The Sergeant's Secret Son

He must feel the pull between them. But he’s only going to be in town for a few days, she reminded herself. She wouldn’t let herself fall for him again.

She’d always thought of Alex as a larger-than-life figure, caring nothing about anything except himself and duty. Now she wondered. She’d always seen Alex as a hero, but she’d never thought of him as a genuine, three-dimensional man. Especially when she hadn’t heard from him for five long years.

Now his actions told a different story. But, Macy reminded herself, she couldn’t consider getting to know him better until she figured out how to tell Alex about…him.

She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Not as long as they had any secrets between them. And wow, did she have a doozy.

THE SUN was sinking low in the sky, and the balmy, early autumn air had taken on a real crispness. Looping his hammer over a pocket opening, Block stopped a moment to appreciate the sight of the sun as it descended toward the horizon, streaking the clouds with orange and rose as it went. He dragged his gaze from the setting sun and set his mind to the job at hand. He had only a few more shingles to place, and he didn’t want to be caught by darkness before he was finished.

The last of Macy’s patients had pulled out of the parking lot, and the staff were leaving, one by one. He thought about this old building as he hammered the last shingle into place. When he was growing up, only the most well-off could afford to come here. He’d never been inside until last night. Judging from the assortment of patients he’d seen waiting earlier, things had changed. Changed a lot. Used to be the folks that lived on the wrong side of the railroad spur wouldn’t dare come over here unless they had cold, hard cash.

Yet last night and today he had seen people working together who would have never as much as offered the time of day to each other a few years ago. Had the town he’d tried so hard to forget changed while he was away?

Or had only his perceptions changed?

A door slammed, and he looked down to see Macy heading for her car. Block’s first thought was to tease her about her long day, but her shoulders drooped and her steps dragged, and he knew that her weariness wasn’t a joke. For that matter, neither was his.

“Goodbye, Macy,” he called.

She looked up suddenly as if he’d startled her out of her thoughts. “Oh, Alex. Don’t you think you should come down before it’s too dark to see?”

Block grinned. “I just have to knock in a couple more nails and I’m done. I’m right behind you.”

She sent him a weary smile. “You be careful,” she said. “I don’t need to be called back to tend to you tonight. All I can think about right now is supper and about ten hours in bed.”

Macy might not have realized how tantalizing that notion was, but Block did. He could think of nothing better than a night in bed with a willing woman to help relax him. No, not any woman. Macy. Who had haunted his dreams for the past five years.

But even he knew that tonight was not going to be the night. Macy had looked dead on her feet as she’d all but collapsed into her car.

But tomorrow would be another day.

He pulled a couple more roofing nails out of his pocket, set them into place, and finished the job.

NOT ONLY did Macy have sleeping on her mind as she drove home to collect her son, but she had a lot of thinking to do. So far, Alex hadn’t realized that Cory was hers. Or if he had, he didn’t care.

And somehow she knew the man who’d been so kind and helpful today would care. Of course, the fact that she had a son might not be an issue to him. It was that other fact, the one that only she knew, that would really matter—and matter a great deal.

In the meantime she breathed a grateful sigh that her long day was over as she pulled up in front of her house. Any other day she might linger and chat with Willadean, but today all she could think of was getting Cory home before Alex returned.

And he could be mere minutes behind her.

She shut off the engine, climbed wearily out of the car and turned toward Willadean’s little house. She trudged up the porch steps and wondered how she’d mustered up the energy to do that much.

Macy rapped gently on the door and stepped inside. The smell of something delicious greeted her nose, and her mouth watered. She followed the aroma into the kitchen. Willadean stood at the stove stirring a steaming pot, and Cory sat in his booster chair, a steaming bowl of something in front of him.

They hadn’t noticed her, so Macy took a moment to gather her thoughts then pasted a saccharine smile on her face and breezed in. “How are my two favorite people?” she said with false cheer.

Cory swiveled around in his chair and grinned. “Mama, the ’frigerator thawded out, and me ’n’ Gramma hadda make soup so everything wouldn’t spoil!” he said excitedly.

Macy kissed Cory on the top of his head. “Eat up, son, so we can go.”

Willadean turned. “What’s the hurry?” she asked. “Sit down, child, and have some soup before you go home. You look plumb wore out.”

How Macy wished she could accept Willadean’s invitation, but she was too weary to deal with anything more complicated than one small boy tonight. Any confrontations with Alex would have to wait.

And as far as Macy was concerned, the longer, the better.

“Cory and I checked your refrigerator and cleaned it out, so you made a donation to this soup, too.”

“Thank you, Willadean, but I’m so tired, I don’t think I have the energy to eat.” She rubbed her gritty and tired eyes. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just take Cory out of your way, and get on home.”

Willadean shook her head, tut-tutting as she ladled some soup into a quart Mason jar. “Won’t take no time at all to eat some soup, but if you just got your heart set on going home, the least I can do is send some soup home with you. I’d never be able to live with myself if you died of starvation in your sleep when I had all this food over here.” She screwed the lid on top, wrapped the jar with a couple of dish towels, and put it in a plastic bag.

“Thank you,” Macy said, accepting the bag. Funny, saying thank you was getting easier by the minute. Too bad she hadn’t managed to thank Alex. “Alex came by the clinic today and not only fixed the shingles on the roof, but made sure I had lunch, too.” She smiled, remembering the way he’d made an appointment to see that she ate.

“That’s my boy. I wondered where he was all day,” Willadean said. “At least he had something to keep himself busy. That man’s been too restless the last couple of days. I don’t think he’s very happy with the idea of having to set down at a desk even if recruitin’ is good, decent work. You know that man’d rather be in the thick of things than settin’ on the outside, watchin’.”

“Yes, ma’am. I know,” Macy said. That’s what she was afraid of. She covered a yawn with her hand. “Come on, Cory, Mama’s tired.”

Cory scooped up more soup, then grabbed a handful of crackers and shoved them into his mouth and pushed out of the chair at the same time. “Okay, Mama, I’m ready,” he said, his mouth full.

Macy smiled. Little boys were so dear. “Let’s go, son.”

“What’s funny, Mama?” Cory said, skipping along behind her as they left Willadean’s house.

“Nothing,” Macy said. “I’m just happy to have you. You are my favorite son, you know,” she said, hurrying across the yard.

“That’s silly, Mama. I’m the onliest one.”

Macy trudged up the three steps to the wide front porch and pulled her keys from her pocket. “And one of you is plenty,” she said, goosing him till he giggled. Then she unlocked the door, and he scampered inside.

As she flipped on the inside light and set the soup on a table, she wondered if the mail had run today. She didn’t know why she cared. The only things it seemed to bring these days were bills, but she might as well look.

“I’m going out to the mailbox, Cory,” she called and turned back to the road. As she hurried down the walk, she caught a flash of headlights coming around the corner. That surely must be Alex.

Had her trip to the mailbox been for mail, or had it really been because she’d hoped to catch another glimpse of Alex? Macy shrugged. Did it really matter?

Block pulled up behind the ancient Buick in front of his grandmother’s house and sat there a moment, thinking.

Funny, he had no conscious memory of crossing the railroad spur that had so effectively divided the town when he was growing up. Then, it had seemed like a barrier as solid as The Great Wall of China. Even the air on the “other” side of town had once seemed cleaner, clearer, freer. Then, when a car rumbled over the tracks, the shaking had seemed like a rude reminder that he’d better be on his best behavior. Hell, he hadn’t even noticed as much as a shimmy. Today, that side of town had seemed no different than this old familiar neighborhood.

Was disaster the great equalizer?

Maybe he had changed.

Block let out a low, long breath and looked around. Lights shone, warm and friendly, from most of the houses surrounding Gramma’s just as they always had this time of day. He saw the warm glow of a lamp in one house, the blue flicker of a television screen from another; sights that were so familiar, yet at this moment seemed so alien.

He’d been back only a few days, but he almost felt as though he belonged here. When had Lyndonville, South Carolina, started to feel comfortable? When had it started to feel like home?

He smiled and locked the car. Maybe being back in Lyndonville wasn’t so bad after all.

He spotted Macy at her mailbox, and it surprised him that she had settled into her Aunt Earnestine’s house. He’d assumed she had moved into a modern apartment on the new side of town, but she was here, and that was fine with him. He waved, and she waved back. He supposed, though, that she had college loans to repay, so she couldn’t be choosy.

“It turned out to be a pretty nice day, wouldn’t you say?” he called, not at all comfortable with idle talk, but for some reason, wanting to prolong the moment. Macy Jackson and he weren’t exactly in the same league, her being a doctor and all, but she wasn’t hard to look at.

“Yes, I guess so, considering the storm,” Macy replied, turning toward the house.

“Well, see ya,” Block said, then headed for Gramma’s. And, he thought, as he loped up the steps, two at a time, to the front porch, the best part was that Macy was here. Maybe this time, the time would be right for them.

Remembering the skinny, big-eyed girl who used to beg him and C.J. to let her join their secret boy adventures, he had to chuckle. Who would have thought that Macy Jackson would grow up to be such an interesting woman? And such a beauty! That scrawny duckling had turned into quite a swan!

And he knew from personal experience that her serious, professional demeanor hid a very sensuous side. Remembering the kiss in Macy’s office, he had to smile. Maybe with the very nicely grown-up Macy around, Lyndonville wouldn’t be such a bad place.

He was a grown man, he’d gotten an education, he knew his place in the world. Well…he used to know it. But, he figured he could use the next two years, assuming he got the recruiting job, to get his head on straight and figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. And where.

As he stepped inside, interested in little more than a hot shower and a belly full of food, he had to smile. Maybe his future wasn’t so bleak, after all. Maybe he could make this recruiter job work.

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