Her Sister's Secret Son

Dylan nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he’s a fighter.”

Sunny trotted up. Nose to nose, the big dog and the little one got acquainted. “Sunny adopted the pups,” Dylan explained.

The new pup broke away to explore, sniffing at the long grass, darting into the pansies and coming out with yellow pollen on its black nose. When the pup started to dig, Rachel picked it up. “Oh no, you don’t,” she scolded, laughing when a silky pink tongue licked her thumb.

A moment later, she set him down at a safe distance, and the curious pup found another patch of flowers.

Dylan promptly named the puppy “Digger.”

Rachel gave a resigned sigh. Despite all his promises—“not to get attached”—Dylan had given each puppy a name, which Rachel knew would only make it harder when the new owners came to take them away in the next week. There was Bear and Tony and Cindy and Cookie and Pepper—and now Digger.

Just then, a car pulled up, and a rough-looking man got out. “Sign says you got dogs,” he said. “I need a good watchdog. Are they going to be big?”

Jared said, “Small to medium-size.” He didn’t like the man’s attitude and was tempted to send him on his way.

Rachel beat him to it. “I’m sorry, they’re all taken.”

The man nodded toward Digger. “What about that one?”

Rachel scooped up the puppy. “We’re keeping him.”

At that, Dylan grinned from ear to ear. Jared just stood there as a slow smile crept over his face. Damned if she hadn’t surprised him. So Rachel had a heart—she was just afraid of losing it—but under the right conditions, she would take a risk and “get attached.”

After the man left in a huff, Dylan threw his arms around Rachel. “Thanks, Mom!” The boy was obviously delighted, and Jared could see why. Rachel was the kind of mother any boy would love, which only made Jared’s dilemma worse.

Rachel was conscious of Jared’s undivided attention. He warmed her with a smile that she imagined meant approval.

“I’ll have to send more of my patients to you for some TLC.”

“No, thanks, I think we’ve met our quota.” Rachel set the puppy on the ground. “Supper is in one hour,” she called after Dylan as he ran off with Sunny and the pup trailing behind.

She turned back to Jared. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

When he accepted, she hid her pleasure. The feeling came from deep inside, a warm tide, like a well that couldn’t be emptied. He followed her into the house.

Her voice even, she said, “How’s business?”

“Things are slow. We’ve got one in-patient, a turtle with an infected shell. He’s on antibiotics. The ferrets went home last week. However, there is a prize pregnant cow that’s gone past her delivery date.”

A laugh escaped her. “Sounds promising.”

He grinned back. “Could be twins—that would mean a bonus.”

“One would hope.” Disarmed by his humor, Rachel relaxed her guard. He obviously liked children—he was saving turtles and owls. How dangerous could he be?

Jared looked around the small front hall with its neat coatrack. Curious about the way she and Dylan lived, he felt like a fraud, a man on a mission to uncover the past. A narrow flight of stairs wound its way upward on the right; and to the left, an arched door opened into the cozy living room. Dominated by shades of yellow accented by pale greens and blues, the room was filled with plants. A partially finished jigsaw puzzle took up most of the coffee table. Tropical fish swam companionably in a fish tank. The glass sparkled. “Nice,” he said, taking in the bright atmosphere, slowly absorbing the meaning. Home.

Aware of the breathless quality of her voice, Rachel said, “The kitchen’s through here.” Why had she weakened and invited him inside? Now, she didn’t know what to do with him. She reached into a cupboard. If only she had instant coffee…but all she had was regular ground.

While he wandered around, looking at Dylan’s drawings displayed on the refrigerator door, Rachel measured coffee grounds and water. It took a while for things to percolate. She wasn’t sure what they talked about, but eventually the coffee was done. She reached for her mother’s fine cups and saucers—thin china decorated with cabbage roses, etched in gold, and breakable. They weren’t valuable—except to Rachel. In fact, she usually reserved them for very special occasions. Feeling bemused at the realization, she stopped, then firmly reached for a pair of solid earthenware mugs.

She poured coffee. “Sugar, cream?”

“Yes, please.”

Rachel joined him at the round wooden table. Set in a cozy alcove, it suddenly felt much cozier. She lifted her cup to her lips, and took a cautious sip.

He took a swallow, lifted an eyebrow. “This isn’t bad.”

“What did you expect?” She needed to lighten the atmosphere, which had grown oddly heavy.

“Not a great cup of coffee,” he countered with an easy careless smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Rachel suspected a lot of things came easily to Jared Carlisle, perhaps too easily. “I’d almost forgotten,” she said, searching for a safe neutral topic. “Earlier, you said you wanted to discuss something.”

At the reminder, Jared hesitated. “It was nothing important,” he said at last. He’d almost forgotten his mission. Was he prepared to reveal his suspicions?

His gaze returned to the drawings on the refrigerator. He could remember his own mother displaying his childish artwork. He supposed that’s what mothers did. Funny, how he’d forgotten that. But he’d never forgotten coming home from school one day and finding her gone—and no one pinned his drawings up anymore. At the time, he was seven years old, not much younger than Dylan. All these years later, he still felt a pang of regret. A boy needed a mother. Jared knew firsthand how it felt to lose one. If Dylan was his son, Rachel was part of the package.

Turning away from that troubling thought, trying to sound casual, he said, “Raising a young boy on your own can’t be easy. Have you always been responsible for Dylan?”

Suddenly the focus of all his attention, Rachel cautiously reached for her own cup. “Yes.” The cup was warm. She wrapped her fingers around it. Nevertheless, his next words sent a chill up her arm—straight to her heart.

“What about Laurel?”

Her mouth tightened. “What do you want to know?”

He cleared his throat. “Where was she?”

Rachel took a moment before answering. “After Dylan was born, Laurel was very unhappy. She needed to get away.”

“So she left Dylan?”

“She left him with me. She came to see him whenever she could.” She added a few details.

Jared learned that Rachel’s aunt and uncle had been wonderful; they’d helped her finish college. She’d taken advantage of on-campus daycare while attending classes. Apparently she’d had no social life. Although Jared didn’t discover anything new about Dylan, he learned that Rachel had sacrificed her youth for the boy. She didn’t seem to realize how unusual that was.

With each question, he watched her withdraw further and further. He felt like an interrogator…like an unfeeling brute pulling the wings off a fragile butterfly. And for what? So that he could take Dylan from her?

Before making a move, Jared needed to get acquainted with the boy, to lessen the shock when it came—to know whether this odd tenuous bond he felt with this child was real, or all in his mind—or his heart.

Jared glanced at his watch. “I should be going, I’ve still got other cases.” He pushed away from the table. He had to see Rachel again—for more than the obvious reasons. “Thanks for the coffee. Maybe we could do this again.”

“Mmm,” was her noncommittal response. She collected the used mugs, then set them in the sink.

As far as refusals went, hers left Jared with no room to argue. He’d heard Rachel use the same tone with Dylan, which didn’t do much for a man’s ego. Of course, his masculine ego wasn’t at stake here…was it?

Over the next week or so, a green pickup truck could be seen parked in Rachel’s driveway with enough regularity to start tongues wagging. One day, when Mary Ellen wasn’t available to stay with Dylan, her mother volunteered to fill in. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” Rachel asked when she dropped him off in the morning.