The Gift of Love

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The Gift of Love Page 4

by Lori Foster


  The day was sunny and hot, not a cloud in sight, and she and Wendy sang on the ride to the school. Wendy held her hand as they left the car in the parking lot out front and went inside.

  As usual, Wendy’s instructor was friendly and accessible, but Briana didn’t like to hover. It was important for Wendy to interact in a typical classroom atmosphere, and that didn’t include a parent who wouldn’t let go.

  As she pulled out of the school parking lot to the main street, Briana was thinking about that, about how Wendy had kissed her good-bye with no clinginess at all. Every day it seemed that Wendy changed, growing more confident, more independent. It was a wonderful thing to see, to take part in.

  Briana had gone only a quarter of a mile when she noticed a tractor trailer pull off a side street and crowd in too closely behind her. Glancing in her rearview mirror, Briana frowned and slowed, hoping to discourage the aggressive driver.

  In an obvious hurry, he reacted by accelerating and switching lanes to pass her, but he did so without first checking that it was clear. When a horn blared, he swerved back to her lane—and hit the rear right end of her car.

  The impact forced her car sideways, across both lanes. Briana tried to hit her brakes, to right the car, but an SUV plowed into her with jarring force.

  Her head snapped back and then forward again, hitting the steering wheel hard enough to snap her glasses in half. The air bags opened, all but suffocating her.

  It all happened so fast that Briana couldn’t think straight. She’d hurt her knee on something, and sticky blood dripped down into her eyes.

  She felt instantly nauseated, rattled, scared—and all she could think about was Jack.

  Through the driver’s door window, she saw that all around her, people had out their cell phones.

  A man got her door opened, looked her over, and spoke to her in a calm, confident voice. “Try not to move, okay? I think all that blood is from a cut on your head. Head wounds bleed like that. But I’d rather you stay still until we know for sure.”

  The kind, take-charge voice reassured Briana. “Thank … thank you.” Her head was swimming, and if she moved even a little, pain wracked her body.

  “Shhh.” He touched her shoulder. “Just breathe, okay? Paramedics are on their way.”

  She tried to say, “Thank you,” but nothing came out past the crushing pain in her chest.

  He reached beyond her to the floor where her purse had fallen and dumped. He pulled back out of the car with her cell phone. “I’m going to call someone for you, okay? You won’t be alone.”

  “No … ”The word emerged as a whisper, and Briana’s vision blurred. Oh, God, Jack was the first number in her phone, but if he got that awful call …

  He’d gone through this with his first wife, and he wouldn’t know that this was different. He wouldn’t know that Wendy was safe at the school.

  Briana tried again, but her vision receded, faded into nothingness. She breathed Jack’s name, and then oblivion took her.

  WITH his heart in his throat, his knees quaking, his guts in knots, Jack ran into the hospital. Too familiar. All too fucking familiar.

  He turned a circle in the entrance, unsure where to go, how to find her. A line waited at the reception desk, so he bypassed that and followed the signs to the ER.

  The white walls, the antiseptic smell, the milling of depressed, worried, or despondent visitors—it all closed in on him until only a red-hot, desperate rage kept him moving.

  He could not lose her.

  Someone directed him toward the ER reception, and another rubber-shoed nurse took him to a curtained cubicle.

  Pausing outside the curtain, Jack inhaled and tried to calm himself. The last thing anyone needed was hysteria. He was a man, her husband, and he had to hold it together.

  God, please let her be okay.

  He pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the small space—and then froze. Briana was on a bed, her head hastily wrapped with blood-soaked gauze, an oxygen mask on her face. Without her glasses, he saw the purpling bruises around her closed eyes.

  “Briana.”

  Her eyes snapped open, and she turned her head toward him with a wince.

  Emotion burned his eyes, tightened his throat. He couldn’t seem to move.

  Briana reached up and removed the oxygen. “Jack,” she whispered in a voice so faint he barely could hear her. “Jack, it’s okay.”

  He stared at her as he breathed hard, as he tried to collect himself adequately to sit with her, hold her, take care of her.

  Tears mixed with the dried blood on her cheek. “Jack.” She reached out to him in near desperation. “Wendy wasn’t with me, Jack. She’s at the school.”

  He swallowed hard, nodded. “I know that, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes looked heavy, maybe with pain medicine or just … pain. She licked dry lips. “You … you already knew?”

  If he didn’t sit down, his knees would give out. Cautiously, Jack lowered himself to the edge of her narrow bed. He touched the bandage on her forehead, felt the stiff blood still in her hair, and winced.

  “The principal reached me just as my meeting had gotten under way. The wreck was close enough to the school that they knew of it.”

  Her eyes sank shut. “Wendy? Where is … she?”

  Jack cupped a hand to her face. She was hurt but alive. Warm and soft.

  And his.

  “She’s fine. The school is caring for her.”

  “But …”

  “She’s playing, Bri. They’ll give her lunch and keep her busy until I can get there.” Such an amazing young lady, even now making others her main concern. “But you … you’re a mess.”

  Eyes huge and bruised, she said, “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t how we planned things. I never, ever wanted to add to your burdens.”

  She sounded so weak that Jack felt himself shaking. “Briana—”

  A nurse parted the curtain. “Jack Burke?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, good, I’m glad you’re here.” She pushed a rolling table with various items on it close to the head of Briana’s bed. “She’s been more worried about you than anything. But as you can see, with some TLC, she’ll be all right. The doctor just left her. We think she might have some broken ribs, and we’re getting ready to do some X-rays. On her leg, too.”

  Jack looked down, but the sheet covered her lower body. “Her leg?”

  “She hit her knee pretty hard. It could just be a deep bruise, but we want to check it.”

  The nurse’s easy attitude made him feel better. She displayed no sense of urgency, just competent care. “The cut on her head?”

  “That’s a doozy, isn’t it? But don’t worry, we’ll get her stitched up, and once she heals, you’ll never be able to see it. She was lucky that an off-duty EMT was on the road and called in the accident so quickly.”

  Briana said, “He was a very nice man.” She reached out for Jack. Without her glasses, she missed the mark a little, so Jack caught her hand and lifted it to his mouth. “I think my breaking glasses are what caused the little cut on my head.”

  “Little,” the nurse repeated with humor. She lifted the gauze and Jack got a look at the gash on her forehead. He grimaced for her.

  The nurse asked, “You don’t need the oxygen anymore?”

  Briana shook her head. “I can … breathe … okay.”

  “Uh-huh.” The nurse started to put the oxygen back on her.

  “Please. I need a minute to talk to him.”

  Jack kissed her knuckles. “Dear God, Briana, I thought …” Tears welled in her eyes, ripping at him, leveling him. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t. Please don’t cry.”

  “I’m sorry.” She hiccupped, sniffed, tried a deep breath, but couldn’t manage it. “I knew you would think the worst and that was the hardest part for me! I wanted them to tell you that Wendy was okay, but I … I don’t know. I passed out for just a second or something, and then I was in the ambulance and—”

&
nbsp; He put a finger to her mouth. “Of course I’m relieved that Wendy wasn’t in the car with you.”

  She drew in a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry about this.”

  He’d been a coward and a jerk, and now she was suffering for it when there was no reason. “Briana, I love you.”

  Overflowing with tears, her eyes widened. She blinked fast, glanced at the nurse in disbelief, and then back to Jack. “What did you say?”

  His voice broke. “You are so smart, Briana. How could you not know that I love you?” When she continued to watch him, he kissed her knuckles again and pressed her small hand to his heart. “I’ve loved you for a while, even if I didn’t admit it to you—or to myself. But you know me, honey. Do you really think I’d marry a woman I didn’t love just for convenience?”

  “I …” Her hand fisted in his shirt, and then, since she was so smart, realization dawned in her expression. “You love me.”

  Jack smiled at her, reassuring her. “So much, you can’t even imagine.”

  The nurse cleared her throat and stepped outside the curtain. Jack appreciated her patience and her tact.

  “I’m going to be out of commission for just a little while.”

  Did she really think that mattered? Jack braced his arms on either side of her on the bed and, being very careful not to hurt her, leaned down to kiss her forehead, the bridge of her nose, her quivering mouth.

  “I love what you do for Wendy, but what you do for me is pretty terrific, too.”

  “What do I do for you?”

  “Everything. You do everything for me.” He knew she didn’t understand, so he explained. “When Melanie died, part of me died with her. I just didn’t know it until you brought me back to life.”

  The nurse stuck her head in again. “Are we done romancing?” She smiled. “The doctor is waiting for us.”

  Jack stood. “We’re going to have a long, wonderful life together. There will be ups and downs, and we’ll deal with them. All that matters is that you’re with me. With us. Forever.”

  Her smile trembled, and finally she nodded. “Okay then. Send the doctor on in.” She put a hand to her aching ribs. “And you,” she said to Jack. “Go and get our daughter.”

  ava’s haven

  JULES BENNETT

  For Lily… always in our hearts

  one

  “I’m here for Carly Myers.”

  The Stratton Police Department didn’t seem too overly busy for a Friday evening, but at seven o’clock, the midsummer night was still young in the small town of Stratton, Alabama.

  Olivia smiled at Officer Jenkins, the thirty-something man who usually greeted her with a slight nod and an apologetic smile on the rare occasions she had to come into the SPD. Easing the creaky chair back, he came to his feet.

  “Have a seat, Miss Mathis.” He motioned to the area with folding metal chairs.

  Worried for Carly, Olivia didn’t have time to care that the only vacant seat was smack-dab in between a prostitute who had, literally, the bare necessities covering her breasts and what appeared to be a homeless man slumped down in his chair. Olivia feared one wrong move and the frail man would be either on the floor or, worse yet, on her.

  When her cell chirped from her purse, Olivia dug out her BlackBerry to check her texts. Ava’s Haven could run just fine without her, but she always kept her phone on the highest volume so as not to miss an emergency. Emergencies happened when least expected and at the most inopportune moments. She should know.

  “Livie.”

  Her hand froze around her cell, her heartbeat a bruising rhythm against her chest. The voice was just a little too close to her heart, a little too familiar in her mind.

  No one ever called her Livie. No one at the shelter, none of her friends. No one.

  Except Colin Parker.

  At the risk of memories best left in the past rushing to the surface, Olivia lifted her head, and sure enough, there stood the man she’d intended to marry. The man she’d intended to have children with.

  A stab of pain sliced through her as she settled a hand against her empty womb. So many memories flooded to the surface. They bypassed all the dreams she’d thought she’d buried, thought she’d never have to face again.

  She was wrong.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, his brows drawn together.

  Olivia came to her feet, well aware of the crackling tension settling in the air between them.

  “I’m here to pick up a friend.” She clutched her cell in one hand and her purse strap in the other, willing her knees to stay locked and keep her upright. “You work here?”

  She took in his shoulder holster, dark jeans with distressed pockets, and dark gray button-up shirt. His shoulders and chest were much broader than when she’d last seen him. Of course, that had been twelve years ago, when they’d both been twenty and in love.

  Or so the dream went.

  “Detective.” His eyes raked over her as if doing his own assessment. “Who are you here to pick up?”

  Before she could answer, Carly came down a narrow hallway with Officer Jenkins escorting her. The normally petite, beautiful girl now had puffy, swollen eyes. Her hair hung in stringy ropes that looked as if it had once been in a low ponytail. Her young, baby face had red scratches.

  “I’m so sorry, Olivia,” Carly cried as she fell into Olivia’s arms. “I—I … ”

  Olivia tightened her hold and smoothed the ratty blond hair down Carly’s back. “We’ll fix this. It’s okay.” Whatever “it” may be.

  When Carly had called crying, the only audible words were “arrested” and “pick me up.” Olivia hadn’t hesitated. Fear had radiated through Carly’s tone … a fear Olivia had once felt herself.

  The police station began to bustle, but Colin kept his dark eyes locked on to this private moment. Olivia really didn’t want to try to divide her attention between her past and her present. Her present, and Carly’s future, won hands down.

  As Olivia lifted her gaze, she caught the questioning look from Colin. He crossed his arms over his wide chest, leaving Olivia no choice but to look away. She couldn’t focus on Carly’s problems and helping her stay clean if she was thinking about how she’d made a mockery of her own life after Colin had left. Not that he was to blame. No, she’d brought all the evil, fatal damage upon herself.

  The past couldn’t be helped but the future could, and right now there were people who needed her. Starting with Carly.

  Olivia eased back and pulled a tissue from her jeans. “Here. Dry your tears so we can talk.”

  “You’re not mad?” The young girl sniffed.

  She offered a smile. “Do I look mad?”

  With mascara running all over her tinted, scratched cheeks, bright red nose, and quivering lips, Carly shook her head. “Thank you for coming. I promise I didn’t start the fight, Olivia. I was just in the wrong place … again.”

  Olivia hugged the girl once more. She knew all about being in the wrong place in life. Not so long ago, she’d turned to the wrong crowd and got sucked in before she ever knew what happened. By then it was too late and the repercussions had been deadly.

  But Olivia knew from experience, reprimanding Carly would get them nowhere. But maybe, by the grace of God, love, understanding, and patience would.

  “Ready to go?” she asked.

  Carly nodded and turned toward the door.

  “Miss Mathis,” Officer Jenkins called. “Here is her purse and I need you to sign here.”

  Olivia took the large pink tote and passed it over to Carly.

  “Livie.”

  She dropped the pen on the desk and turned to face Colin, for what she hoped was the last time. “Yes?”

  He glanced around the crowded station and stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Can we talk?”

  “Now’s not a good time.” Thank God she had a valid excuse to get out of his powerful presence. “Carly needs me.”

  The muscle in his jaw ticked, and he nodded in
understanding. “You still live here?”

  Olivia glanced back toward the door to see if Carly was waiting for her. “Yes.”

  “I’ll be in touch, then.”

  She whipped her head back around. “What?”

  “To talk.”

  One corner of his mouth kicked up slightly as if he were trying to hold back a grin. A grin that would no doubt have even more emotional memories rushing back.

  Great. Just great. She’d been in his presence for ten minutes, and she’d already experienced that intoxicating charm. Obviously he was just as potent now as he was then. But Olivia wasn’t naive, she wasn’t a dreamer. Not anymore.

  “Better go.” He nodded toward the exit. “It’s starting to rain and your friend is getting wet.”

  Thankful for an out but frustrated she’d been staring down the eyes of the past, Olivia rushed to the door and out into the now steady rain. With her arm protectively around Carly’s shoulders, she hustled her through the parking lot and into her cherry red Jeep Wrangler.

  Dealing with Colin was the dead-last thing Olivia had time for, not when Carly and countless other people needed support. And even if she did have the time, she wouldn’t indulge in teenage fantasies.

  Oh, who was she kidding? She didn’t have the mental capabilities to rehash anything from her past with Colin. That portion of her life only led to destruction.

  Talk with Colin? Was he serious? All that disastrous confrontation would accomplish would be opening old, deep wounds that Olivia couldn’t dwell on. If she did, she’d be worth absolutely nothing.

  People depended on her, so venturing down the path to the past was the worst possible thing she could do. Every bit of her time and energy had to remain on the future, not only for her own sanity, but for the welfare of everyone at Ava’s Haven.

  Luckily, Carly lived with a group of college girls who would watch out for her and who were extremely supportive. Once Olivia dropped her off and made sure she was okay, she promised to check back in tomorrow. But she made the girls promise to call if there was any sign of trouble.

  Carly was just like Olivia at that age—always eager to please others at the expense of her own happiness and trying to find her place in life. Not to mention they both came from broken homes, but who didn’t these days? Married couples who stayed together were becoming extinct … right along with Olivia’s own dreams of being a wife, a mother.

 

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