Page 51 of Gideon

I smiled, my heart swelling with love for her. “Wilma, do you remember the little girl running for help?”

“Yes,” Wilma said softly. “I think of her all the time. How is she?”

“She’s great. Laney is her mother, and now she’s my wife. I got a wife and a daughter at the same time.”

“Well, now you might be getting a son,” Laney said with a determined smile. Wilma chuckled.

“Laney, when we get there, let me do the talking. We can’t just take her word that he’s my son.”

I was nervous about meeting Ryan. Laney, on the other hand, was excited. She put her arm around me as I drove, resting her head on my shoulder.

“Don’t be nervous,” she whispered. “If Ryan is your son, he’s my son too. We’ll make it right. I have a feeling we’re about to meet our boy.”

“I just wish I had more time to look into this,” I said. “I called Sean, and he’s checking things out for me.”

“Here it is,” I said, parking across the street. I didn’t want the kids to overhear our conversation. I needed answers first.

When we stepped onto the porch, I heard the sound of kids inside. The door opened, and a young man stood there.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

My heart pounded. I knew he was my son. I stared at him, speechless.

“Is your mom home?” Laney asked.

“She’s sick. If you want to talk to her, you’ll have to come back another day. I need to take my brother and sister to school, so we’ve got to go. Come on, you two, or you’ll be late.”

He turned around and picked up a baby no older than a year. The baby laughed and kissed Ryan’s cheek as she squeezed his cheeks.

“Hey, no pinching,” Ryan said, tossing the child gently in the air and making her giggle. He glanced at us. “Well, we have to go. Goodbye.”

I took Laney’s hand and guided her back to the truck. As Ryan and the little ones walked toward the school, Laney turned to me. Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. I knew exactly how she felt. My own eyes were stinging. My son was beautiful—not because he looked like me, but because the kids clearly adored him.

“I love him,” Laney whispered.

“Me too,” I said softly.

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ll tell him I’m his dad and see how he takes it.” I looked at her, nerves tightening in my chest. “I’m nervous.”

“You don’t have to be. Ryan won’t be angry. You didn’t know he existed. This is going to be exciting. This is a chance for you to know your son.”

Thirty minutes later, we were talking when Ryan returned with the two youngest children. He approached us, his expression guarded.

“My mom isn’t feeling well. She’s not up for visitors,” he said.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you,” I said. “I’m just going to be honest. I only found out an hour ago that you’re my son. If I’d known back then, I would’ve taken you with me when I was eighteen.”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you’re my dad?”

“That’s what I’ve been told. And we look a lot alike.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know who told you that, but my father died overseas before I was born. His name was Gideon Archer.”

“My name is Gideon Archer,” I said gently.

Ryan’s face went pale. “She lied. I can’t believe I ever trusted her. I should’ve known she was nothing but a liar and a drunk.”

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