Almost Perfect (Fool's Gold #2)(23)

Tyler beamed. “I didn’t know about you riding bikes and stuff. Now I’m going to ride my bike more.”

“Maybe we can ride together sometime.”

Tyler’s eyes widened. “Could we? Sweet! But you’ll go really fast and beat me. That’s okay. I’ll get better as I grow. That’s what Mom always tells me. That I’m good now and I’m going to get better.”

That was the pattern, Ethan thought grimly. Whatever they were talking about, Tyler had a story about his mother. A positive, supportive example of what a great mother she’d been. Their closeness was a good thing, or so he tried to convince himself.

“Mom says you build windmills. The kind they use for electricity. Can I come see?”

“Sure. We have a wind farm outside of town. We can go there, and you can see where I build them.”

“They’re really big, right?”

“Bigger than you can imagine.”

The game started, distracting Tyler. After they’d stood for the national anthem, they settled back in their seats. Tyler asked about Ethan’s family and the construction business. Ethan told a couple stories from when he’d been younger. The afternoon sped by and when the game ended Ethan had the sense that he knew his son better, along with a certainty that knowing Tyler was going to change his life forever.

They walked back to Liz’s old house.

“If the Mountaineers win this season, they don’t get to go to the World Series,” Tyler said.

“No, but the good players will be moved up in the league and maybe get to play in the majors.”

“I can hit pretty far,” his son told him. “I don’t catch so good.”

“We could practice,” Ethan suggested.

“Yeah?” Tyler grinned. “Mom tries, but she throws like a girl.” His eyes twinkled. “Although I’m not ’posed to say that. She gets mad. One time she told me this whole long story about girls having different hips and how they walk differently and it makes it harder for them to throw like a guy. I sort of understood what she was saying, but then I asked what her hips had to do with her throwing and she got mad.”

Ethan chuckled. “I’m sure she did.”

“Sometimes moms are complicated.”

“It’s not just moms. It’s all women. Just when you think you’ve got them figured out, they surprise you.”

Tyler continued to look up at him. The smile faded. “Do you have other kids?”

Ethan felt a tightness in his chest. Without thinking, he put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “No. I don’t.”

“So it’s just me?”

Ethan nodded.

“I wouldn’t mind a brother, but I sure don’t want a sister.”

Liz was sitting on the front porch when they got back to her place. Tyler raced toward her and threw himself in her arms.

“We had the best time,” he said. “The Mountaineers won and the manager got mad at the umpire and got thrown out of the game.”

“That can’t be good,” she replied, releasing her son. She looked over his head toward Ethan. “Sounds like everything went well.”

He nodded, determined not to react to her in a T-shirt and shorts. Nothing about the clothes was special—it was the woman inside the clothes that made him take notice.

Her legs were long and toned, the skin smooth. Her bare feet made her look vulnerable. His instinctive reaction was to protect. Then he had to remind himself that Liz was the bad guy here, which made him uncomfortable.

“I’m gonna tell Melissa and Abby about the game,” Tyler announced and ran inside. The screen door slammed behind him.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” she said.

Ethan let his anger take over. “There shouldn’t be anything to be glad about. I shouldn’t have to get to know my son. I should be a part of his life. You didn’t have the right, Liz. You didn’t just screw with my life, you screwed with Tyler’s.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment, then she reached behind her and picked up a letter. The envelope was smudged and had the look of paper that had been handled a thousand times. She held it out to him.

He didn’t want to take it. Because in that second, looking into her eyes, he knew she’d been telling the truth. That five years ago she had tried to tell him about Tyler.

His fingers closed over the envelope. The date on the postmark confirmed her story, as did the handwritten address. The writing wasn’t his—he could see that immediately. But it was close enough that someone else could be fooled. After all, it wouldn’t have occurred to Liz that someone was trying to mislead her.

He pulled out the single sheet of paper. The message was brutally clear. “I know about the kid you claim is mine. What we had ended years ago. I have my own family now. My own responsibilities. I don’t want anything to do with him or you. Stay away from me and from Fool’s Gold.”

The letter didn’t excuse her running away and not telling him about her pregnancy, but it explained a lot. Suddenly his anger wasn’t as hot or bright as it had been. He was the one left feeling played by a woman who had claimed to love him.

Rayanne had known, he thought, shaking his head. She’d known for months, had gone into labor knowing he had another child out there and hadn’t said a word. She’d kept the truth to herself, even as she died in his arms.