Page 111 of Defenders of Jawhara

Jason shook his head, then nodded. “On the Wii. But Mom only let me play for an hour on Saturday.” He made a face, then glanced at Bethany. “Aunt Bethany is going to be my mom now.” Her throat tightened. Before she could answer, Jason fixed a stare on Slade. “Are you my dad?”

Slade’s face reddened. He stood and scooped up some of the debris from dinner. “You done with these fries?” he asked Jason.

Jason stuffed the last two fries into his mouth and nodded. Bethany stood. Her chair scraped on the floor as she pushed it back. They’d eaten at the kitchen table instead of at the counter, like she usually did when it was just her and Jason. “Come on, Jas. Time for a bath and bed.”

She herded him down the short hallway to the bathroom, but Jason called over his shoulder, “’Night, Mr. Slade. Thanks for the burger. If Aunt Bethany lets me, I’ll show you how to play baseball on the Wii tomorrow.”

Bethany fought down a smile. She had no idea what Slade was doing while she made sure Jason was getting ready for bed. She pulled the sheets up over him, turned down the blanket, and Jason asked, “Can Mr. Slade read me a bedtime story?”

She sat on the edge of his bed. “It’s just Slade, remember.”

“Oh, yeah, like just Batman. I like him.”

She ruffled his hair. “Slade? You do? Why?”

“Mama said you could always tell a good guy because he’d look you in the eye. Slade’s solid.” With that, Jason turned over and fell asleep.

Bethany sat on his bed. Her stomach knotted, and not from the burger. Tayra…she’d been wrapping guys around her little finger from the age of eight, long before she’d grown the breasts and hips that would have enslaved men if she’d let them, but she’d only had eyes for Brock. Bethany had been skinny and serious and had braces. She’d hated her half-sister as much as she’d envied her, and she’d gone in the opposite direction.

She’d become the ultimate geek—the computer nerd—who didn’t have any use for guys, except as an occasional distraction in college when she got too bored with exams that never challenged her. But Tayra had known how to pick a guy—how to pick the good guy—if what she knew about Brock was true. Too bad she’d never learned how to stay with him, or anyone else for that matter.

Heading out of the bedroom, Bethany left the door open a crack. Jason had woken with bad dreams often during the past weeks, when Tayra’s illness had taken her back into the hospital. She wanted to hear if Jason started shouting in his sleep.

She found Slade in the living room, puttering around with the ancient TV that Tayra had found at some yard sale.

“It’s almost an antique,” Bethany said. “I’ve got my laptop in my bedroom, if you need it or want to watch something. We at least have DSL here.”

Dusting off his hands, Slade stood. He seemed way too big for this house. He made the living room seem tiny, and not just with his size. He had an energy to him, a masculine presence that left Bethany feeling tiny and fragile. She’d never felt any of those things before—those feelings had been Tayra’s specialty.

He glanced around and spread his hands. “I want to help you.”

“Uh…help? As in, fix the TV?”

“Whatever you need.”

Bethany crossed the room and sat down on the couch. She missed her apartment back in Portland, but as soon as Tayra had gotten sick, Bethany had figured she had to move in with Tayra and Jason. She’d put her things in storage and had sublet her place. She’d also thought about closing up Tayra’s house now, but that would be harder on Jason. He had friends here—his doctors were nearby. Maybe after his surgery…maybe after the dust from all of the legal battles she could foresee settled…maybe after hell froze over.

She slumped lower. “You want to help fix up Tayra’s house?”

He came over and sat down next to her. “We’ve shared burgers. Why don’t we put our cards on the table? If Jason is Brock’s kid, why the hell was Tayra keeping it a secret?”

5

Slade watched Bethany closely. She glanced down at her fingers, laced them together, unlaced them, and put her palms flat on her thighs. He knew she was trying to decide whether to tell a lie or the truth. She looked up at him, her blue eyes clear and bright, and he knew she’d decided on the truth.

“I don’t know. She told me…when she left Brock, she gave me all this crap about how she couldn’t live with the fear that he wouldn’t return from wherever he was, putting his life on the line. She knew he’d wanted to become a SEAL—she knew what his life was like. I asked her about that. She said she’d thought she could handle it. I thought all of it was bull. Tayra…Tayra was the original grass is greener on the other side type of person. Then their divorce was finalized without a complaint from Brock. Before long, she started showing, had to stop drinking, and it was obvious she was going to have a baby, and I asked her about it. She swore she’d call Brock. Then she said she had called him, and he’d told her to have an abortion.”

“Brock would never…”

“I know, I know…you guys are all about honor, duty, country…protecting those you love. I remember Brock when they were in high school, and he doted on her. Then he joined the Navy, and those interactions became less frequent. I saw him after their wedding and a few family events, and even then, it was obvious he was crazy for her. I figured that was Tayra’s way of telling me to butt out. Tayra…she…she always knew how to get her way.”

The corner of Slade’s mouth curved. “Yeah, Tayra was good at that.”

“Don’t I know it? I grew up in her shadow. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her, but there were times…”

“You’re feeling guilty. You’re alive, she’s dead, and there were times that you hated her.”

Bethany glanced down at her hands. She didn’t wear a ring, but she rubbed her thumb as if she had one on. Standing, she headed for the kitchen, calling back, “Want something else to drink? There’s still lemonade left.”

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