, he’d driven back to the motel and spent all night thinking about what his next move would be. It was hard to imagine that he had a son who was already half grown, but there it was.
He could easily have called his lawyer and let the courts figure it out, but he didn’t hate Gemma, despite her betrayal. He needed to talk to her, to try to really understand why she’d felt like she couldn’t tell him about Charlie. Maybe they could salvage what they had started building, or at least try to be friends. At the very least, he was curious about the son they’d made.
He stood up when Gemma’s blue Subaru came to a stop in front of the house, brushing his sweating palms against his pants legs. For some reason, he had been nervous about coming over to talk to her.
I have nothing to be nervous about; she’s the one who’s been keeping secrets.
Gemma opened the door and got out, her eyes wide behind her black-framed glasses as she gasped. “Travis, what are you doing here?”
Her tone rubbed him the wrong way, like he’d been the one to drop a bombshell on her, and his intentions to be civil and calm flew out the window.
“Can’t a man spend his free time with his wife?” Travis asked sarcastically. Besides, considering how surly she’d been to him in Vegas when they’d first bumped into each other, she deserved a little snark.
The passenger door opened and a boy got out, his brown curly hair flopping over his forehead.
“Mom? What’s going on?”
Gemma’s face paled, and Travis couldn’t look away from Charlie. From his son.
“Who is this, Gemma?”
Gemma looked between them and shut her door. Walking to the other side, she whispered something to Charlie and shut his door, too.
With her arm around their son’s shoulders, she walked toward him, and Travis saw the worry in her eyes.
They stopped in front of him, and Travis got a good look at Charlie for the first time. The reason the kid had seemed so familiar hit him hard; Charlie looked just like the few pictures he had of himself growing up. He had his blue eyes, and although the shape of his chin was Gemma’s, he had his nose. At least he thought so.
The kid’s expression was nervous as he looked up at Travis, and he wanted to say something to put the kid at ease, but his own emotional turmoil was choking him. Never having been around kids much, he was scared shitless of this pint-sized version of himself and, at the same time, was trying to rein in his temper as Gemma pulled Charlie against herself protectively. Like he’d take his anger at her out on his own child.
My son. My child. It was overwhelming.
“Travis, this is Charlie,” Gemma said. Travis’s heart squeezed as Charlie shot him a shy smile.
His gaze shifted to Gemma, the woman he had once thought was amazingly kind and honest to a fault, and wondered how he could have been so blind. All night he had tossed and turned, had wanted to come here and talk, to really understand where she was coming from, but looking at his boy, he was furious with her.
OH GOD.
Gemma watched as Charlie held out his hand to Travis and said, “Hello, sir.”
Travis’s expression was thunderous, and he had every right to be angry. Still, she hoped he would understand the pleading look on her face and the shake of her head.
Not in front of Charlie.
Maybe it was because she knew how angry he was, but he seemed bigger and more threatening. Gemma fought the urge to put her son behind her, a ridiculous reaction her rational brain thought. Travis wouldn’t hurt Charlie.
Travis’s hard expression melted a bit as he knelt down. “Hey. Charlie, huh? That’s my middle name.”
“I know! Mom named me Charlie for you. My middle name is Michael for Uncle Mike.”
“Yeah? That makes a lot of sense, because your uncle and I were best friends in high school. Used to do everything together. Camp, fish—”
“We caught some trout a few weeks ago. Mom has them in the freezer. Do you want to see?”
Gemma held onto Charlie when he started to run off and said, “Why don’t you show your dad your fish another time? You’ve got to unpack, and I think your dad wants to talk to me.”
“But Mom . . .” Charlie started to argue, looking up at her with those lethal dark blue eyes. So much like his father’s.
It was Travis who saved her. “Actually, Charlie, I was thinking maybe we could spend the day together tomorrow. Get to know each other?”
“Yes! Mom, too?” Charlie asked eagerly.
Travis looked up at her, but his smile didn’t reach his frosty eyes. “Sure, she can come.”
“Yes! I can’t wait to tell Evan. This is so awesome!” Charlie ran over to give Travis a hug, and Gemma’s eyes stung when he whispered, “I’m so glad you came.”
Travis’s strong arms wrapped around Charlie, but his gaze never left Gemma’s. “Me, too, Charlie. See you tomorrow.”
Charlie, oblivious to the tension between them, ran into the house. When Gemma heard the door close, she waited for the explosion she knew was coming.
TRAVIS HAD BEEN abandoned, beaten, and had his heart broken, but he’d never felt so betrayed. And by the one person he trusted the most.
“How does he know about me?” Travis asked, confused.
“I told him. Once he started school, he asked about you, where his dad was. I told him that we were really young, and that you left town without knowing,” she said.
“You mean I left town and you decided not to tell me. Instead, you broke up with me,” he said, unable to resist the dig. The shock of actually meeting Charlie made the situation she’d put him in worse. He saw the happiness and excitement in his son’s eyes at meeting him for the first time, and white-hot shocks of rage had shot through him at what he had missed out on.
Gemma’s excuses only fueled the fire.
“Yes, Travis, it’s my fault. I was wrong not to tell you, not to give you the chance to choose to be involved or not, but in all fairness, I didn’t have a lot of faith in your commitment to me. If I recall, after I told you we should break up, your final word on the subject was ‘okay.’”
After I asked you several times to believe me. “What was I supposed to say when the girl I loved said we should break up?”
“You apologized several times for not fighting for me, but I wonder if the real reason you never really tried to stop me was because you were relieved,” she said, and that gave him pause.
Had he been relieved when Gemma had left him? He remembered the misery and the hurt, but now that he thought about it, maybe. Maybe there had been a small part of him that had been glad she had ended it before he really did screw it up, because that was the way his life had always gone. The minute something good happened to him, something bad snatched it away.
“I was a young, hot mess. After everything I had been through, you really expected me to chase you down and beg you not to break up with me?” he asked.
“No, but I didn’t think it would be that easy to walk away either,” she said.
It hadn’t been easy. For months after that night, he had reached for the phone when he got good news or just because he missed the sound of her voice, but he’d been too proud to break down and make the first move.
But he wasn’t going to apologize for that night anymore. Now, this was about the fact that she hadn’t bothered to contact him in ten years to tell him about his kid. That she had spent several days with him before she’d blurted it out unexpectedly. And he had a feeling if he hadn’t followed her, he never would have known.
“Were you going to tell me? If I hadn’t come back here, if we hadn’t run into each other in Vegas, would you ever have told me about him?”
Her face said it all. “I don’t know.”
Travis was so hot under the collar, he wanted to hit something. He needed to get the hell away from her.
“I’ll be by in the morning to see Charlie,” Travis said, starting for his truck.
“Travis, please, we aren’t done. I don’t want our personal stuff affecting Charlie,” she said.
Travis opened the door with a sneer. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell him what a liar you are.”
Travis ignored her gasp and climbed into the truck. He was too pissed off to care if he hurt her. What he needed was a bottle of whiskey to help him forget about Gemma for a few hours. Maybe after a few shots the truth wouldn’t hurt so much.
Truth. Did anyone tell the truth anymore?
TRAVIS WALKED INTO Buck’s Shot Bar and thanked God there were only a couple of people inside. The last thing he wanted was to be bombarded by a bunch of excited townspeople.
He sat at the bar, and Eric Henderson looked over at him with a grin. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. Travis, you look like hell.”
Travis shook Eric’s hand. He had always like the Henderson family, from Buck and Connie to their boys, Eric and Grant. They had a daughter, but she’d taken off after she graduated high school and he’d never met her. If it hadn’t been for Buck letting him play in the bar, he never would have been picked up by Off Road Records.
Or left Gemma. If he had been in town when she’d found out she was pregnant, how would his life have changed? Was she right about him resenting her if he’d been stuck here, working to support his family instead of following his dream? He’d like to think not, but the teenaged version of himself hadn’t exactly been mature.
“Eric, give me a shot of Jack. Leave the bottle, though,” Travis said.
“Ouch. I take it you know, then,” Eric said, pouring the whiskey into a shot glass.
Travis glared. “Know what?”
“About Charlie. You’ve seen Gemma?” Eric asked.
Travis took the shot and laughed bitterly. “Oh, yeah, I’ve seen Gemma. So, does everyone know he’s mine?”
“Well, it’s not like Gemma ever told anyone, but he’s your spit for sure. He’s a great kid,” Eric said, refilling Travis’s empty glass.
“I wouldn’t know. Only talked to him for about five minutes,” Travis said, downing the next one.
“Gemma’s a good mom, too,” Eric added, pouring again.
“Again, I wouldn’t know, although I have my doubts.” He downed his third shot and said, “Anyone who can keep a father from his kid isn’t exactly of strong moral character.”
“I know it’s none of my business, but Gemma is a good woman, Travis,” Eric said.
The last thing Travis wanted to hear about was Gemma’s virtues. Throwing down some money, he took the bottle over to a table and sat down.
God, how could he have been so wrong about her? What the hell had possessed her to think it was better to lie than trust him? His hand squeezed around the bottle, he wished again for something he could hit.
“Hey there, Travis,” a feminine voice said.
Travis looked up and tried to smile. “Kirsten, how the hell are you?”
Kirsten Winters had always been a little on the ditzy side, but she had been hotter than the Fourth of July in high school. If anything, she was even hotter now.
“I’m good. Want some company?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure I’d be much fun to be around. Had a bad day,” he said, taking another shot.
“Poor baby.” Patting his hand on the table, she said, “Wanna come back to my place? Talk about it?”
Kirsten and he had dated for a few weeks in his junior year, but even with that history, he wasn’t tempted. He was too pissed off to think about sex, and despite everything Gemma had done, he wasn’t the type to cheat on his wife.
“That’s sweet, honey, but I’m married.” His ring had been packed away in his bag after Gemma had requested that he not tell anyone, but who cared now?
Kirsten’s face showed her surprise and disappointment. “Oh, well, congratulations. Who’s the lucky woman?”
“Travis Bowers? Check it out, Walt, it’s Travis Bowers.”
Travis grimaced and turned his gaze to Wayne Coulter. He had despised the Coulter brothers: they were rotten bastards. Wayne was the leader, and Travis had busted his nose senior year when he and his brother had cornered Gemma in the bathroom at a party. When he’d heard her screaming, Mike and he had burst in on Gemma, smashed between the two guys. Pulling Wayne out, Travis had thrown him against the wall and gone after him. All he remembered past that was Gemma pulling on him, begging him to stop.
“Wayne, Walter,” Travis said coolly.
“Well, I can’t believe it. Mr. Superstar himself back in Rock Canyon. What happened, Travis? Country music find out you were a hack?”
Travis grinned. “Hey, you know what, Wayne, the nose looks good. Can hardly see the lump.”
Wayne’s face flushed. “Shithead. Just ’cause you sucker punched me doesn’t make you some kind of hero.”
“Wayne!” Eric yelled from behind the bar. “I warned you what would happen if you started shit in my bar.”
Walter, the weaker of the two, blurted out, “We’re just talking, Eric.”
“Yeah, we were just saying hey to our old buddy, Travis,” Wayne said. “We won’t start anything.”
Eric glared but kept cleaning the glass in his hand. Travis shook his head. He could handle whatever Wayne Coulter dished out.
“Hey, Kirsten,” Walter said, eyeing the flashy blonde. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Kirsten sat down across from Travis. “Sorry, Walt. I was just talking to Travis.”
Travis caught Walter’s disappointment and would have felt bad for him if he didn’t know what a little snake he could be.
“So, how long are you in town for, Bowers?” Walter asked.
“Not sure yet,” Travis said.
“Gonna go see your old friend Gemma?” Wayne sneered, and Travis stiffened at his tone.
“Already seen her,” Travis said.
“She really looks good now that she lost all that baby weight,” Kirsten said casually, and Travis shot her a dark look.
“Better than you remember, right? I mean, I never minded the extra meat on her, just more cushion . . .”
Travis stood up and grabbed Wayne by the collar. “Do not say another f*cking word.”
Wayne threw up his hands and said, “Whoa, man, I was just saying she got better after high school, that’s all.”
“Do not look at, speak to, or talk about my wife again,” Travis growled.
“Wife?” The Coulter brothers and Kirsten gasped.
Travis let Wayne go and said, “Yeah, wife. So do us both a favor and don’t give me a reason to kick your ass again.”
Travis grabbed his bottle of Jack, planning on heading back to the motel to sleep, but he should have known that Wayne Coulter was still as stupid as he’d been in high school.
“So, why’d it take you ten years to marry her, Bowers? Is it because she’s finally a stone cold fox, or ’cause you found out about your bastard kid?”
Without thinking about the consequences, Travis transferred the bottle to his left hand and turned on Wayne Coulter. With the full force of his rage behind his right fist, Travis broke his nose. Again.