The Child Who Rescued Christmas

His remorse seemed genuine, but it did little to ease her sense of betrayal. “Sorry that it happened or sorry that you told me?”

He didn’t have to explain, her little voice pointed out. He could have simply let the story stand that they were old friends who’d reconnected during a class reunion. You’d still never know …

“There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t feel regret for my actions,” he said, meeting her gaze. “That’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life.”

The pain in his eyes wasn’t feigned; she recognized that. Unfortunately, his revelation made her question so many things. Had he really wanted to marry her, or had he only asked her because he’d found his courage in the bottom of a bottle?

How many other secrets had he kept from her? He probably had many, because there were so many personal topics he refused to discuss.

And yet, technically, they had severed their relationship, which meant he hadn’t been required to answer to her. No vows had been broken at the time he and Ruth …

But it still hurt to know that he’d fallen into bed with another woman so quickly. Granted, the alcohol and his own anger had contributed to his decision, but still …

Although the truth weighed heavily, she had to give credit where it was due. He’d been a faithful husband for the past three years and he’d been honest when he could have kept this secret forever and no one would have ever known. Yet he’d taken the risk and apologized profusely rather than simply brush off the incident.

Emotionally, she wanted to bristle and remain angry, but logically the incident was over and done with. Walking away from him because of one relatively ancient mistake committed when they’d been separated suggested her love must be terribly shallow if she couldn’t forgive and forget.

“Sara?” he asked tentatively.

She exhaled a long, drawn-out sigh and offered a tremulous smile. “As disappointed as I am, as betrayed as I feel, even though some would say I shouldn’t, I can’t change the past. We’ll leave it there, shall we?”

“Unfortunately, there’s more,” he said.

“More?” she asked, incredulous. “What more can there be? Isn’t this friendship you had—” she chose that word instead of “affair” because she didn’t know if a one-night stand fit the true definition “—the reason why she wanted you to look after her child?”

He didn’t answer at first. “Sara,” he said softly, “Brody is thirty months old. His second birthday came during the first part of April.”

“Yes, you already told me.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do the math.”

She did. Then, with a sinking heart, she knew. The apology on his face confirmed it.

“Oh. My. God. He’s your son, too.”

If Sara’s face had revealed her shock before, now Cole only saw horror. From her sudden intake of breath, the oxygen in the room had vanished with the news, just as it had when Parker Maitland had delivered the same bombshell to him a few hours ago. This news had knocked his world off its axis, just as it had for his wife.

Eternity had only lasted forty-eight hours.

An unholy dread had filled him from that moment on because he would have to explain the inexplicable to Sara. His confession had crushed her, just as he’d suspected it would, and, just as he’d feared, the light in her eyes had faded. Already she stared at him as if he’d become someone she didn’t know.

How ironic to be in this position. After spending his entire life always weighing his options and plotting his course carefully to avoid potential pitfalls, the one time he’d acted impulsively would haunt him for ever.

Oh, he could have ended this earlier without Sara ever being the wiser. He could have told the lawyer that he didn’t want to raise Ruth’s son—and his—and all this would have vanished like morning mist on a hot summer day. Yet he couldn’t build one lie upon another, no matter how enticing the idea was. Untruths always had a tendency to be revealed.

“You had a baby with this Ruth person.”

She sounded dazed, much as he had when he’d heard the news. “Apparently so.”

“Are you certain? I mean, if she slept with you at your reunion, she might have spent time with someone else, too.”

Her faith in him was bittersweet and only made him feel worse than he already did. He, too, had posed the question, hoping there’d been some misunderstanding, but the possibility had died an instant death after Maitland had presented him with undeniable proof.

“She didn’t,” he assured her, hating to destroy her hopes but understanding how the possibility was a lifeline for her to grab—a lifeline that their life wouldn’t be turned upside down so easily. “Maitland gave me a picture of the boy. There’s a strong … family resemblance.”

It was more than a resemblance. The phrase “chip off the old block” came to mind. If he compared photos of himself at that age, he’d think his image had been cut and pasted into a scene from today.

“And she wants you to look after her—your—child.”

From past experience, Cole knew that Sara’s reserved tone was merely a smoke screen, especially given the words she’d chosen. Her. Your child. Underneath her deadly calm was a churning cauldron of emotions held in check by sheer force of will. Cole would have rather seen her yell, scream or throw things, instead of seeing her so controlled.

“She wants us to look after him,” he corrected. “She wanted Brody to have two parents, not one.”

As she sat frozen, Cole hastened to continue. “Apparently, Ruth knew the situation would be … difficult … which was why she left a letter for you to read.”

He dug in the manila envelope Maitland had given him and placed the small sealed white envelope that bore Sara’s name in front of her. Next to it, he positioned Brody’s photograph so that those impish dark brown eyes were facing her.

Sara didn’t move to accept the envelope or glance at the picture.

“Ruth rightly believed you would play an important role in Brody’s upbringing, which is why she stipulated that you also had to agree to take him.”

“And if I don’t?”

He paused, torn between wanting her to refuse and hoping she’d accept the challenge ahead of them. “Then the search will begin for different parents,” he said evenly. “According to Maitland, Ruth hoped that wouldn’t happen.

He and his wife, Eloise, were Ruth’s neighbors and they knew how much she worried about Brody going into the same foster-care system she had.”

“If they knew Ruth so well, why didn’t she appoint them as his substitute parents?”

“Parker is sixty-nine and Eloise is sixty-seven. As much as they love Brody, it isn’t feasible for them to parent a child at their age.” Parker had told him that he and Ruth had discussed this scenario and they’d both agreed that Brody needed younger parents who would conceivably give him siblings as well as live long enough to see him through high school and college.

“Where is he now?”

“He’s with Maitland and his wife at a hotel.” He paused. “Parker invited us to stop by at our convenience tonight. However, he did mention that Brody usually goes to bed at eight and with all the commotion of the past few days, he’s been a little cranky if he stays up later than that.”

The silence in the room became deafening and Cole watched helplessly as Sara rubbed her forehead with a shaky hand. “I don’t know what to say,” she murmured. “I’m tempted to believe I’m dreaming, that this is just an elaborate hoax or a misunderstanding.”

“I know how you feel, but this …” he fingered the photo “… proves otherwise.”

He stared at the snapshot lying on the table, picking out the facial features that seemed to be carbon copies of his own—coal-black hair, dimples, a straight nose and lopsided grin. Yet, even with the proof before him, he was still hardly able to accept that he had a son.

A son.

While he’d been willing to add to their family—someday in the future—knowing he had a son now was mind-boggling. It was one thing to feel guilty about his one-night stand, but quite another to know a child had resulted. He didn’t know if he felt happy or sad, disappointed or excited, but he’d sort through those emotions later. At this moment, the reality had to be addressed, which was, namely, would they accept Brody into their home, or would Brody enter the same state-run children’s services that Ruth had loathed?

He simply couldn’t go against Ruth’s wishes, but her way was filled with pitfalls. Having grown up in a situation where he hadn’t been wanted, he’d always vowed to keep some sort of “escape clause” in his relationships, which was why he’d had so much trouble making a commitment to Sara. But now, if he accepted Ruth’s child, his son, there would be no escape. If he intended to do this, he had to do so with the intent of being in it for the long haul.

This, at least, was the same decision he’d made before he’d proposed. And that had worked out, hadn’t it? he told himself.