Something was off; too many steps had been skipped. From the beginning Justin had indicated his goal was to do anything necessary to make his son’s life as normal as possible. Anything but fall in love. Marriage without it was how far he was willing to go for his son. That was too far for her.
“As much as I care about Kyle, that’s not good enough.”
A muscle jerked in his jaw. “We like each other. That’s important and a hell of a lot more honest than what I had before. Or what you had.”
“And that’s the thing. You told me after we, you know...” Had sex was what she was trying to say. Her cheeks burned, but she had to soldier on. “You were very clear that I should understand there was no chance of anything serious between us. You didn’t want to lead me on.” She looked at their joined hands and pulled hers away. “So I have to ask, Justin. What’s changed?”
“It just seems like a good time,” he said, not really answering the question.
Emma studied him and didn’t think he was deliberately lying, but this wasn’t the complete truth. Everything he’d said described the relationship they had and it had been fine until she revealed her true identity to her family. She’d done what she came to Blackwater Lake to do. So...
And then she got it.
Her mission was accomplished and he believed she would go back to her life in California. His life here would be disrupted, and more important, Kyle would be upset. A legal commitment would trump an employment contract and keep her here in Blackwater Lake. But the plan was fundamentally flawed.
He looked down at his feet. “So, I’ve made my case. What do you say?”
Deep down she’d hoped very hard that he would come up with the right reason to propose marriage. It broke her heart that he hadn’t. “There’s a problem.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Maybe it’s just a problem for me.” She straightened and took a deep breath. There would be no taking this back. “You used the wrong L-word.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“It’s perfectly clear to me. We like each other, that’s true. But when I get married, it won’t be for convenience. Love is the only reason to take that step.”
“So you believe in it.” He wasn’t asking a question.
“Yes.” She stood and moved away as the pain in her heart started to get bigger. “Without love, marriage is nothing but a pretense. My whole life has been a lie. I already had a fake family and I don’t want another one.”
“That’s not what it would be like.” He stood, too, and looked down at her.
“You’re wrong. A little while ago you talked about doing a procedure to help a wound heal. The thing is, you have a wound inside that you simply refuse to treat. What you’re suggesting isn’t right for me.”
“I’ll make it right.” He reached for her.
Emma backed away from his touch, not trusting herself to resist him and the offer that was so very wrong. And she suddenly knew without a doubt that she couldn’t stay here with him.
Justin wasn’t the sort of man who took no for an answer. He would continue to make his case. Where he was concerned, there’d been enough weak moments for her not to know that if one more mistake happened, it would be the biggest one of all.
“I have to go, Justin.”
“Of course. You’re tired. We’ll talk in the morning—”
“No. I mean, I’m leaving. I can’t stay here.”
Shock darkened his eyes, followed quickly by something that looked a lot like a sense of betrayal. “What about our agreement?”
“I’m sorry for the short notice. We can work something out until you find someone to live in, but I can’t stay here in the house with you. Goodbye, Justin.”
* * *
A short time later, Emma knocked on the door where the Crawfords had said goodbye to her and Kyle just a little while ago. It was now about eight-thirty. Shifting nervously, she kicked herself for not calling ahead, but there’d been a lot on her mind after leaving Justin’s. If anyone came to her door at this hour, she’d ask who it is before she opened it. Fortunately, this was Blackwater Lake and only moments passed before Michelle was standing there.
“Emma? What’s wrong?”
“Is it all right if I come in?”
“Of course.” Without another word the woman stepped back and held an arm out, welcoming her.
She toyed with her keys. “I have a favor to ask and it’s completely all right if you want to say no. So be honest—”
“Anything you need. Tell me.” She closed the door.
“Would it be all right if I spent the night here with you?” She held up her hand as Michelle opened her mouth. “Before you answer, it will probably be more than one night.”
“You can stay with us as long as you want.” Michelle looked concerned. “Where’s the baby?”
It was a logical question. Every time Emma had been here since revealing the truth at the birthday party, Kyle had been with her. “At the house with his father.”
That explained almost nothing, but she was afraid to say more, afraid she would burst into tears. Justin’s marriage-of-convenience proposal was still too painful and raw. She’d left the house with her jacket, purse and a whole bunch of confusion.
“Can I make you some tea?”
“That would be nice.” Hard liquor would be better, but she didn’t share that. For now, she was grateful Michelle wasn’t pushing for details.
They walked through the house’s dim interior and Michelle flipped on the kitchen light as she entered the room. Emma sat on a barstool at the black granite island separating the food-preparation area from the family room. The sink was to her left with a window above it, and she faced the stove topped by a stainless-steel microwave. An eating nook was on her right.
It was a homey room with a white baker’s rack holding cookbooks and knickknacks. There were pictures everywhere. Suspended from the ceiling was a copper rack where pots and pans hung. Behind her, a flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall with a sofa and chair grouped around it. The furniture was conspicuously empty.
“Where’s Alan?” she asked.
“Out with the boys for some male bonding while they’re in town. I’m quite certain that beer and a pool table will be involved.”
“Sounds fun,” Emma commented.
“I’m sure they think so.” She took an orange teapot on top of the stove and filled it with water from the faucet at the sink. Then she set it on a front burner and turned on the gas. “Frankly, this house is way too quiet with them gone. It’s really nice to have female company, and you’re actually doing me a favor being here.”
“I’m glad.”
Emma had been so upset on her way out of Justin’s house it had slipped her mind that her brothers were here. “Are you sure there’s room for me to stay? I didn’t think about the guys being here.”
“Pierce and Zach are checked in at Blackwater Lake Lodge. Only Kane is here”
While she talked, Michelle took mugs from an upper cupboard, then opened a canister on the counter and pulled out two tea bags. She held them up so Emma could see what kind and she nodded her approval of Sleepytime. It was doubtful that would live up to its name, but maybe the warm drink would do something about the cold inside her.
“So,” Michelle continued, “I don’t want to hear another word about putting anyone out.”
Emma was pretty sure the other woman did want to hear words about why she’d asked for asylum so suddenly at night. That was something she wasn’t ready to discuss. At the same time, she had to admire Michelle for her restraint. Not many women could hold back the questions she must have. It was very much appreciated because Emma needed to get her emotions under control first.
For the past year she’d been tryi
ng to figure out who she really was. Since she’d become nanny to his son, Justin had been there for her and now she was reeling because he’d asked her to marry him when he clearly didn’t love her.
Despite all that confusion, one thing was crystal clear. From the moment Michelle opened the door to her, she’d felt safe. For now she’d rock that feeling. She was procrastinating again but decided to cut herself some slack.
The teakettle whistled and Michelle turned off the burner then poured water into two tall mugs. She pushed the green one over to Emma and wrapped her hands around the orange one before walking to the other side of the island and taking the tall stool next to Emma.
She blew on the steaming liquid then said, “So, Thanksgiving is this Thursday.”
Obviously the woman had picked what should have been a neutral subject, but Emma’s heart hurt thinking about the upcoming holiday. She’d been so looking forward to fixing dinner for Justin and Kyle, to spending the day with them. That wasn’t happening now. Why couldn’t he have left everything alone?
Michelle filled the silence. “Seems like thirty seconds ago it was summer and now it will be Christmas before you know it.”
“I love this time of year,” Emma felt obliged to comment, and truth was always best. “The tree. Lights everywhere. Santa Claus and shopping.”
“Did you believe in Santa?” It was clear the other woman put a lot of effort into keeping her tone neutral, but her smile was strained around the edges.
“I still believe.” The smile lost a little of the strain and made Emma glad her words were light. “No one told me he wasn’t real, so I’m keeping the magic alive.”
“Good for you. Kane is thirty-two years old and I think he still holds a grudge against Zach for spilling the beans. They were eight and four when that particular Christmas magic died a painful death.”
Emma experienced a wave of profound sadness. A Christmas crisis that had turned into a warm family memory had been stolen from her. All she could do was hear about it. “Why would he do that?”
Michelle laughed. “Alan and I took the boys to see Santa on Christmas Eve. The three of them were just too excited to be still, and channeling the energy seemed like a good idea at the time. Then Zach sat on Santa’s knee and told him something that he wanted and hadn’t shared with us.”
“What was it?”
Michelle shook her head. “I can’t even remember. But it was too late to shop. Needless to say, the item wasn’t under the tree the next morning. Also needless to say, he wasn’t a happy camper, and to salvage the day, his father and I decided it was time to tell him the truth.” She shrugged. “The next thing we knew, he’d decided to share the information with his younger brothers.”
“Once it’s out of the bag, there’s no way to put it back inside.”
“Isn’t that the truth. We wanted to strangle him.” She smiled fondly at the memory. “At least one of our children still believes.”
The youngest of Emma’s brothers was four years older than she was. She’d have been too young to have the secret spoiled. What she’d said about still believing in Santa Claus had been the right thing to say and she was pleased.
“I’m glad you’re glad.” Emma took a sip of her tea and holidays through the years flashed through her mind. All the memories and milestones a mother would have missed. She felt a responsibility to somehow make it up. “You know, I have an album of pictures you might like to see. It’s a collection of photos of me that my mother—”
The other woman was just lifting the mug and her hand jerked, spilling the hot liquid. “Darn it. That was clumsy.”
She set it down and slid off the stool then hurried to the sink and a roll of paper towels on a holder beside it. Emma didn’t know what to do or say. She shouldn’t have called the woman who’d kidnapped her “mother” in front of the one who’d given birth to her. It was a stupid mistake but habits were hard to break.
“I’m sorry.”
Those two words probably didn’t help, but what else could she say? The truth was out and tests had been done, proving she was who she claimed to be. They’d notified the police, who had closed the long-open missing child case. All should have been right, but it wasn’t. The wounds were still open and raw.
Michelle finally looked at her. “It’s all right.”
“I hope you know that I’d never purposely say or do anything to upset you.”
“I know. It’s just...” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Never mind.”
Emma slid off the stool. “Seriously, that was thoughtless and I—”
“Forget it.” Michelle threw wet paper towels in the trash then looked at the digital clock on the microwave. “You must be tired. Are your things in the car?”
“No. I didn’t pack a bag.”
“I see.” Clearly she didn’t, because questions and concern swirled in her eyes. “Well, I’ll find something for you to sleep in and we’ll worry about the rest in the morning. How’s that?”
“Thank you.” Emma meant that in so many ways.
Michelle was being awfully gracious in spite of that distressing slip of the tongue. Emma wanted her words back in the worst way. It was ironic really. She’d barely finished saying, in reference to the Santa incident, that once something is out of the bag, there’s no way to put it back. How she’d wished to be wrong.
Neither of them said anything as they walked upstairs. Michelle opened the door to a room with an adjoining bath.
“The sheets are clean. I always make up the beds right away after the boys are here because they have a habit of dropping in without warning.”
“Since I dropped in unannounced tonight, it appears that’s another inherited tendency.”
“I guess so.” The other woman smiled a little. “I’ll just get you something to sleep in.”
“Thanks.”
Alone, Emma looked around the room. There was a queen-size bed covered with a floral comforter in shades of pink and green. Across from the bed was a dressing table with a needlepoint rose on the cushion of the chair in front of it. There were pictures on the walls and three of them were coordinating prints. One was a little girl eating an apple while reading a book. Underneath, it said Fairy Tales. The second was a girl with a paintbrush stuck in a top-of-the-head ponytail captioned Budding Genius. Last was a character that looked like Cinderella, complete with poofy blue dress and cameo choker. It said, Little Princess.
This room had not been decorated with one of her brothers in mind.
There was a quick knock on the door. “Emma?”
“Yes.” She whirled around.
“Here you go.” Michelle set a pair of black-and-white flannel pajamas and a fuzzy pink robe on the bed. “We’re about the same height, so those should fit. They might be a little big.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Thanks so much.”
“You’re welcome.” She edged out the door. “If you need anything, just ask.”
“I will. I really appreciate this.”
“Sleep tight.”
Then Emma was alone and felt like slime for what she’d said. She wished Michelle would talk about it. This felt wrong and awful just when she’d thought at least part of her life was falling into place.
In the bathroom she washed up as best she could without her own toiletries and changed into the borrowed sleepwear. She’d just climbed into bed when there was another knock.
Emma turned the switch on the lamp beside the bed, bathing the area in soft light. “Come in.”
Michelle opened the door. “I forgot to tell you. If you get cold, there are extra blankets in the closet.”
“Okay.” She hesitated, then decided what the heck. “Can we talk?”
“Of course.” The other woman walked over to the bed and sat down at the foot
. “What’s on your mind?”
“What I said before. In the kitchen...” She picked at the soft green blanket. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I hope you know I would never do that on purpose.”
“I know.”
“It’s part of the reason I was so conflicted about whether or not to tell you who I am.” She blew out a breath. “I know she took me. I get that, but—”
“I was shopping.” Michelle had a look on her face as if she had gone back in time and was in that horrible moment. “You were in the stroller. Six weeks old. Just an infant. The beautiful little girl Alan and I had wished for after three boys. It’s no excuse, but I was so tired. I stopped in an aisle that was very close to the exit door and picked up a jar. It slipped out of my hand and broke. Pickles and juice went everywhere. I was embarrassed and distracted, trying to let an employee know about the mess so no one would slip and get hurt. It seemed only a moment, but when I turned back, you and the stroller were gone.”
The haunted expression had Emma sliding forward to grip her hand. “I can’t even imagine how that felt.”
“No one saw anything. You just disappeared. There was so much confusion, searching the store. By the time what really happened sank in, she was long gone with you.”
“That must have been awful.”
“An understatement.” She looked around the room. “Eventually we had to put your baby things away, but your father and I always hoped you were alive and would come home someday.”
“So this room was mine.” It wasn’t a question.
The other woman smiled. “Yes.”
“It’s beautiful.” Emma bit her lip, trying to figure out how to say this right. “The thing is, she did a bad thing and intellectually I know that. But she wasn’t mean or a bad person. She raised me, she was kind and loving. I thought she was my mother. That’s how I think of her, although now I’m also angry and confused. It will take a while for all of this to sink in.”
“Understandable.”
“But if that hurts you or makes you uncomfortable, I can leave—”
Finding Family...and Forever? Page 17