Higher Than Eagles (Donovans of the Delta) by Peggy Webb Read Free Book Online Page B

look!” Benjy yelled, turning to face the bench, his freckles shining and his cowlick bobbing. “Watch me catch this one.”
    “Ready, sport? Get your glove up, now.” Jacob drew back his arm and aimed a slow pitch at the small boy.
    Benjy stuck out his left hand, and the ball landed with a thunk in the leather glove.
    “That’s a boy. Now show me your curve ball.” Jacob hunkered down to be on the level of the slow, meandering ball that came his way. When he caught it, he acted as if he were playing with the best pitcher the Saint Louis Cardinals had to offer.
    Rachel died a little inside. Jacob was a natural with Benjy. If he ever found out that Benjy was his son and that she’d kept the knowledge from him, heaven help them all!
    The ballplayers strode over to the bench, wearing identical grins.
    “Mr. Donoben is a great ballplayer. He showed me the curbe ball.”
    Jacob reached down and tousled the boy’s hair. “You’re a natural, sport. Got a great left hook.” He settled on the bench beside Rachel and stretched out his legs. “I’m a lefty myself.”
    She tried to keep her face composed. “Lots of people are.”
    Jacob was stunned by the intensity of her reply. He’d simply been making casual conversation, and Rachel had gone on the defensive. All his instincts were alerted. He said nothing until Vashti took Benjy’s hand and led him off to the water fountain. Then he turned to Rachel and nailed her with a fierce blue stare.
    “Was Bob?”
    “Was Bob what?”
    “A lefty?”
    “No . . . yes.”
    “Which one. No or yes?”
    “I don’t remember.”
    “You don’t remember?”
    “He wasn’t much for outdoor sports. I guess I don’t ever remember seeing him pitch a ball.”
    “Didn’t you watch him write or eat?”
    She shifted down the bench so she wouldn’t be so close to him. A trickle of sweat ran between her breasts, wetting the front of her halter. She silently cursed the fates for sending Jacob to Biloxi, for making him the kind of man whose mere presence could drive a woman crazy.
    “What do you want from me?”
    “The truth. Was Bob left-handed?”
    “No, but . . .” Her common sense returned. There was no need to explain that left-handed children didn’t have to have one left-handed parent. Jacob was smart enough to know that. Besides, she’d let herself get trapped by protesting too much. If she weren’t careful, Jacob would get suspicious.
    Jacob was acutely aware of Rachel’s turmoil. He’d baited her, and she had taken the bait. Once again he was amazed at how fiercely she fought to keep every aspect of her life a secret from him. Red flags went up and warning bells sounded.
    He glanced across the playground at the little boy on the seesaw. Such a sturdy, well-built little fellow, not at all like his father. Jacob remembered Bob as being so slim, he was almost skinny. He’d also been very dark, with olive skin, black eyes, black hair. As far as he could see, Benjy didn’t have a single one of his father’s characteristics.
    “A boy needs a father to play ball with him. I suppose you’ll marry again.”
    He watched Rachel compose herself. Even in the ninety-degree heat she looked elegant, as if she should be wearing pearls and a tiara instead of shorts and halter top. One of the things he’d loved most about her was the unexpected contrast between her cool good looks and her hot explosive passions.
    “I suppose.”
    “Will it be somebody nice and safe this time?”
    “Nice and safe?”
    “You know what I mean—a separate bedroom type of fellow, like Bob.”
    “That’s none of your concern.”
    He was quiet a moment, gazing across the playground at Benjy and Vashti on the seesaws.
    “Yes. It’s my concern.”
    “Of all the arrogant, conceited—”
    His boom of laughter stopped her. “You presume too much, Rachel. Did you think I still loved you because of the way I kissed you?” Her green eyes darkened to jade, and her face flushed. “It’s not love