Chapter 8

No, he did not. Shane saw his child. His and Allison’s child. A child he had not known existed for nearly ten years.

Ten years!

Like he’d been sucker-punched, his stomach clenched, and he stared at her, his vision blurring. “When did you know?” he finally asked. “B-before I left?”

“I had just found out for sure. I…I went to a drugstore three towns over to buy a test. I was so afraid someone would recognize me and tell Pop.”

Still holding the photo of Lizzie, his Lizzie, his daughter, Shane wandered back to the living room and sat down on the sofa. Shaking his head, he struggled to accept the truth, to understand why he was just finding this out now.

“You should have told me. I would never have left you. We would have gotten married. I would have raised my daughter.”

She followed him. “I was seventeen years old, scared and confused with no clue how to really handle the situation. I wanted to tell you! I tried, that night before you left, when we met at the lake, but you wouldn’t listen. You only had one thing on your mind.”

He understood her sarcasm, because yeah, he remembered. Remembered being scared someone from the Potter clan was lurking nearby, waiting to take a potshot at him. Remembered just wanting to hold Allison, because he knew it would be a long time before he held her again. It had turned out to be a lot longer than either one of them had ever imagined.

“I remember you wanted to talk, and I wanted to do anything but, because I knew we were going to be separated. I wanted to tell you I was leaving, but I couldn’t risk your safety. I didn’t want to leave you. Can you forgive me because I did?”

She dropped the afghan from her shoulders and crouched in front of him, putting her hands over his so they both held the picture of their daughter. “I guess I’ve made my own mistakes. Maybe I need forgiving as much as you do.” She rubbed his hands, her skin cold against his. “In my heart, I know you would have stayed, if I’d had a chance to tell you, but maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe something awful would have happened. I couldn’t have stood that.”

Early dawn crept through the farmhouse, and her chilled hands trembled over his. Soon the sun would come up, making things much clearer than in the dark hours of the night, but for right now, Allison needed warming.

Shane set the picture aside and eased her up to sit by him. He pulled the afghan from the floor and wrapped it around her while she rested her head on his shoulder, and he snuggled her into the curve of his arm. The wildflower scent of her hair drifted over him, and the feel of her body, like a familiar drug, lulled his senses. Dear God, he never wanted to be free from this feeling again.

After a while, she relaxed against him, and soon her breathing became soft and even. Leaning back into the sofa, he held her close and protected, something he had not done when he should have ten years ago. Until the sky began to lighten, he just let her sleep while he thought about all the years and all the time he had missed with Allison…and their daughter.

****

O’Malley’s Bar and Grill wasn’t much different from what he remembered. Shane gave a cursory glance at the five o’clock crowd before finding an empty seat at the bar and ordering whatever was on tap. The last time he’d been in O’Malley’s, he hadn’t been old enough to drink. Well, at least not legally. Matthew had bought him a meal here the night before he’d boarded the bus for Wyoming. Sitting in a booth in the far corner, they’d discussed the plan—how Shane would take the first bus out the following morning, where he would have to change buses, and what to do once he reached Cheyenne. He’d listened, while he ate like a man taking his last meal. Then he’d gone to see Allison.

How differently things might have all turned out if she’d only told him. If only he’d let her.

Regrets are of little use. Something his grandmother used to say. It’s what you do going forward that matters.

How would they go forward from here? What she’d told him in the wee hours of the morning still had him rocking in his boots, and he hadn’t a clue how to deal with it. One minute, he was mad as hell she’d kept him from being a father to his child for nine years. The next, he wanted to kick himself for being such an ass and not coming back even after she’d married Jason. But none of that did a lick of good in figuring out how to come to terms with the situation. Hell, he didn’t even know if she would let him be a father now. Didn’t even begin to know how they’d explain this all to Lizzie.

He’d left Allison’s house while she still slept on the sofa, and there’d been a full day of farm calls plus a few hours at the clinic. He still had to go back and check on a dog the local rescue group had brought in with a broken leg.

He’d sandwiched in a trip to the hospital, where he found Matthew still in ICU. Seeing the old man in such sad shape gave him a shot of reality, not unlike the last time he’d visited his grandmother, the night before she passed away. His life had changed then, and not for the good, but meeting Doc had kept him from going down many bad roads. In truth, he owed Matthew Brewster his life.

What would happen, how would he handle it, if his mentor didn’t recover?

According to the nurse, it was still watch and wait, but waiting was not something he did easily, patience definitely not one of his virtues.

Yet, wait was about all he could do right now. That, and drink his beer.

Harry set the amber mug down in front of him. He quickly lifted it and took a long, slow drink.

The wiry Irishman watched him with a careful eye. “Looks like you’ve had a long day. Being one of the big animal vets in the county isn’t easy. No wonder Doc Brewster wore his ticker out. Heard any more how he’s doing?”

Shane wiped the foam from his upper lip and thought about draining the rest of the mug in one gulp. He set it back down instead. “I stopped at the hospital, but there’s been no change. Sandy said his niece is on her way here tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she wants to be around if the old guy croaks. I don’t recall she’s ever come back since they moved out of state, but let somebody look like they’re dyin’ and the family hightails it back in a jiffy.”

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” a red-haired waitress commented as she picked up her order. “We shouldn’t give up on Doc just yet. He’s a tough old bird.”

Very true.

A farmer a few barstools down spoke up. “Even if he does pull through, who knows if he’ll be able to keep working. We still might have to find us another vet. The one from South County sure can’t cover all this territory. Good thing we haven’t needed anybody this week.”

“Somebody’s supposed to cover for Doc, but I haven’t heard who and sure ain’t seen him yet,” another gruff voice added.

Glancing sideways, Shane recognized Big Bob Anderson and Ruben Tucker in their coveralls. Their sons, Tim and Lucas, had played football when he and Jason did, and Big Bob had been a cohort of Jack Delaney’s. Apparently, he didn’t know Shane was covering for Doc Brewster, or realize it was him sitting five seats down. He hoped Harry didn’t share that bit of news right now.

The possibility disappeared when someone called for a refill, and Harry limped away. Tilting his hat down to shadow his face, Shane tipped back another gulp of beer. The last thing he wanted right now was to deal with any of these local yokels. He should probably just finish his beer and leave.

He’d taken the last swig when Harry came back, towel slung over his stooped shoulder, a twinkle in his Irish eyes. As if he’d sensed Shane’s discomfort, he jerked his head toward the back of the bar. “Booth just emptied out. Go on back, and I’ll bring you that burger I promised.”

He hesitated only briefly. Might as well take Harry up on his offer, otherwise dinner would be the can of ravioli he’d seen in Doc’s cupboard.

Shane walked to the rear of the place, and slid into the booth, glad it took him away from the rest of the crowd. The burger arrived, delivered by Harry himself. He plunked it and a basket of fries before him, adding a ketchup bottle he snagged from another table.

“Thanks. Smells really good, too, or maybe I’m just starving.”

The Irishman beamed. “We been voted ‘best bar burgers in town’ two years in a row,” he bragged. “You go on and enjoy, but before you leave, I got something to tell you, something about what maybe happened to Allison’s car the other night.”

He furrowed his brows in concern. What did the old bartender know? Were Allison and Lizzie in any danger?

The idea set his pulse to thumping. Whatever it was, he needed to find out. He paused before he whacked the ketchup bottle over his fries. “Whatever you know, I’d like to hear it.”

“Be back in a couple minutes. You eat up.”

He did, while keeping a wary watch on the rest of the bar patrons. Many of them he didn’t recognize at all, a few brought back memories of his life here in Silver Creek ten years ago. The people who’d brought their pets into the clinic the last few days were all new to him and had been pleasant enough to deal with, but that wasn’t the case with the likes of Big Bob and Ruben. From the sound of it, they were still a couple of loudmouths whose opinions were the only ones that mattered. He wondered what Tim and Lucas were up to. Had they gone into farming, too? Or found a different life far from Silver Creek?

He just finished eating when Harry found a moment to slide into the seat across from him. “Feel better now?”

Shane nodded. “Yep, best burger I’ve had in a long time.” He wadded up his napkin and tossed it into the empty basket. “Now, you had something to tell me?” He folded his arms on the table and leaned in closer.

The Irishman glanced behind him to make sure no one was within earshot. “Remember you asked me to let you know if I recalled seeing anyone hanging around on the street the other night, when Allison’s tire went flat?”

“I did. Did you see something?”

“Not outside, but must have been around half past nine they came in here, the Potter brothers. They’d already had more than a few and were in their usual rowdy mood. They weren’t too happy when I refused to serve them. I don’t need the sheriff comin’ down on my establishment for serving someone who’s already intoxicated.”

Where’s Harry going with this story? “Did they leave then?” he prompted.

“Not right off. They sat back here and played the video game ‘til I guess they ran out of money. Then one of their cousins came in and joined them.”

“Was it Red?” Shane remembered him well. He was pretty sure he’d been the one who shot the window out on his truck.

The gray head nodded. “They carried on, getting louder and obnoxious, and I finally told Mike, my bouncer, to get ‘em out of here.”

“Excuse me, Harry, but what has this to do with Allison?” Fatigue from the long day, and worry over what he’d learned from her, started to tug at him, leaving him suddenly impatient.

“I’m gettin’ to it,” the old man insisted and grabbed the empty burger basket. “Just before Mike showed ‘em the door, I think I heard one of ‘em, mention her name. Something about ‘had it coming to her’ or ‘she deserved it.’ Didn’t think much of it at the time, but then after we talked, it came back to me.”

Yeah, he could picture the Potters, acting like the scumbags they were. For them to say Allison’s name, let alone threaten her, made him burn inside.

He plucked a toothpick from a holder on the table and stuck it in his mouth, flipping it to the corner. “What do you suppose they meant? What would she deserve?”

Harry shrugged, then turned when he heard his name called from the bar. “Be there in a minute,” he snapped. To Shane he added, “I don’t know, but could be they’d messed with her vehicle. Think you ought to tell her? It’s a little scary, her living out there all alone with her little girl.” The Irishman got up when the waitress yelled his name again. “I just thought you should know.”

Shane nodded his appreciation and motioned for him to go take care of his customers. He watched the old guy hobble off, wondering why the Potters would have it in for Allison? She was afraid of them; he’d sensed it in the store last week.

He took the toothpick from his mouth and snapped it in two, thinking how he’d like to do the same to those two creeps. What had been going on here before he’d driven back into the life he was sure he’d left behind?