Chapter 10 CORMAC
CORMAC
Ihave a son.
The entire trip from High Ridge to Medford, Oregon was spent processing the news. Not that almost nine hours of driving and thinking got me anywhere.
I’m pissed that Jessica waited to name me as Jesse’s father until she got thrown in jail.
Frustrated that I’ve missed so much of my baby’s early days, even if he’ll never remember I wasn’t there for him.
But beyond the anger and hurt, there’s excitement, yearning, and definitely a sense of rightness—when it comes to both Overlands, Jesse and Davie.
During the frequent stops we made on the drive, I got to witness how sweet and protective Davie is of my son. She let me hold him briefly at a rest stop before swooping him back into her arms for a diaper change. Then, she allowed me to feed him a few hours later when we stopped for dinner.
It’s obvious how much she loves Jesse and how wary she is of me.
I can’t blame her, especially after what she witnessed at the ranch, but I’m determined to prove my worth. To replace that awful first impression with evidence that Davie can trust me.
Pale moonlight shimmers through the windshield, practically washed out by streetlights as we cruise through a suburban neighborhood, and I note the late hour on the dashboard. Thankfully, we’re nearing the end of our journey and not still speeding down the highway.
Deer are a hazard almost everywhere these days, and the thought of Davie and Jesse crashing into a two-hundred-pound animal in her small sedan sends a spike of fear straight through my solar plexus.
An older apartment complex comes into view, and Davie parks in the cracked concrete lot. Swinging my truck around, I park next to her and get out.
She offered to let me stay on her couch for the night, since we have an appointment at the court-approved lab tomorrow morning. According to the internet, it’ll be another one to two weeks before I’m officially confirmed as Jesse’s biological dad.
But I can wait.
That will give me time to rearrange my life to fit a wife and kid.
And hopefully figure out how to convince Davie to marry me.
“Here we are.” Davie sweeps her arm forward to encompass the tiny apartment, dumping her keys in a ceramic bowl.
Linnea took off a few minutes ago after being repeatedly assured that we'd be fine alone. It's the first time we haven't had a buffer since our first meeting.
“It's nice,” I say. “Cozy.”
Photos decorate the walls. Nature shots and family pictures. First, with Davie and a woman who must be Jessica, then more with Jesse added to the mix.
“You don't have to be polite. I know it's not what you're used to at the ranch, but we get by alright.”
“It keeps you and Jesse safe and warm. That makes it good in my books.” Leaning closer to a framed photograph resting on a side table, I point to the woman smiling beside Davie. “Is this Jessica?”
“You don't recognize her?”
Shame burns the tips of my ears. “I sound like an asshole, but no, not really.” If I really tried, maybe she'd become more familiar, but I doubt it.
The anniversary of my dad's death is the one time I give myself permission to cut loose. Grieving and drinking. Those two things are all I have the capacity for, though clearly, I worked up enough energy to father a child this last time.
“Maybe it's for the best.” She sighs and carries a sleeping Jesse to her room. “Sometimes I barely recognize my sister, and I practically raised her.”
“You did?”
“Please don't count that against me. I love Jesse and would never—”
“Whoa…” My hands land on her shoulders to stop the spiraling. “No one is using anything against you. I was just curious. You can’t be blamed for your sister’s actions.”
Davie droops beneath my palms, and instinctively, my thumbs dig into her stiff muscles, praying a massage might soothe her nerves.
“A judge might blame me,” she whispers. There’s a brittleness to her voice, like she’s worried about this for longer than just tonight. Like one careful strike of a judge’s gavel may cause an irreparable crack in her life.
“That’s not going to happen.” Unable to resist anymore, I tug her into my arms for a hug.
Jesse lays sleeping in the crib where she placed him earlier, and as I stare at my son over Davie’s shoulder, my hold on his aunt tenses.
No one will separate Jesse and Davie, least of all me.
I’ve claimed them as my own, and that’s all anyone needs to know if they decide to fuck with them.
Because I will fight to protect them—always—with everything I am.