His Ten-Year-Old Secret. Donna Clayton
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for coming over to talk.”
“Aww, now—” the woman actually seemed embarrassed “—there’s no cause to go thanking me. Just trying to be neighborly. And seeing as how you sped out of here earlier like an arrow out of a bow, didn’t seem like you and Dylan had much chance to catch up on things.”
“No.” Now it was Tess’s turn to feel chagrined. “You’re right, we didn’t.” But she simply couldn’t bring herself to explain the situation.
What could she say? That she’d just discovered today that she has a daughter?
This woman would think she was a raving lunatic!
“Well, I’d better go find someplace to grab some dinner.” The last thing Tess wanted was food. But she needed a means to politely take her leave. She had a hotel room floor that needed pacing, hours that needed worrying through. She turned away and started toward her car.
“You know...”
Something in the woman’s tone made her jerk to a halt and spin around. The elderly lady’s mouth was curled into a soft smile.
“I know how you can contact Dylan,” she said. “If you’ve a mind to, that is.”
Tess’s silent, eager expression was answer enough to make the woman chuckle.
“You see, Dylan has his phone number listed there—” she pointed to a small, index-card-size note taped in a lower corner of the window “—just in case of an emergency. I had to call him once when a bunch of boys were hanging about in the parking lot here and getting up to no good.”
With her hopes soaring, Tess rushed to the window, scrambling in her purse for something to write with at the same time.
“Thank you,” she told the woman. “Thank you so much.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t do you any favors. His number is there in the window for all the world to see.”
Tess protested, “Yes, but—”
“Would you stop already,” the woman said, grinning. “And go make your call. There’s a telephone right there on the corner.”
“I will.” Tess stuffed the ink pen back into her purse and then began fishing for change as she headed for the phone booth.
Dylan answered on the third ring, the sound of his voice like a soft caress against Tess’s ear.
“Dylan,” she said, making every effort to speak smoothly, “it’s Tess.”
There were several seconds of dead silence.
Finally she heard him exhale in a short, puffy sort of sigh.
“I’ve got to admit,” he said quietly, “you’ve surprised me again. I thought I might hear from you, but . not quite so soon. How’d you get my home number?”
Not wanting to get the elderly lady who had helped her into hot water, Tess only told him half the truth. “From the emergency card you have posted in the front window at your auto repair shop.”
“Ah.”
The small sound was velvet soft over the phone line.
“And you thought this constituted an emergency.”
Tess listened hard, but detected no censure in his tone, and she was left believing that this was his way of filling what would have otherwise been an awkward silence.
“It is to me,” she told him. “We need to talk, Dylan.”
Again, he sighed, but this one was tinged with irritation.
“Look,” he said, “this isn’t a good time. I’m trying to get dinner. And thanks to my mother, Erin has a boatload of make-up work that needs to be done before school tomorrow. It isn’t a good time for you to be coming over here and disrupting Erin’s life—”
“I have no intention of disrupting anything,” Tess said, cutting in. It broke her heart to hear him talk of cooking dinner and helping with homework so mundanely when she’d never once had the opportunity to do such things for her daughter.
“Dylan...” The pleading in her voice was so thick, she had to stop.
All she wanted to do was make him understand. But if she were to simply blurt out the situation; that she’d been lied to, that she’d thought all these years that their baby was dead, that someone had committed a horrendous crime by stealing her child, he’d think she’d gone completely insane. She needed to see him face-to-face. She needed to tell him everything in a calm, rational manner. That was the only way to make him understand she was telling the truth.
Before she could speak, he said, “I want you to know that I won’t allow you to upset Erin. I don’t want you overwhelming her.”
“I understand,” she said. “I don’t want to overwhelm her, either.”
She’d never dream of causing her daughter one moment of worry or trouble.
“M-maybe,” she stumbled over her thoughts as they came at her, “it would be best if you and I met. Just to talk. To catch up.”
The third sigh he expelled was weary sounding.
“I told you, Tess. I’m in the middle of fixing dinner. And then there’s Erin’s schoolwork. I want to be here if she needs me.”
“Of course,” she quickly agreed. “But maybe after? There’s a coffee shop down the street from your garage. In the same building where my dad had his shop. We can talk there.”
“It’ll be at least two hours. And I don’t know if I can find a sitter.”
“I’ll wait,” she said in a rush.
She heard yet another exhalation.
“Please, Dylan. Please try.” She could think of nothing else to say except, “I’ll be waiting,” and then she gently hung up the phone.
Chapter Three
He wasn’t coming.
Absently Tess tapped the teaspoon against the palm of her hand. She glanced at the door of the small coffee shop for what surely must have been the millionth time.
Her eyes latched onto the large-faced clock behind the wide, white counter. Ten after nine. Nearly three hours had gone by since she’d called Dylan. Without thought, she raised her thumb to her mouth and searched nervously for a cuticle to worry.
He wasn’t coming.
But he wouldn’t not come. Would he? Not after the way she’d pleaded with him. Not when she’d just discovered—
“Here you go,” the waitress said softly, setting a tall, icy glass of lemonade in front of Tess. “This is on the house. You won’t sleep a wink tonight with all the coffee you’ve had.”
A shadowy smile of appreciation barely curled the corners of Tess’s mouth. Sliding the empty coffee mug away from her several inches, she murmured, “Thank you,” and reached for the glass.
“I wish you’d let me bring you something to eat,” the waitress said.
The concern she heard in the woman’s tone surprised Tess. She was a complete stranger to the waitress. Only in a town as small as Pine Meadow would total strangers take such an interest in another’s welfare, she thought.
“Thanks,” Tess said, noticing that the woman’s name tag identified her as Sue. “But I couldn’t eat a thing.”
Sue’s distress deepened into creases that marred her brow. “Are you sure you gave him the correct address? I mean, is there any chance he might have gone to some other coffee shop? There’s a diner on High Street,...”
This time Tess’s surprise had her mouth inching open, her eyes blinking.