Jake’s safety. So far neither of them had dared mention his name. “You said he was with someone you trust.” She couldn’t keep the bite out of her voice.
“He’s downstairs in the cafeteria with Art and Nancy.”
“Who are they?” She barely controlled her rising panic.
“They’ll take care of him.” Steel undergirded the defensiveness in Johanna’s reply.
She stared at the woman, trying to assess her ability to make that kind of judgment. She knew about Johanna’s past, how she’d made a sorry mess of her life.
A new fear assaulted her before she could finish analyzing the old one. “Do you think Jeff recognized him?”
“I think we should assume the worst. I should have burned those letters. I just thought that one day you might want them—”
“Why would I?”
“So you could prove you hadn’t really abandoned him.” Johanna’s hot retort scorched her guilty conscience.
Had she abandoned her child? Should she have kept him? Was he really safer without her? Had she lied to herself all these years? Maybe she let him go because life would be easier without him. She killed the thought before it had time to take hold. Life hadn’t been easy since the day she found out she was pregnant.
Johanna was about to comment further, but the door opened. Pierce entered the room with a boy. She drew in a deep breath that nearly punctured her lungs.
Johanna held out her hand to the boy. He took hers without hesitation. “This is Jake.”
His pictures had not portrayed his reality. He was a handsome mixture of Peyton’s father, Jacob Chandler, and Jake’s biological father, Cory Powell, a man she hoped never to see again as long as she lived. Her son had the same sandy brown hair and slate gray eyes as the Powell men. The striking resemblance was more than she could bear.
She wanted to reach out to him—to embrace him. She wanted to confess to him who she was and how much she loved him. Her intense inspection must have seemed strange to him, because his face registered confusion. She tried to modify her reaction—make it more pleasant and nurse-like.
She dragged her gaze away from her son and addressed Johanna. “Well, I wish you well in your recovery.” She attempted using her professional voice, but the comment fell on the floor with a thud.
She turned on her heel and left the room. As soon as she reached the empty stairwell, she leaned against the cold, gray walls—her insides churning. She hoped she wouldn’t throw up before she got to the ladies room.
****
Peyton stood in front of her post office box, clutching a letter addressed in Johanna’s handwriting. The postmark read Ouray. So Johanna hadn’t moved. There were only a few reasons Johanna would write so soon. This had to be good news. She tore the envelope open and read the short note.
The man has disappeared. J.
He didn’t just leave. He disappeared . Jeff had vanished from the ranch. It could mean he had moved on or it could mean he was in Durango. No matter. Jeff was away from Jake. That’s all that counted. She shuddered and glanced over her shoulder.
Would Jeff tell his father where Peyton was? She rubbed the back of her wristwatch as if to massage the scar underneath. It had taken years for her to overcome the psychological damage Mason Osborne had done to her. She would never return to Austin. She would rather die than meet Mason again. She didn’t regret running away from him, but she did regret not being there when he discovered she had taken her two-day-old baby and ran with Johanna to Albuquerque where Johanna’s parents lived. He’d caught up with them there, and that’s when she and Johanna decided it was best for them to split up and Johanna had taken Jake with her.
Now she might have to run again. The idea of leaving Durango caused her stomach to churn. She stopped the dangerous thought before it gathered momentum. This time she would stand her ground. If Mason meant her harm, he would have to come to