In Every Heartbeat - By Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,68

to Pete unless I had all the facts. If you really think he should know, find out for sure whether this Oscar Leidig is really his brother or not.”

“But how can I do that?”

Bennett chuckled and brushed his knuckles along her jaw. “Seems simple enough to me. Ask Pete.”

“If I ask Petey, he’ll want to know why I’m asking, and there will be no way to avoid telling him what his brother has done.”

Bennett shrugged and turned to head down the sidewalk toward his dorm. He called over his shoulder, “Then go ask the kid.”

On Thursday morning, Pete plopped his suitcase open on his bed. He stood staring into the empty case, gnawing his lower lip in indecision. What did a person wear when seeing his parents for the first time in almost a dozen years?

He decided to wear work trousers and a soft chambray shirt for travel; he would don the suit Aaron and Isabelle had given him as a graduation gift when he went to his parents’ apartment. Pa and Ma wouldn’t expect him to look like a gentleman. He smiled, anticipating the surprise he’d certainly witness in their eyes. He hoped to glimpse pride, too—a displaced pride, since they’d had nothing to do with the man he’d grown to be. Would that pride change to shame by the time he’d finished speaking his piece?

He hopped to the wardrobe on his good leg and withdrew his suit. Turning awkwardly, he made his way back to the bed. Every jarring step drove deeper his angry resentment toward Gunter and Berta. Once I’ve said what needs saying, the anger’ll be gone. He prayed that would prove true.

His hands shook as he meticulously folded his pants, jacket, and shirt. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and broke out across his back, making him feel sticky. Nausea attacked, and he sank onto the edge of the bed. Holding his stomach, he willed the feeling to pass. Nerves . . . just nerves. But he had to gain control before he boarded the train or the motion would surely make him sick. Gritting his teeth, he finished packing and strapped on his peg leg. He glanced at his pocket watch.

The train was scheduled to leave at ten o’clock. He’d eat breakfast, let his stomach settle, and then head to the station. And by tomorrow I’ll be rid of Gunter and Berta—and their hold on me—for good.

With that thought hovering in his mind, he walked across the grounds toward the dining hall. Halfway there, pounding footsteps sounded behind him, and he braced himself in case the runner accidentally bumped him when passing. But to his surprise, the steps halted and someone threw an arm around his shoulders. His surprise grew when he looked into the grinning face of Roy Daley.

“Morning, Peg leg.”

Roy’s firm grip on Pete’s shoulder combined with his swaggering gait made Pete feel off-balance. His muscles tensed as he fought to keep his footing. “Good morning.”

“Mind if I join you for breakfast? Somethin’ I’d like to discuss with you.”

Puzzled, Pete shrugged. What could Roy want? The other man had ceased harassing Pete and Bennett, to Pete’s relief, after the Sunday baseball game. In fact, Roy had kept his distance, ignoring them so thoroughly Pete believed he’d forgotten they existed. His sudden friendliness put Pete on his guard.

They entered the dining hall side-by-side, with Roy keeping a grip on Pete’s shoulder as if afraid he might bolt. Roy waved at a table of friends, smirking and raising one eyebrow in a way that seemed to communicate a secret message. Pete’s apprehension grew more intense by the minute. Roy pointed to an empty table and gave Pete a little push toward it.

“Have a seat, Peg leg, ol’ buddy. I’ll get us both some breakfast and be back in a minute.”

Uncertain but unwilling to cause conflict, Pete pulled out a chair and sat. He watched Roy amble to the front of the line. Two students voiced mild protests when he butted in front of them, but Roy laughed and plopped two plates on his tray. Pete looked over to the table where Roy’s friends sat. They each wore a smirking grin, their eyes darting from Roy to Pete. A cold chill raised the fine hairs on the back of Pete’s neck. What was Roy up to?

Roy came to the table and slid a plate of food in front of Pete. “There you go. Waffles today—they look good. Eat up.” Roy began sawing off a large