by Linda Warren
“Would you like some water?”
“Please.”
He called the waiter and a glass of ice water was placed in front of her. She held it with both hands, letting the coolness soothe her shaky nerves.
“Better?” he asked as she took several swallows.
“Yes, thanks,” she said. “You were saying?”
“Oh.” He tried to remember what he was talking about. “My friend, Clay, and I started the computer company in San Antonio. It was slow that first year, then it took off like a rocket. Later, we moved the business to Dallas and it’s still doing very well, although Clay’s not with me anymore. He fell in love with a school teacher from Alaska, sold his share to his brother and moved up there.”
After a strained silence, he said, “I promised to call and come back, but do you understand why I didn’t?”
No, I never will, she immediately thought. But he’d had his reasons. He’d loved his mother and he’d coped with her death in the only way he could. He didn’t know about Emily and the baby. He’d no cause to think that she might be pregnant; after all, they’d been so careful. Sadly, his love for her hadn’t been enough to bring him back, and she was the one who’d had to suffer.
Her fingers played with the linen napkin. “I used to rush home from school to wait for your phone call,” she admitted in a near whisper.
“Emily, I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” he said, his voice deep with emotion. “That first night I was home, I couldn’t sleep because I kept remembering our nights on the beach. Later, after the pain and fog had cleared from my mind, I wondered if you were seeing someone else. If you’d forgotten me.”
No, Jackson, I never forgot you. You left a reminder that stayed with me and will stay with me forever.
Her eyes challenged his. “But you forgot me rather easily, didn’t you?”
He looked embarrassed, and she was glad he wasn’t going to lie about it. “Yes, I guess I did. With my mom’s illness and the computer company, I didn’t have time for much else. I’m not proud of that. We made a lot of promises under the stars and I should’ve called and let you know what was happening. I regret my lack of concern for your feelings, but I couldn’t talk about my mom’s death to anyone—not for a long while.” He stopped for a second. “I’m sorry sounds too contrived for my actions, and my only excuse is that I was totally unprepared to deal with the death of someone I loved.” He stopped again. “When I saw you today, I realized I hadn’t forgotten a thing about you. I remember all the little details and—”
She broke in. “Please, Jackson, let’s not dredge it all up.”
He swallowed some wine, his eyes never leaving her face. “Okay, but I want you to know that time meant a lot to me.”
But not enough to bring you back.
She clasped her hands in her lap, thinking maybe that was all she needed to hear…now. Back then, she’d needed a whole lot more. But it really didn’t matter any longer. “What happened to your father?” she asked, trying to get out of dangerous waters.
Her shift in conversation didn’t escape him, but he let it go. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to talk about the past. “My father sold the business and retired. He bought a cabin on a lake and spends his days fishing and playing dominoes with his buddies. He still misses my mom, but he’s a survivor.”
“He never remarried?”
“Nope, he’s more interested in catching that big fish than catching a woman.”
“I’m sorry about your mother,” she said again.
“Me, too, Emily,” he responded readily. “And I’m sorry I let my grief overshadow everything in my life—even my word to you.”
She bit her lip; they were moving onto dangerous ground again. “Did you get married?” she asked abruptly, then wished she could take the words back.
“Yeah, a few years later I decided to settle down. My wife, Janine, was a…”
His voice trailed off as he saw the look on her face, and he quickly added, “I’m not married anymore. I’m divorced.”
“Oh,” she murmured weakly. It wasn’t the fact that he’d been married that startled her. She already knew that. But when he’d said my wife, an odd feeling came over her. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized she’d always seen herself in that position. Which was crazy, completely crazy.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be,” he told her. “It was one of those marriages that should never have happened, and it didn’t take us long to figure out we were wrong for each other. I wanted kids and a family. She didn’t.”
“Why not?” slipped out before she could stop it.
“She’s a lawyer and works for a big law firm in Dallas. Her total focus was on advancing her career. I understood that. My career was important, too, and we both put in staggering hours. After about two years, I asked her to take some time off and have a baby. She refused, saying she wasn’t ready.” He paused for a sip of wine. “She has two sisters who’d given up careers to raise their children. She said she wasn’t doing that. After four years, I realized she wasn’t going to change her mind, and by that time we’d grown so far apart that the marriage was basically nonexistent. We both wanted different things from life and we mutually decided to call it quits.”
“You wanted children?” she asked quietly.
“Sure” was his quick response. “I was an only child and I planned to have at least two kids, the big house, a dog—the whole nine yards. I just forgot to mention those things to Janine.”
He wanted kids. She didn’t know why she was having a hard time grasping that. Maybe her guilt was spiraling out of control.
“I guess I was looking for what my parents had—a home filled with love and laughter.” He drank more wine. “But I don’t see that in my future now. I’ll soon be forty and I’ve resigned myself to being a fatherless bachelor.”
You’re not. You have a daughter.
The words burned in her throat and she ached to tell him. But what good would it do? Their daughter would be eighteen in August—a grown woman with a life of her own, which didn’t include them.
He interrupted her disturbing thoughts. “How come you never married, Emily?”
“How do you know I’m not?”
He grinned. “I asked someone.”
So did I. So did I.
“Well?” he persisted.
She shrugged. “I was busy with medical school, then establishing a practice. I guess I never had time to develop a lasting relationship.”
“But there were men?” He couldn’t prevent the question.
Her eyes met his. “Yes, but no one ever overshadowed my career.”
Or you.
He raised an eyebrow. “So that’s what a man has to compete with?”
Emily suddenly noticed that the restaurant was almost empty and it was getting late. She could feel herself yearning to tell him about their daughter—but she couldn’t. She had to get away from him. “I really have to go. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”
Jackson reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet; he laid a credit card on the table. The waiter immediately took it and disappeared. Within minutes he was back, and Jackson and Emily got to their feet. They left the restaurant in silence, stepping out into a pleasant May evening. The night sky was clear and bright, and the traffic made a loud humming sound, but Emily was hardly aware of her surroundings as she walked to her car. Jackson followed.
She opened her car door and turned to face him. She didn’t know what to say. So many conflicting feelings surged through her.
“I enjoyed seeing you again,” he said.
“Me, too,” she replied, and meant it. Certain questions had been answered, certain issues resolved—and yet she recognized that the past would always be with her. There would be no absolution. After hearing Jackson talk about kids, that was clearer than ever.
“I’d like to see you again.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s wise.”<
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“Why not?”
“Because we can’t recapture our youth…”
Her words trailed away as he stepped close to her—so close she could smell his aftershave and feel the heat from his body. He cupped her face in his hands, and her heart pounded in her chest in anticipation of what she knew was coming.
His lips gently touched hers, then covered them with a fierce possessiveness she remembered despite all the years that had passed. He didn’t touch her anywhere else. He didn’t need to. Her lips moved under his and she kissed him back. She couldn’t help it.
“I don’t think we have to recapture anything,” he whispered against her lips. “It’s there. It’s always been there. Ever since I first saw you in your mother’s kitchen.”
He was right. The feelings were still alive. Oh, God, they were. Her body was on fire and she hadn’t felt this way since…since those winter nights on the beach. But she couldn’t give in to this. She wouldn’t.
“Jackson—”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“No, I—”
“Yes,” he asserted, and she got into the car without another word. Just before he slammed her door, he said, “Tomorrow, Emily.”
EMILY DIDN’T REMEMBER much of the drive home. She kept hearing Jackson’s words. “Tomorrow, Emily.” Over and over they echoed through her head, her heart, and she realized she’d crossed a dangerous line between the past and the future.
Now she was older and much wiser, and the words shouldn’t affect her so intensely, but they did. Had she learned nothing? Yes, Jackson’s explanation for not coming back was a good one, but still… If he’d loved her as much as she’d loved him, nothing would have kept him away. Instead he’d managed to resume his life without her and she had dealt with hers as best she could.
She’d made bad decisions, and nothing she did now would change that. She sensed that seeing Jackson again was another bad choice. It was probably best to leave the past where it was—in the past. She couldn’t handle anything else.
As she climbed into bed, she decided there would be no tomorrow for her and Jackson. She’d call him and make an excuse. Having settled that, she felt better. Surprisingly she fell asleep easily.
Except that she had a different dream.
And Jackson was in it.
She didn’t wake up crying or trembling. She was actually smiling, and that shook her. She tried to understand this new dream. She and Jackson were on the beach and they were holding a little girl. Their daughter. Emily kept saying “I’m so glad I told you,” and he kept saying “Thank you.”
She pulled her knees up to her chin, trying to still the joy inside her. She didn’t have to look far to grasp the meaning of her dream. She wanted to tell Jackson about their daughter.
She closed her eyes, trying to collect her thoughts. The dream was also about guilt—her guilt. It was consuming her, and it had become more voracious since yesterday. Since his return. Her subconscious had clarified what she had to do and why. She would tell him. He deserved that much; he believed their time together was innocent and beautiful, but it was marred with so many ugly things.
She would tell Jackson about their baby…and the adoption. She wasn’t sure what his reaction would be, but he had a right to know. Beyond that she didn’t want to think. But she had to.
Whatever the consequences, she’d pursue this unaccustomed urge, this need to tell him the truth. Maybe it was the love in his voice when he talked about having kids. Maybe that had triggered her dream. Or it could just be plain old selfishness. She wanted to tell him because she had a desire to share her precious baby with someone. She’d never done that. She’d never spoken of her daughter or the adoption and the grief she’d experienced, and she desperately needed to. She wanted to talk about all of this with her baby’s father…Jackson.
She curled up in bed. If she told him, there would be disbelief in his eyes, along with hatred and anger and disgust. She would see herself through his eyes. Could she endure that?
Grabbing a pillow, she held it tight. “Yes,” she said into the darkness. Right or wrong, she would tell Jackson about their daughter.
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN JACKSON REACHED the hotel, the first thing he did was call his friend and partner, Colton Prescott.
“Hey, Jackson, I’m glad you’re home,” Colton said before Jackson could speak. “I’m dealing with the Conley contract, but they want to talk to you.”
“I’m not home. I’m still in Houston.”
There was a pause, then, “Problems with the system?”
“No, everything’s running fine.”
“Then why aren’t you back?”
“Because I’ve met someone and I’m staying for a few more days.”
This time there was a very long pause. “Met someone? You mean a woman?”
Jackson laughed at Colton’s disbelieving tone. After his divorce, he’d tried to date, but it became more trouble than it was worth. Every woman he got involved with wanted to rush him to the altar, and he wasn’t ready to tackle marriage again. These days he spent time with his dad and at the company. When he went out, it was strictly for pleasure and he made that clear up front.
“Yeah, a real live woman.”
“Damn, those women in Houston must be a helluva lot better-looking than the ones in Dallas.”
Jackson laughed again. “It doesn’t have anything to do with looks. She’s someone I knew a long time ago.”
“O-o-oh.”
From that drawn-out exclamation, Jackson knew what Colton was thinking. “It wasn’t some one-night stand. This woman means a lot to me.” As he said the words, he realized that he cared a lot about Emily—probably always had.
“Really. Well, that sounds interesting.”
“I’ll let you know when I plan to return.”
“Wait a minute.” Colton stopped him before he could hang up. “What am I supposed to do about Bill Conley?”
“Use some of that Prescott charm on him.”
“But he wants the system in by the first of the month. That’s pushing it and I refuse to do that. Fast work creates glitches that take much more time to fix.”
“I’ll talk to Bill in the morning. Will that help?”
“It sure will. He treats me like a twelve-year-old.”
Jackson smiled. At thirty-two, Colton had a youthful exuberance, but there wasn’t a thing he didn’t know about computers. Once their customers recognized that, everything went smoothly. “See you next week,” he said, ending the conversation.
“Oh, Jackson, your dad called.”
A knot formed in his stomach. “Did he say if something was wrong?”
“No, he just wanted to talk to you.”
“I see,” Jackson said slowly. He’d spoken with his dad last night and everything was fine. So why had he called again? Eager to get off the phone, he added, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
As soon as he’d hung up, he dialed his father’s number. Six rings. Seven… Finally the phone was picked up. “Hello,” a sleepy voice said.
“Dad, it’s Jackson.”
“Jack, my boy, why are you calling so late? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, Dad, I’m fine, but Colton said you called the office. Thought it might be something important.”
“No, not like you mean. I was just mad and upset, and I wanted to talk to you.”
“Why were you upset?”
“Because of that damn aunt of yours. You’ll never believe what she did. She came to visit and brought a woman friend with her. A friend she assumed I’d be interested in. How many times have I told her to stop matchmaking? But does she listen? No. She doesn’t hear a word I say. She wanted me to go dancing with them. Can you imagine? Dancing! I told her in no uncertain terms what she could do with that idea and she got angry. I figured she’d be calling you and complaining about her mean old brother.”
Jackson took a patient breath. It was the same ongoing argument between his fath
er and aunt. Aunt Maude was lively and sociable, and his dad was happy being by himself, fishing or doing whatever he pleased. Aunt Maude didn’t understand his attitude and Jackson had a hard time with it at first. But he’d finally realized his father had spent years in the work force and after his mom’s death, just wanted some peace and quiet.
“She worries about you,” Jackson told him.
“Well, if she worries so damn much, she can come over here and cook me a meal every once in a while.”
“As a peace offering, why don’t you take her out to dinner? Someplace nice.”
“You know Maudie. She’ll want to go someplace where there’s drinking and dancing.”
“Dad,” Jackson sighed. “Aunt Maude’s always been there for you and it won’t hurt to humor her.”
A pause followed. “All right, all right,” he said irritably. I’ll take her out to eat. But if she brings another floozy over here, I’ll—”
Jackson cut in. “Just tell her how you feel—politely.”
“I do, but I think she has a hearing problem” was the wry answer. “Why didn’t you come home today?”
Jackson didn’t miss the quick change of subject, but he was glad. He’d rather not talk about Aunt Maude and how she got on his dad’s nerves. He preferred to discuss Emily.
“I was going to, but I met someone.”
“Really? Of the female persuasion?”
“Yes, Emily Cooper. Remember her?”
A pause. “Don’t think so.”
“Sure you do. Owen Cooper’s her father—a fishing guide on the coast. We stayed at their home that November before Mom died.”
“Yeah, I remember now. A pretty thing with big brown eyes. You were crazy about her, weren’t you?”
Jackson didn’t answer that. His father knew he’d been a lot more interested in Emily than in fishing. Instead, he said, “She’s a doctor now and works at the clinic where we installed the computers.”
“You don’t say.”
“Yes, and I had dinner with her tonight and I’m planning on seeing her tomorrow.”
“Life is strange,” his dad remarked.
“Sure is. I’ve got to go. Be nice to Aunt Maude.”