The Hamilton Heir Read online

  “I have to stay where I am, don’t I?” Dawn asked, already knowing the answer.

  “That’s up to you,” Gabi said wisely, “but it sure looks that way to me. When you’ve had a chance to cool off and think more clearly, you’ll see what’s right.”

  “I hope so.” She blinked to clear her misty vision. “I just wish…”

  “Have you prayed about it?” Gabi asked.

  “Of course I…well…maybe not as much as I should have.”

  “Why is that?”

  Dawn huffed and made a face. “Why? Honestly? I suppose because I didn’t want to give the problem to God and take the chance I’d get a solution I didn’t like.”

  Chuckling softly, her friend nodded. “I think you’re finally beginning to understand.”

  “Understand? Yeah, right. That doesn’t make it any easier to face Tim every day.”

  “Hey, who promised this Christian walk was going to be easy? When Octavio died I thought my life was over, and now look at me.”

  Dawn was contrite. “You’re right. Compared to all you’ve been through, my problems are stupid.”

  “I didn’t say that. All I meant was, we each have our own crosses to bear. Some look heavier than others, that’s all. It’s when things are the most difficult for us that we most often tend to stop and look up. In retrospect, it’s easier to see how God stayed right beside us, even in the toughest times. I think that’s why mature Christians seem to take setbacks more in stride, no matter how badly they hurt.”

  Dawn nodded. “You’re right. Instead of complaining, I guess I should be thanking my heavenly Father for giving me such an inconsequential problem.”

  That observation made her friend laugh out loud. “Love is never inconsequential, honey. Confusing and maddening, maybe, but never inconsequential.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The monthly Hamilton family dinner was a longstanding tradition that Nora had insisted on maintaining, even while Wallace was in the hospital. Tim dreaded going, yet he knew how important each family gathering was to his mother so he didn’t even consider begging off.

  It would be good to spend some quality time with Chris, Tim thought. They ran into each other infrequently in the course of their busy lives, especially since Chris had solved the mystery of Felicity’s stalker and had quit spending so much time hanging around the newspaper office, working on the case.

  Heather and Amy would undoubtedly be in attendance, complete with their partners, and Chris would bring Felicity if he wasn’t on duty. Tim hoped his mother wouldn’t nag too much about his own lack of companionship. He knew she meant well but he was getting pretty sick of hearing about how happy all his siblings were, with the exception of the missing ones, of course.

  It was hard for Tim to keep from gritting his teeth as he climbed the familiar front steps onto the porch. Thoughts of Jeremy always did that to him, not to mention those of Melissa. The oldest and the youngest; still missing and still breaking their mother’s heart. Didn’t they know what their prolonged absences were doing to her? Didn’t they care? Apparently not.

  Tim rapped on the heavy, glass-inlaid front door as he pushed it open and called, “Mom? I’m here.”

  From the back of the house came a gaggle of voices, some laughing, some calling greetings. Tim winced. Every one of them sounded a hundred percent happier than he was—and he’d been doing his best to cultivate a carefree persona.

  At that moment, he would have turned and left if a sense of duty hadn’t held him there.

  Amy was the first to bustle through the doorway from the dining room. She greeted him with a brief hug and a grin. “Congratulations, Tim. You got here in time for the first course this month.”

  “I’m glad to see you, too,” he said with a smirk. “And I wasn’t that late last time. I was here before Vera Mae brought the food out of the kitchen.”

  “Barely.” Amy laughed. She motioned to the man and boy lagging behind her. They were dressed in slacks and matching sweaters as if one was a carbon copy of the other. “You know Bryan. And this is his son, Dylan.”

  “Of course. Hello, Bryan.” Tim shook the hand of the slightly shorter, auburn-haired writer who had recently been added to the magazine staff. “My sister tells me you’re full of good ideas.”

  “Tim!”

  One look at Amy told him she’d mistaken his innocent compliment for an allusion to her romantic involvement with the man. He laughed and quickly added, “I meant story ideas for Nashville Living.”

  Bryan chuckled. “Nice save, Tim.” He stepped aside so Dylan couldn’t hide behind his leg as easily. “Say hello to Mr. Hamilton, son.”

  The five-year-old seemed shy so Tim crouched to his level and extended his hand. “Hi, Dylan. You can call me Uncle Tim, okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  Blinking behind his glasses, the freckle-faced child extended his hand to shake with Tim the way his father had. Tim treated the boy with decorum equal to that of a business acquaintance, shook his small hand, then straightened. “Glad to see you two here. It’ll do Mom good to have a youngster in the house again.”

  “That’s what Amy said,” Bryan told him. “We didn’t want to intrude but she assured me we’d be welcome.”

  “That, you are. Where’s everybody else?”

  “Last I saw, Ethan was going to take pictures of Heather in the garden by the terrace. He said something about getting shots of her by the crape myrtle while it was still in bloom. Chris and Felicity are with them. There was so much talk about weddings I made myself scarce.” His quiet laugh was cut short as Amy whapped him playfully on the arm.

  Tim couldn’t remember when he’d seen his sister glow with such contentment. It was enough to turn a man’s stomach. What was wrong with all these people? Didn’t they know Wallace might die? Didn’t they worry about anyone else’s future the way he did?

  Tim felt a small, warm hand slip into his, looked down and saw the little boy smiling up at him. His eyes were twinkling, framed behind the lenses of his glasses. Dylan was the only one in that house who could be truly carefree, wasn’t he? And that was only because he was too young to understand how difficult life could be.

  The instant he drew that erroneous conclusion, Tim was regretful. The poor kid had lost his mother before he’d even known her. At least the Hamilton children had grown up in a secure home with two parents who loved them. And now it looked as though Amy would be giving this motherless child the love he’d been missing all his short life. That poignant thought was almost enough to choke Tim up.

  Dylan tugged on his hand as Bryan and Amy left them and started back to rejoin the others. “Uncle Tim?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you have kids like my Uncle Kevin in Texas?”

  “Nope. Sorry.”

  “Oh, well. Will you play with me?”

  “Me? Sure, I guess so. What do you want to play?”

  “Do you have any toys?”

  “I’m afraid not. Not anymore.”

  The boy’s face fell. “Oh.”

  “But maybe we can find something fun to do before dinner. Come on.” He led the child through the doorway into the entry. “We could play hide-and-seek.”

  “That’s no fair. You know all the good places to hide and I don’t.”

  “I wish I had some of those toy soldiers I gave Mr. Meyers. Maybe someday I’ll take you to meet him and you can play with his plastic men. He’s got a whole army. Actually, two armies.”

  “Cool.” Another tug. The child pointed. “Uncle Tim? Did you ever slide down that thing?”

  “The staircase? Sure. I rode that banister lots of times when my mother wasn’t looking.”

  “Really?” There was more awe in the question than Tim had heard in ages. “Can I do it? Please?”

  “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

  “You never did, did you?”

  “No. And Chris wasn’t any older than you are the first time Jeremy and I put him
up there and gave him a push. Tell you what. I’ll help you do it if you’ll promise you won’t try again unless I’m there to catch you. Promise?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He took a tentative step forward, holding tight to Tim’s hand. “Will Grandma Nora be mad?”

  An ear-splitting grin spread across Tim’s face and he noticed how much more lighthearted he was becoming in the presence of this extraordinary child. “She’ll be furious if she sees us,” Tim said with a laugh. “But if we get in trouble, I’ll take all the blame.”

  “You’re a cool uncle,” Dylan said.

  “Well, you’re a cool nephew, too, so I guess that makes us even.” He led the way to the staircase and hefted the boy into his arms so he could place him a short distance up the curving banister. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll be right here to catch you.”

  “Okay!” Dylan leaned down, his stomach pressed against the rising wooden rail and held on.

  Tim released him, encircling him with his arms so he wouldn’t fall even if he lost his balance. Nothing happened. “You can’t grab it quite that tight or you won’t go anywhere,” Tim said. “Loosen up a little.”

  Trembling, the boy eased his grip. Sliding slowly, he descended the few feet to the base of the stairs and came to a stop where the carved wood formed a tight spiral. His eyes were wide with delight when he looked up at Tim.

  “Can I do it again?”

  “Sure, sport, but you’d better let me hold your glasses for you this time, just in case.”

  “Okay.” He scampered up the stairs, going farther than the first time. Pausing, he carefully removed his glasses and handed them to Tim, then held out his arms to be picked up again.

  The sight of the trusting, eager child tugged at Tim’s heart. He’d never had much to do with kids before, but this one was sure getting under his skin. He could picture his own childhood and little glimmers of remembrance kept darting into his consciousness. There had been fun times then, carefree hours spent in this very house in the company of his siblings. Melissa, Jeremy, Chris and Heather had usually been the instigators of any trouble they’d gotten into, while he and Amy had stood back and thought things through. Especially him, Tim conceded. He’d been the sensible one of the bunch. The cautious one.

  So what was he doing helping a five-year-old slide down a banister? Was he crazy? Even if Dylan repeated the slide a hundred times and never got hurt there was always the chance he might lose his balance and fall.

  “Listen, kid,” Tim said. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all.”

  “Aww. You promised.”

  Tim sighed. “I did, didn’t I? Okay. One more time and then we stop.”

  “But—”

  “No arguments. Once more is it.”

  “Okay.” The pout was replaced with a sheepish grin. “You’re harder to talk into doing stuff than Dad is.”

  “Am I?” The candid comment made Tim smile, too. “I’m not surprised. That’s what my brothers and sisters always used to say, too.”

  “You have brothers and sisters? Where?”

  “All over the place. Amy’s my sister.”

  “No way! She’s old.”

  Tim was still laughing to himself over that innocent remark when he led Dylan into the dining room to join the others for dinner.

  Vera Mae had once again volunteered to help with the monthly family get-together. She had already served the main course when the telephone rang. She answered it in the kitchen, then quickly brought the portable receiver to Nora.

  “It’s Mr. Jeremy,” the longtime maid said. “I thought you’d want to take it now, even if it does interrupt your meal.”

  No one else spoke. Tim saw his mother’s hand shaking as she lifted the instrument to her ear and said, “Hello?”

  She listened. Tears filled her eyes and she glanced at Wallace’s empty chair at the head of the table. “Yes, he’s much better. The doctors think he’ll be released from the hospital soon.”

  She looked around at her other children, smiled and nodded reassuringly. “Yes, Jeremy. Everybody’s here except Melissa. Do you want me to put this on speaker so they can hear, too?”

  His answer must have been in the affirmative because Nora held out the phone and pushed the button to let the rest of them in on the conversation. “Okay. Go ahead and tell us. We’re all listening,” she said.

  Tim was more relieved to hear his brother’s voice than he’d imagined he’d be. He tensed, however, when he heard, “I’ve found my paternal grandparents, Thelma and Chester Anderson, here in Florida. Like we thought, they had no clue they had a grandson.”

  When he paused, Nora asked, “How are they taking it?”

  “Fairly well, considering. Thelma’s pretty open to the idea. I can understand why my father left and didn’t tell them anything about where he was going or what he was doing, though. Chester’s a hard man.” There was a drawn-out, noisy sigh. “Tell…Wallace…I’m really thankful I grew up where I did, okay? I’d hate to be a kid and have to face a guy like Chester. It’s difficult enough having to deal with him now.”

  “You’re coming home soon?” Nora asked.

  There was a long pause. Tim clenched his fists.

  “Not right away,” Jeremy said. “I want to give this a chance. It’s a big adjustment for everybody and like I said, Thelma’s a really nice lady. She says my blue eyes look just like her son Paul’s did.”

  That was more than Tim could stand. “You might want to think more about the man who raised you and gave you everything,” he announced.

  “I am thinking of Wallace,” Jeremy replied. “He’s the one who taught me to do what I believed was right, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. I had to do this, Tim. I don’t see that I had much of a choice, considering.”

  “Of course you had to find them,” Nora said with a cautionary glance toward her second son. “Tim worries too much. We know you’d be back here if you could. Just take care of yourself and come home as soon as you can. We all miss you.”

  “I miss you all, too. Bye for now. I’ll call again soon and give you an update, I promise.”

  From around the table there was a chorus of shouted goodbyes. Even Tim responded without urging.

  Nora blinked back tears, said, “I love you, Jeremy,” then pushed the button to end their conversation.

  For long seconds, no one spoke. Then, Dylan piped up with a cheery, “I ate all my peas. Can I have dessert now?” and everyone resumed as normal a demeanor as was possible under the strained circumstances.

  Amy looked across at her brother. “Nice one, Timmy. You almost blew it.”

  He grimaced at the childhood put-down. Amy hadn’t called him “Timmy” in at least twenty-five years. “Yeah, I know. Sorry,” he grumbled.

  His sister merely rolled her eyes and said no more but Tim could tell everyone was upset with him. Truth to tell, he was pretty upset with himself, too.

  The longer Tim sat at the enormous dining table and looked at his assembled family members, the more isolated he felt. As ridiculous and illogical as it was, he was so lonesome he felt as if he were the only person in the whole world, let alone the dining room.

  Visions of Dawn kept nagging at his subconscious. She understood him better than anyone else and she wasn’t speaking to him, either, although in her case he had no earthly notion why.

  Like it or not, Dawn was in everything he thought about; as much a part of him as the bricks were a part of the house in which he sat. What had gone wrong between them? He and Dawn had seemed as if they were really growing closer, getting to know each other, and then she’d pulled away as though she’d suddenly discovered he was a dangerous fugitive or something equally as ridiculous.

  There had to be a sensible explanation for her actions. Even women had reasons for behaving the way they did, didn’t they? Not knowing what had so radically changed her opinion of him was the most bothersome. Facts, he could deal with. Suppositions left him in limbo.r />
  Finally, Tim excused himself from the table and stepped into the hallway on the pretext he needed to make a private call on his cell phone.

  Hesitating, he stared at the instrument. If he asked Dawn to join him tonight and she turned him down, he’d be no better off than before. Then again, if he didn’t make the call things would stay the same. That was unacceptable. His only logical recourse was to take the chance, call her and let God handle the details. After the disappointment of his apparently ignored prayers for his father’s renewed health, that spiritually based conclusion caught him off guard.

  Tim dialed. The tone stopped abruptly after four rings and he was afraid he’d gotten Dawn’s answering machine until he heard her breathless, “Hello?”

  “Dawn? Tim Hamilton.” He cleared his throat. “I hate to bother you on a Sunday afternoon. I’m over at Mom and Dad’s.” A brilliant idea popped into his head so abruptly he voiced it without further consideration. Happily, it was also based in truth. “We’ve been discussing an acquisition and I need to see the Peterson file.”

  “You need it now? Why?”

  “I just do. Can you get it to me before six?”

  “What happens at six?”

  “Some of us are going over to the hospital to visit Dad and I wanted to take it with me.”

  “I suppose I could drop it by the hospital on my way to church.”

  Tim was exasperated. “No. I need it before that. Please bring it to the house. You know where it is, right?”

  “The house or the file?”

  “Both.”

  “Yes, I know. I was there recently with Heather, remember?”

  How could he forget? Images of Dawn in that beautiful blue dress still kept him awake nights. He schooled his voice to hide any telltale emotion. “Good. I’ll look forward to seeing you. Thanks. Bye.”

  Just before he broke the connection he was certain he heard her mumbling. Thankfully, she was too polite to voice her negative opinion of him clearly and he hoped she’d have calmed down by the time she arrived. If not, maybe he’d made things worse.