Although she almost gasped, Jillian withheld comment so Chase would go on.
“I always sensed a distance between my parents, something not quite right. When I went to Scott’s house or other friends’ houses, their parents were…different than mine. I didn’t know how to explain that until I found out the truth.
“How did you find out?”
After a moment, he said, “When I was eighteen, I decided to spend a couple of weeks in Europe with friends. I needed my birth certificate to get a passport. It was in the attic in a safe box. On the certificate I found another woman’s name—Doreen Edwards. Rushing to my dad with it, I learned the story. My father had had an affair with Doreen Edwards, who was a singer. She wanted a career and not a baby. When she got pregnant, she was going to have an abortion, but Dad convinced her not to. Eleanor had always had a crush on him, always loved him. Their families had been neighbors since they were kids. Dad knew that and he asked Eleanor to marry him and help raise the child—me.”
Her heart ached for the eighteen-year-old boy who must have been devastated. “I can’t imagine finding that out, Chase. What did you do?”
“I was so angry with both of them…most of all with Dad. I had put him on a pedestal and he fell off of it that day. All my respect and admiration for him turned to dust. Most of all, I think I felt that way because I knew he’d never loved Eleanor as he’d loved my birth mother. I’m not sure he ever made a real effort to.”
“Did you talk about this with him?”
“I was too angry for talking back then. There were a lot of silences the rest of that summer. Then I went to college and I didn’t come back except for very short visits. After I got my doctorate, I moved to D.C.”
“You were estranged all that time?”
“We were still estranged when Dad died. I regret that now. I feel guilty as hell about it. I suppose I’ve come to realize that everyone has feet of clay in the right situation. Part of me is still angry that he lied to me all those years, though.”
“What about Eleanor?”
“The truth of the matter is, once I got over the hurt, once I realized she’d been backed into a corner, too, by keeping to my dad’s wishes not to tell me, I wasn’t as angry at her. At first I felt the bonds we’d shared hadn’t really existed. But as the years passed, I always thought of her as my mother. I just told her that a few weeks ago, and I think we’re okay for the first time in a long while.”
“What about your biological mother?”
“I met her. Once. We had nothing in common, and she didn’t want a relationship. So that was that.”
Jillian clasped his arm. “Chase, I’m so sorry. That’s why you told me secrets damaged lives, isn’t it?”
“Secrets always come back to bite you. That’s why we have to explain to Abby and Marianne as soon as they’re old enough to understand what happened.”
When she was silent, he asked, “Do you want to get out for a while? I have a blanket.”
Something about the way he asked was anticipatory, and she wondered what else he had to tell her.
“Sure. This is a beautiful spot.”
Once they were seated on the blanket, looking toward the creek, Jillian couldn’t help leaning toward him and clasping his arm. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. Young adult years are tough enough as it is.”
“Yours were tough?”
“At that point, I was still trying to get in touch with my father. I would search on the Internet and get a lead to his address but then I’d write and the letter would come back.”
“He didn’t come to your wedding?”
It seemed many of Chase’s walls had come down as he’d shared his background with her. She could do the same, at least with this.
“I had gotten an address for him and sent him an invitation. But when he didn’t even call, let alone show up, I gave up. He might have a new family somewhere and doesn’t want his old one interfering.”
“I got the impression that that’s why my biological mother didn’t want to see me. She had her life and didn’t want to disrupt it.”
Leaning closer to Jillian, Chase cupped her chin in his palm. “Our lives have been disrupted by the baby switch.”
As his thumb moved slowly over her bottom lip, back and forth and back and forth, she realized he didn’t expect a response.
In spite of herself, she’d fallen in love with Chase. The attraction between them had become so much more. She didn’t begin to know how she was going to deal with it.
As the breeze carried the scents of spring, Chase kissed her and laid her down on the blanket. She didn’t even think about resisting because she wanted this, too. It had been weeks in coming. Chase’s kiss was hungry and claiming and so deep and fervent, all she could do was give freely. When he broke the kiss, she wanted more and she knew he could see that in her eyes.
With a deep groan, he kissed her again and pulled her T-shirt from her jeans. His hand slid up underneath it and he tore his lips from hers once more yet kept nibbling, kissing her chin, her neck and her throat. Her hands were on his arms, kneading the taut muscles, wanting to touch more of him, yet totally engrossed in letting him touch her.
As he kissed her temple, sucked on her earlobe sending chills down her spine, his fingers unhooked the front clasp of her bra. Then he was holding her in his palm, running his thumb over her nipple, making her restless and needy and wanton.
When his hand stilled, she wondered what had happened. At the same time, he stopped kissing her.
Opening her eyes, she gazed up at him, feeling the loss of his touch keenly…deep inside.
His brown eyes were dark with his desire for her. But he said, “I’m not going to take this any further until I ask you a very important question.”
She waited.
“Will you marry me?”
Chapter Eleven
Stunned by Chase’s marriage proposal, Jillian could only think of one thing to ask. “Why?”
He didn’t seem thrown by the question, but then that was Chase. Unless Marianne or Abby were involved, he was fairly stoic. “We have a heartbreaking situation here that can’t be settled many ways. Should the girls live with you or me? How and when and where? I think marriage would provide the perfect solution.”
“Marriage is rarely a solution,” Jillian protested, thinking about Eric.
“Let’s face it, Jillian. There’s tremendous chemistry between the two of us. Why fight it? Why can’t we go into marriage as if it were a business deal that would benefit both of us?”
“A business deal?”
He looked frustrated for a moment and then he shrugged. “It would be more than that, of course, because we would start sharing our lives. We’d sleep together, eat together, care for the girls together. Those are strong bonds.”
Yes, they were strong bonds, she thought. But what about love? What about finding a soul mate? Deep down in her heart, part of her believed Chase could be hers. She’d been afraid to even think about taking that leap. Probably because he wasn’t free of his past. Probably because she wasn’t free of hers.
She’d thought she’d fallen in love with Eric and what had that gotten her?
It had brought her Abby and now Marianne. She loved both girls, and she loved them dearly. How could she ever be separated from one of them? Or keep them from Chase?
However, marriage was like jumping from a plane without a parachute and she’d still have to trust Chase. Could she do that?
“I need time to think about this.”
His voice was low and husky. “I’ll give you all the time you need.”
He was gazing at her as if he wanted her. However, could she believe he’d be going into this marriage in good faith? Or was he just trying to manipulate her into staying close by so he could be a father to both girls?
She had to be sure before she gave him an answer.
When Chase reached out and brushed her hair away from her temple, he declared, “We’d be go
od together, Jillian. I think you know that.”
The simple sensation of his fingers in her hair made her tremble. Yes, they would be good together—in bed.
But marriage was so much more than that. She still believed marriage should last a lifetime.
On Sunday afternoon, one section of the mall parking lot was covered with straw. As Chase held Marianne’s hand, he noticed Jillian was holding Abby’s. The girls were enthralled with all the parents and kids, colorful balloons, life-sized rabbits—adults dressed in bunny costumes holding baskets. Each child would receive a basket and when the whistle blew, they would scramble in the straw to find as many plastic eggs as they could. Those eggs would be translated into prizes later, everything from candy bars to stuffed animals. Food vendors and trucks were parked around the periphery of the parking lot selling hot dogs, French fries, ice cream and funnel cakes.
“Can we find eggs?” Marianne asked him, her face filled with the sunshine that gleamed down on everything in sight.
“Not until the whistle blows.”
“How many eggs do you think you’ll find?” Jillian asked, always ready to teach the girls about numbers.
“A kazillion,” Abby answered immediately and they all laughed.
Ever since Chase had driven Jillian home from their excursion in the carriage yesterday, she’d seemed shy with him. This decision was a no-brainer to him. However, he knew asking her to forget what her husband had done to her was a big step. He wished she’d tell him about it. He wished she’d tell him why she was afraid to trust. He knew the black and white of it, but he wanted to see for himself how deeply it had affected her.
After the girls chose the baskets they wanted from a white bunny with a purple jacket, Abby held hers up to Chase. “See? It’s pink.”
Whenever he looked down into that little face, his heart melted. He still hadn’t fully comprehended the fact that Abby was his. When he tucked her into bed at night, he knew he’d never be able to decide between Marianne and Abby. They were both unerringly lodged in his heart now.
Crouching down to Abby, he asked, “You want Mommy to help you find eggs or do you want me to help you?”
“I want you” she said and then threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.
Chase took a deep breath and blinked hard, hugging Abby back, wanting Jillian to say “yes” to his proposal more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.
Marianne was already tugging on Jillian’s sleeve and pointing to the kids who were lining up at the starting line. After she whispered something in Jillian’s ear, Jillian laughed. She called Jillian “Mommy” now and Chase couldn’t wait until Abby began calling him “Daddy.”
They lined up with the other parents and children who were four and under. Older kids would have their Easter egg hunt later in the day.
When the whistle blew, they all scrambled for eggs. There was laughter and shouting and giggles and brighteyed, eager expressions on the children’s faces. He and Abby rooted in the straw beside Jillian and Marianne, making their way as quickly as they could yet going slow enough not to miss any plastic eggs.
The smell of the hay was strong, but then suddenly Chase smelled Jillian’s perfume as they reached for the same egg.
Children and parents had crowded around them, and someone bumped Jillian. Off balance, she fell into him. He caught her and went down into the hay with her on top of him, his arms holding her tight. At first she was laughing, murmuring something about too many eggs and kids too close together. The next moment she was gazing down into his eyes, and he was looking up at her. The world and the kids and the straw and the eggs all seemed to disappear. His need for her grew so strong he knew she could feel it.
More interested in gathering eggs than what their parents were doing, Marianne and Abby had continued searching through the straw. Chase just wanted to lie there, feeling Jillian’s soft body pressing into his hard one, smelling her perfume and her shampoo, caressing her back as if this fall hadn’t been an accident.
“We don’t want to lose them in this crowd,” Jillian murmured.
“No, we don’t. And we might get trampled if we don’t move soon.” His tone was light but he was feeling anything but light.
Jillian seemed relieved, though, as she slid from him and surged to her feet. Then she was locating the girls and he was, too.
After the Easter egg hunt, they stood in line so the girls could receive their prizes. Fortunately, both girls had collected around the same number of eggs. Marianne chose a six-inch bunny while Abby decided on a plastic Big Bird. Afterward, they ate funnel cakes and sat on benches with their drinks, Jillian helping the girls break apart their treats.
Chase watched them, content, as he and Jillian talked about the weddings at the vineyard, passersby and holiday traditions they would like to incorporate into Marianne’s and Abby’s lives. He knew asking Jillian to marry him had been the right decision.
Now he wanted her answer.
On the drive back to the vineyard, they sang kids’ songs, Chase’s deep baritone and Jillian’s sweet voice melding together beautifully.
After a rousing rendition of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat,” Jillian glanced over at him. “I’m surprised you know all these.”
“Marianne plays that tape constantly. Some I remember from childhood. I’m not so ancient that I forgot.” He was twelve years older than Jillian and he wondered if that made a difference to her. She was mature beyond her twenty-seven years, and when he was around her he never felt more in his prime.
“I didn’t mean to suggest you were. Was Fran the same age as you?”
“Yes.” He really wished he knew what was running through Jillian’s head. The fact that he hadn’t let go of Fran’s memories? Would that be a determining factor? He couldn’t promise her he ever would. Fran was part of his heart, and he couldn’t just forget that.
“Does your mother know I know about your family background?”
“I told her last night.”
“Good.”
Jillian looked relieved, and he realized she didn’t like secrets any more than he did. That was a good thing. They seemed to have like values and that could make their marriage strong. Maybe he was just looking for anything he could use as a bargaining chip. Still, this wasn’t about coaxing or persuasion. Jillian had to make this decision all on her own. Once they returned to the house, he was going to take her aside and find out what she had decided. The waiting was driving him crazy.
At Willow Creek an hour later, the girls ran into the house, excited about their prizes, eager to tell Eleanor everything about what they’d seen and done.
As Jillian stepped over the threshold and he followed her, she whispered, “If they tell her about the funnel cakes, she won’t be happy we spoiled their supper.”
“Probably not,” he chuckled. “Hopefully we can delay supper.”
When they reached the kitchen, Abby and Marianne were already chattering away to Chase’s mother, but Stan was there, too, as well as Ralph. No one looked happy.
“There are shot beetles on the vines,” Ralph said quickly. He gave Stan an odd look. “I wanted to start spraying, but Stan—”
Stan avoided Chase’s gaze. “I thought we should wait until you got here.”
There was something going on here besides beetles on the vines and Chase knew, whatever it was, it would come out in time. He’d been hoping to have that talk with Jillian, but now it would have to wait.
“I’ll change and meet you at the supply shed.”
Stan started for the back door. “I’ll get everything ready.”
His mother and Jillian were occupied with the girls so he went toward the front hall and the stairs.
Ralph followed him.
“Is there something else?” Chase asked.
A battered old canvas hat in his hands, Ralph’s fingers worked around the rim as if he wasn’t sure what he was about to say. “Stan didn’t want me to tell you about the shot beetles. At a
ll. I thought you should know.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t get it, either. He knows something has to be done. It could be…” Ralph stopped.
“What is it?”
“You know how I respected your father.”
“Yes, I do. And he thought highly of you.”
“He hired me on when I couldn’t read or write and I couldn’t get a job anywhere else.”
“I know that.”
“I owed him, and if you keep me on, I owe you.”
“You’re loyal. I appreciate that.” Chase knew patience worked best with Ralph and so he waited.
“Your uncle’s not happy that you and Miss Jillian might get hitched.”
“How do you know that?”
“I overheard him talking to your mother.”
Chase had told his mother he’d asked Jillian to marry him because their decision affected her, too. However, she’d kept her thoughts about it to herself. Maybe she felt more comfortable discussing the possibility with his uncle. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll have a talk with him and maybe we’ll get this ironed out.”
“Don’t tell him I told you.”
“I wouldn’t do that. Somehow I’ll work around to the subject. You did the right thing by telling me.”
The older man nodded, then he added, “I don’t want to make trouble.”
“There won’t be trouble. I’m sure Stan had good reasons for not wanting to tell me about the beetles.”
He could see Ralph wondered what that reason was and so did he.
Predawn shadows played in Jillian’s room as she heard the doorknob on her bedroom door turn the following morning. As it creaked open, she became more awake.
“Jillian?”
It was Chase’s voice, and she relaxed. “What is it?” She automatically worried about the girls.
He came into the room then, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. “I want to show you something. Grab your robe and slippers.”
“But I—”
“Come on, or you’ll miss it. I’ll wait in the hall.”
Having no clue as to what he wanted to show her, she hurried to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, ran a comb through her hair and grabbed her robe. It was pink terry cloth, and she belted it firmly as she slid into her slippers.
Their Child? Page 33