by Helen Lacey
“You know me,” he said, and then hesitated for a moment. “And I suspect neither of us have changed all that much over the years.”
His got out without another word and came around to the passenger side, holding the door wider as she got out. She grabbed her bag once her feet were on the ground and looked around.
“Wow,” she said and gave a soft whistle. “This is amazing.”
The house was big and designed to have a fabulous view of the river and the mountains beyond. In three levels, it was constructed from split timber, and had long glass windows opening onto a huge veranda.
Another car came barreling down the driveway and Abby recognized the local Realtor’s logo on the side of the vehicle. A woman got out and after a brief introduction, the house was unlocked and they were shown inside.
Abby didn’t stop oohing for the next ten minutes. The house was incredible, designed to have optimal views. The master suite was on the highest level, while the remaining bedrooms and kitchen and living area were in the middle, and the huge gaming room and office were on the ground floor. The kitchen was a chef’s dream. Solid marble countertops, Shaker-style cabinets, top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances—Abby felt like she was in her dream home.
“What do you think?” he asked as they headed up the stairway for the top floor, while the Realtor walked back outside—obviously giving them privacy, and probably misinterpreting their relationhip.
“It’s incredible,” she replied as they entered the master suite, and then she stopped in her tracks. Built into the wall and sporting a magnificent view was a huge bed, perhaps the biggest she’d ever seen.
“The bed comes with the house,” he explained, clearly interpreting her surprise. “It’s attached to the wall.”
“So I see,” she said and averted her gaze, refusing to think about Jake being sprawled out on the bed. She moved around the room and checked out the bathroom, which was spectacular, and then stood by the doors that led to the veranda and looked out over the river. “It’s a lovely house.”
“Do you think T.J. will be happy here?”
She turned, noticing he was barely a few feet behind her. “I’m sure he’ll be happy wherever you are.”
“I’m really proud to be his dad, you know.”
She didn’t dare look at him, because emotion was clogging her throat. Jake could give their son everything he wanted, including the fatherly love and affection T.J. had craved for so long. It filled her with such conflict, and that transcended into guilt of the worse kind—because the guilt tasted an awful lot like jealousy. And since she’d never been the jealous type, it created more conflict within her. Everything about her relationship with Jake confused and tormented her. She knew she had to get over it. She just didn’t know how.
“He loves you, Jake,” she said softly. “The truth is, I’ve never seen him so happy. And that makes me happy.”
“Does it?” he queried. “Even though you have to share him now?”
Abby met his intuitive gaze. “Even then. I know things are changing, and yes, I’m probably not so great at handling change, but I’m learning. I’m determined to make this coparenting thing work.”
“It’s nothing like I imagined.”
“What is?” she asked.
“Loving a child.”
The raw honestly is his voice cut her through to the quick. “I know.”
“Every time he calls me Daddy, I just have this overwhelming sensation that I can’t even put into words.”
Abby’s eyes burned and she blinked hard, feeling emotion sweep though her body. And then the tears came, filling her eyes and then spilling down her cheeks. She walked closer toward the window, noticing snow on the mountains and the ripples from a lone boat out on the river. It was an incredibly peaceful spot, and she knew her son would be happy spending time by the boathouse with his father. If she looked closely enough, she could almost see them together, laughing and talking, being the tight unit she suspected would grow deeper over time. T.J. would learn so much from his father—like how to be a strong and ethical person, how to care for the people he loved, how to show courage and fortitude, how to be a good friend and, more importantly, a good man.
Once Jake moved into the house, T.J. would visit regularly, perhaps preferring the home to the one he shared with her. And Abby would have to let him go. She would have to learn selflessness. To be the mother she should have been the moment she’d discovered she was pregnant—and the woman who should have told Jake the truth from the beginning.
“I wish I could have a do-over,” she said quietly, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I’d make so many different choices.”
“Like what?” he asked.
“You know what,” she replied and shuddered.
Jake was in front of her in two strides. He grabbed her hands, holding them tightly in his own. “I would have been there, Abby,” he said quietly, his voice so raw she felt fresh tears fill her eyes. “I would have been beside you when he was born. I would have held your hand every minute he was in the hospital.”
“I know. I wanted you there,” she admitted and couldn’t help the sob that racked through her body. “I wanted you there so much.”
He quickly gathered her close, running his strong hands down her back and holding her against him. Abby stiffened for a moment but then relaxed. There was something cathartic about his touch, about the gentleness of his embrace, about the soothing sound of his voice. The scent of him was achingly familiar, and his strong arms were like a cloak, holding her safely, keeping her pain and heartache at bay.
One hand rested against her nape, and he spoke softly. “You’re okay.”
Abby wept louder, part of her not even sure why she was in such a state. Guilt, she figured. And shame. And the knowledge that she loved a man who would never love her again. Because once, she’d had his heart, but her pride and stubbornness had made her toss it away. She’d broken them. She’d devalued everything they had once been to one another because she didn’t get her own way. Then she married Tom—as a way to punish Jake for daring to live his own life.
So arrogantly...
So hurtfully...
In the end, the person who’d hurt most was herself.
And the child she loved more than life itself but whom she’d also punished because she was too selfish to admit what she had become—a self-pitying fool. And a self-important one. A woman who believed her thoughts and feelings were all that mattered. She’d made the decision for them both. For them all. Out of spite. Out of revenge. Out of her insatiable need to prove to herself that she was right—that Jake had chosen the military over her and them. That he would never come back. That she would end up just like her mother—heartbroken and grieving lost love. And that she was justified. She was right in her beliefs.
The realization and acknowledgment made her feel as small as she could possibly feel.
“I’m sorry, Jake. For everything.”
“I know,” he said quietly. If he’d kissed her, if he’d touched her, she would have gone with him willingly into a place where only the two of them existed.
But he didn’t. Because her apology would never be enough. Abby felt it as surely as she breathed.
He still held her for a few moments, smoothing back her hair, saying very little but giving her the comfort she suddenly and desperately craved. The kind of comfort she’d only ever found in Jake’s arms. That’s why they’d made love after Tom’s funeral. Because they’d needed one another. She’d needed Jake like she needed air in her lungs. Nothing and no one had ever come close to the feelings he evoked. He was the father of her child. And the love of her life.
She wondered if he’d somehow sensed her feelings, because he released her abruptly. Because, of course, he wouldn’t want them. He didn’t think of her that way. Perhaps if she’d shown enough gumption to tell him abo
ut T.J. instead of him finding out as he had, by accident, in front of his brother. Perhaps then things might have turned out differently. They might have dated—they might have done so many things.
“We should go,” he said and stepped back. “I’ll drive you back to the hotel. It’s nearly time to pick up T.J. from school.”
Abby wiped her eyes and quickly pulled herself together. “Of course. And Jake, the house is lovely. I’m sure you’ll make this a happy home for T.J.”
And for the next woman you love.
The very notion hurt her so profoundly she winced. Imagining Jake in love, thinking about him setting up house and making a family with someone, actually made her physically ache. But she knew it was in the future. Jake would get married one day. He’d find someone he trusted, someone who wouldn’t marry his best friend, someone who wouldn’t lie to him and steal six years of his child’s life. He would probably have more children, and he’d be exactly what she’d always wanted—the kind of husband who was strong and dependable and loyal. Except he would be someone else’s husband. The father of someone’s else’s children. And someone else’s lover.
The trip back to the hotel was mainly silent. Abby was as wound up as a spring, and she sensed that Jake was no better. Abby grabbed her tote and the door handle simultaneously.
“I’ll see you later,” she said.
Jake gently grasped her arm. “Abby...wait...”
“What?”
“I never...” He paused, expelling a heavy breath. “I feel as though we never finish any conversation we start.”
She didn’t respond immediately. Didn’t move. But she felt his hand against her skin like a branding iron and instinctively covered his hand with her own. “Habit. History. Take your pick.”
He sighed. “We have to find a way to make this work.”
“I thought we already had,” she replied. “You can see T.J. as often as you want to. I’m not going to make things difficult. I know what I’ve done in the past was unfair to you both, and I’ve accepted that my son needs and wants his father. We both know that he has to come first. As for me?” She shrugged listlessly. “I’ll learn to live with my mistakes. From breaking up with you in high school because you had the audacity to live your own life,” she admitted and laughed brittlely. “To marrying a man who deserved way more than my misguided attempt to punish you for leaving. And mostly—” she wiped away a silent tear “—for denying you the right to be a father. I have a lot to make up for and a lot to be ashamed of.”
He didn’t disagree. Didn’t say anything. And Abby knew she had truly lost him.
She’d lost him to betrayal. To selfishness. To arrogance.
And in a way, she’d lost T.J., too. Because her son would never be only hers again. He would have divided loyalties. She knew he would always love her, but his hero worship for Jake was only going to get stronger over the years, and he would stop needing her as much, stop relying on her. He’d already begun making choices—like Christmas. He wanted to be at the ranch. He wanted to be with his cousins and wake up Christmas morning with his kin.
And she would be alone.
Chapter Twelve
Jake looked at the gift on the table, considered unwrapping it for the millionth time and then pushed it aside. Maybe the smart thing would be to take it back to the store. He wasn’t even sure why he’d bought the damn thing. It was for Abby. It was jewelry. Not a ring, even though the thought had stupidly crossed his mind when he was in the store. It was a gold chain and diamond pendant. It was overpriced, but he hadn’t quibbled with the clerk. The truth was, he couldn’t get out of the store fast enough, thinking that someone might see him and ask him what he was thinking.
Which was...
I don’t have a freaking clue.
Sure, he’d purchased something for T.J. to give his mom, but he hadn’t imagined he’d be foolish enough to buy a gift from himself. And it wasn’t as though his son had encouraged him too much. It was all his own doing.
“What’s that?”
Jake looked up. Mitch was standing in the doorway, still using crutches but looking a hell of a lot better than he had six weeks earlier. Jake grabbed the small parcel and put it in his jacket pocket. “Nothing.”
Mitch laughed. “Secret, huh?”
“None of your business,” he replied.
“What time is T.J. getting here?” Mitch asked, ignoring his scowl.
Jake glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was nearly eleven. “Soon. His mother is dropping him off.”
Mitch’s brows both came up. “Things so bad you can’t even say her name now?”
“What?”
“Exactly,” his brother said. “You’ve been referring to her as T.J.’s mom all week.”
“Easier,” he quipped. “And I don’t want to—”
“I know what you don’t want,” Mitch said pointedly as he sat down and stretched out his cast. “The question is, what is it that you do want?”
“Honestly,” he replied. “I have no idea.”
“Do you remember when you first got back to town,” Mitch commented and tapped his fingers on the table. “You asked me what I was afraid of...why I was so determined to keep Tess at arm’s length even though she’s having my baby and I was still crazy in love with her. Pride...remember? So, now I’m asking you the same thing. Is your pride more important than how you feel about her?”
“It’s not about pride,” he replied. “It’s about trust.”
“You sure?”
Jake ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure about anything. How I feel...how Abby feels,” he said, saying her name deliberately. “Truthfully, I’ve never been more conflicted in my life. I want to be a good dad. I want to make a difference in my son’s life. And Abby...” He paused, trying to make sense of his brother’s words, his own words, anything that Abby had said to him over the past few weeks, and as always, came up with more questions than answers, more confusion than clarity. And an ache the size of Mount Rushmore in the middle of his chest.
“She made a mistake,” Mitch said quietly. “Who hasn’t? Not me...and I’m betting not you, either.”
“I can’t...”
“Or won’t,” Mitch insisted. “Like I said, pride. She busted your pride, she chose another man, she had your son and didn’t tell you. She did a lot of things, Jake...but so did you. You left town, you left us all...and then you came back when your best friend died and got his widow pregnant. So maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to pass out judgment.”
Jake stared at Mitch and registered the reproach in his voice. It was first real criticism he’d ever heard from his brother. “You think I should forgive her?”
“I think love and forgiveness go hand in hand,” Mitch replied. “I think we’ve all gone through crap and have had to get past it. Things like everything we went through with Mom dying and Billie-Jack being a drunken bastard. Like how Tess miscarried four times and how it nearly ended us, but we still managed to find our way back together. Like how Hank almost died in the accident Billie-Jack caused, and yet he survived the accident and all those operations afterwards. Or how about how Joss picked up the pieces of his life after Lara died because he had two kids to raise. Or how Grant and Ellie had to grow up without parents—what I’m trying to say is that life’s too short to waste on regret or grief or blame.”
“He’s right.”
It was Joss’s voice he heard from the doorway, and his younger brother was nodding. “I could have checked out when Lara died...you know how her folks wanted custody of the girls. I was twenty-four and didn’t know what I was doing. But I had to man up and be responsible, and that included admitting I had to get on with my life.”
“Is that why you’ve nailed everything in a skirt in this town and the next,” Jake shot back and then quickly got to his feet. “Sorry, I didn’t mean th
at. Ignore me, I’m going through some weird phase.”
“We know,” Joss said and smirked.
“Hey, Jake,” Tess said and peered around the doorway. “Abby’s here.”
He straightened his back, looked at both his brothers and nodded. “Thanks for the talk.”
Jake walked past Tess and headed down the hallway. He opened the front door and spotted Abby’s Honda in the driveway. She was by the trunk, with T.J. at her side, removing a bag from the car. She looked so beautiful in a long denim skirt, bright blue sweater, black coat and scarf. Her hair was loose and flowed around her shoulders, but he could see the tension in her back. She was unhappy. Well, she wasn’t the only one.
“Daddy!” T.J.’s excited voice rang out, and within seconds his son was racing toward him.
Jake met him at the bottom of the stairs and hauled him into his arms, swinging him around once before settling him back onto his feet. “Hey, buddy.”
“It’s almost Christmas,” his son announced. “And I’ve been good, I promise.”
Jake had given T.J. a serious talk about being good after his tantrum over bedtime, and since then his son had been mostly well behaved and respectful toward his mother. “Happy to hear it,” he said and ruffled T.J.’s hair.
“Are my cousins here yet?” he asked hopefully.
Jake nodded. “They’re inside. But I think Sissy wants to ride her new pony later today, so how about we all go down to the corral together and you can have a pony ride?”
“Yay!” he said and then turned as Abby walked toward them. “Did you hear that, Mommy? I’m gonna ride a pony!”
“That sounds wonderful,” she said as she reached the bottom step.
“Can I go inside now?” he asked. “I wanna see everybody.”
“Okay,” Abby said and smiled. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Sure, Mommy,” he replied and began to walk up the stairs.
Jake saw the pained expression on Abby’s face and spoke quickly. “T.J., how about you give Mommy a kiss goodbye?”