by Linda Warren
Rob had taken his place as head of the Cober-Townsend family with pride and determination. His first step had been to put his family back together, and that family now included C.J. These days C.J. was proud to call him her brother.
Two weeks before the election Rob had called a national press conference and told the world about his half sister and the circumstances of her birth. He welcomed her into the family and apologized for all the pain she’d suffered. The story touched the hearts of everyone, and he’d won the election in a landslide victory.
C.J. moved away from the crowd and noticed Pete and Harry talking to Miss Emma and Mrs. Sloan. She smiled, hardly recognizing the two men she loved so dearly.
They both wore new suits. Harry had cut his hair and beard into a short neat style. He reminded her of a college professor. The new look wasn’t only for her sake, though. Miss Emma had a lot to do with it. When she’d come to visit C.J. in the hospital, Harry had been there. The moment had been tense, but eventually they’d started talking, and now it was as if the many years of estrangement had never been. Harry sometimes spent two or three nights in town. True love was amazing, C.J. thought.
True love. Everlasting love. She clenched her hands into fists and closed her eyes for a second. She wouldn’t think of him. But his face swam before her, and she hated herself for that weakness.
Opening her eyes, she forced her thoughts in another direction. Pete. He was also sporting a new haircut, looking tall and dapper. C.J. could see what had attracted Victoria to her handsome father.
Father. At first the kinship name had rolled around in her head like a foreign word. She couldn’t understand why, because Pete had always been her father. He’d raised her, taught her everything she knew and made her the strong independent woman she was today. For years she’d been searching for something she already had—a loving father. Her obsession with finding her parents had blinded her to the treasures in her life. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Rob put an arm around her shoulder, bringing her attention back to the party. “Thanks for letting us have this event here,” he said with a bright smile.
She frowned. “This house is much more yours than mine, and you can have a party here any time you want.”
“That’s not true, C.J.,” he denied, “and you might as well get used to it. Mom left you the ranch.”
He was right. Victoria had been exceptionally generous in her second will. C.J. had been left Seven Trees, the land surrounding it and controlling interest in the Cober bank. Rob, Joyce and Clare already had land and homes in their own names. All the other land, banks and newspapers she shared with the rest of the family. She’d expected that the Townsends would try to have the will broken, but they hadn’t. This time they’d respected their mother’s last wishes.
It hadn’t been easy for anyone, but they were all adjusting. She and John Townsend would never be the best of friends, but at least he now treated her with courtesy. These days he was more interested in his twenty-five-year-old nurse than in causing problems.
C.J. worried about Clare, though. She was having a hard time accepting Martha Cober as her real mother, because of the evil Martha had wreaked on the family.
Some distance away C.J. saw Clare in the crowd, looking pensive but lovely in new clothes and hairdo. Joyce and Francine had taken Clare and C.J. in hand, spending a day in Austin and having them done over from head to toe. Clare looked enchanting, and the blue suit brought out the dazzling blue of her eyes.
C.J. crossed to her. “You’d better smile, or Joyce and Francine will be enrolling us in a self-esteem class,” she teased.
“I’m so tired of smiling,” Clare groaned, then glanced around to make sure Joyce and Francine weren’t watching.
“Do you think anyone would notice if I slipped away?”
“Yes, I’d notice,” C.J. said, feeling closer to Clare than anyone else in the family. “And if I have to endure this, so do you.”
“But you’re so much better at it. You’re so beautiful. Why Joyce and Francine thought you needed a makeover is beyond me.”
“They wanted to take some of the rough edges off, I suppose,” C.J. answered, and squinted down at herself. The slim emerald-green dress with matching jacket was an original, and every time she thought about the cost, she felt guilty and a little stupid, but it fit like a dream. Her long hair had been trimmed and now hung in a disarrayed style to the middle of her back. She wore a little makeup. That was as far as she’d go.
“I wish I had your rough edges.” Clare laughed lightly, then her face became serious. “C.J., I—”
“If you apologize for Martha one more time, I’m going to get angry.” C.J. knew exactly where Clare was headed. She carried the sins of her mother like a weight, a very heavy weight.
“I just feel—”
“Well, don’t,” C.J. said. “You are nothing like her. So stop blaming yourself and get on with your life.” A band had begun to play in the background. “Go and kick up your heels. It’s time to forget all the pain.” And then, as if summoned, a man came up and asked Clare to dance. C.J. smiled at her as she moved away.
Then C.J. froze. She saw a tall man standing on the patio, looking out over the crowd. Matthew. What was he doing here? God, he looked handsome in his dark suit and white shirt! The city man was back. Her heart started to pound against her ribs, and she felt an excitement she hadn’t felt in months.
Her first reaction was to run into his arms, but her courage wasn’t that great.
She couldn’t face him in front of all these people, she decided, and slipped quietly into the house. Luckily everyone was gathering on the patio for the dancing, and the living room was empty.
PETE NOTICED MATTHEW. He glanced suspiciously at Belle. “You called him, didn’t you?”
Belle smiled at her son and waved. “Yes,” she replied. “We talked about it, remember? We agreed they were both miserable, so I invited him to the party. I also mentioned a few things about C.J.”
“You know I don’t like interfering.”
“It’s not interfering,” she told him. “It’s a parent’s right. You have to learn these things.”
“I don’t know, Belle. C.J. didn’t look too happy when she went into the house. She’s had enough pain. I want her to be happy.”
“Trust me. Matthew will follow her in a few minutes.” The words had barely left her mouth before Matthew walked into the house.
Belle winked at Pete.
He smiled. “Come on, Belle Sloan, let’s dance. I can’t let my brother have more fun than me.” Harry and Emma sailed by them in a waltz. “Besides, our kids can sort out their own lives.”
C.J. STARED UP at the painting of Victoria Cober Townsend above the fireplace. In her early twenties, she was beautiful with her long blond hair and blue eyes. It was hard to believe this woman was her mother.
Matthew stood in the doorway. Just the sight of her sent a warm glow through his body. She looked different—sophisticated and elegant—and he wondered if the things his mother had said were true. Was she unhappy? She didn’t look it. She was radiant and she had a right to be.
She finally knew who she was, and the whole town had embraced her. A regular Cinderella story, from rags to riches, and everyone wanted to talk to her, shake her hand, wish her well. She was no longer the town outcast. She was now the queen of Coberville.
“She’s very beautiful.”
C.J. didn’t turn around or she would have seen that Matthew wasn’t looking at the painting, but at her.
“Yes, I can hardly believe she’s my mother. I don’t resemble her at all.”
“You’re thinking about her coloring,” he said. “Look at the cheekbones, the shape of her eyes and face. They’re the same, plus you have her gracefulness.”
C.J. took a deep breath and turned around, unprepared for the impact of seeing him face-to-face after so many months. Her pulse leaped, and her knees felt weak.
When she didn’t say anythin
g, he asked, “How are you?”
“Fine.”
“You look wonderful.”
“Thank you.” She hated that they were talking like polite strangers and not two people who had once shared something special.
“Is it everything you thought it would be?”
“What?” She frowned.
“Knowing who you are.”
No, she wanted to say. Without you it means nothing. Instead, she said quietly, “Sometimes it’s overwhelming.”
“I can imagine,” he said, studying the lovely lines of her face. “I have something for you,” he added abruptly.
Until he gave it to her, she hadn’t noticed the big manila envelope in his hand. All she could see was his face, his eyes…
Taking the envelope, she asked, “What is it?”
“Open it and find out.”
She undid the clip and pulled out a document. A corrected birth certificate. Christina Jane Cober Watson, the name read. A lump formed in her throat and for a moment she couldn’t speak. Looking at her name on a birth certificate suddenly made it all real. Up until that moment she’d felt as if she was living in a dream. but now she knew she wasn’t. She was Christina Jane Cober Watson.
“Christina was the name Victoria wanted you to have. It was in her will,” he told her.
“I know,” she said, fighting back tears. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She turned to put the document in a desk drawer, knowing she had to get away from him or she was going to make a fool of herself.
“I’d better get back to the party,” she said, walking past him.
“C.J.?”
“Yes?” She stopped, but didn’t face him.
“Do you ever think about us? That night in Austin?”
She clasped her hands together. “No,” she lied.
“I think about it all the time. It keeps me awake at night, and when I do sleep, I dream of you and me together, with nothing but your hair around us. But when I awake, you’re not there.”
She couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t keep pretending, lying. Whirling around, green eyes blazing, she said, “No, I’m here in Coberville, where you left me without a word for months.”
“I had to go, C.J. I thought you understood that. We both needed time, but I told myself if you needed me, you’d call and ask me to come home. If you had, I would’ve been here in a heartbeat.”
She fought her pride and admitted, “I wanted to, so many times.”
A long silence. Then Matthew said, “There’s a reason I came back.”
Her eyes flew to his. “What?”
“You still haven’t paid me for all the work I did in finding your parents.”
For a moment she was completely disconcerted. He wanted money. “How much do I owe you?” she asked shortly.
“A lifetime of sweet passionate kisses,” was the answer.
How could she have forgotten? The kisses. Suddenly all the doubts and fears disappeared. She smiled and walked closer to him, so close she could feel the heat from his body. “Never let it be said that I don’t pay my debts.” She stood on tiptoe and gently kissed his lips.
“That’s only a start,” he whispered, his dark eyes meeting hers. “Try again.”
A wicked smile curved her lips, and she pressed her body against his, savoring the tensing of his muscles and the rapid beat of his heart. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her lips teased, tasted, caressed until his control broke.
He groaned deep in his throat, and his arms tightened around her, his lips capturing hers in a heated kiss.
Love, too long denied, blazed through their veins, welding their hearts and bodies in sweet harmony. Matthew’s mouth opened hungrily over hers, and she met it with a hunger of her own. The kiss went on and on, both needing, both giving, never wanting it to end.
Eventually Matthew rested his forehead against hers.
“Paid in full?” she asked, a humorous glimmer in her eyes.
“Never. I’m just catching my breath,” he replied mischievously, then asked, “why did you cut your hair?”
“You said I looked wonderful,” she reminded him.
“You do,” he said, kissing her nose, her cheeks. “But I want my C.J. the way she was.”
“She’s still here.”
“I know.” His lips found hers again. “I want you so badly I can’t stand it,” he whispered against her mouth.
“It’s been too long.”
She wanted him, too. That was the problem. Could she be an occasional lover?
C.J. pushed out of his arms. “I can’t do this.”
If she’d hit him, he wouldn’t have looked more shocked, and she hastened to explain. “I don’t want to be like my mother. Loving a man I can never have. I just can’t make love with you and watch you go back to New York.”
He breathed a deep sigh of relief. “You don’t have to.”
She frowned, not understanding.
“I’ve talked with my partners, and I’m going to cut back on my caseload, way back, until we can work things out. The rest of the time I’ll be here in Coberville opening my dad’s old office. Even a chicken thief needs a lawyer.”
The blood started to pump through her veins with amazing speed, but she had to ask, “Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s simple. In searching for your identity, I realized I’d been running from mine. Living in Matt Sloan’s shadow wasn’t easy. I felt I had to leave Coberville to make my own way in life. I did, but that man in New York wasn’t the real me, and I’ve been denying that for a long time.”
C.J. listened with her heart full. She realized, for perhaps the first time, that having loving parents didn’t guarantee a happy life. Matthew had been struggling with his own demons.
“My father knew what was important—home, family and love. The truth is, I want those things, too. It’s taken me a long time to realize that. I’ve had my fifteen minutes of fame, and now I’m ready for a lifetime of happiness. That is—” he stopped, and looked deeply into her eyes “—if a certain black-haired green-eyed beauty will agree to add Sloan to that long list of names she’s just acquired.”
C.J. drew back, her eyes clouded with things Matthew didn’t understand.
“Are you asking me to marry you?” Her voice was faint and puzzled.
“Yes,” he answered slowly, wondering why they weren’t halfway to heaven by now.
Her eyes narrowed. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”
Matthew searched his brain, and for the life of him he couldn’t find a thing he’d missed, but he was willing to go over the details. “I’ve told you how much I love—”
“No, you haven’t.”
He blinked in confusion, then it hit him. “C.J., surely you don’t doubt that I love you!”
“I need to hear you say it,” she replied, her voice full of yearning. “I’ve never heard the words before, and it’s very important to me.”
Hearing the ache in her voice, it finally dawned on him that she’d never heard or spoken those three little words in her whole life. The thought tore at his heart. How could he be so stupid?
He cupped her face in his hands, staring into her beautiful eyes. “C.J., I love you. I love you more than life itself. You’re the first thing I think of in the morning, the last thing I think of at night, and all the hours in between are filled with thoughts of you. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and if you don’t kiss me soon, I’m going to explode.”
She turned her face and kissed the palm of his hand. His hand closed into a fist, as if he needed to save that kiss for the rest of his life.
Her eyes melted into his. “I love you, too, Matthew Sloan, Jr.,” she whispered, and began kissing his cheeks, his chin, the hollow of his neck.
Her gentle touch sent the blood rushing through his veins. “We’re going to say those words every day for the rest of our lives,” he told her. “That is, if you ever get around to saying yes to my proposal.�
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“Oh, Matthew, yes, yes!” she cried a moment before his lips took hers.
With each aching breath, each pleasurable moan, a tidal wave of passion and love flowed between them. Matthew’s hands slid down her back to her bottom, pressing her hard against his hips. “Can you feel how much I want you?” he asked with a ragged sigh.
“I’d have to be numb not to.” She laughed, then gasped.
“What are you going to do about it?”
C.J. took his hand and led him toward the stairs.
In the background the citizens of Coberville laughed, talked and danced. For the first time C.J. felt like one of them. Whole and complete. And loved. Very loved.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8187-9
THE TRUTH ABOUT JANE DOE
Copyright © 2000 by Linda Warren.
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