Sudden Legacy by Kristy Phillips Read Free Book Online Page B

wasn’t a whine so much as a concerned observation. Julien scooped him up and deposited him on the seat while presenting him with a fruit crepe topped with whipped cream. I was momentarily taken aback by the sight of their similar faces side by side. Alex really was a carbon copy of his father.
    As we ate I snuck quick glances around the table. My eyes settled on Julien’s lips. I was mesmerized as his tongue darted out to lick a bit of cream. I quickly averted my eyes, blushing scarlet as my dream came back to me from the night before. Avoiding Julien and his lips, I continued my perusal of the table occupants. I watched as Pops ate three servings and politely complimented Julien on his cooking. I watched as Alex made a glorious mess stuffing his face with fruit and crepe. I watched as Julien helped Alex wipe his hands and face with his napkin, and Nan commented on what a natural he was. Her comment gave me pause. I thought for sure it would make Julien uncomfortable, but oddly enough, it didn’t. He thanked her with an impish wink and served himself a second helping.
    There we were, the five of us, having a family breakfast. It felt comfortable and right, as if we had done it every morning of our lives. My head spun at this strange twist my life had taken. Just yesterday I had sat at this very table over a cold bowl of cereal, never dreaming that a mere twenty-four hours later I would be sitting across from Julien himself. And what was more; he wasn’t the careless bastard I had built him up to be, but rather a startled new father who seemed to want to know his son. Julien’s gaze met mine and turned from amiable curiosity to alarm as I realized with horror that my own eyes were suddenly filling with tears.

I managed a quick “Excuse me,” before bolting from the table. I bypassed the stairs and headed straight for the back door. I didn’t know where I was going; I just needed to get away for a moment. There was too much happening for me to take in and make sense of. As I was passing the barn I caught sight of my gelding, Chester. I hadn’t been riding in over a week. No time like the present. Not bothering with a saddle, I mounted him bareback and urged him out of the paddock.
    I kept to a reasonable pace. For the most part I followed the fence-line, then veered into the woods, making use of a deer trail. Our property wasn’t large at twenty-five acres. I knew every piece of it, having grown up here all my life.
    I slowed Chester with a gentle tug, then gave him his head to wander as he pleased. I could smell the smoke of a distant brush fire, and was lulled by the hum of bees as we passed near a hive. It wasn’t long before we ended up at the small stream that trickled through the oaks. I dismounted and scooped a handful of silty mud. Smearing a thick “O K” on Chester’s haunches, I smacked his rump, sending him on his way. It was a system I had set up with Pops when I was little. The mud message was my way of letting Pops know I was unhurt should Chester make it back to the house before I did. Chester was like a twelve hundred pound carrier pigeon.
    I sat down against an oak, listening to the murmur of the water. I came here frequently. It was my thinking spot. The solitude of the woods, coupled with the trickling stream calmed me. I had conversations with my mother here. Well, I had conversations with my mother everywhere , but here, in my thinking spot, I always felt like she could maybe hear me more clearly.
    “Mom, can you believe this? What does this mean? How is he here? Why is he here? How did he not know about Alex?”
    My conversations with my mother were usually half spoken, half thought ramblings. I didn’t think I had to actually speak out loud for her to hear me, but I liked to nonetheless. I didn’t need to clarify whom I was speaking about. I had told her all about Julien, and our subsequent falling out.
    I don’t know how long I was sitting there before Julien showed up. I knew he