Second Chance Mom

by EMILIE ROSE

  Rachel face filled with regret. “No. I’m sorry, but I had to write ‘unknown’ to be able to relinquish her without your permission.”

  He had a daughter.

  “I want to tell her she’s mine.”

  Rachel’s eyes widened in horror. “You can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “For exactly the same reasons you told me I shouldn’t move her to Atlanta a month ago. She’s just lost the woman she believes is her mother. Do you want to destroy those memories? To take what little she has away from her? Matt, don’t make her lose her mother a second time.”

  “She’s my daughter. I want her to know—”

  “The truth will only make her hate us all.”

  “Not all. I didn’t know.”

  “Me, then. Don’t make her hate me. She’s all I have left, Matt.” Her voice cracked.

  Compassion swelled. He tried to squash it.

  Everything she said made sense. But it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He sighed and wiped his face. Fourth quarter and he was down. Down, but not out. Not by a long shot. “I won’t tell her now.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But I will tell her, Rachel. When the time is right, I want to acknowledge her as my daughter. I want her to know she has family who loves her.”

  “I understand how you feel, but that time might never come.” The loneliness on her face tugged at something inside him.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. The day will come when I can claim my child. You’d better prepare yourself.”

  Rachel eyed the file on his desk. “I still need those copies.”

  “No.”

  “Matt, I have to return to Atlanta, or I’ll lose my job.”

  He hardened his resolve. “And if you try to take Chastity away from me again, I’ll hire an attorney and I will stop you. I’ve already lost thirteen years of her life. The very least that will happen is you’ll have to share custody. But between the hours you work and Chastity’s ties here, I could even get full custody.”

  He hardened his heart against her shattered expression and the tears in her eyes. “Matt, please.”

  “I won’t negotiate on this one, Rachel. I’ll keep your secret for now, but as soon as I figure out a game plan that won’t hurt her, I’m claiming my daughter. She has grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins here, who love her. I won’t let you deprive her of her family just because you want to run away and hide your mistake.”

  Flabbergasted, she sputtered, “My mistake?”

  “You gave away our baby. In my playbook, that’s a mistake no matter how many ways you justify your actions.”

  “Johnstonville has the memory of an elephant and a rigid moral code. Do you really want Ch—our daughter labeled a bastard? Do you want people to whisper that she’s the child of the town slut?”

  Something he hadn’t considered. “You weren’t—”

  “You and I know that, but no one else will believe it, thanks to your ex-girlfriend and the guys she convinced to swear they’d screwed me. I don’t care what they say about me, Matt. But I won’t have Chastity hurt by my past. And it’s already started. You’ve seen it.”

  Damn it. She was right. “You’re happy to go through life as her ‘aunt Rachel’?”

  “Happy? No. But for Chastity’s sake, I want the past to stay where it belongs. Think of what openly claiming Chastity would do to Hope’s reputation.”

  “Right now I don’t give a f—a rat’s ass about Hope.”

  “Hope’s reputation will reflect on Chastity. If everyone finds out she lied...”

  He let that sink in, hating that once again, she was right. “Why choose a name like Chastity? The kids tease her, you know.”

  “That was Hope’s doing. I called her Noelle. She was my Christmas gift from you.”

  That hit him hard. “Hope wanted to remind you of your mistake every single time you said our daughter’s name?”

  “Apparently.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath. Add pettiness to the list of charges. How had he let himself be blinded by Hope’s superficial goodness? She’d been the worst kind of hypocrite. Saint on the outside. Heart of a viper on the inside.

  Where did he and Rachel go from here? He’d loved her once and, until today, had believed he loved her again. But could he forgive her for this? Or trust her again? He honestly didn’t know. And even if he could, could his family accept her and the choices she’d made?

  A knock on the door startled them. Frustrated they hadn’t settled anything, he opened it. Chastity stood on the other side looking none too friendly. Seeing her hit him like a medicine ball to the chest.

  His daughter.

  “Somebody said they saw Aunt Rachel come back here with you.” Her tone spit belligerence.

  “I’m here,” Rachel said before he could confirm or deny.

  Chastity pushed her way into the room. “What are you doing with him?”

  Rachel glanced at Matt briefly, her eyes flashing caution. Then she pointed to the file on Matt’s desk. “I came to get your transcripts. After that I thought I’d join you for lunch.” At Chastity’s surprised expression she added, “You’re not too old for company, are you?”

  The aggression wavered. “I guess not. Mom never came. She was always too busy with her accounts or some church thing.”

  “Is the food still as bad as it used to be?”

  A grin split Chastity’s face. His grin, damn it. Chastity linked her arm through Rachel’s and steered her out of the office. “Don’t eat any casserole. They all taste like barf. And most of the vegetables have been cooked so long you can gum ’em. No teeth required. They should serve ’em at the senior center.”

  Rachel’s strained laughter rippled over him. She didn’t look back as Chastity led her away. Matt ached to go with them, to hang on Chastity’s every word and memorize her features and gestures. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

  He dropped into his chair and buried his head in his hands. He had a daughter, a daughter he barely knew. Rachel and Hope had robbed him of that right. He didn’t know her favorite color or food. If it hadn’t been for seeing Rachel trying to squeeze into the crowded office today, he might never have discovered the truth.

  But now that he had, what in the hell was he going to do?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  RACHEL STARTLED AT the tap on her car window. Miss Wilkins, her nosy neighbor, stood outside, her wrinkled face pruned even more with concern. Rachel pushed the button to lower the glass.

  “Are you all right, dear? You’ve been sitting out here for twenty minutes with the engine running.”

  Had she? “Yes. Thank you. I’m— I just have a lot on my mind.”

  Matt knew. And everything she feared could come true. But she would not panic.

  “Are you sure? You look a little peaked. I can fix you a snack and a glass of sweet tea. That’ll perk you right up.”

  Rachel forced a smile. “Thank you, Miss Wilkins. I appreciate your offer, but I have to handle some of Hope’s estate issues before Chastity gets home.”

  If she and Chastity couldn’t move—

  Tension spiraled through her when she considered all that could go wrong if Matt forced them to stay in Johnstonville. She had to convince him Chastity was better off away from his hometown’s vipers.

  “Well...if you change your mind, just drop in. I’m a good listener.” She stepped back, then fluttered her gnarled fingers and returned to her house, looking over her shoulder several times as if she hoped Rachel would join her.

  Rachel felt as if she’d kicked a puppy. The woman wasn’t nosy. She was lonely. And kind. But at the moment, Rachel had nothing left to give. She was emotionally bankrupt. Maybe later she could visit. Or invite her neighbor to dinner.

&
nbsp; Focus on what you can control and the rest will fall into place. The mantra she’d learned from her first trauma boss had carried her through many a crisis.

  She emptied her lungs in a long, slow effort to relax, then exited the car. As much as she dreaded it, she had to go through Hope’s purse and wallet to see if she’d missed anything. She retrieved the box of Hope’s belongings and set it on the kitchen table. Her cell phone rang, granting her a brief reprieve. Then she checked caller ID. Matt. She didn’t want to answer it. But what if Chastity was in trouble again?

  “Yes?”

  “Invite me to dinner,” he demanded without preamble. Her abdominal muscles knotted as tightly as those in the back of her neck. After their confrontation earlier today, she wasn’t ready to face him again.

  “Matt, that’s not a good idea. Chastity’s already not thrilled about me meeting with you at school today.”

  “Tough. I want to get to know my daughter. Hope and I had dinner together a couple times a month. It won’t seem strange to Chastity if you and I do the same—only more often. And this time Chastity will be there instead of being sent to Pam’s.”

  Bitterness soured Rachel’s stomach. Not only had Hope hidden Matt’s letters, she’d been laying a trap to catch him for herself. “What makes you think I can cook?”

  “If you can’t, then I will.”

  “You’d cook for me? For us?”

  “I have to cook for one. Why not make it three? Want me to bring the ingredients?”

  “No, I...” Don’t want you here. Don’t trust myself around you. “I have it covered. We eat at six.”

  Then she hung up and buried her face in her hands. She’d never been good at playing games. Matt, on the other hand, as a player and now a coach, was an expert at gamesmanship. The trophies she’d seen today testified to that. And now the ball was in his hands. She hoped he didn’t run them straight into disaster.

  “Focus on what you can control,” she repeated and reached for Hope’s briefcase. The wallet would be last. Work seemed less personal, easier to manage. But she had to get through this before Chastity came home.

  A little while later, she was staring at the snapshot of Hope holding newborn Chastity when the front door blasted open and Chastity charged in. Shocked, Rachel glanced at the clock. Where had the hours gone?

  The teen stopped when she saw the mess scattered over the kitchen table. “What are you doing?”

  “I didn’t hear you drive up.”

  “Mrs. Weaver let me off at the end of the driveway so I could check the mail. What are you doing with Mom’s stuff?” Chastity repeated, slapping the mail on to the counter.

  “I’m looking for the credit card I missed. I have to cancel it.”

  “It’s hidden in her recipe box. For emergencies.” Chastity crossed the kitchen. She retrieved the card and handed it to Rachel, then glanced at the box on the table. The bracelet! Rachel fought the urge to dive for it.

  “Are there any other cards I should know about?” she blurted in an attempted diversion, but Chastity only shook her head as she reached inside the box and stirred the loose items on the bottom.

  Desperate, Rachel extended the photograph. “Look what I found. It’s you and your mom the day she brought you home from the hospital. I’ve never seen her as happy as she was that day.” The happiest day of Hope’s life had been the absolute worst day of Rachel’s. “It was in her wallet. She always kept you close. You can see how much she loved you. It’s written all over her face.”

  Chastity glanced at the photo. Her gaze lingered only a moment, then she muttered, “Yeah,” ducked her head and dug.

  Horrified, Rachel watched her lift the broken strand and study the cut cord.

  “It was supposed to be unbreakable,” Chastity said flatly.

  Rachel didn’t want to lie. But she wouldn’t tell the whole truth, either. “I guess it got broken when the paramedics moved your mom from the car to the ambulance. I thought you might want to keep it...to remember her by.”

  Chastity’s hand fisted around the beads, and her face bunched up. Rachel didn’t know if she was going to hurl the strand or cry over it. Chastity pressed her fist to her chest. “I will.”

  Dry-eyed, she picked up the picture, turned and went to her bedroom. Rachel followed. “Are you okay?” she asked gently.

  “I guess. It just hurts, you know?” Chastity’s voice was raw and her eyes red.

  Rachel draped an arm around her shoulders. “Yeah. I do. Losing someone you love hurts. My parents died right before you were born. I’m very sorry they never got to know you.”

  “I’ve seen their pictures. They were a lot like Mom, weren’t they? Always doing churchy stuff.”

  Rachel’s lips twitched at the description. “Their favorite motto was, ‘Love others before yourself.’”

  “Mom said that a lot, too. But it’s hard to do sometimes.”

  The teen had no idea. “Yes. It is. But no one expects you to be good at it at your age.”

  “Were you?”

  Rachel laughed but without mirth. “No. I was a brat. There were times I thought my parents loved the strangers they missioned to more than me. And I resented it. I did stupid stuff to get their attention.”

  “But in your job...you risk your life to take care of others all the time.”

  “It took me a while to realize that giving is its own reward.”

  Chastity rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Mom said that a lot, too. What’s for dinner?”

  The bonding moment vanished. “Homemade pizza. Matt’s coming for dinner, too.”

  “Why can’t he leave you alone?”

  Rachel scrambled for an answer. “I need to repay him for mowing the grass.” True. Just not the reason behind dinner.

  “He was Mom’s boyfriend, and now he watches you all the time. It’s disgusting.” She punctuated the word with a gag-me finger pointing into her mouth. Drama.

  Aiding in the development of the father/daughter bond might not be easy, but it was the right thing to do. As Chastity had pointed out, Rachel’s job was risky. If anything ever happened to her, she knew no one would care for their daughter as well as Matt and his family. That meant telling the truth—part of it—even if it cast Hope in a less than wonderful light.

  “Matt is a friend. He and I dated when I lived here.”

  “And then he asked Mom out? Eew.”

  “I think your mother asked him.”

  “Did he tell you that?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I do. Matt has always been honest.”

  “Well, he should have said no.”

  “Your mom wasn’t an easy person to say ‘no’ to. And Matt’s a decent guy if you give him a chance. Let’s go fix dinner.”

  “Do we have any arsenic?”

  Rachel shot her a warning look. “Be nice.”

  The night wasn’t going to be easy on many levels, and it was ironic that she, the one who used to incite chaos for kicks, was now being forced into the role of peacemaker.

  * * *

  MATT WAS MORE nervous than he’d ever been before any championship game when he rang Rachel’s doorbell. Dinner with Rachel and his daughter—his daughter!—was like a double first date. He had to impress two females at once. In totally different ways.

  Rachel opened the door. She had white smears on her cheek and left breast. He wanted to brush off both—the first with his lips, the second with his hand. He pointed instead. “You have smudges there and there.”

  She smiled—clearly forced—opened the door and dusted off the flour. “Come in. We’re almost done.”

  “Everything okay?”

  The worry in her eyes didn’t bode well. “Other than her request for arsenic? Sure.”


  Not good. He lifted the cake carrier. “I brought dessert.”

  “Nice. Come in. We’re eating in the kitchen. Dinner should be ready shortly.”

  He followed her. Chastity stood by the counter preparing a salad. She shot him a dark look. Rachel subtly nudged her with an elbow. “Hello, Mr. Johnston.”

  So formal. He missed her usual, “Hey, Coach.” He’d have to be as dumb as a goalpost not to realize Chastity didn’t want him here. Rachel had warned him. He watched her with a new curiosity as he set the cake on the counter. She was his. His.

  “Hi, Chastity. I brought my mom’s fudge cake. I heard it’s your favorite.”

  Chastity shrugged. “I can’t eat that with cheerleading camp coming up. The guys have to pick me up for the lifts. I can’t weigh a ton.”

  Rachel shot her what looked to be a warning, and the teen said, “I’ll be sure to thank Mrs. Johnston next time I see her.”

  Rachel squeezed her shoulder. “You’re the right weight for your height and age, but if you’re concerned about balancing your caloric intake, I’ll wait until you get home from school to take my runs. You can go with me.” The offer earned her a grimace.

  “Ugh. Pass.”

  The timer beeped. “Pizza’s ready.” Rachel retrieved it from the oven and set it in the center of the table. A mouthwatering aroma filled the air. “Have a seat.”

  The kitchen table was set for three. Chastity quickly deposited the salad bowls and scooted into the middle chair. Her usual seat? Or did she not want him sitting beside her aunt?

  “Thanks for cooking. It looks good.”

  Rachel cut the pie. “Pizza is one of the things Chastity and I used to make together when she and her mom came to visit.”

  “Forever ago,” the teen groused.

  Rachel extended her arms, palms up. “Your turn to say grace, Chastity.”

  Chastity took Rachel’s hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, his. He wanted to savor the fact that he was holding his daughter’s hand, but instead, he reached across the table to take Rachel’s. The connection was instant and electric. Her cheeks flushed, telling him she felt it, too.