His Surprise Son
Allie Pleiter
Mayor with a pastFaced with her son’s father!Mayor Jean Matrim’s plan to turn Matrimony Valley into a wedding destination is going swimmingly for the town—and disastrously for Jean. Their first bride’s stepbrother is Jean’s ex-fiancé…and the father of her son. Hiding Jonah’s existence from Josh Tyler wasn’t something Jean chose lightly. More stands between them now than ever before. Will the little boy be enough to bring them together at last?
Mayor with a past
Faced with her son’s father!
Mayor Jean Matrim’s plan to turn Matrimony Valley into a wedding destination is going swimmingly for the town—and disastrously for Jean. Their first bride’s stepbrother is Jean’s ex-fiancé...and the father of her son. Hiding Jonah’s existence from Josh Tyler wasn’t something Jean chose lightly. More stands between them now than ever before. Will the little boy be enough to bring them together at last?
ALLIE PLEITER, an award-winning author and RITA® Award finalist, writes both fiction and nonfiction. Her passion for knitting shows up in many of her books and all over her life. Entirely too fond of French macarons and lemon meringue pie, Allie spends her days writing books and avoiding housework. Allie grew up in Connecticut, holds a BS in speech from Northwestern University and lives near Chicago, Illinois.
Also By Allie Pleiter (#uf7516e7b-8d45-5ff2-9900-e6ef51831b73)
Love Inspired
Matrimony Valley
His Surprise Son
Blue Thorn Ranch
The Texas Rancher’s Return
Coming Home to Texas
The Texan’s Second Chance
The Bull Rider’s Homecoming
The Texas Rancher’s New Family
Lone Star Cowboy League: Boys Ranch
The Rancher’s Texas Twins
Lone Star Cowboy League
A Ranger for the Holidays
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
His Surprise Son
Allie Pleiter
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08430-7
HIS SURPRISE SON
© 2018 Alyse Stanko Pleiter
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“Did you ever really love me?”
“Yes,” Jean answered.
“And still you think I’d reject you and our child,” Josh said.
“Not reject. You’re brilliant, and captivated by your work, not me. I don’t even think you noticed how unhappy I was. You can’t be that way with Jonah.”
“It doesn’t change that I had a right to know. You had no right to keep this from me.”
“I accept that, but, Josh, am I really that far off? Do you know how many days you took off during the time I was with you? Three. You proposed to me on the front steps of your office building.”
“We were sharing our success together.”
“No. You were enjoying your success. I was just grafted in. Has it changed?”
“What do you mean?”
“Tell me, when’s the last time you took a vacation? I chose to give Jonah the gift of not being ignored or sidelined by a long-distance man too busy to be a father. That’s not a life for a child.”
Dear Reader (#uf7516e7b-8d45-5ff2-9900-e6ef51831b73),
I love restoration stories. It warms my heart to read of wrongs put right, gaps closed, hurts healed and broken hearts mended. There’s not enough of that in our world, is there? That’s where the power of story wields its greatest strength—reminding us of what could be.
I love reinvention stories, too. Second chances, new purposes and discovered gifts all make a powerful difference to my heart. Josh, Jean, Jonah and the whole town of Matrimony Valley inspire me to remember how nothing is ever truly lost from God’s view. Our Lord knows no lost causes—what better message could we hear?
I hope you’ll come back to Matrimony Valley to watch Kelly Nelson, the straight-talking town florist and Lulu’s devoted mother, get her own happy ending in the next Matrimony Valley series book coming soon.
Until then, remember that I’d love to hear from you at allie@alliepleiter.com, on social media (Instagram, Facebook and Twitter) and good old-fashioned mail at PO Box 7026, Villa Park, IL 60181.
Blessings,
Allie Pleiter
And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.
—Ephesians 4:32
To courageous moms
of special needs children everywhere.
Acknowledgments (#uf7516e7b-8d45-5ff2-9900-e6ef51831b73)
Special thanks to American Sign Language interpreter Kristine Orkin, NIC, DSPS, and to the friendly staff of Headwaters Outfitters Fly Fishing Adventures in Rosman, North Carolina. All of you were more than generous with your expertise. I hope I’ve done you proud and gotten the details of this story right.
Contents
Cover (#uddd7b627-1df7-53d5-acd0-7a091eba99e6)
Back Cover Text (#u7b9e966c-275c-543a-886a-e67a890dc35c)
About the Author (#uccd9311c-5761-574f-9817-172d361953c7)
Booklist (#u09d3448f-da9e-5236-8ecf-59e1d28ad00b)
Title Page (#u348d434c-0656-5b9b-80ef-3c43157ddcd2)
Copyright (#u13c77968-e65d-5aff-a234-da91da4fa38d)
Introduction (#uc3b0f14f-d275-5804-af41-14702a13af84)
Dear Reader (#ua82c8504-c5a2-56c6-b1db-8f471dce8c22)
Bible Verse (#ue23af9cd-90b2-5455-94fe-bdaff61e7605)
Dedication (#ucac0e32d-607d-541d-aa00-63e2bf97e09f)
Acknowledgments (#u4fde4d88-ce11-51e7-8689-99bfac840367)
Chapter One (#u3ed6ad7a-b617-5601-99f2-1cd9d9194cca)
Chapter Two (#u961f5741-d933-58ac-808b-7d1b3d066883)
Chapter Three (#ub3910cee-fd9d-5bf7-ab62-3b9bc1edc7be)
Chapter Four (#u1be7d43c-b505-54ea-8676-0d3e0e18eb15)
Chapter Five (#u32b0a3e1-1d2e-5a84-872e-c5673f7a2482)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#uf7516e7b-8d45-5ff2-9900-e6ef51831b73)
Here comes the bride.
For Jean Matrim, the arrival of Matrimony Valley’s first bride was a victory. She was looking at living, ready-to-walk-down-the-aisle proof that her long struggle to overhaul this town into a wedding destination was finally paying off.
Violet Thomas was going to be wowed if Jean had to call in every favor and spend every last ounce of energy to do it.
“You must be Violet,” Jean said with her best everything-is-going-to-be-wonderful smile. “Welcome to Matrimony Valley.”
North Carolina could be stunning in the spring, and the mountains were certainly showing off today. A clear sun dazzled through bright green leaves as they fluttered in the May breeze. The town was showing off, too. Front stoops sported potted plants. The sidewalks were swept, and many of the town’s main-street businesses sported new coats of paint and cheery signage. Jean had even convinced nearly every shop on the newly renamed “Aisle Avenue” to put a little pot of violets in its window to welcome the valley’s inaugural bride on her first visit. People had worked hard, and everything looked as charming as she’d hoped.
Violet certainly seemed to love it. “You must be Jean,” she gushed, looking around at the small town and then up to the clear blue sky with its adornment of fluffy clouds. “Look at this place. It’s just like I imagined.” Violet beckoned to someone inside the car. “Come out here and look at it, Josh. It’s perfect!”
Josh? Violet had listed her groom as navy captain Lyle Davis. She’d mentioned that Lyle wouldn’t be on furlough until just days before the wedding. So this Josh—an uncle, brother or such—must be helping with the arrangements.
A tall, dark-haired man with intense eyes opened the driver’s side door and stood up. At the sight of him, Jean was sure the Smoky Mountains behind her shifted a foot closer. The sight of this “Josh” pushed her so far off balance she nearly had to reach out and grab the car to stay steady.
Joshua Tyler stood in front of her. He still possessed the same powerful air of confidence she’d remembered, the same charisma that once drew her heart to his. Of all the people she never expected to set foot in Matrimony Valley, Josh topped the list.
Violet, oblivious to the shock wave going off in Jean’s chest, and likewise in Josh’s startled eyes, called him over. “Jean, this is my stepbrother, Josh. He isn’t only paying for a lot of this, but he’s giving me away at the ceremony. Right now, he’s a great stand-in for Lyle. We’ve only got Josh for forty-eight hours before business sweeps him away again, but we can cover a mile of ground in that time, can’t we?”
“A mile of ground,” Jean repeated, still scrambling to get a grip on how her past and future had just collided right in the middle of Aisle Avenue. Her first bride was Josh Tyler’s stepsister?
It can’t be. There had been a time when she was to be Mrs. Joshua Tyler, but life had steered her far away from those days. Of all the hurdles she’d jumped to turn this town around and launch Matrimony Valley’s destination wedding enterprise, a surprise like this certainly hadn’t entered the picture in her mind. Jean wasn’t even sure it entered the realm of possibility. Him? Here? Now?
Jean looked at Josh, searching for some hint as to how to handle what Violet clearly didn’t know. Josh only stared at her as wide-eyed as she stared at him. One thing was certain: right now was not the time to get into the long and complicated history Matrimony Valley’s mayor and chief wedding planner had with the man about to walk the town’s first bride down the aisle. Think, Jean. Be professional and keep this rolling. Deal with Josh later—keep your focus on Violet.
“Let’s start by checking in with Hailey,” she managed. “You’re staying at the Inn Love, aren’t you?”
“Of course we are. Oh, look at the street signs, Josh,” cooed Violet. “Aisle Avenue, Bouquet Lane—they’ve all got wedding names. Even the inn is called ‘Hailey’s Inn Love.’ Inn Love, get it? Wonderful.”
Josh was as handsome as the day she’d left him over five years ago. In fact, he’d aged phenomenally well, an assessment that sent up a poking finger of doubt into her not-so-phenomenally-aged stomach. She was fit, but she’d never fully regained the figure she had before Jonah was born. That never really bothered her until just this moment, when somehow Josh Tyler turned up looking even better than he had when they’d been together. The short span of years since they’d been engaged had fine-tuned his trademark confidence into the casual elegance of a sharp-dressed tycoon. Dashing, even. Seriously, was that fair?
Was any of this fair?
Lord, how could You do this? Today? To this wedding? To me?
Violet, bless her, still seemed oblivious as she pointed out the Aisle Avenue sign of the town’s primary road that used to be Main Street. “You’re already walking me down the aisle, Josh, get it?”
“On the Fourth of July, you can even parade down the Aisle,” Jean explained, salvaging her professional voice despite the box of fireworks going off underneath her ribs. “We’ll be doing that for the lieutenant governor’s daughter later this year. A whole patriotic red, white and blue wedding.”
Josh’s command faltered for a moment, and he rubbed the back of his neck. With the jolt of shared history, she remembered he always did that when unnerved. Unnerving? Yes, that certainly described the situation. “Why don’t I just grab some lunch while you two nail down the details?” he asked.
His voice. He’d always had a stunning voice—put to good use on the late-night shift of their college radio station. He’d stolen her heart with that voice, reading aloud to her under that huge pine tree on the west campus on warm summer nights. Back when the whole world spread before them. Back when she’d been a little lost and a lot reckless and...and now it had all come home to roost, as Dad would have said.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Violet’s objection pulled Jean from the shell shock of her thoughts. “You promised me you’d stick around and help. No laptop, no conference calls while you pretend to sneak off to lunch. For the next two days, you’re going to be my family, Josh Tyler, so get used to it.”
Despite his smooth demeanor, Josh shot her a split-second “now what do we do?” look. They both needed a way out of this until they could catch their breaths and figure out what to do. “Your stepbrother does look hungry, but Hailey’s dining room is closed right now.” She looked at Josh, willing her expression to convey “helpful professional.”
“Why don’t you stop over at Watson’s Diner for something if you like.” She pointed to the diner storefront a block away. “Wanda makes a great BLT.” She turned to Violet. “And there’s no Wi-Fi to tempt him.”
Violet laughed. “BLTs are his favorite. How’d you know?”
Not here, and not now. She shrugged. “I suppose you learn to be intuitive in this business.”
“I thought you said we were the first wedding in Matrimony Valley. I love that. Lyle and I are the first, aren’t we?”
“You most certainly are.” The whole town would pull out every stop to make Violet Tyler the happiest bride in Matrimony Valley history. Jean was going to make this work, whether or not Josh Tyler had just catapulted himself back into her life.
Into their life.
Jonah. It really has all come home to roost.
Violet pulled on Josh’s arm. “Look, Josh, that’s the path to where the waterfall is. I told you the minute I saw it on the video, I couldn’t imagine getting married anywhere else.”
There had been nights back in school when Jean would spend hours describing her tiny hometown in the Smoky Mountains to Josh, including the stunning waterfall where she always wanted to get married. Sure, it had been Matrim’s Valley back then, but how did Josh not figure out where he was going? Jean was glad Violet didn’t suggest they go look at the waterfall right now—she didn’t think she could stand in front of that waterfall anywhere near Josh Tyler right now.
“Let’s save that for tomorrow,” Jean quickly diverted. “Hailey’s ready with your catering details and I’ve only got an hour before I...” She stumbled for a split second, not ready to bring up Jonah, or even say his name in front of Josh. “...have a family commitment, but Yvonne at the bakery will talk to you after we’re done with Hailey.”
She watched Josh’s gaze flick to her left hand, and fought the urge to tuck the ringless hand into her pocket. His left hand bore no ring, either. So, a man she guessed to be one of Silicon Valley’s most eligible bachelors also hadn’t been snatched up yet. The fact lodged in her gut.
“I’ll go grab that sandwich and meet you at the inn,” Josh suggested, looking grateful for the out. “You want anything, Vi?”
“Wanda does an equally good tuna salad or grilled cheese,” Jean offered.
“Tuna,” Violet replied. “And then you get right back over here, Josh. If you’re helping pay for things, then I want you helping me decide things.”
Josh had never been destined for anything but success. Even during their time together in school and then out in California, he’d clearly been a rising star. But bright stars tended to obscure everything around them, and that shiny California life had grown complicated—and then soured—fast. How stunningly ironic that his business success now had a hand in funding hers, that her first big client came with her biggest regret in tow.
She watched Josh cross the street, feeling stunned and rattled. What on earth to do now? Dad had always called her The Queen of Solutions. But today, even Mayor Matrim, The Queen of Solutions, came up short. She hadn’t the slightest idea how to solve her newest, biggest dilemma: how to introduce Joshua Tyler to the son he didn’t know he had.
* * *
Jean Matrim.
Mayor Jean Matrim, and Violet’s wedding planner to boot.
Sometimes life took a swing at you that you never saw coming.
The woman behind the lunch counter at Watson’s Diner stared at Josh as if he were a science experiment, an oddity to be analyzed rather than a customer to be welcomed. As if asking for a BLT on wheat toast marked him as someone foreign and suspicious.
“We don’t do turkey bacon, you know,” she declared, even though he hadn’t asked for it. “We only do real food.”
“Big fan of real food myself,” he said, offering a smile she did not return. The woman grunted what he hoped was approval, after which they stood in awkward silence as the cook started to make his sandwich. There was no one else in the quiet place, and Josh wondered if Wanda could hear the fierce growl of his stomach as the sound of bacon frying filled the air.
“How long has Jean Matrim been mayor of Matrimony Valley?” he asked. Jean would be turning thirty next year, same as he—how’d she get to be mayor at such a young age?
“Well, now, that depends if you count the year Miss Jean was mayor of Matrim’s Valley. Before—” Wanda waved a dismissive hand “—all this business.” Wanda clearly saw no point in hiding her lack of enthusiasm for the town’s new identity, even to a customer. That might explain why Watson’s Diner seemed to be the only local business without a wedding-themed name.
“Well, all totaled, then.”
“Hasn’t even been two years.” Wanda drew herself up a bit. “My Wayne stepped in as mayor when her daddy first passed. Then she up and ran against him in the last election. Not too long after that she got the scheme in her head that turned us into...this other thing.”
“You’re not a fan of the whole Matrimony Valley campaign?”
“I’m a fan of staying in business, I give you that, but I can’t help thinking there could be a dozen other ways to do it than turning ourselves into the Las Vegas of the Smoky Mountains.”
Josh stifled a laugh at that. He’d been to half a dozen tech conventions in Vegas, and this valley was in no danger of giving that city a run for its money. “It’s a pretty place,” he offered, the urge to defend Jean rising up from some surprising long-ago part of him. “My stepsister Violet’s thrilled to be your first bride.”
Rather than offer a response, Wanda gave him a look that roughly translated to “I can just imagine” and hit the cash register key with a declarative finger. “Fries or chips?”
“Chips. And coffee. And everything to go, if you can.”
“Of course.” Wanda shouted, “To go, Wayne!” back to the cook, who barked “Okay” in return.
“Wayne and I, we’re no big fans of ‘to go,’ but that’s the way you young people all seem to eat these days. Next thing you know, Her Honor will be asking us to put in a drive-through window.” She nodded toward a rack of chip bags on the wall behind her. “Regular or barbecue?”
“Barbecue, thanks.” He probably shouldn’t inquire, and he suspected her answer, but Josh couldn’t stop himself from asking, “So do you think Mayor Matrim’s idea will work? Matrimony Valley?”
“Well,” she said after looking him up and down, “you’re here.”
I am indeed, Josh thought as he paid for his meal and accepted the white paper bag and foam coffee cup she handed him. What are the odds of that?
“I’m not knocking a single mother trying to make her way in the world, bless her heart,” Wanda went on. “I just think we didn’t have to turn ourselves inside out like this to survive. Matrim’s Valley has been here for three generations and survived its share of hard times without changing the name of everything in sight.”
Josh had taken two steps toward the door before he fully absorbed what she’d said: single mother.
Jean was a mother? She had said “family obligations,” hadn’t she?
It shouldn’t have surprised him—Jean had always been the type to want marriage and a family. She’d worked in a bridal shop all through college. She’d given an eager “yes” to his proposal. They’d planned on a family, eventually, once the business stopped eating his every waking moment. Things never got that far. And now she was a mother.
But a single mother. A barrage of questions rose up in his mind as he crossed the street back toward the inn. For a guy who made his living on the internet, he’d been way out of touch with college friends. Did she marry? Whom? When? And what had happened to end it?
It should have been him she married. Of course, he had no right to say that now, but there had been a time when he felt that way. They’d been madly in love back in college. His senior year, he’d been king of the world, watching everything in his life line up to launch him toward the stars with Jean beside him. Nothing was beyond his reach. His final semester was a blur of parties and congratulations and that one spectacular night spent with Jean reveling in his golden future.
Things went too far after that night—and they both knew it—but they would have been making a new life together in San Jose, so it hadn’t felt like a mistake. In truth, he’d thought that night marked the end of her second thoughts about joining him in California. He was so full of himself back then that he’d simply assumed he’d won her over.
She came to California, but she never really settled in. His relentless pace bothered her in ways it never had in school. She couldn’t seem to make friends, claiming Silicon Valley’s posturing grated on her down-home sensibilities. She grew so moody and distant that by the time news came of her father’s illness, they’d both used it as an excuse for her to disappear back east “just until things got better.”
They never did.
There were emails and phone calls, but the lapses grew longer as the flat-out scramble of a software start-up consumed his attention. He had always meant to call her but somehow never did. A part of him knew he’d have to face the wrong of that someday, he just didn’t count on it being here and now.
He’d gradually shut down his connection to her, telling himself Jean was never really the kind of woman to take to West Coast life. It wasn’t that he couldn’t find her—he was a brilliant man with a fortune in technology at his disposal—he just never managed to follow through. He’d let her slip from his life, telling himself he didn’t regret it.
Only he did regret it. And it felt like life was getting ready to show him how much.
Chapter Two (#uf7516e7b-8d45-5ff2-9900-e6ef51831b73)
Josh paced his room while he waited for his chief of operations, Matt Palmer, to respond to his text. He’d asked, “Can you video chat right now?”
His eyes wandered over to the Welcome to Matrimony Valley brochure lying on the nightstand. Smart but simple, it had a folksy appeal that people looking for this sort of place would probably love. Right down to the cheery welcome from “Mayor Matrim.”
A ding from his laptop announced Matt on the line, and Josh clicked open the video chat function to see Matt’s face. “How’s the brother-of-the-bride gig going?”
“Fine.”
“Color scheme going according to plan and all that stuff?”
Josh tried not to groan. “I don’t know. I think so. Violet’s getting what she wanted, and that’s what matters. She’s the boss, I’m just the bankroll.”
Matt made a face. “Aw. Will you do that for me?”
As Josh’s second-in-command at SymphoCync, Matt probably put in as many hours at the office as Josh. “I’ll take that one-in-a-million shot, sure. I really called you to help me untangle a...complication out here.”
Matt sat back in his chair. “What’s up?”
“Jean lives here. As a matter of fact, she doesn’t just live here, she’s the mayor here. She’s Vi’s wedding planner. She’s remade her hometown into this whole Matrimony Valley thing, and Violet’s her first bride.”
“Jean—wait, Jean your ex? Your ex-fiancée is mayor of Matrimony Valley? Whoa. Good thing this has no chance of getting awkward or anything.”
Josh gave Matt a look. “I knew I could count on you to be helpful.”
Matt shook his head. “Didn’t she live in some place named after her family or whatever?”
“She did. If it had stayed Matrim’s Valley, I might have seen this coming. As it was, it was all I could do to not trip over my own feet as we walked down Aisle Avenue in Matrimony Valley”
Matt kept laughing. “Aisle Avenue. Matrimony Valley. Seriously?” Matt wiped his hands down his face and attempted—rather unsuccessfully—to be serious. “So how’s Violet taking this new wrinkle?”
Josh picked at the tassel fringe of one of the pillows in the mound around him. “She doesn’t know. Jean and I...well, I think we hid our initial shock pretty well, and we’re sort of pretending it’s not there. She made like she didn’t know me, and I did the same.”
Matt gave Josh a dubious look. The man was a master of them. “You know that’s not gonna work, don’t you?”
“Of course I know that. But I don’t want to mess this up for Violet, either. She’ll get all weird about it, and believe me, she’s high-strung enough already with the wedding. I’ve just got to get Jean alone to hash out how we’re going to handle it.”
Josh saw Matt pivot to another corner of his desk and begin typing. “Matt, would you mind finishing with me before you look up Jean Matrim online?”
Matt paused. “Hey, I’m just looking up where you are in case I need to airlift you out of there.” After a second, he said, “Aw, look, there she is standing by the Welcome to Matrimony Valley sign.” Josh heard more tapping and yelled at himself for not paying closer attention to Violet’s plans before now. “She always was pretty,” Matt commented. “Looks like she’s held up better than you have. Little boy’s cute, too, in an aw-shucks kind of way.”
Josh picked up the brochure on the table beside him. The photo on it was just of Jean. “Little boy, huh? Someone told me she was a single mom, but I haven’t seen a photo of her child.”
“There’s a photo of her with her son on one of the website pages. Third tab, lower left corner.”
Josh swiped over from the video chat and pulled up MatrimonyValley.com, clicking through the website’s pages until he landed on the picture of Jean with her hand on the shoulder of a boy.
He was expecting a toddler, but the boy looked older than that. Five or six, if he had to guess. He stared at the boy.
A boy about six years old. Josh stared harder.
A ball of icy lead landed in his stomach and stayed there.
“Matt, I gotta go.”
* * *
Jean swallowed her exasperated sigh later that afternoon as she held the phone away from her ear. Her nerves were strung tight ever since the whopping surprise of Joshua Tyler’s arrival. Josh Tyler, here, in front of her, in front of everybody. Why, Lord? Why him? Now? No matter how many times she prayed with her questions, answers failed to arrive.
Thankfully, picking up Jonah from school gave her an excuse for a quick exit not too long after Violet was handed off to Hailey at the inn. She counted it as pure grace that she was able to exit before Josh came back across the street from Watson’s Diner.
Only being saved from Josh hadn’t saved her from Wanda Watson. The woman must have been looking out her diner window waiting for the office light to turn back on, because the phone rang not three minutes after she got herself and Jonah settled back into her office.
“Wanda, you met him.” Jean continued her attempts to appease the grumpy old woman. “He’s a nice person. Violet is a nice person. Her groom will be just as nice when you meet him. You’ll like the people who will come here to get married.” That felt like an outrageous promise to make—Wanda didn’t like lots of people. How did two sourpusses like Wanda and Wayne Watson ever manage a restaurant full of people all these years?
“I still don’t see what brides and grooms can do for sandwiches and meat loaf,” groused Wanda. “I don’t care what you say, not every business in town will benefit from your little scheme.”
It wasn’t a scheme, and it wasn’t little. “The man just bought a sandwich from you, didn’t he? Everybody’s got to eat,” she assured the woman. “The day before the wedding, the day after the wedding, the day they drive into town. Weddings and wedding guests mean business. For you as much as for Kelly’s flower shop or Yvonne’s bakery.”
“You’re banking an awful lot on this pipe dream, Your Honor.” Wanda’s harrumph practically spilled out of the phone receiver to douse Jean’s resolve.
Your Honor. Wanda never meant it as a term of respect whenever she said it. Jean put her elbow on her desk and rested her head in her hands while Wanda went on about some other complaint—the woman seemed to have a never-ending list of them.
Jonah looked up from his coloring sheet across the desk from her, catching his mother’s action and expression. “O-K?” The small fingers of his right hand formed the letters in sign language. His open hand moved toward his mouth, his thumb touching his chin in the sign for “Mom?” One little dark eyebrow furrowed in worried inquiry.
She smiled at him and made the sign for “fine” and “tired.” Then, with what she hoped was a playful smile, she added the sign for “hungry.”
“Me, too,” Jonah’s signs replied. His smile was as sweet as the grandfather he was named after. “Home soon?”
“I hope,” she signed in return, grateful Wanda couldn’t hear any of the conversation. “Our first bride is here for a visit, Wanda,” she said into the phone. “Let’s all welcome her the best we can.” They’d had some version of this conversation nearly every week since last fall, when the town council approved Jean’s proposal to change the town’s name and become a wedding destination.
Was it extreme to change the name of the town, the streets and half the businesses? It was, but so was the rate at which the tiny town was suffocating under a dying economy. Tobacco was long gone, the mills had slowed and then closed, and nothing had ever replaced them. Something had to be done before there was no town at all. Weddings were what she loved, what she knew, so when the idea came to her she ran with it. Because that’s what Matrims did.
Jean looked up at the portraits of her father and grandfather as Wanda droned on. I did what I had to do to make everything work out, Grandpa. Grandpa Jake had founded Matrim’s Valley in the early 1900s, opening up the textile mill that transformed the loose collection of mountain tobacco farms into a bustling mill town. He even became Matrim’s Valley’s first mayor. “Built his mill and this town out of sheer grit and an unwillingness to ever admit defeat,” Dad used to say of Grandpa Jake.
Her father, Jonah Matrim, had taken over the mill, and later the mayor’s office, not long after her mother’s death from an infection when Jean was in her teens. But even Matrim grit couldn’t outrun a failing economy, and eventually the mill had closed the summer Jean graduated and moved to California with Josh. Dad tried mightily to keep the valley together, but it was as if something inside him that had started to die when Mom did continued to die with the mill. As if his own health depended on the town’s. Her new residence clear across the country hadn’t helped, either.
Josh proposed the day SymphoCync officially opened its offices that July, and for a while they were happy. Still, Silicon Valley’s excess quickly began to taste sour in light of her beloved valley’s demise. Dad had given his all as Matrim’s Valley’s mayor, and here she was, thousands of miles away, doing nothing she could count as important. Her dad loved her, doted on her, needed her, while in San Jose she was fortunate to get fifteen minutes of Josh’s attention.
At first, Jean thought she was homesick. Or at least missing her dad. Dad and home called to her with a stronger and stronger voice until she finally went “for a good long visit.”
She never returned to California, even when she discovered she was pregnant. The life inside her seemed to give Dad hope, helping him to improve. Dad loved Jonah in a way Jean had come to doubt Josh ever could. Especially when he was born, and maybe more so when they learned Jonah couldn’t hear three months later. She never told Josh about his son, for reasons he’d now have to learn. Life was full of hard and painful choices. And even though such regrets drew her to finally discover the faith her father had, they still haunted her.
Failing health, like a failing economy, won out once more over Matrim grit. The pleasure Wanda’s husband, Wayne, took in stepping in as acting mayor when Dad’s health forced him to step down always bothered her. Still, with a toddler and an ailing father, it wasn’t as if she could do anything but thank Wayne for his willingness to serve.
Except that Wayne’s “service” had been a disaster. His single inept two-year term felt like one long stretch of everyone bickering while waiting around for things to get better. Someone needed to call a halt to the complaining and motivate people to do something. She was the last Matrim in Matrim’s Valley. So when she dreamed up a solution—a drastic one, yes, but a solution—she bolstered up her courage and ran for mayor on a “Matrimony Valley” platform.
It took a while and lots of convincing, but eventually enough of the valley voted to support her. It seemed if she was willing to go so far as to swap out her family’s name to give the valley a new chance at survival, everyone was willing to give it a try.
Well, almost everyone. “Did you hear me?” Wanda’s sharp tone startled Jean out of her thoughts.
“I’m sorry, Jonah was asking for something.”
Another snort of disapproval from Wanda. “A child playing in the mayor’s office. Honestly. Wayne never did that sort of thing.”
The “mayor’s office” had been Wayne’s idea, and consisted of a walled-off corner of the civic building that served as library, town hall, utility office and police station. I will not be the Matrim who lets this valley die on my watch. She would have liked to run the mayor’s office out of the front room of the Matrim family home like Dad and Grandpa did—it certainly would make life as a single mother easier—but Wanda had talked the council into keeping the “improvements” Wayne had implemented. And in all honesty, this office was the safest place for Jonah to be next to his own home. Everyone here looked out for him.
Dredging up her last shred of diplomacy, Jean offered, “Thank you for taking such good care of Mr. Tyler. You know, Violet mentioned her groom was looking for somewhere to hold a casual get-together for his groomsmen before the wedding. Should I tell her yours would be the best place to feed a bunch of navy sailors?”
Wanda’s tone softened. “I suppose I could manage that.”
That was likely as close to cooperation as Wanda would ever get, so Jean chose to take it. She put a smile on her face and gave Jonah a “thumbs-up” sign. He grinned and gave her one right back.
Jonah. The joy of her life. She wanted him to have a valley to come home to, just as she had. He was the reason she fought to keep all this family heritage up and running.
As Jean ended her call with Wanda and packed up the beautiful felted wool bag she used as her “mayoral briefcase,” she looked out the window. Tomorrow, she would deal with the tangle of Josh Tyler and how it might complicate the valley’s first wedding. She would find a way through this, because even though this was no longer Matrim’s Valley, she was still a Matrim.
So was Jonah. Taking her son’s hand, Jean and her son blew a kiss to her father’s and grandfather’s portraits as she led him out of the office. Lend me your strength, she pleaded to the men who’d served before her. As she headed out into the evening air, Jean sent the same prayer up to her heavenly Father, as well.
It shouldn’t have surprised her that Josh Tyler was standing in the middle of the street waiting for her. Patience had never been Josh’s strong suit. He stared long and hard at Jonah. Josh’s brain at full speed was an almost visible thing—his whole body nearly hummed with energy when his thoughts whirred into action. It had been one of the things that drew her to Josh, and it startled her that she could pick up on it so strongly after so many years had passed. It was as if her own heart could feel the chronological calculations going off like grenades in his head.
“Twenty-four Falls Lane,” she said to him, pointing down the avenue. “The house with the green shutters. He goes to sleep at eight, so come by at nine.”
“Jean...” he started to say, but she shook her head.
“No, not now.” She turned as quickly as she could, heading Jonah toward home, feeling the rush of history as strongly as the fierce current of the falls.
Chapter Three (#uf7516e7b-8d45-5ff2-9900-e6ef51831b73)
A soft knock came on her front door at 8:55 p.m.
She’d always known this day was coming. It had to come. Josh had a right to know he had a son, and Jonah had a right to know his father. She hadn’t been strong enough to face up to the situation back then, and she was sorry for that. But she was a different person now, a stronger woman. The question was, was Josh a different man?
Lord, I sure hope You know what You’re doing. I couldn’t feel less ready to do this, but I’m going to trust You. Guide my words. Guard his response. He’ll be angry. He has a right to be. But Josh is here, now, and I want to believe I’m strong enough to make this turn out okay for Jonah.
As she opened the door, his eyes told her immediately. He knew. Regret and remorse pushed down on her shoulders, a sudden weight that made her grieve over the choice she’d made back then to withhold word of Jonah from Josh.
Here we are. Stand, Jean. Stand and face it head-on. She could almost hear her father’s words from somewhere deep inside.
“Why don’t you come inside, Josh.”
He didn’t move. “Is he?”
She hadn’t expected him to blurt it out like that—as if the question hurled out of him beyond his control. Then again, she’d lived with the certainty for nearly six years, and he looked as if he’d lived with the possibility all of six minutes.
Jean pulled in a slow breath, gathering her strength and willing calm into her voice. “Come inside, Josh.”
He came through the doorway, stopping to stare at a photo of Jonah she kept on the hall table. It was one of her favorite photos of her son, bobbing up with glee out of the water at the swimming hole, all wild hair and bright eyes. Josh stared at it, hard, his whole body on edge. He picked up the photo. “Is he? Mine?”
How many years had she pondered her response to the huge moment that question was asked? “Yes, Josh, he’s ours.”
He held the photo up toward her. “Ours? He’s not ours, he’s yours. How could you sit there and call him ours if you never even bothered to tell me?”
“It’s complicated. Come into the kitchen and let’s sit down.”
He followed her into the kitchen, still clutching the photo. “I have a son. This boy...is...my son.” He turned in a slow circle, raking his free hand through his hair before he sank into one of the chairs at her kitchen table. Not because she’d asked him to sit down, she felt, but because the power of the moment wouldn’t allow him to stay standing.
“I’ve known I was going to have to tell you one day,” she said as she took the chair opposite him. “I just planned on having a bit more time to figure out how to do it right.”
“Right?” he snapped at her choice of words. “Doing it right would’ve been, how about—I don’t know—six years ago.”
“He is five. And I am sorry.” She owed him that much. She owed him an explanation and an apology for what she’d done, even though she doubted he’d accept it at the moment. “California was a mistake. We were caught up in something that wasn’t strong enough to last. We became different people once everything started for you out there.” That seemed true for him, from her perspective. Had she changed as well without realizing it? Or had Dad’s illness just realigned her priorities? “We weren’t ready to be married to each other, and not at all ready to be parents. Not the way your life worked out there.” You were consumed with work, she thought, but chose not to say.
“Are you kidding me? Everything was starting for us. You came out there with me. You said you’d marry me.”
“I loved you. I loved who you were in school, back when all the success was bright and shiny. Once it became reality—the twenty-hour workdays, the crazy social circles—you had to know that wasn’t ever really me, even back then. I knew I’d be alone. Married, but alone.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Maybe not, but when Dad got sick...the Josh I knew in school would have been worried and cared and asked me about how I felt. That wasn’t who you were when he got sick. You were too busy to care. I know you didn’t mean to be that way, but you were. And once I found out I was pregnant while back here...” She sighed. “I knew it wouldn’t work. You’d think you were capable of it all, of being there for everyone.” She ventured a glance into his angry eyes. “But all I wanted was someone who would be there just for me.”
“So sure of my faults, were you?” Josh’s words were cold and sharp.
She put her hand to her forehead. Give me better words, Lord. I can’t botch this. “Of course I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything except that I was unhappy. Dad was...I don’t know...sinking...and suddenly I had this baby to think of. Here you were, the son of this powerful judgmental father, and I was just this girl from a tiny town in the mountains. Then I got sick and Dad was getting worse, and...it seemed a better choice to stay here where I knew I had support than to be out there fighting for your attention.”
That last part seemed to bristle through him. “That’s what you think of me?”
Jean met his angry eyes. “Dad needed me here. You needed to be in California. I couldn’t be in both places.”
“So you decided how I’d react. And then you lied to me.” He squinted his eyes shut. “This isn’t how...this isn’t the you I remember... Did I even know you at all?”
“I accept that I hurt you in this. But making a go of it alone with Dad felt easier than having to beg you for time and attention.” She steeled herself to tell him all of it. “Or fight off your father’s idea of what should be done.”
She watched the words hit him, felt her spine stiffen as Josh stood up. “What do you mean, ‘my father’s idea of what should be done’?” The words were dark and dangerous.
She drew in a breath, willing the distance of the years to calm her words. “I don’t know how he found out,” she began.
He wasn’t interested in preamble. “What did he do, Jean?” The words were sharper and louder this time.
“He came here a month after Jonah was born. He offered me a great deal of money never to contact you. I think he worried that if you ever found out, we’d be in your life.” She’d never forget that afternoon when Bartholomew Tyler had shown up on her doorstep. The man was horrible. “He saw me—and Jonah—as beneath your potential. A liability best kept out of your life.”
Josh put his hand to his forehead. “Of course he did. It’s how Dad looked at everything.”
“It made him furious that I wouldn’t take the money, even though things were really tight then. But really, how could I live with myself if I had? He stomped out, swearing to find another way. A week later a very legal-looking document was delivered to our door, declaring I lacked the resources to properly care for someone like Jonah, and that he would sue for custody and have Jonah placed ‘in a suitable boarding school’ if I ever tried to let Jonah into your life.” She shivered, remembering the disgust in Bartholomew Tyler’s eyes—such a contrast to the loving way her own dad gazed at Jonah. “I think he wanted to make sure his faulty and illegitimate grandson was kept out of your shining future, and if I wouldn’t see to it, he would.” She made no attempt to keep the bitterness from her voice.
Josh drew both hands into fists and closed his eyes. “My father has been gone eighteen months. He died over a year ago. Why didn’t you contact me then?”
“I didn’t know he was gone.”
“You could have known. You would have known, if you’d just told me any of this. Five years, Jean. Five whole years.” Josh walked over and leaned up against the kitchen counter. Her heart ached for him—this was so much to take in all at once. Much of that had been her doing; she was paying the price right now for not telling him in all these five years, instead watching him stagger under the blow of the things she’d just revealed.
“I’d like to say I’m surprised at my father,” he said with a sigh. “I’m shocked, but not surprised. It sounds exactly like something old Barty would do.”
The force that was Bartholomew Tyler was part of what had made Josh the driven man he was, but it had such a dark side, too. Josh had grown up believing he was destined for greatness, but for his family, it was a binding obligation, not a vote of confidence.
“Your father never approved of me, you knew that. This just added fuel to the fire. We were welcome here, whereas we’d have to fight tooth and nail there. I was tired, still healing, and Dad was really starting to fail. It was looking like it would be his last Christmas. I’m not proud of how easy it was to throw up my hands in surrender.”
When Josh said nothing, she went on, determined to say what she felt ought to be said. “Jonah is not a liability. He’s not faulty, and he’s not an accident. He’s a gift.”
“A gift you hid from me.”
“Parenthood doesn’t work as a second priority. Jonah comes first in my world. He has to. Now, I suppose, you’ll need to decide if he’ll be anything more than on the fringes of yours.”
There was a long, raw moment where they didn’t look at each other. Josh walked back to the table and picked up the frame again.
“What’s he like?” The single question seemed to pierce through all the pain in the room.
She felt herself smile. “Curious and smart, like you. Stubborn, like his grandfather. Opinionated, like his mother.” She looked straight at him. “And deaf. Your son is deaf.”
* * *
Deaf.
Josh felt the word push at him, like a typhoon trying to knock him over. He, a man who made his career in an electronic music application that was lauded for how perfectly it worked, had a son who couldn’t hear.
The whole idea of Jonah’s existence was such foreign territory, Josh could barely get his head around the fact that he had a son. His entire body felt still and cold. His lungs couldn’t pull in enough air; his brain hurt from slamming together facts he had with possibilities he couldn’t grasp. He had not just a son, but one with needs he couldn’t begin to understand.
His thoughts whirled in a million directions as he tried to sort it all out. He stared at the photograph, somehow wanting the image to give him a foothold into the world he’d just entered.
It offered no grounding. As a matter of fact, it was a few moments before he realized he hadn’t given Jean any kind of response.
“He’s deaf.” Not exactly genius dialogue, but he was working in shock mode here—eloquence was far beyond him.
“Yes. Since birth.”
“So he can’t hear anything at all?”
She was watching him, waiting for his reaction. Josh wanted to get it right, to say and do the right thing at this incredibly crucial moment. Still, the idea of a deaf son—disjointed speech, hearing aids, isolated from communication the rest of the world took for granted—was all so overwhelmingly new. Suddenly, being introduced to Jonah presented ten times the test it had been minutes ago.
How do I meet and get to know someone I can’t even communicate with well? He wasn’t even especially good with kids. The path to Jonah’s silent world gaped like an impassable bridge.
Her eyes flashed just a bit at his hesitation, and he saw a glimpse of a mother’s fierce protection. “He’s not broken, Josh. He’s perfect the way he is, just different.” Her words and the jut of her chin dared him to try to pronounce otherwise. He didn’t think of the boy as broken—at least he didn’t think so—but he couldn’t sort through the riot of thoughts going on in his head right now.
“Jonah is profoundly deaf,” she went on. “Perhaps as a result of a high fever I had when I was pregnant—we don’t really know. When he wears his hearing aids, he can sense extremely loud noises, but not speech.” She paused just a moment as if guessing his next question. “Or music.”
He’d worked that out almost immediately, but the words had a stunning weight when he heard her speak them. My son cannot hear music. As ironies go, this one was huge and dramatic. Another realization hit him as hard as the first, and he stared deeply into her eyes. “Did you never tell me because you didn’t think I could handle his disability?” Direct, maybe, but Josh felt he was entitled to be direct given the circumstances.
She paused before answering. “I didn’t know he was deaf until he was three months old. It made things harder—especially when your father found out...”
“How did he know?” Josh started to shout, then remembered Jonah was upstairs asleep—then remembered Jonah was deaf—it was all tangling into knots inside his head. How was he supposed to act here? He didn’t have a clue.
“I told you, I don’t know how he found out. Does it really matter?”
“Yes,” he shot back. “No. I don’t know.”
“It made it easier to come up with reasons not to tell you.” When he shot her a look for that, she sighed and said, “You never had much patience for things that don’t work the way they’re supposed to.”
“Things,” he corrected, anger and betrayal churning in his gut. “Not people. I can’t believe the way you think I’d...” He stared at her before sinking back into the chair. “Did you ever really love me?”
“Yes.”
“And still you think I’d reject you and our child.” It stabbed at him that she could think such a thing.
“Not reject.” Her jaw worked, as if she was hunting for the right words. “You’re brilliant, and when you’re captivated by something, it’s astounding. I felt astounded by you in school.” She sighed. “But it was never about balance, Josh. I didn’t truly realize that until SymphoCync. You were captivated by work, not me. I don’t even think you noticed how unhappy I was. You can’t be that way with Jonah. Jonah requires—deserves—lots of attention and patience. I didn’t want to have to go begging for those things from you.” Evidently, her talent for prickling his temper by hitting too close to the bone hadn’t faded with the years.
“That’s not fair,” he retorted. But she wasn’t wrong. He hated the fact, but she wasn’t wrong. Silicon Valley, his valley, worshipped obsessive, workaholic people like him. Success out there demanded 150 percent of a man. He was just coming to recognize the cost of that—he was working on that with Violet now that she was the only family he had left—but he had a long way to go. “It doesn’t change that I had a right to know. You had no right to keep this from me.”
“I accept that, but Josh, am I really that far off? Do you know how many days you took off during the time I was out in California with you? Three. You proposed to me on the front steps of your office building.”
He planted his hands on the table, rocking it a bit with the force of his gesture. “We were sharing our success together.”
“No. You were enjoying your success. I was just grafted in. Has it changed?”
“What do you mean?”
“Tell me, when’s the last time you took a vacation? How many nights this week did you sleep at the office? Violet’s been telling me how hard it was to get you involved in this.” She looked right into his eyes. “I chose to give Jonah the gift of not being ignored or sidelined by a long-distance man too busy to be a father. That’s not a life for a child.”
“I loved you, and you kept this from me. You never gave me a chance to keep loving you. You let my father win.” The memory of what he felt for her rose up with a force just as strong as his freshly roused hate for his father.
“I believe you loved me,” she said, her voice soft, “but I don’t think you ever really knew what that meant. You thrilled me when you paid attention to me, Josh. But it was too rare. And I tried to tell you how unhappy I was, only you didn’t hear it. You never really acknowledged how sick Dad was getting. It made me realize I could never really be the center of your attention. And then I couldn’t risk that the baby wouldn’t be the center of yours, either. Or become some pawn of your father’s. So I chose what gave Jonah the best chance at happiness, and that’s here in our valley.”
Her accusations pulled at him like an undertow. “Were you ever going to tell Jonah? Or me? I mean, if I didn’t show up here today, would he or I ever have known who we are to each other?”
* * *
Who we are to each other. The words landed heavy with significance.
“I meant to,” she began. “Someday. I never set a deadline or anything, but I knew Jonah would eventually grow up and ask questions. I think I was waiting until Jonah showed signs of wanting to know.”
She rubbed her hands together. She’d always known this conversation would be hard, but in reality, it was excruciatingly painful. “That week, when one of your top engineers was out for a week with a sick child, do you remember what you said? You said families could be a distraction for a man bent on success.”
“We were late for a deadline. I was frustrated.”
“But even I could see it was how you felt. And really, isn’t it the only kind of fathering you’ve known?” Oh, Father, she prayed, seeing his expression, this is such a tangle. Only You can fix this for all of us.
“But Jean—five years?”
She didn’t have an answer for that, except to say, “Secrets get harder to reveal the longer they stay hidden. Dad always used to say we think they’re staying hidden, but they are really just piling up damage, gathering weight and pain to release when they come to light.” Gathering weight and pain. Oh, Dad, how right you were. How right you always were. “I wanted to be in a strong place when I told you. To be standing on my own two feet because I had no idea how you would react. I still don’t. Do you want a family—a real family, Josh?”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t classify what I had as a real family. I hardly remember Mom. I just know Dad and his weapons-grade wielding of expectations.”
She couldn’t argue with his assessment. Josh’s father had been alone since Josh’s mother died in a car accident when Josh was ten. He’d never remarried—until he met Violet’s mother sometime in the past five years. Bartholomew Tyler was the furthest thing from what she knew a father to be, the furthest thing from the loving acceptance she’d known from Dad.
“I could have helped,” Josh offered. “I would have helped. You had to know that. I can still help. I’ve got access to all kinds of technologies, adaptations...”
And there it was. Already. A glimpse of what she feared. “Helped?” she questioned. “Or tried to fix? This is exactly what I meant. You hurl solutions at a problem until it surrenders. That’s who you are, what makes you successful, but that’s not how to love a child like Jonah.” She picked up the frame and held it toward him. “We know what technologies are out there. We see a specialist in Charlotte twice a year. But Jonah isn’t a problem to solve, Josh. He’s a boy to love.”
“I get that.”
“Do you? Do you really?”
She got up and picked up an old little wind-up truck that sat on the counter. “Roma Tompkins—she owns the antique store in town—she gave this to Jonah for his first birthday.” She wound it up, and it made the wild buzzing that always made Jonah laugh. “It tickles his palms, and he laughs. His laugh is one of my favorite sounds in the world.”
She set the toy down in front of Josh. “It’s not slick or fancy or even new. But Jonah loves it. To you, it may look like Matrimony Valley may lack for a lot of things, but people here love us. For who we are. Can you do that?”
“I deserve the chance to try, don’t you think?”
Do you deserve the chance to break my son’s heart? she thought. I don’t know yet. “People here have learned sign language just so they can talk to Jonah. The church set up a class and all kinds of people came.” Jean remembered being moved to tears at the standing-room-only sessions. She may be a single mother, but she was never alone here. She knew, even then, that she’d have been far more alone surrounded by strangers in San Jose.
“The kindergarten teacher here has a sister who is deaf, so she’s fluent in sign language. He doesn’t need a special class or an interpreter—do you know what a blessing that is?” she went on. “Jonah finds a way to talk to everyone, and everyone manages to find a way to talk to him. He’s not lacking for anything, really.”
“Except a father,” Josh said, sounding as if someone had just pulled the rug out from underneath his perfectly engineered life. She supposed, in some way, that’s exactly what she’d just done.
“Jonah has a father,” she replied. “He’s just never had a daddy. Are you ready to change that?”
Chapter Four (#uf7516e7b-8d45-5ff2-9900-e6ef51831b73)
Josh stood next to his stepsister at the foot of “Matrimony Falls” the next morning. The site was as beautiful as Jean had described back on those starlit evenings lying on a blanket on the college lawn. As he stared at the sheets of water tumbling urgently down the endless staircase of stones, it was easy to see why she spoke of them with such awe. The gentle roar drowned out the whole world—not in the loud sense, but in the sense that it felt like a bastion of peace. Violet was right; there was something frozen in time about this place that made it an ideal setting to capture a milestone moment like getting married.
Still, the strange discord of being here with Jean Matrim, knowing what he knew now, challenged any real sense of peace. He’d barely slept after leaving Jean’s home, and he doubted she fared much better from the circles under her blue eyes.
“We’ll be the first to marry here?” Violet asked again.
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Jean replied. Josh marveled at how she was able to play it so cool when he fought the dizzying sensation of his world turning in loopy, tangled circles, of his past colliding with his present while staring down his future. “I’m sure you can see why local brides and grooms have chosen Matrim’s Falls for their ceremonies for years. You and Lyle, however, will be the first to tie the knot at the foot of Matrimony Falls.”
Violet beamed and offered Josh the love-struck smile she’d been giving him with every such comment since they arrived. It was sweet, in a slightly obsessive way, how taken she was with the place and the idea of being Matrimony Falls’ first official bride.
“You’ll be the first to use this lovely new gazebo built just for weddings, too. And the first bride to walk down that flagstone aisle.” She pointed to a path of carefully laid stones that wound its way between the two wooden platforms where he assumed the guest chairs would be placed. “God’s very own chapel of leaves,” she said.
Jean talked about her dad and grandpa spouting lines like that all the time. Neither Josh nor she had much time for spirituality back in school, and he still didn’t, but the tone behind her words and their conversation last night told him priorities had shifted for Jean. Didn’t everyone say becoming a parent did that to people?
One thing hadn’t changed: she was as beautiful as he remembered. The long blond hair that entranced him back in school was cut to a sensible crop just off her shoulders. The crazy, dangly earrings she’d favored were now replaced by small gold knots. She didn’t look old by any means, but she didn’t look young, either. Now a quiet grace filled her features. There had been a time when he felt he knew everything about her, but had he really? This morning it felt as if he knew next to nothing.
When would they get more time to talk about this? He was here for only forty-eight hours—and this felt like it would take weeks to untangle.
“It’s stunning,” Josh said, mostly for Violet’s sake, but the scenery really was breathtaking. If all these wedding-ready amenities were Jean’s doing, he was impressed. “You built all this up recently?”
“The whole town’s pitched in to create what we’ve got now,” Jean replied. “Rob Falston from the hardware store built the gazebo. Dave and Maureen Rodgers laid the flagstone aisle from stone their son gave them.” She gestured toward the falls. “Of course, no one takes credit for the natural beauty and atmosphere of Matrimony Falls—that’s God’s doing.” She leaned in. “But even God’s green grass can stain a white dress and be tricky in heels, so we added the stones.”
“See?” Violet smiled. “I told you Jean thinks of everything.” His sister held up the swatches of fabric—the wedding party’s colors—and the three lengths of ribbon the florist, Kelly, had given them yesterday. “See how it all works together, Josh?”
He could see that. He’d just grasped the full extent of it two meetings ago and had a whole lot of other things on his mind now. “Very pretty, Vi.”
Jean gave him a look that told him he hadn’t entirely hidden his level of distraction. “There are so many details to a wedding,” she commiserated. “It can get a bit overwhelming. We hope to add another wedding planner at the end of the year so that we can keep up the individualized attention to each bride as we grow. But you, as our first, get my full attention.”
Violet grinned even wider. Josh really was happy for her. They had only each other now, with the father they shared and both their mothers gone, so he wanted to help—logistically and financially. It was just that Jean and Jonah had completely blindsided him.
“Why don’t you go stand at the top of the aisle, Violet, and take in the view,” he suggested to his stepsister. “I always look out from the podium an hour before I give a big speech. It makes it feel familiar, and you’ll be less nervous when you stand there on your wedding day.”
“Great idea,” said Violet, who handed Josh her notebook and turned to walk up the aisle to the trellis that marked the bride’s entrance into the clearing.
When Violet was a dozen yards away, Josh took half a step closer to Jean. While still keeping his smiling gaze on his stepsister, he leaned in and said, “When can I see him?”
Her sigh was enormous. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? I’m his father. When can I see him?”
“Try to understand how difficult this is. You can’t just show up in his life, Josh. We need to think about this, figure out how to introduce you in a way Jonah can understand and cope with. He’s five years old. Most of this is way over his head.”
Josh ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation. I can’t believe I have to figure out a way to introduce myself to my own son.” He looked at her. “Have you said anything to Violet?”
“Of course not. Have you?”
“Are you kidding? I have no idea how to handle this. Or what to say, if anything.”
Violet came back down the aisle, then stood with one hand on her hip, her gaze tacking back and forth between him and Jean. “Okay,” she said slowly. “What’s going on here?”
Josh’s first thought was You’d have to be blind and deaf not to see what’s going on here, but now that felt like a terrible, tasteless thought to have. “Um... Vi, I...”
Jean took charge of the conversation. “The truth is, Violet, that your brother and I have...a bit of a history.”
Violet’s eyes popped open wider. “What kind of history?”
“In college. After. We were...together.” And the award for colossal oversimplification goes to...
“You and Mayor Jean?” Violet’s eyes opened wider, if that was possible. “Wait...wait, she’s that Jean? Wow. What are the odds?”
“I’ve been asking myself that for the past eighteen hours,” Josh replied.
“You know,” Violet said, “I think I’ll just head on back to Kelly at the flower shop and go over these colors again. Or order more centerpieces. Leave you two kids to settle things.” Being three years older than Violet, Josh took issue with the “you two kids” remark, but not enough to say anything.
“Do whatever makes you happy,” he told his stepsister.
“Or takes a lot of time,” she added, smirking. “Remember we’ve got lunch reservations to taste the entrées at eleven thirty.” Violet looked at Jean. “You’re welcome to join us, you know. I expect you could tell me a few great stories about my stepbrother here.”
Her suggestion would take the awkward level off the charts, and Josh wondered if Violet didn’t realize that, or simply didn’t care.
“You’re sweet to offer, Violet, but I’m sure Hailey can take perfect care of you.”
“See you at lunch, then,” Josh said with tightly forced cheer. Violet would have a long list of questions, surely none of which he knew how to answer quite yet.
“Bye.” Violet took one last look at them as she started on the path that led back to town. “You. Two. In college. Wow.”
Josh heard Jean push out a breath just as he released his own exhale once she was out of sight. “Wow indeed.” He took a step toward Jean. “I mean it, though. We’re only here until tomorrow afternoon. You’ve got to let me meet him.”
Jean leaned against the gazebo. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I think it’s best if he meets you without knowing who you are just yet. He needs time to adjust to the situation. I can barely handle it as it is, much less find the right way to explain it to him on short notice.” She looked up at him. “Can you handle that? Meeting him first as Josh Tyler, brother of the bride, instead of Long-Lost Dad?”
Long-Lost Dad. Words Josh still couldn’t believe applied to him. The list of ways he felt unready to be a father could fill a phone book at the moment. He ran his hand down his face. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. But how do I...speak to him? Or him to me?”
“The same way lots of people do—through me.” She waved her hand in a silent “hello.”
“And some things are universal. A smile, a wave, a handshake—” she brightened with a sudden idea “—or a milkshake. Why don’t you meet us at Marvin’s ice-cream parlor at two thirty?”
“I can do that.” He couldn’t not do that—no way was he leaving Matrimony Valley without meeting Jonah, even if it had to be under forced and not-entirely-forthright circumstances.
“Do you want to tell Violet about Jonah?”
“No. Not yet. Not until I have my head around this. I’m hoping there’s a way to not let the wedding get all weird because of this.”
Jean gave a tense laugh. “I know this is hard. For both of us. But I’d like to think we can avoid messing this up for Violet. Or for anyone. Violet’s wedding needs to be perfect for a lot of reasons bigger than you and me and Jonah.”
“I get that.”
Her eyes met his. “I can’t believe I didn’t put this together earlier. She’d mentioned a brother Josh more than once, and I saw your name on a form somewhere. I remember thinking, ‘Isn’t that a funny coincidence?’ I never dreamed...”
“Me neither.”
“I know what Dad would say.” Her gaze cast back to the waterfall spilling behind them.
“What’s that?”
“That there are no coincidences. Only ways God surprises us.”
He hadn’t set foot in a church since Dad’s funeral—and it had felt cold and foreign that day, despite Violet’s very friendly congregation. “Well,” he replied, “count me surprised.”
* * *
Jean held tight to Jonah’s hand as they walked down the street. She squeezed his hand three times—their private signal for “I love you”—as they walked, and her heart pinched as her son gave three squeezes back. Her mind cast back to the final day Jonah came to visit Dad in the hospital, and how he kept squeezing his grandfather’s hand three times. The moment Dad wasn’t aware enough to squeeze in reply still ranked as one of the most heartbreaking moments in all of Dad’s passing. Tears stung her eyes just thinking about it now.
She tugged gently on Jonah’s hand to get his attention, then pointed to her friend Kelly Nelson’s Love in Bloom Flower Shop.
“Stop and see Lulu’s mom?” she signed to Jonah. She didn’t really need to settle any floral details for Violet’s wedding, but she needed to talk out what was happening with Kelly.
Jonah raised his eyebrows and made the sign for “cookie?” in reply.
Kelly often kept a stash of goodies for her daughter, Lulu, and Jonah to share at the shop. “Maybe one.” She held up a single finger as she led Josh toward the door.
“Hello, you two!” Kelly said, setting a vase on the counter. “Good timing—I just put a fresh pot of coffee on.” She looked down at Jonah, signing, “Lulu’s at a friend’s, but I still have cookies.”
Jonah’s head bobbed in a “yes” that needed no translation.
“Can we set out a few coloring pages with those, Kelly?” Jean asked. “I need to talk.”
Kelly raised a questioning eyebrow. “Oh. I see.” She waved Jean and Jonah toward her work area in the back of the shop. “Maybe I should get out my stash of chocolate croissants from the bakery? Has it been that kind of day already?” she called over her shoulder as she pulled out cookies, crayons and the stack of coloring books she always kept to keep customers’ children occupied. “Our first bride looks pretty happy to me. And that brother of hers—quite the handsome fellow.”
Everyone always noticed Josh. He effortlessly commanded a room back then, and it wasn’t any different now. “No croissants. I’d eat a dozen. But I won’t turn down coffee.” Best to just spit it out while Jonah was occupied. Jean slipped onto one of a pair of stools after settling Jonah at the end of a smaller table. “It’s actually the brother I need to talk about.”
“The brother?” Kelly came back with two steaming cups of coffee and slipped onto the stool opposite Jean. “Isn’t it usually brides who cause the trouble?”
The scent of Kelly’s cinnamon coffee felt like just what she needed. Well, that and an hour’s conversation. She’d be grateful for twenty minutes if Jonah didn’t start getting antsy. “This problem isn’t wedding related. Well, not directly.”
Kelly took a sip of coffee while she sorted through some stems of luscious white roses. “Meaning?”
Just say it. You need someone else on the planet to know. With a quick glance to make sure Jonah’s attention was on the cookies and crayons, she unnecessarily whispered, “That brother, Joshua Tyler, is Jonah’s father.”
Kelly nearly dropped the bouquet. “What?”
“Our bride’s stepbrother is the man I was engaged to when I came back. He is Jonah’s biological father.”
Kelly scowled. “And he hasn’t shown up before today?”
“That’s because he hasn’t known about Jonah until today. It’s...complicated.”
Kelly’s gaze shifted between Jonah and Jean. “You mean to tell me that somehow Jonah’s father showed up in Matrimony Valley as the brother of our first bride? Without knowing you were here?”
Kelly’s sense of astonishment felt comforting. The situation really did merit the overwhelming shock Jean had been feeling since Joshua Tyler got out of that car yesterday.
Had it really been only yesterday?
“Sounds outrageous, doesn’t it?”
“Unbelievable. Did you...tell him? Did he meet Jonah?”
“I told him. He worked it out before I told him. It’s not a big reach for a brilliant engineer to count to five. And there is a resemblance.”
At just that moment, Jonah looked up at her, and there it was—Josh in his eyes. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen it before, but it seemed to shout at her right now. “Juice?” he signed.
“Sure, sweetie,” Kelly signed back, hopping up from her stool to fetch a juice box from next to the buckets of flowers in the shop cooler. “How’d he take the news?” she asked.
“How anyone would take discovering they were a father after you’d hid it from him for five years.” She’d hid it from everyone—well, everyone except Bartholomew Tyler and Dad—and the weight of that secret caught up with her now. She could no longer be sure it had been the right decision. Had she protected Jonah from rejection? Or deprived him of his father?
“So, not well.” Kelly returned to her stool.
“I don’t really know. He was more shocked than angry, I think. He’s asked to meet Jonah. In thirty minutes, actually.”
“Are you ready? Is he ready?”
Jean felt her face heat up with the threat of surprising tears. “Of course I’m not ready. I know Josh’s surprise was ten times the size of mine, but I’m still reeling. I’ve thought about this since the day I learned I was pregnant. I thought I was preparing myself, but this is all too fast. I’ve decided Jonah will meet him as Violet’s brother for now. It’s not perfect, but I don’t want Jonah’s heart broken if Josh doesn’t stay in his life. And I don’t trust Josh to stay in his life—at least not yet.” She let her head fall into her hands. “Why did this have to happen now?”
“You’ve maxed out your drama quotient, I’ll give you that.” Kelly leaned over the table, nodding toward Jonah. “So he doesn’t know.”
“No. I’ve told you a bit about what Josh was like when we were in California. I can’t bring myself to set Jonah’s hopes up for something he may not have in the end.”
“I know things weren’t good when you were out there, but could he have helped? Been involved? I mean, the guy’s helping his sister get married. He’s got to be a stand-up guy in some respects if he’s here doing that.”
“Stepsister,” Jean corrected. “They don’t have the same last name. That’s why I never connected the dots on this.”
“Well, sure. I mean, who would think? There have to be thousands of Josh Tylers in the world.” Kelly cleaned leaves off the rose stems. “But he shows up here, now.” She offered Jean a sympathetic smile. “You sure you don’t want a croissant? I’d need three.”
The tiny laugh that escaped Jean made this feel like the first lighthearted moment since this whole tense day began. “No. This and your sympathy are fine. And your discretion. I can’t let this get out—at least not yet.”
Kelly put a hand to her chest. “Cross my heart. Wow. I mean, really wow. It’s crazy. But it could be crazy good, right?”
“Or crazy bad. Josh was a workaholic in the third degree then. I can’t believe that’s changed much. He lived life at a hundred miles an hour back when we were together, and I got left in the wake. I don’t have any faith he can be a good influence on Jonah.” She swirled her spoon in the rich brew. “I’ve got to be really careful.” She considered telling Kelly about Bartholomew’s cruel offer, but opted against it. Why complicate an already complicated situation with a dead man’s cruelty that no longer mattered? “Most of the reasons I had for keeping this from Josh haven’t changed. Only now I’ve got to find a way to live with the fact that he knows.”
Kelly narrowed her eyes at Jean, wiggling the scissors in her hand. “You don’t still... I mean...there’s nothing between you two after all this time, is there?”
Jean put her coffee down with enough force to spill a bit, and Jonah looked up. “Absolutely not!”
“Okay,” Kelly said. “Just asking. He looks rich and handsome.”
Jean gave Kelly a look.
“...And he’s a jerk. We don’t like him or trust him. Got it.”
“I don’t know him, Kelly. I kept out of his life. I wasn’t the kind of person who could stand up to him then. So I just shut down that part of my history.”
“You didn’t look him up on the internet now and then? Weren’t curious who he turned out to be? I’d be cyberstalking the guy if I were you.”
“Dad got sick, and my attention had to be here.” That wasn’t anywhere near a complete answer, and she was glad Kelly didn’t press the point.
Jonah finished coloring one page and began leafing through the book to find another, humming to himself in the strange, off-key rhythm of his that Jean always found so fascinating. How did humming feel when you couldn’t hear it?
I don’t regret the way I brought him up. I don’t regret my choice. I left because I knew what I might want would never stand up against Josh’s big plans. But now that it’s come back to face me like this, I’m filled with fears and doubts, Lord. I need way more wisdom than I have. I need Dad, and he’s not here. You can be my guide here, can’t You, Lord?
“How are you letting them meet?” Kelly’s question pulled Jean from her silent plea.
“Not as father and son, like I said. None of us are ready for that.”
“So how do you do that?” Kelly asked.
“Milkshakes.”
“Milkshakes?”
“Marvin’s. At two thirty. It was the best I could do on a moment’s notice.”
“Well,” replied Kelly, returning the now-full vase to the cooler. “It’s as good a plan as any, I suppose. We’d better start praying now, and I don’t intend to stop all afternoon.”
Jean hugged Kelly. “Thanks. I’ll need it.”
Chapter Five (#uf7516e7b-8d45-5ff2-9900-e6ef51831b73)
Marvin’s Sweet Hearts Ice Cream Parlor looked frozen in time, as if Josh were on some midcentury movie set. Most of the “old-fashioned” ice-cream parlors he’d seen were shops dolled up to look nostalgic. This was nostalgia—and not by design, but by definition: the drugstore soda fountain, right down to the black-and-white floors and the red vinyl counter stools.
“What’ll it be?” asked the grandfather-aged guy in a white apron behind the counter, his scoop at the ready.
“Oh, give me a minute or two—I’m waiting for someone.” He nodded toward Violet, who was out front on a park bench sharing her entrée decision with Lyle on the phone. He was grateful the groom had called; he needed a minute to collect himself before Jean and Jonah walked through the door. He was going to have to tell Vi at some point, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it just yet, and the multiple levels of weird happening at this “innocent” meeting had him spinning like a hamster wheel. I’m about to meet my son. But not as his father. And I don’t know how to talk to him. I’m dying here, how do I do this?
His own father gave him nothing to go on—their last few conversations had all been arguments, and he wasn’t exactly swimming in happy father-and-son memories. Josh didn’t know anything about being a father, except that he didn’t want to be like his father. Jean had always talked lovingly about her dad. She had a model to work from, and it seemed Jonah had the advantage of a loving grandfather. Don’t muck that up, his gut told him. Try not to undo all the good Jonah’s had. Only...how?
Violet hung up with Lyle, a dreamy-eyed smile lighting her face as she pulled open the shop door. She looked around, the same “is this place for real?” wonder he’d felt upon entering visible in her expression. “Don’t you love it?” she continued. “It’s like some fifties movie.”
The guy behind the counter chuckled. “I get that a lot.” His face brightened. “Hey, you’re our bride, aren’t you?”
Violet beamed. “I am.”
“Well, sugar, your shake’s on the house, then. This the lucky groom?”
“No,” said Josh and Violet at the same time.
“He’s my brother,” Violet explained. “My husband-to-be is in the navy, and he’ll get leave just before the wedding. Until then, Josh is a stand-in and helper. We’re meeting Mayor Jean and her son in a few minutes.”
“Jonah,” said the man, whose classic plastic name tag identified him as Marvin himself. “Sweet kid. I made sure ‘which flavor’ were the first words I learned to sign, you know?” Marvin demonstrated as he spoke. “Well, that and ‘chocolate,’ since I knew that’d be his answer.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/allie-pleiter/his-surprise-son/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.