to fathom—that a horrible disease would put an early end to her life.
He shook his head, unable to believe it had really happened. Had he not been there to see it himself, he’d have never believed a woman so vibrant and strong could…stop, Burke. Don’t open those doors again. The image was too much. He clenched his jaw, forcing the recollection to flee his mind.
It was then, in the final days of her life, that his mother confessed that she’d picked Jonathon Benton for a reason—it was the very fact that he wasn’t available. She wanted a child, but she didn’t want the man. And a man who was raising a family on the other side of the country…a man who had no idea of her intent during the time of the affair. That, coupled with his intelligence, good looks, and other admirable traits, made him—according to her—the perfect candidate.
Burke tried very hard not to resent her for that. Still, as lonely as it was, being an only child to a work-focused parent, he longed for the family he only partially belonged to.
A deep and aching sigh pushed through him. Burke was grateful for the money and the financial advice his father had given him, but Burke would give everything he owned to have just one day with the man.
That loss was an unreachable ache in his heart. A problem he’d never solve. The prize that money would never buy him.
Burke weaved the small car along the winding street until he came to the interstate once more. A memory of the calico cat darting across the street came to mind. He groaned and tightened his grip on the wheel. He’d been taught from an early age to not brake for a small animal. Better to hit a cat than risk your own life, his mom would say. Until today, he’d never faced the unfortunate dilemma.
He shook off the incident and snatched his sunglasses from the dash, yet just as he slid them onto his face, Burke realized how quickly he was gaining on the vehicle ahead, an old pale blue truck.
The classic Chevy was in good shape from the looks of it; too bad the same couldn’t be said about its driver. Not only were they crawling along at a snail’s pace, they were swerving too. Perhaps an old local was driving under the influence.
“Great.” Burke brought the BMW to a slow. He squinted, hoping to glean a glimpse of the driver, when the truck swung hard to the left, veering over the yellow dashed line.
Whoa, buddy. Get a grip. As if just noticing the error himself, the driver swerved hard to the right next. Burke’s heart pumped out a thunderous beat as the truck teetered, putting inches of air between the pavement and the left-side tires.
Lord, don’t let them roll.
The pickup swerved once again to the left, then to the right, and soon it straightened out completely, all four tires on blessed ground.
The tension in his limbs softened. “Thank the Lord,” he muttered. Yet before he could match the truck’s slowing pace, it slowed even more. Now it was Burke swerving to avoid the oncoming traffic and then the dang truck that still hadn’t managed to get out of his way.
The tires gave out a hot screech as he came up behind the Chevy, the truck’s massive bumper growing closer and closer still as the smell of burning rubber hit the air.
Come on…stop, stop, stop…
Crack!
The sound, accompanied by the slightest jolt, told Burke that he hadn’t missed the bumper completely. He’d nicked it, just barely. A curse slipped through his clenched jaw as anger tightened his frame from head to foot.
Concern had gone right out the window. Now he was just pissed. How hard could it be to just drive in a straight line without swerving all over the place? How hard could it be to just get out of the way before slowing down so much that you cause an accident?
Burke took the car out of gear, cranked the parking brake, and shut off the engine. After climbing out of the car, he hurried to survey the damage. The shiny grill showed the slightest dent, indicating where he’d nicked the truck’s bumper.
A dozen possibilities came to mind as he considered how to address the driver.
Hey, buddy, try getting a driver’s license before getting behind the wheel next time.
Or, You’ll be glad to know that I’ve called the authorities and told them to bring their handcuffs—one of us is