Jake's child Read Free Page A

that had swollen his cheeks up like a chipmunk's.
    She wanted to cry. The man's eyes were on her, a strange pity moving in them. She turned off the burner. "They're just big bugs, Nicholas. They fly."
    The boy nodded, content.
    Sarah gave the man soup and iced tea and poured 7-Up for Nicholas.
    "I don't have any milk for your boy." She opened the icebox door and put the bread and jam inside. "Have more iced tea if you want," she said, setting the pitcher down with just enough force that it tilted forward, spilling the cold tea down the man's chest and thighs.
    "What the hell?" He leaped to his feet. The plate skidded across the tea-splashed table.
    Sarah whirled. She could make it out the back door. She could.
    His muscular arm caught her around the middle.
    "Oomph." The breath was knocked out of her. Looking into his annoyed eyes, she drew a deep breath. "Turn me loose, please."
    "What?" He glanced down at his palm splayed across her middle, his square fingers tight against the tiny flowers of her shirt. "Sorry." He looked at his hand as if surprised by its quick movement.

    "See, Jake? She don't like you touching her, neither. Even if you're not as dirty as me." The boy's bright blue gaze shifted between the two adults. His tone carried a note of satisfaction.
    Sarah still felt the warm imprint of those muscles against her stomach.
    "Jake, you and me need a bath." The boy's face was peaceful. Filled up with toast and soup, he sat there with a sleepy grin splitting his mud-flecked face, his teeth a white line drawn through the grime.
    Sarah heard Jake's quiet breathing, heard her own heart beating in her ears. She smelled her own fear rising from her.
    Nicholas laid his face sideways on the table and sleepily traced noodle circles on the plate. "That guava's good. Maybe sometime I can have it on toast."
    Jake hadn't moved. Up close like this, Sarah saw a thread of gray in the glossy brown of his beard. His aggressiveness frightened her, but those light brown eyes didn't. They judged her, pitied her, dismissed her.
    At her indrawn breath, he stepped back. "Look, I barged in here like a Brahma bull, I reckon." He was uncomfortable, as though he'd just realized how she'd taken his actions.
    She stepped carefully back. "You did." Sarah sensed the easing of tension. Perhaps she'd overreacted. He really hadn't done anything. It was just his attitude. He was rude, crude, and probably tattooed, but he hadn't actually forced his way in.
    "God knows what you must have thought." Once again his eyes watched her knowingly.
    She saw Nicholas's lashes droop. "I think it's clear what I thought."
    He glanced towards his son, whose sleepy snores disturbed the quiet. "Yeah, I can't blame you, I guess. But you

    must be used to all kinds of activity out here, day and night. People must drop in at night." Watching, watching.
    What was he suggesting? Sarah turned back to the sink, washing the knife. "Not really."
    "Don't you get a lot of people wanting to go night-fishing?" He moved around the boy, touching his neck lightly as he passed.
    "No. People make arrangements ahead of time if they plan on using my boats at night." She swished the dishrag over the table, scrubbing hard at a splotch. Rinsing the rag out, she draped it over the sink and faced him.
    She was tired of this cat-and-mouse game. Weary fatalism sapped her energy. Whatever was going to happen, would. Her sympathies were all with the mouse. No wonder it got pounced on. It didn't have the patience to out-wait the cat. "Look, if you're trying to scare me, okay, you have. I don't know what game you're playing, but why are you here?"
    "I told you. Nicholas got sick, probably because he's been in the car too long and he's tired. He's afraid of the dark around here. You know how kids are sometimes. They get the most ridiculous notions. Then I saw your sign."
    "How?"
    He hooked his thumbs in his belt. "From the road."
    "It's a small sign with no lights."
    He looked straight into her own