“Do you want me to hold you?” Jillian asked as they approached the horse.
When Marianne shook her head, Jillian set her on the ground.
With Abby sitting in the saddle, and Chase holding the head so the horse didn’t move, Marianne went up to Prancer and stood two feet away. They all waited.
“Try his neck,” Chase encouraged her.
Tentatively, Marianne reached up and her fingers briefly touched his coat. She giggled and pulled her hand back.
“Go ahead, honey,” Jillian encouraged her. “You can touch his mane, too.”
A little bolder this time, Marianne slid her fingers down a strand of the horse’s mane as Prancer lowered his head, then rubbed her palm against his neck. Laughing, she decided, “He’s fuzz-ee.”
After a few more pats, Jillian crouched down with her and held Marianne’s hand to the pony’s nose. She laughed all over again when she felt how soft it was.
When Prancer swished his tail at a fly and lifted his head, Marianne had had enough. Backing away, she said, “I’m gonna play wif Buff now.”
A few minutes later, the girls were playing hide-and-seek with Buff around the hay bales in the barn while Chase groomed Prancer.
Jillian asked, “Anything I can do to help?”
“This will only take a few minutes.”
Jillian couldn’t be idle, though. Finding another brush with the tack in the corner of the barn, she stood on the other side of Prancer, grooming him, too.
Every once in a while, her hand got tangled up with Chase’s and they’d gaze into each other’s eyes for a long moment. She didn’t know what to say or do or how to act with him. If she just kept her hands busy…
“You and Abby are good for Marianne,” he said. “She hasn’t gone near that pony since I bought him for her. I think Abby’s going to teach her how to be adventurous.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing,” Jillian warned him.
He laughed. “Marianne told me you made pancakes for her this morning. Pancakes with a face.”
“Just blueberries and a banana nose. Your mother was impressed, too,” she joked. His lingering smile made her stomach turn upside down.
“My mother isn’t used to being taken care of. She doesn’t usually let anyone attempt it.”
“She didn’t feel well and her defenses were down.”
Looking over her shoulder, Jillian saw Abby hiding between two hay bales with Buff while Marianne tried to find them.
“Why did you leave and not come back for so very long?” she asked. She knew it was a personal question, and she also knew he might brush it off.
However, after paying particular attention to grooming Prancer’s withers, Chase answered curtly, “I didn’t come back because of my father.”
“Your mother said you idolized him, that you followed him everywhere when you were a boy and that’s how you got interested in wine-making.”
“I did idolize him. I thought he was the epitome of what a man should be. Then I found out he wasn’t. He and I had differences we couldn’t conquer. I couldn’t work with him when I didn’t respect him, and that’s why my life took a different course.”
“What could have—?”
“I don’t like talking about my father any more than you like talking about your marriage. Or has that changed?”
They were both holding back. He wanted her to trust him and she couldn’t. Until she did, it was obvious he wasn’t going to open up to her. Maybe that was for the best.
“I see it hasn’t.” His voice was gruff.
Checking his watch, he said, “The reporter from the Clarion is going to be here in about fifteen minutes. She called me this morning. I’ve also gotten two more calls about having weddings here. Sherry and Tom must be spreading the word.”
“What did you tell everyone?” Jillian asked.
“I told them I’d get back to them. Are you interested?”
With a few weddings, with an article in the newspaper which would probably lead to more business, Jillian knew she could get a foothold in this area. She was good at what she did and word would spread. It was time to get off the fence and decide where her new life was headed, a new life with two daughters if she had anything to say about it.
“Are you sure you want Willow Creek to become a venue for weddings?”
“If it means you’ll stay here in Pennsylvania, weddings are fine with me. I’ll work around them.”
“I can’t leave Abby or Marianne, so moving here does seem to be the best solution. But I’m probably going to have to fly to Florida a few times to tie up things there. I’ve spoken to Kara about it and she understands.”
After he canvassed her face for a long moment, he nodded. “You’re making the right decision, Jillian.”
She didn’t know if she was, but she did know leaving either of the girls wasn’t an option. If she had to call Pennsylvania her new home, so be it.
And if she had to co-parent with Chase?
She’d watch her back, every step of the way.
Chapter Nine
When Chase came in the back door of the kitchen the following morning, he saw his mother sitting at the table with papers strewn in front of her. She was feeling better now and had taken over cooking meals again. However, she was letting Jillian pitch in, too.
Jillian.
With her agreeing to move to Pennsylvania, they’d taken care of one very big hurdle in parenting Marianne and Abby. But there were still more hurdles, and he intended to demolish those, too.
Going to the sink, he washed up. Spring weather seemed to have taken hold. Willow Creek’s seasonal workers were back on the grounds now, and he was overseeing for the most part.
Drying his hands on the towel, he glanced at the papers on the table. “What’s all this? Notes for the wine appreciation class you’re giving?”
“No, though I do have to get ready for that since it’s happening this weekend. About twenty-five people signed up.”
She picked up a business card and studied it. “These are documents a real estate agent gave me. Properties comparable to Willow Creek and what we could get for it. Stan thinks I should sell, that I’m getting too old for all the hassle. How would you feel if I did?”
When Chase had returned to Willow Creek he’d never expected it to be a permanent move, but he was enjoying the work as he used to when he was a teenager. He knew he could win awards with Willow Creek wines just as his dad had done years before when the wine-making process was all-important to him. Jillian and the girls seemed to like it here. When he was outside working, he could hear their laughter as they played. He was surprised Stan had suggested his mother sell it since it had been so much a part of her life.
“If you consider selling Willow Creek, I’ll buy it myself and give you the best price you could possibly get.”
At that, Eleanor’s gaze met his and she studied him for a long time. “I’ve always loved Willow Creek as much as you have, and I’ve always wanted it to be your legacy. I know we haven’t talked about this in years, but in spite of what you think, in spite of what you feel about me, I have always loved you as a true son.”
“Mother—”
“Let me finish. Your father loved you, too. That’s why he married me, so you could have a stable childhood. Why haven’t you been able to forgive us for caring about you so much? All we wanted to do was to protect you and give you the security every child should have.”
Knowing the time had come to set things right with his mother, he sat down across from her. “Do you understand how furious I was with both you and Dad for lying to me all those years?”
The severity of her face seemed to soften. “Oh, I understood. Do you understand how hurt I was that your father could never love me with his whole heart, but that I loved you both that way?”
He’d known his father had hurt her. That was obvious in the distance that had always been between them. But he’d never really realized how much he had hurt her himself. H
e’d been selfish in that because he’d only considered the lies and how they’d made him feel. “I should have let go of my resentment over the whole situation long ago, before Dad died.”
“Yes, you should have. But you didn’t. However, I don’t think it’s ever too late. I believe your father knows what’s in your heart and that you do love him. He disappointed you. I disappointed you.”
“It wasn’t just disappointment. When I found out the truth, suddenly I became this duty and responsibility that you’d taken on. Yes, you’d loved Dad, but you accepted me because of him.”
“That’s not true, Chase! Is that what you’ve been thinking all these years? My Lord, if it hadn’t been for you, I might not have married Preston.”
Chase felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “I don’t understand.”
“I knew Preston loved Doreen. I knew he thought she was his one great love. But I couldn’t have children.” After a few moments hesitation her cheeks reddened a bit as she confided, “As a young adult, I’d used an IUD and there was scarring. Your father knew that. He knew a baby was the best gift he could ever give me. You were that gift, Chase. You were the reason I married your father.”
There had been a barrier between him and his mother ever since he’d gone off to college. The secret had made him feel disconnected. Now looking back at his childhood, looking back at the way she’d always treated him with love, not with duty, he realized he’d done her a grave injustice.
He reached out and covered her hand. “I’m sorry I stayed away for so long. Do you know when I sat across from Doreen Edwards and saw the resemblance between us, all I could think about was that she was a stranger to me and you were my real mother? You always were and you always will be.”
Tears came to his mother’s eyes. “You don’t have to buy Willow Creek. It will be your inheritance. But now that Jillian has decided to move to Pennsylvania, certainly she’ll want a place of her own.”
“I’ve offered her the carriage house.”
“That place is a mess. There’s old furniture in there as well as old tools. And the plaster is cracked. We’ve had the water turned off for a while and it would need a heating system.”
“All that could be taken care of. It would be worth it to keep the girls here together on this property.”
“They would stay with Jillian?”
“No. I want equal access.”
“She won’t be happy about that.”
“Neither of us are going to be completely happy in this situation.”
Blinking away her tears and settling into her composed self, Eleanor said, “By the way, a reporter called…Margaret Gorman. She said the story’s going to run this weekend. She decided to do it in two parts, the first part now, the second part after the wedding.”
“That’s fine with me.”
“Did you know Jillian’s been up ‘til one or two the past few nights? She’s been working on those wedding plans after the girls go to sleep.”
“I wonder if starting up a business again here will be too much for her, now that there are two girls to look after.”
“I’m sure she won’t admit it if it is too much. She has a spine, that girl does.”
Something about his mother’s comment made Chase ask, “And you didn’t think Fran did?”
Eleanor didn’t pretend not to be making comparisons. “Remember, I only met Fran twice, once when you married and those few days you visited after she was pregnant.”
“And?” Chase prompted.
“And she was a very nice lady, but she was…bland. She didn’t challenge you. She didn’t stand up to you. With Jillian, when she knows what she wants, she goes after it. She’s not afraid to tell you exactly what she thinks…or me, either. In my book, that’s a good thing.”
“Where is she?”
“In the living room teaching the girls some kind of number songs. I suppose I’ll have to learn them, too.”
His mother’s voice was a bit dismayed, yet he saw the glint of amusement in her eyes. She might complain about learning kids’ songs, but she was going to enjoy every minute of it.
He thought about joining Jillian and the girls. He thought about Jillian’s heart-shaped face, her soft hair, her curvy figure, the remembrance of kisses that woke him in the middle of the night…and he decided he’d go back out to the winery instead. He and Jillian were too combustible, and somehow he had to learn how to handle the blaze and keep it banked so that Marianne and Abby came first.
Over the following week, Chase found Jillian consulting with him often about Sherry and Tom’s wedding. Her questions were legitimate, and he knew she needed his opinion so he could tell her if what she wanted to do would interfere with the running of the winery. However, this additional contact, in the office, in the wine-tasting room or even outside without the buffer of tiny chaperones or his mother, reminded him how much he wanted to kiss her again, reminded him hunger was a moment away, reminded him he was a man with needs though he’d shoved them aside for a good long time.
Even at other times, she seemed to be everywhere in his life—on the phone in the living room with the caterer, helping his mother in the kitchen, just outside his line of vision playing with the girls and Buff. Her cell phone rang often now and most of the time it was Sherry and he realized how obsessive brides today could be, simple wedding or not.
On Sunday morning, he brought the weekend newspaper inside. Jillian was making pancakes, looking beautiful with her hair long, wavy and flowing around her face, looking sexy with her baby-blue sweater and leggings hugging every curve. He ignored the arousal that demanded his attention and sat at the table, concentrating on the paper.
It wasn’t long, however, until he came to the Style section and stopped short. First he looked at the pictures. Some were those he had shown Sherry with the gardens in full bloom. Another was a long shot of Willow Creek with the house and winery. A closeup of the winery itself was paired with the history of the vineyard. The story, based on questions the reporter had asked Chase, was well written.
The only aspect of the article he didn’t like was his picture staring back at him. He recognized the photo. The reporter had done her homework. It had been published in a D.C. paper when he’d won an award.
“We made the Sunday edition,” he said matter-of-factly over the girls’ laughter and Jillian’s sweet voice.
Immediately, Jillian was by his side looking over his shoulder, pancake turner in hand. Her hair almost brushed his cheek as she leaned forward. She smelled like pancakes mixed with flowers, and his gut turned. That wasn’t from hunger—at least not hunger for breakfast.
“The photos are good,” she decided as she skimmed the article. “Is all of it accurate?”
As he leaned away from her, his voice was brusque. “Accurate enough.”
When she glanced at him, he held her gaze, filled with the desire to hold her. When she licked her lips, he practically groaned. They glistened from that bit of moisture from her tongue, and he thought about tasting her again.
Eleanor crossed to Jillian and took the pancake turner from her hand. “They’ll burn,” she said with a straight face. There was a twinkle in his mother’s eye that Chase hadn’t seen there before.
Flustered now, her cheeks flushed, Jillian said, “This article is a public relations consultant’s dream.”
He thought about the dream he’d had last night of Jillian and what they’d been doing in his bed. “I didn’t expect the paper to give it quite this much space.”
“Did you give her your photo?”
“No. But it was in the public domain. A photographer from a D.C. paper had taken it.” To change that subject, he advised, “You’re going to have to come up with a name for your new business.”
“I suppose so. She names me as the event planner for the wedding, but…”
The phone rang then, and Chase was glad for the distraction. “I’ll get it,” he said, pushing back his chair and moving away from temptation.
A few minutes later, he was crooking his finger at Jillian and holding his hand over the phone. “Someone read the article in the paper and they want you.”
“Me?”
“You plan weddings, don’t you?” he asked, amused.
“I guess that might become my specialty.”
By that evening, Chase was no longer amused. He was ready to turn off the damn phone! The winery had an answering machine and a recording about hours and services. But the women who had called had been persistent. They’d found the residence for Willow Creek and they’d wanted to know how to get in touch with Jillian Kendall. Jillian had been on and off the phone all day. As of tonight, there were six more weddings scheduled at Willow Creek. He was going to be surrounded by flowers and tuxedos and jittery brides for the summer. He felt invaded, much too bothered by Jillian being relatively close by and in dire need of a night ride on Desperado.
During dinner, there was yet another call. After Jillian returned to the table, she announced, “We have a big wedding for next spring.”
“This whole thing might have been a mistake,” he grumbled.
“You’ve changed your mind about using the vineyard for wedding ceremonies?”
“I’m more concerned about the time you’re going to spend working. Do you know how many times those calls have taken you away from Abby and Marianne today?”
Jillian’s brow furrowed. “A business is a business, Chase. I’m not organized yet. I’ll have to get a private line just for business calls so potential clients can leave messages. Don’t forget, I’ve been doing this since before Abby was born…before Marianne was born,” she amended.
“You have to know how much you can take on, but I don’t want to see Abby and Marianne unhappy because you’re too busy to take care of them.”
Eleanor suddenly spoke up. “You know I’ll help out.”
“That’s not the point. No one can replace…a mother.”
He could see that fighting spirit flood into Jillian. Taking a deep breath, she looked at his mother. “Could you take the girls into the living room for a bit? Do you mind?”
“I don’t mind at all,” Eleanor said, getting to her feet. “Abby, Marianne, let’s go see if we can find that box of chocolates I hid away for dessert.”
Their Child? Page 30