“Who love in their own way,” Rider reminded her.
“Yeah, well, sort of, I guess. Anyway, Becky was happy, and I decided I would be, too. I made up my mind to do everything I’d always thought about doing, to live life with no restraints and no one telling me I couldn’t do something. I got a job as a flight attendant and flew around the world for a couple of years.
That was fun. Then I spent a year in the Amazon rain forest with a study group. After that, I backpacked across Europe, went on a fossil dig in Africa, helped with a housing project for the poor in Mexico, learned to ski in Colorado and to surf in California, and anything else I took a notion to do. It was great. Whenever I got bored or started feeling hemmed in, I’d just go on to something else. And in between, I worked at odd jobs in Dallas and always managed to make time to spend with Nathan.”
“Sounds like you and Nathan are pretty tight.”
“Yeah. He kinda likes his Aunt Katie.”
“So what’s the custody deal about? Wouldn’t your sister have wanted you to have custody?”
“She and Darryl always said if anything happened to them, I should take Nathan.” Her hands gripped the steering wheel convulsively, hanging on. “But they were so young, they thought they were invulnerable. They never got around to putting it in writing. Darryl’s parents know, and they’re going to testify for me.”
“That should work, shouldn’t it?”
“Not necessarily. My parents are determined to get custody so they can correct the frivolous, permissive way Becky was raising their grandchild. They’re pillars of the community. My father’s a vice president at the bank and a deacon in the church. I wasn’t there when Becky and Darryl died, and my parents snatched Nathan up and filed a motion for temporary then permanent custody. Darryl’s parents heard about it in time and intervened to at least get visitation for me and for themselves.”
“Are they trying to get custody, too?”
“No, they’re testifying for me and they don’t want to muddy the waters. Anyway, they’re in their sixties, retired, and they’d never say they’re too old, but they did say they thought Nathan needed a younger parent. So my father managed to snare temporary custody, and then he refused to let me see Nathan.”
“How could he refuse if the court gave you the right?”
He really did have amnesia, she thought wryly. “Men like my father have no problem defying court orders. He didn’t bring Nathan to Becky and Darryl’s funeral, and every time I drove up there, he wouldn’t open the door. The permanent custody hearing was scheduled for sooner than 1 could have gotten a contempt motion on the docket. Tomorrow the judge decides the permanent custody. And my parents are saying my life—style shows I’m flaky, irresponsible and not stable enough to raise a child.”
“Well, I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Rider said carefully, “but I have to admit, it doesn’t sound as if you could ever be a member of the PTA and coach the soccer team.”
Katie clenched her teeth. He might have amnesia, but he was still a jerk.
“I can do whatever it takes to make sure Nathan is happy. Since Becky and Darryl died at the same time and I was secondary beneficiary on both policies, I had enough money to buy a house.”
“So if they made you secondary beneficiary, doesn’t that prove they intended for you to take care of their son?”
“My lawyer says it shows intent, but it’s still not legal proof.” Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, squeezing the hard surface in frustration.
“They thought they were being so careful. They were worried that if they made Nathan the beneficiary, if anything happened while he was a minor, our parents might somehow get control of the money as courtappointed trustees or something.”
“If they were worried enough to take out insurance policies and think it through to that extent, why didn’t they make a will?”
“They didn’t take out the insurance policies. They both worked at the same plant, and the insurance came with the job. They thought it all out because it was right in front of them, a choice they had to make. Writing a will, finding a lawyer, getting an appointment—that’s different. That’s something you have to think about and plan, and they weren’t planning to die.” Flooring the accelerator, she swung around a car that was going entirely too slow.
Rider touched her forearm. “Easy, honey,” he said. “I don’t plan to die any time soon, either.”
“Sorry.” She raised her foot a good quarter inch, forcibly reminding herself that speed for fun was one thing, but speed to release anger wasn’t very smart. “Anyway, to continue with my respectability saga, I’d been friends with Jo—with Fred for years, and he helped me arrange to take a crash course in being a medical transcriptionist, then he helped me get a job at Springcreek General Hospital.”
“Where I’m a resident. Is that where we met?”
Katie swallowed hard and kept her eyes riveted on the road ahead. She’d become so engrossed in making Travis Rider understand and believe the truth, that telling a lie—even in a just cause and even after she’d told so many tonight—suddenly didn’t feel right.
“If not for this custody thing, I’d never have met you.” That was true enough.
“Katie…” He sounded oddly tentative. “Did we get married just for this hearing? Is this a marriage of convenience?”
“I’d never marry anyone for that kind of a reason.” In fact, she’d never actually marry anyone—give up control of her own life—for any kind of a reason. When the caseworker had admitted that being single would be a strike against her, she’d impulsively told the woman she was engaged, knowing she’d have to lie because it would never happen for real.
“I sure am glad to hear that.” Rider lifted his hand to her cheek, stroking gently with his knuckles, then letting his fingers trail lazily down her neck, over her shoulder and along her arm. To her surprise and chagrin, she didn’t flinch from his touch. Instead, she found herself enjoying it, wanting more, her breath coming a little faster as currents of electricity zigzagged through her body. The sensation was insane and wonderful. She could only compare it to the first time she’d caught the crest of a wave and surfed in to shore.
How was that possible? How could she enjoy the touch of a man who worked for her parents, a man who’d set out to ruin everything?
Travis Rider might give her the same sensations as surfing, but she suspected these feelings were a lot more dangerous.
“Where are we spending the night?” he asked.
“In the Sleepy Time Motel.” She was barely able to squeeze the words up through her throat. She’d made reservations for John—the real John—and herself. She had a sleeping bag in the trunk of the car, which John had gallantly offered to use. No problem. He was like a brother. They’d gone camping and shared the same tent before.
But this wasn’t the real John Dunn. This was a man who believed he was her husband. This was a man she feared and disliked. This was a man to whom, it seemed, she was as strongly drawn as she was to speeding around a sharp curve so fast she could feel two wheels lift off the ground.
Okay, Becky, she thought frantically, call off the angel. I got our message across. Give him back his memory. Fast. Sometime before