Was he as honest with himself? He had to admit that the desire between them was an instrument he could use to convince her to stay.
After an hour of conversation and hors d’oeuvres, Allie guided everyone to their seats at the dining room table.
Before they began the meal, Chase produced two bottles of wine. To everyone he suggested, “Let’s start with the Niagara. Tell me what you think.”
It seemed odd, but Jillian hadn’t yet sampled Willow Creek wines.
Chase first poured the white wine for everyone and watched as Jillian took a sip and savored it on her tongue. He could tell from her smile and pleased expression that she liked it.
“Too grapey for me,” Scott commented.
But Allie joked, “You like wine so dry the taste will last on your tongue for a week.”
Everyone laughed.
When Chase poured from the second bottle—a Chardonnay—that was more to Scott’s liking. Soon everyone was enjoying the wine of their choice with the meal.
Carly Forsythe, who was a pretty blonde around Chase’s age and seated to Jillian’s right, remarked, “Greg told me you and Scott and James are planning a camping trip in May into the Appalachians. He’s already started to buy gear. You do know you won’t get any sleep for as long as you’re gone. His snoring will echo through the mountains.”
Scott slapped Greg on the back. “Your secret’s out.”
Laughter spread around the table.
The four of them had discussed the trip a few months ago but everything had been different then. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to go,” Chase informed them, exchanging a look with Scott. He knew his friend would understand.
“Not go?” Greg bellowed. “Of course you’ll go. Those vines aren’t going to wither and die because you go away for a week.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Chase said matter-of-factly. “I need to keep my eye on Marianne.”
“I thought you said they repaired her heart and she’s doing fine,” James Stanton said.
“She is right now, but there’s a lot going on.”
“Why don’t you tell them,” Scott murmured. “It’s all going to come out eventually. Shouldn’t your friends be the first to know?”
With a glance at Jillian, Chase saw she looked horrified. But this was his decision to make. He’d known the guys and two of the women since high school. When he’d played football, Allie and James’s wife, Trish, had been cheerleaders. Scott had been on the team, and James and Greg had always been around, ready for any prank or escapade they could think up.
Everyone would know eventually.
All eyes were on him now, including Jillian’s. Hers were a bit pleading but he’d had enough of keeping facts hidden. He’d had enough of lies even if they were well meant.
“Before Marianne’s surgery, I discovered I’m not her father.”
Trish gasped.
Carly’s mouth rounded in an O.
James and Greg looked stunned.
As quickly and simply as he could, he explained what had happened. Then all eyes turned to Jillian. “You must be devastated,” Carly said.
Trish was shaking her head. “I just can’t imagine it. Didn’t you say you lived in Florida? What are you going to do?”
Jillian looked shell-shocked for about half a minute. Then in that way she had of composing herself, her shoulders squared, her chin lifted, and she told Chase’s friends, “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t worked it all out. It hasn’t been that long since the DNA results came in.”
“My goodness,” Trish said. “What an awful mistake. Are you going to tell Marianne and…Abby, is it?”
“Eventually.”
“If you switch them back, or even if both of them live with one of you half a year, you’re going to have to explain something to them. Are you going to sue the hospital?” James asked.
“That hasn’t even come up,” Chase responded. “It wouldn’t help our situation any.”
James added with a weak smile, “Maybe not. But you could pay for the girls’ education that way.”
Suddenly standing, Jillian pushed back her chair. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to freshen up before dessert.” In the calm graceful way she had, she left the room, and Chase knew he had to go after her.
Leaving the others still discussing the idea of a lawsuit, he caught up to her in the hallway that led to the powder room.
When he clasped her elbow, she wrenched away from him. “I don’t want to talk, Chase.”
“Everyone is going to find out eventually.”
“Everyone? Who is everyone? Are you going to make an announcement everywhere you go?”
“Be reasonable about this. These are my friends.”
“The least you could have done was let me know you had told Scott. I might have been more prepared.”
“I’ve known him since high school, Jillian. We talked after I found out my blood type wasn’t compatible with Marianne’s. You told Kara. What’s the difference?”
“I knew Kara wouldn’t spread it all over Daytona Beach.”
“The real problem here is—you haven’t accepted this yet. You have not accepted the fact that Marianne is your daughter and Abby is mine.”
“Why are you able to accept this so easily?” she wanted to know, and now the anger was gone from her voice.
“Easily? Is that what it looks like to you? Every time I look at Marianne, I feel torn up inside. Every time I look at Abby, I think about the three years I’ve missed with her. Nothing about this is easy. But I’m a pragmatist. It is what it is, and we have to deal with it. So you’d better take your head out of the sand and face reality.”
Looking at her, the sadness in her eyes, the love she had for Abby that she thought she had to let go of, he wanted to take her in his arms. Every time his elbow had brushed hers at dinner, his knee had grazed hers, his breath had inhaled her perfume, desire had stirred and reminded him of his body’s needs.
There was something in Jillian’s eyes he couldn’t name—distrust, suspicion, anguish, maybe even resignation?
He saw her take a bolstering breath and then she said, “Go back to your friends, Chase. I need a few minutes to myself.”
Slipping into the powder room, she locked the door.
He’d thought tonight would give them a break from their problems. He’d thought tonight would neutralize the situation between them. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
It was almost midnight when Jillian and Chase returned home. The lights were blazing in the downstairs of the house and Stan’s truck was parked in front of the garage.
“Chase—” Jillian couldn’t finish, worried something had happened to the girls. She unbuckled her seat belt quickly and rushed out of Chase’s sedan.
In a moment he was beside her. He opened the door, and they went down the hall to the kitchen. “Mother would have called us if anything was wrong,” he decided, but there was worry in his tone.
When they reached the kitchen, they found Eleanor seated at the table, a blanket around her shoulders.
The microwave beeped and Stan took a mug from inside, dropping a tea bag into it.
“What’s going on?” Chase asked, eyeing his uncle and his mother.
Sliding out of her coat, Jillian hung it on a hook, noticing how gray Eleanor looked.
“She has a fever of one hundred and two degrees and a sore throat. When she felt woozy, she called me.”
Chase went over to his mother, pulled out a chair in front of her and sat down.
“Did you feel poorly before we left?”
“My throat was a little scratchy, that’s all,” she said in a croak. “Later, I felt dizzy and afraid I’d pass out with the girls. Stan came over to put them to bed.”
“Why didn’t you call us?” Jillian asked.
Eleanor gave a little shrug and winced as if the motion hurt. “I didn’t want to interrupt your evening. It wasn’t as if something was wrong with the girls.”
/> An expression crossed Chase’s face and Jillian wondered what he was thinking. He said in a clear, low voice, “You’re as important as the girls.”
Tears welled up in Eleanor’s eyes, and Jillian wondered if she was feeling that poorly or if something else was going on here that Jillian didn’t understand.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Stan stepped in, plunking down the mug of tea on the table beside Eleanor. “She needs to be in bed. She’s always waiting on everybody else. Now she needs to be taken care of.”
Eleanor laid a calming hand on Stan’s arm. “Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine in the morning.”
“I doubt that,” Stan retorted, “but I know better than anyone that you’ve got a mind of your own. Since reinforcements have arrived, I’ll head out.”
At the door, Eleanor stopped him with, “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he mumbled, then hurried down the hall and out the door.
“He’s a good man,” Eleanor said pensively, looking after him.
“He’s right about one thing,” Chase said, rising to his feet. “You need to be in bed. Let me help you upstairs.”
“I’ll bring your tea and maybe a glass of juice. Vitamin C might help,” Jillian added.
“Apple juice, not orange,” Eleanor demanded. “Apple won’t hurt my throat.”
Jillian almost smiled. Eleanor would have her way, one way or the other.
After Chase helped his mother to her bedroom, keeping his hand on her elbow to steady her, Jillian offered, “If you want to check on the girls, I’ll stay and help your mom.”
“I’ll be back shortly.” He gave his mother another concerned look.
“Don’t worry, Chase. Tomorrow I’ll be fine,” Eleanor said.
“I’ll bring one of the monitors in here and if you need anything, all you have to do is say so.”
When he left the room, Eleanor mumbled, “Always thinks he knows best. I’ll keep it turned off.”
The evening had been emotionally draining for Jillian. After she had gone back to the dinner party, everyone had acted as if they’d hadn’t been trampling in her private life. Eleanor’s gruffness now was an endearing distraction. The older lady didn’t like being the center of attention and, like everyone else, she wanted her own way.
“Chase just wants to make sure you’re taken care of.”
When Eleanor lifted her gaze to Jillian’s, Jillian saw pain there and didn’t understand it.
“He has enough on his hands with the winery and Marianne and…Abby.”
Jillian didn’t react to that, just pulled back the covers on the bed. “I’ll check on you before I go downstairs in the morning, if that’s okay. I can fix breakfast.”
When Eleanor pulled the blanket tighter around her, Jillian could see a shiver go through the older woman. “Would you like me to get your nightgown for you?”
“Middle dresser drawer,” Eleanor said, holding the blanket tight.
After Jillian took a blue flannel nightgown from the drawer, she laid it on the bed. “Would you like me to leave while you get ready?”
Eleanor eyed her and then said, “No need for that. When I joined the tennis club I had to get used to locker rooms.”
“You play tennis?”
“I did for years, but I had to stop a few years back. Arthritis in my shoulder. I miss it.”
“I bet you do. Are you doing anything in place of it?”
“I still ride Giselle,” Eleanor said, referring to her mare. “You look good on a horse. Did you ride much in Florida?”
“A little. I’m no expert but I can make a horse go where I want him to. When I was a teenager, a friend of mine had a farm. Her dad would lead us on a trail ride every once in a while, but I always had an old horse that just followed along.”
“Chase rides most mornings. You should go along.”
Jillian had only been out riding a few times in the afternoon when the girls were napping. She realized she’d like to ride with Chase sometime.
In a few moments, Eleanor had thrown off the blanket, undressed and changed into her nightgown, then slipped into the bed and pulled up the covers. “Chase said you grew up in Vermont. I hear it’s beautiful there.”
“It is, but it’s beautiful here, too.”
“Are your parents living?”
“My mother’s gone. After she died, I had to sell the house in Vermont.”
“And your father?”
“I have no idea where he is. I had an address for him when I graduated from college, but he didn’t come to my graduation and after that, every letter I wrote to him was returned.”
“Your parents were divorced?”
Jillian nodded. “When I was eight.”
“Divorce is probably something a child never quite gets over,” Eleanor decided. “That’s why I would never consider one.”
Thinking about Eric and what had happened between them, Jillian returned, “Sometimes there’s no choice.”
Although Eleanor hunkered down under the covers, she gave Jillian a long, penetrating look. “You and your husband had problems?”
There was no point in stalling her. “Yes.” Since Jillian didn’t want to have that conversation, she asked, “Is there anything else you need? Anything I can get you?”
Eleanor shook her head. “Leave the night-light on in the hall and I’ll be fine.”
When Jillian went to the door, she said, “I’m sure Chase will bring in the monitor soon.”
Jillian was pulling the door part way shut when Eleanor asked, “Are you going to stay in Pennsylvania?”
Jillian had told herself she hadn’t made up her mind, but now she said, “I can’t imagine leaving either of my daughters,” and on that she went out into the hall, not wanting to be questioned further.
If she moved her life to Pennsylvania, would the Remmingtons become her extended family?
If she moved her life to Pennsylvania, would she want them to?
Much to Eleanor’s dismay, she was still under the weather the next day. When Jillian brought her meals, Abby and Marianne were close by. However, Chase had ordered them not to go into Eleanor’s room. He didn’t want Marianne picking up a virus while she was recuperating. So Marianne and Abby stood outside the door, peeking in, giggling and waving.
Midafternoon, Chase returned to the house to check on Eleanor and found the girls in the living room with Jillian. She’d just finished putting Marianne’s hair in pigtails like Abby’s though the pigtails were much stubbier because her hair was shorter.
“Daddy, Daddy. I have tails,” she said with excited glee as Chase came into the room.
“I see you’ve got tails.” He smiled and suggested to Jillian, “It’s a beautiful day out there. I thought they might want to walk over to the barn.”
“I wanna wide Pwancer,” Abby stated, picking up on their conversation.
It had been over three weeks since Marianne’s surgery and at her doctor’s appointment a few days before, he’d lifted restrictions. She’d passed her last echocardiogram with flying colors. Still, Jillian didn’t know if Chase would want her riding. And if Abby did…
“I don’t know, Bitsy-bug. Maybe you can just pat Prancer,” Jillian suggested to Abby.
Marianne looked up at her dad with a frown. “I don’ wanna ride.”
Jillian knew Marianne was afraid of horses, including her Shetland pony, Prancer.
Crossing to Abby, Chase lifted her up high until she giggled. “You can sit on Prancer and Marianne can watch.”
“I don’ wanna ride Prancer,” Marianne repeated adamantly, shaking her head.
“You can get as close as you want,” Chase assured her. “I’ll take a few carrots along and we can give them all a snack.”
Jillian had seen the look in Chase’s eyes when he picked up Abby. He wanted to claim her, Jillian could tell, but the girls weren’t old enough to understand.
She noticed Chase watched Marianne as they made their way to the bar
n. She jabbered at Abby, stooped to pat Buff and skipped a few steps.
“She’s going to be fine,” Jillian assured him.
“I’ve been worried about her since she was born. It’s hard to let go of that.”
The sun was dazzling, the air redolent with pine and new leaves and warm earth. As they walked to the lower level of the barn, Jillian saw how Chase seemed to be a part of all of it. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt today. His upper arms were muscled, his body fit and trim and powerful-looking. He belonged here, and she couldn’t understand why it had taken him so long to return.
Abby wanted to feed the horses carrots and Marianne wanted no part of that, either. Chase broke the carrots in half, and lifted Abby so she could feed the mare Eleanor rode and, with a little coaxing, the Appaloosa he took on trail rides. Marianne stayed close to Jillian’s side, away from the stalls that opened into the corral. At first Abby giggled as Chase’s horse, Desperado, nuzzled her hand. Then she said so fast it was hard to catch, “I wanna wide Pwancer now.”
Chase set her down. “All right. Let me get a saddle.”
Prancer was a brown Shetland with a black mane. He had a sweet disposition and stood fairly still as Chase positioned the blanket on his back and then cinched the girth on the saddle. Abby had no fear of the pony and while Chase was readying him, she was petting his nose, running her fingers through his mane and laying her head against his chest.
“Nice pon-ee,” she crooned.
With avid curiosity, Marianne watched it all. After Chase lifted Abby into the saddle, he took the lead and walked her around the corral.
She laughed. “See, Mommy! See, Mommy!”
“I see.” Jillian didn’t want Marianne to feel left out so she picked her up and held her as Buff snuffled the long grass at the fence. Finally Abby had enough and Chase began to lead the pony and rider back to the barn once more.
“I wanna pet him,” Marianne whispered close to Jillian’s ear.
“You do?” Jillian was surprised and then realized Abby’s ease with the animals must have had an effect.
Marianne nodded.
Their Child? Page 29