by JoAnn Durgin
“Okay, fine. You told me you hadn’t kissed anyone since that night we were together in San Antonio, and there’s no way Chloe’s adopted. She’s a carbon copy of you.”
Her eyes moved to his in a heartbeat, blazing. “How do you know that?” She untangled her legs and jumped to her feet, hands on her hips. “Have you been spying on me?” Her voice had risen to a dangerous level. Starting to pace, she crossed her arms.
He shouldn’t have surprised her in her home like this. What a foolish move. A bullheaded mentality was an asset in business but not when dealing with the fragile emotions of a woman, and especially a woman like Winnie. No doubt, she viewed it as nothing short of a violation of her privacy. Still, she’d let him inside her apartment. “Not really. Okay, look, here’s the deal. I came over earlier and talked with Dottie. She told me she was going to pick up Chloe and that you’d be home around five-thirty.” She scowled at that; he hoped he hadn’t caused trouble for the kind-hearted woman. “Look, fault me if you want, but I’ve been sitting in my car, waiting for you to come home. This is a conversation we need to have in-person.”
Spying a photo of Winnie and Chloe on the end table, Josh reached for it, staring as he held it in his hands. Winnie was silent, watching him. “She looks just like you. Beautiful. Happy.” He gave her a pointed look which she ignored as she stared at something on the wall behind him. Her foot was wearing out the carpet and she bunched the sleeves of her robe with her fingers. “Does she share any characteristics with her father?”
Winnie blanched and put her hand up to her throat. Her reaction filled him with immediate regret. That question was way too personal and he had no right to ask. “Forgive me. That question wasn’t fair. I respectfully withdraw—”
“Mommy?” Both Josh and Winnie startled, and he turned. Chloe stood in the doorway of a bedroom, a kitten nestled in her arms. As she came into the living room, he heard Winnie’s sharp intake of breath. It passed through his mind she might demand her daughter go back to her room, but she still looked too stunned to speak.
What’s wrong with this picture? Why does she act petrified that I’m meeting her child?
Chloe—all bouncy blonde curls—marched straight to the sofa, stopping in front of him. She was so sweet, she stole his breath. “What’s your name? Are you my mommy’s friend?” She kept her attention focused on the kitten since it was a bit squirmy.
“Yes, I’m a friend of your mother’s. My name’s Joshua Grant, and I understand your name is Chloe. That’s a very pretty name. What’s your kitten’s name?”
“Butterfinger.” She stroked the kitten. “You can pet her if you want. She’s a friendly kitty.”
Josh laughed. “That’s a creative name.” Appropriate too, with its dark brown and orange-red markings. She stepped closer and he ran his hand over the kitten. He’d always preferred dogs but a cat was the wiser choice for the daughter of a single, working mother. The small creature purred and he felt the rumble beneath his fingers.
“What’s creative mean?”
He darted a glance at Winnie.
She gave him the first semblance of a smile he’d seen since he arrived. “She likes to learn new words.”
Chloe nodded. “I learn ten every day.”
“Well,” he said, “that’s quite admirable. Creative is like when an artist paints a picture, or when an author writes a book—”
“Like when Jesus made the world?”
That stopped him cold and his words stuck in his throat. He managed a nod. “Yes, exactly.” His voice was raspy, clogged with emotion. “And admirable is what your mommy is, Chloe. She’s very brave and smart, and a great mommy for you. Just the way God made her.”
Winnie’s eyes were wet and she rested one hand over her heart.
Chloe nodded. “God made you a twin.”
Even Dottie knew he was a twin. Had they all shared a round table discussion about it?
“That’s right. I have a twin sister named Rebekah.” Maybe that’s what she found fascinating, that his twin was a girl.
“Uh huh. She’s beautiful, like Mommy.” Her eyes met his for the briefest of seconds and something he couldn’t define passed between them. Soon enough, Chloe returned her attention to the kitten. He looked away, his mind racing.
Winnie cleared her throat. “Chloe saw the wedding photos from Natalie and Marc’s wedding. Beck and I were bridesmaids together.”
“Right.” She’s telling me Beck doesn’t know about Chloe.
Chloe looked at him again, still holding Butterfinger. “Mommy and me are twins, and you look like a prince. Mr. Josh, will you be my mommy’s—”
“Okay then, Buttercup,” Winnie interrupted. He’d never seen her move so fast. Clamping a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, she turned her around. “Why don’t you go in the kitchen and give your kitten some food?”
“I already fed her.”
“Then feed her again.”
Chloe frowned. “The cat doctor said—”
“You know what?” Winnie corralled and steered her in the direction of the small kitchen. “Cat doctors don’t know everything. Why don’t you go play with Butterfinger while I talk with” —she stole a quick glance his way— “Mr. Grant, and I’ll come and make you some hot chocolate in a few minutes.”
“It’s not time for hot chocolate yet. Are you making supper tonight?”
Josh fought the urge to grin. From all appearances, Chloe also inherited her mother’s stubbornness.
“Of course. Whatever you want, sweetie. Anything. Go. Play. With. Butterfinger.”
“’Kay. Bye, Mr. Josh!” Even a child as young as Chloe had pretty good instincts and knew not to push her mother further. She disappeared into the kitchen. It was crazy, but he missed her the moment she left. This small child single-handedly managed something no one else had ever done—she’d wiggled her way into his heart in a matter of minutes. With her inherent sweetness, her trusting innocence, Chloe pulled on his heartstrings. Yanked was more like it. Just like her mother. What kind of man wouldn’t marry Winnie in a heartbeat and claim Chloe as his own? His thoughts threatened to go in a hundred different directions, but he refocused his eyes on her.
Lord, help Winnie understand how much I care about her.
She kept her back turned. Her shoulders rose and fell a few times but whether from deep sighs, silent sobs or quiet laughter, he couldn’t be sure. This was Winnie so anything was possible. Perhaps it was best to hold his tongue and wait it out. When she turned around to face him, at least she wasn’t gasping for air or clutching at her throat. But her shoulders slumped and she did look like she might dissolve into tears at any moment.
Why does she look like she lost her best friend? Why she cried so much in his presence was another point worthy of consideration. His only motive in coming to see her was to find out about her child. He also wanted to find out if what he felt was reciprocated and warranted making the trip between Baton Rouge and Houston every other weekend. And certain holidays and birthdays. His gut instinct told him something was going on, but he wasn’t privy to it. If he couldn’t grasp the significance of whatever it was, no way could he understand its ramifications.
Winnie’s blue eyes lifted to meet his and she looked not unlike a martyr. “Ask, Josh. Just ask.”
Chapter 17
When he started to rise from the sofa, she waved him back. Coming slowly across the room, Winnie seated herself beside him again. After opening her mouth a couple of times, she closed it, her eyes watery. A lone tear streaked down her cheek and she wiped it away.
Josh breathed out a deep sigh. “Look, it’s pretty obvious you had a relationship you’re reluctant to tell me about for some reason. Either that or you were artificially inseminated and—”
Winnie gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. “What?” She managed to keep her voice low but her glare was intense enough to shoot down that idea. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing.”
“Okay, maybe not.
Sorry.”
That defiant chin raised and she lowered her voice. “Maybe that’s the thing to do in your inner circle but not in mine.”
“I understand. Chloe wasn’t planned.” Her incredulous look told him he’d pushed too far. Again. “Trust me, I’m the last person in the world to presume anything, and I’d never judge you. I’ve made far too many mistakes in my life to point fingers at anyone else. Look, all I wanted was to meet her. The one thing I don’t understand is why you were so obviously against me meeting her.”
Shaking her head, Winnie brushed the back of one hand over her damp cheek. “Ask me how old she is.” She fussed with her robe again; he reached for her, stilling her hands. She lowered her eyes to her lap.
What does that have to do with anything? “Okay. How old is Chloe?”
“Almost four.”
A little older than I thought.
Winnie swallowed hard and looked up at him. “Chloe was born in mid-May, a week after Mother’s Day. Nineteen ninety-eight.” A shuddering breath escaped.
Josh sat, elbows on his knees, running a hand over his jaw, focusing his gaze on the pattern of the carpet. Quiet beside him, Winnie waited for him to do the math since she couldn’t seem to tell him the straight-out truth. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks and she made no pretense of wiping them away.
“San Antonio.” It came out strangled. “And. . .” he began, his voice trailing. Is this really happening, Lord? If nothing else, it would explain that inner nudging to find out the truth, that insatiable need to know more about her little girl.
“I didn’t lie to you, Josh. I never have and I never will. You were the first and only man I’ve ever. . .” She hesitated before drawing in another shuddering breath. “As I told you before, you’re the last man I ever kissed.”
His chest tightened, as if an iron fist pummeled him. Never in his life would he have expected something like this. “Chloe is mine? She’s our child, Winnie?” He prayed Chloe wouldn’t overhear and come back into the living room. If she did, he wasn’t sure how he might react. It would certainly be a good test of his emotional fortitude. What a shocking revelation, and nothing like what he’d imagined.
I’m Chloe’s father.
“Yes, Josh. Did you see her eyes? They’re yours, right down to those flecks of amber. She might have gotten a lot from me, but she got those incredible green eyes and her smile from you.”
“How? Why?” Josh croaked, swallowing the huge lump lodged in his throat.
“Because we didn’t do anything to prevent it from happening,” she said. Her voice sounded much stronger now. “That’s the answer to the how. As to the why, oh, I don’t know.” She waved her hand in the air. “Maybe God knew I needed someone, a reminder of you to keep with me when I couldn’t have you in my heart otherwise.” She stopped, her eyes widening, as if she’d said too much. Another tear slipped out and fell to the carpet. “I pray you don’t hate me for not telling you,” she said. “I should have and I’m so very sorry. I wasn’t sure what to do. You had enough problems of your own without being saddled with a pregnant woman. I was an emotional wreck. When I didn’t see you, didn’t speak with you, it seemed easier all the way around. Safer. So, I didn’t say anything, and the longer I kept silent, the easier it was not to say anything. The passage of time was both a curse and a blessing.”
Josh stared into space for a long time, not speaking. For one thing, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t taken the steps to ensure this very thing didn’t happen. It was something he’d always taken care of first or he might have other offspring running around he didn’t know about. That thought made him cringe and pierced him to his core.
“I know it’s a lot to absorb.”
Unless he was mistaken, that was relief he heard in her tone. Probably thankful her secret was finally out in the open. He shot her a look, and she lowered her eyes. She might have interpreted it as anger, but he was powerless to define it. Maybe Chloe had a word for it, but he sure didn’t. He rubbed his hand over his forehead, staring blindly at a painting on the opposite wall. “How could you not tell me, Winnie?”
“How could I?”
She was right. He wouldn’t have been ready. Wouldn’t have been ready until the last year or so, truth be told. Still, he had a right to know.
“The Josh Grant I knew in the San Antonio work camp was reckless and immature, but you were so handsome and charming, I couldn’t resist you. You were my friend. You made me laugh. And, that night,” she said, “I felt truly loved and cherished for the very first time in my life.” She reached for his hands, held them tight, and waited until he moved his eyes to hers once more. “The man you’ve become—the man sitting here with me now and the man I’ve seen since you’ve been here in Houston—is strong, solid, loves the Lord, and is capable of so much.” She touched the side of his face, her touch featherlight as her fingertips grazed his cheek. “This man is ready for the truth.”
He swallowed. “Do Sam and Lexa know I’m Chloe’s father?”
Something flitted through her eyes and she withdrew her hands. “They’ve never asked, but I’m sure it’s because they already know. To my knowledge, only Lexa, Sam and Amy know I have a daughter. No one else from TeamWork knows. You can rest easy on that point. The only times I’ve been away from Chloe involved Marc and Natalie—first to be in their wedding and then at the TeamWork mission Sam cooked up last year when Natalie had amnesia. I hated to leave her, but when Sam told me they were in trouble and needed our help, I didn’t hesitate. You know how it is with Teamwork, the all for One, and One for all mentality kicks into high gear when Sam calls.”
Josh shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not worried about any of that.” It was just the first thing he could think to ask, no matter how pointless. “I can see what an excellent mother you are. You don’t need to sell me on that point.”
She visibly stiffened. “I’m not trying to sell you on anything or anyone, Josh.”
“Does Chloe know?”
“No, of course not. She’s too young.”
“I’ve seen how bright she is. She’s going to start asking questions.”
Winnie twisted her fingers and looked suspiciously close to wringing them. “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that? When she found out you’re a twin, that’s as close as she’s ever come to asking how babies are born. I realize it’s only a matter of time.”
They stared at one another for a few seconds. How a child Chloe’s age stayed still long enough not to interrupt them was a miracle in itself. Even he knew enough about kids to know how stir-crazy they got after a few minutes.
Winnie rubbed her hands up and down her robe-covered arms. “Maybe now you understand why I was so nervous around you. I didn’t know how to act, but I knew I had to tell you. I did intend on telling you before you went back home to Louisiana. I don’t know how much you remember from that night in San Antonio—”
He remembered everything about that night, but he was still trying to slow his breathing.
Winnie rose from the sofa and walked to the front window. “You’ve got parents and a sister who love you and would do anything for you. I never had that.” She lowered her head. “All I had was a mom who left when I was ten, lived her life like there was no tomorrow and had a one-night stand with a stranger who killed her.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “If nothing else, she taught me how important life is. How valuable a gift my daughter is. I’m going to be the mother for my child the way my mom never was for me.”
How she managed all that without breaking down was admirable, her inner strength indomitable. When she looked over at him, the pain in her eyes tore at his heart and ripped right through him like a physical blow. She looked so sad, and every instinct within him urged him to hold her tight and protect them forever—both Winnie and Chloe.
In a heartbeat, Josh hauled himself off the sofa and moved behind her in a matter of seconds. Planting his hands on her shoulders, being as gentle a
s he could, he turned her to him. “Oh, Winnie.” Not knowing what else to say, what to do, he opened his arms.
Thankfully, she didn’t protest and came willingly to him, laying her head on his chest. He stroked her hair and pressed his lips to the top of her warm head, inhaling the scent of her hair. She still uses the same shampoo. His hold on her tightened, and his heart raced.
“Then my dad and stepmom. . .” She couldn’t finish and pressed her cheek against his shirt. Although she hadn’t revealed too many details on that fateful night, she’d said enough. He knew she’d been emotionally abused, but as bad as that was, Josh prayed it didn’t go any further. If it had, were physical wounds easier or more difficult to heal than emotional ones? He knew Winnie left home at eighteen, never looking back. Somewhere along the way, Beck told him Winnie’s dad and stepmom died in a single-car crash, and drugs and alcohol were involved. His heart hurt for her when he first heard it, as it did now. So much tragedy in her life. It wasn’t fair, but the Lord never promised fair. Only that He’d be there.
She raised her chin, still encircled in his arms. His hands moved across her back, brushing against the softness of the robe. Talking about her family in San Antonio started all this between them in the first place, and even though he was older and wiser in some respects—forgiven, redeemed and everything else—he would always be a flesh-and-blood man, still wanting this woman. He closed his eyes and loosened his hold, inhaling a deep breath.
Lord, keep me strong.
“I meant it when I told you Chloe’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” Winnie leaned her forehead against his chest before raising her head again, looking him in the eye. “God gave her to me, Josh. She’s given me the love I never had growing up. That unconditional love that doesn’t expect anything in return. Chloe’s filled all the holes in my heart so much it’s overflowing with a love I never knew even existed.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks again and a few slipped down his. “Shh,” he whispered, kissing her temple. She sniffled and moved her arms around his waist.