Reading books romantic stories you will plunge into the world of feelings and love. Most of the time the story ends happily. Very interesting and informative to read books historical romance novels to feel the atmosphere of that time.The Forgotten Child by Lorhainne Eckhart (latest ebook reader .TXT) đź“–
- Author: Lorhainne Eckhart
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Book online «The Forgotten Child by Lorhainne Eckhart (latest ebook reader .TXT) 📖». Author Lorhainne Eckhart
Looking away, he closed his eyes. “Emily, please. I don’t want any trouble and I’d rather not say. I don’t want to be dragged into the middle of this.” But his shame was changing into agitation.
“No, dammit it’s not okay. I demand to know. No, I think I have a right to know, and if you won’t tell me; I’ll contact the labor board or a lawyer if I have to, and drag your ass through court for wrongful dismissal.” She knew she’d gone too far with that last one, but she couldn’t hold it back. She was being screwed over.
“Okay you want to know, I’ll tell you, it was Brad Friessen and there’s no way I can afford to piss off a guy like that.” Standing up, Jake was furious as he pointed to the door. “Now, get out.” Trembling with anger, he held out her check and waited impatiently for her to take it. Emily shook as she reached for the check, struggled for breath and tried to still the ringing in her ears. The implication of such a betrayal weighed heavily. How could he? She struggled to hold it together as she walked out past the customers, Suzanne, and, she prayed, no one else she knew. She fought to suppress the tears as she hurried back to her rental house. The whole time her mind swam with images of Brad. The questions, the pain, how this man, in less than forty-eight hours, had gone from making passionate unprotected love to her...to this. It just didn’t make sense.
She cursed everything she could upon him, and then upon all men. She wanted to hate him. Only it didn’t feel right after everything they’d shared. His confession, what Crystal had done. That was not a man who didn’t care. One who would then turn around and try to gut her entire existence. No, the Brad she knew would never have done anything that despicable. Her head was driving her crazy with that voice playing devil’s advocate. He’d let her leave his home, but he’d explained that. Then there were the problems with Crystal, after all, he’d let her stay. But then she was his wife. Even if she disappeared and abandoned her child, she’d no interest in being a mother to Trevor. She dropped her head in her hands as she raged, trying to make sense of what had happened. It was beginning to drive her crazy. He confided in her about why Crystal was still there, and legally his hands were tied. Or, had he just said that for her benefit? She wanted to scream, she was so confused, none of this made any sense as she stormed up the walkway to the small house she rented. Unlocking the door, she went in and closed it tightly behind her. Tossing her purse down on the leather couch, she sank down beside it. The burgundy cloth covering the easy chair was so worn it was beginning to fray along the seams. Slowly scanning the room with her eyes, she noticed the toys were scattered by the green plastic tub. The crayons and coloring book littered the chipped, wooden coffee table.
She leaned back, feeling gutted, her breath shaky. She couldn’t fight the tears and didn’t try. She was a messy crier and let the keening go. “Can things get any worse?” Her thoughts wandered to Katy, and what they were to do. Of course, the severance pay from Brad had been very generous, but Emily needed a job or the remainder of that money would evaporate in short order.
She took a deep breath trying to still the hiccup and crying jag. She grabbed the box of Kleenex and blew her nose. Talking to anyone, they’d know she either had a cold or was crying. She just sat there and listened to the sound of the clock ticking away. Then she knew what she needed to do. Her motions were almost robotic as walked to the door, and then froze when her hand touched the knob. She backed away, strode into the kitchen and grabbed the telephone. Before she allowed herself to think about what she was doing, she dialed the number. It rang just once before it was picked up and answered by that sugary sweet voice. Emily felt her stomach sink. Hang up. She heard it but she didn’t listen. “I would like to speak to Brad, please.”
There was a long pause on the other end, before Crystal coolly asked, “Who’s calling please?”
Bitch, she thought to herself, she knows damn well whose calling. “It’s Emily. I’d like to speak with Brad please, now.”
“My husband’s not available at the moment. He’s downtown picking up our tickets. We’re getting ready to leave on a vacation together. It’s kind of a celebration. I’ll tell him you called.”
There it was, another knife in her back. What the hell was he doing? Had he really just slept with her all night, with his son in the next room, and then gone home to her and reconciled? A vacation, are you kidding? She looked at the phone and her heart sank; she couldn’t believe he’d do this to her, again. “Could you ask him to call me—it’s important.” She tried to keep the shake from her voice, but she failed miserably. Before she fell apart completely, she ended the call.
Laying her head down on the counter, she closed her eyes as she was unable to stop the sobs welling up inside. It felt like a vice had suddenly been squeezed around her chest and she allowed the pain to escape. Her knees gave out and she sank to the floor, letting go of everything she’d held together for so long. She cried, praying the pain swelling in her heart, threatening, in that moment, to destroy her, would disappear. All the while cursing herself for being so stupid to allow this man to do this to her, again. As she sat there on the floor, long after her tears had dried up, she felt empty; like she had been pitched headfirst into an emotionless void. And it was then that it hit her, how she’d given herself so freely to him, opening herself up to this man—to Brad, in a way she’d never done before.
His father was Rodney Friessen. He was established, hard-headed and respected. To reach out and call him was, for Brad, admitting he’d been wrong. But, he was—wrong, that is. In the end, he'd swallowed his pride and sought the help he and Trevor needed. It had been a bitter pill to swallow. His Mom had picked up the extension after listening on the sidelines for half an hour. To his daddy’s credit he never once said, “I told you so” or “you should have listened to me.” Instead, he listened, without judgment, and then offered his help and some solid advice for a viable plan to resolve this situation; which meant removing Trevor from this acidic environment. Telling his parents Trevor had autism had been heart wrenching. His mother cried but his father remained silent. Then they both said they would be on the next plane back to Seattle.
Two days later Brad picked up his parents from the floatplane he’d chartered from Seattle. They’d not seen Trevor since he was a baby, so he was unprepared for their welcome.
“Brad, where’s my grandson.” His mom, Becky, was short, gray-haired, plump and flowing with life. She hugged him and then bent down to Trevor who stood hiding behind Brad’s leg. She took his hand and talked to him. She pulled a wrapped present from her handbag, which he grabbed. His “eeks” and squeaks were quiet for the first time, as he unwrapped two hot wheels cars and an Elmo talking book.
“Cool gifts, Mom.” Trevor seemed to think so too, as he sat on the grass and played with the first car he unwrapped.
His father was a tall man with short-cropped gray hair and deeply etched lines on his face. He hovered behind his wife, hesitant, the awkwardness still there. It wasn’t until Brad extended his hand that his father reached out and pulled him into his arms instead. Their conversation was stilted at first, until his daddy pulled him aside to let him know they were prepared to stay as long as it took.
The plan was for Trevor to return with his grandparents, to Baja. He would stay with them until Brad resolved this battle with Crystal.
On the drive back to the ranch, his Mom told him of a lady she hired who had experience with autistic children. From the minute Becky got off the telephone with Brad, she’d researched autism, the therapy Brad told her about and how they could best help Trevor. She was glued to Trevor the entire ride back and insisted on walking the ranch before taking Trevor in.
When Crystal saw his parents arrive, she stumbled on the porch.
Becky cooked dinner. The conversation around the table flowed from the cattle to the dairy contract, and then to Trevor. His father was masterful, charming, when he wanted to be, and ruthless. But it was his Becky who suggested Trevor come and visit. Crystal was hesitant, but his father cornered her with his charisma, leaving her no room to maneuver. Right after dinner, Rodney produced a letter of consent. Brad signed it first, and then passed it to Crystal. He noted her reluctance as she glanced at the phone. But Becky soothed her ruffled feathers and had her sign before she could find an excuse and change her mind.
Brad’s parents left in the morning with the signed consent for customs and their grandson, Trevor.
“You call me as soon as you get things squared. Your Mom’s right on top of what needs to be done for Trevor. So you focus on what you need to do.”
“Thanks again, Daddy. And I’m sorry; I should have listened.”
“It’s done, but you call me if
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