Amanda couldn’t take her eyes off Jake. Silver Cliff’s bad boy had changed. His once-wiry build had transformed into solid muscle and broad shoulders. The goatee was new. The short black beard lent him an air of danger. Not that he needed an air to make him stand out in a crowd. Her gaze zeroed in on his mouth, and his lips spread into a smile. The past tumbled forward as she recalled their high-school graduation ceremony. After he’d received his diploma and walked off the auditorium stage, he’d planted an open-mouth-lots-of-tongue kiss on her in front of God and everyone. Then, like a Hollywood movie, he’d hopped on his motorcycle and sped out of town, leaving Amanda with a broken heart.
Lips tingling anew from the memory, she forced her attention from his face to his coal-black hair. He wore his hair a tad shorter than in high school, the shaggy style barely brushing the tops of his shoulders. She recalled the time Principal Mahoney had threatened to chop Jake’s hair off if he didn’t cut it. The next day Jake had returned to school with a quarter inch of cut hair in a sandwich bag and tossed it on Mahoney’s desk. Poor Jake. The principal had had it out for him all four years of high school.
Jake’s shaggy mop added to his sex appeal, but his dark brown eyes were what intrigued Amanda most. Years ago, she swore she’d caught a glimpse of his tortured soul. Today, however, the dark orbs remained guarded. The chip on his shoulder was still there—otherwise, why would he have stood off by himself, observing, instead of joining in the festivities? Regardless, she detected a maturity in Jake that hadn’t been present in high school. He might not be comfortable around others, but he appeared at ease with himself—as if he’d come to terms with who he’d become.
The new Jake Turner definitely intrigued her. “I guess you received the reunion announcement.” She’d sent the invitation to the only address Jake’s mother had had for him. Not in a million years had she expected the man to attend the extravaganza.
“I got it.” He watched a group of children gathered near a clown creating balloon animals.
“So you decided to attend at the last minute?” She was on the reunion committee and knew for a fact he hadn’t RSVP’d.
Jake narrowed his eyes. “The reunion gave me an excuse to clear up some unfinished business in town.”
Amanda wondered if his unfinished business had something to do with her. In case she didn’t have another chance, she offered, “Thank you for the generous cashier’s check you sent after your mother’s death.” Part of the money had been meant to bury his mother, Susan; the other, he’d insisted Amanda use for the library. When he didn’t respond, she touched his arm. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
Her breath caught at the flash of vulnerability in his eyes. “Thanks.” Then he glanced at her bare ring finger.
Ask him. She was thirty-seven—almost thirty-eight. If Jake was attached or even remotely involved with another woman, she’d wish him well and move on to…to…nothing. “Did you bring anyone special with you this weekend?”
“No,” he murmured, then added in a husky whisper, “I haven’t been involved with a woman for a long time.”
Flustered and excited by his admission, she motioned to the food tent. “Hungry?”
“Not particularly.” His penetrating stare made her nervous—in a good way. “Feel like going for a ride on my bike?” he asked.
“You still have that beat-up old motorcycle?”
A huge grin wreathed his face, reminding her of the hot guy she’d fallen head over heels for twenty years ago. He nodded to a brand-new Harley-Davidson parked along the street.
“Wow.” For someone with a high IQ she sure had a limited vocabulary.
“What do you say we take it for a spin.”
A ride on a Harley with Silver Cliff’s notorious bad boy…what more could a brain want?
Chapter Two
Wearing Jake’s helmet and black leather jacket, which smelled of musk cologne and pure Jake, Amanda wrapped her arms around his middle and lifted her face to the sun as the Harley sped along the mountain road.
The bike dipped around a sharp curve and she tightened her hold on his trim waist. Exhilaration whipped her body and she was tempted to stick out her hand and skim her fingers along the pavement. Jake’s ability to thrill hadn’t diminished with the passing of time. He made her long to take risks. Made her feel alive!
Amanda had been waiting for this moment—Jake Turner’s return—and she didn’t intend to waste a minute of their time together. As long as she didn’t fall under his spell again, life would go on as normal after he rode off into the sunset—without her.
Are you kidding? Amanda focused on the rev of the engine, hoping to block out the voice in her head.
You’re as stuck on the man today as you were twenty years ago. Maybe even more, seeing how your heart flipped when you spotted him in the park.
Yes, she’d been shocked Jake had shown up for the reunion. He was the last person she’d expected to attend from their graduating class. Still, hanging out with him during the next few days would be a nice diversion from her day-today routine.
Routine? Don’t you mean boring life?
Her life wasn’t that bad. She had friends. A good job. A nice little home.
No husband. No children. No lover. Some life.
Jake’s return would change nothing. She was under no illusions that being with him would evolve into anything other than a weekend of fun.
So you’re afraid to hope for more?
No. Maybe. Yes! She was afraid to wish Jake’s feelings for her might be more than simple nostalgia. After all, they’d almost made love the night before their high-school graduation ceremony. But something had stopped Jake.
“What’s wrong?” Amanda had begged, her hands grasping Jake’s waist, to pull him back on top of her.
“I can’t do this.” He pushed himself off the bed.
Amanda had assumed Jake was nervous about making love in her bedroom. “Don’t worry. My parents won’t be home until midnight.”
“I’m not worried.”
She’d yanked the sheet over her bare breasts and sat up. “Then why won’t you make love to me?” Amanda had never seen Jake so tormented before.
He’d shoved a hand through his mussed hair. “Because everything’s all screwed up.”
“What’s screwed up?”
“My feelings for you, damn it.”
“Are you saying you don’t care about me anymore?”
His hand turned the doorknob. “I’m saying I care too much.”
“What does that mean?”
“This is so wrong.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Amanda.”
That was the last time he’d spoken to her. After the graduation ceremony, he’d kissed her, then left town for good.
Forcing her thoughts away from analyzing her and Jake’s past, present and future relationship, she envisioned her straitlaced, rigid father’s expression at catching her riding on the back of Jake Turner’s Harley and laughed. Jake glanced over his shoulder and flashed a devil-may-care grin.
His smile reminded her of the day she’d walked into the detention room in the basement of the high school and offered her tutoring services. He’d been the only one in the room—par for the course since the rest of the students in their class were passing all their courses. Sitting at a desk in the far corner, he’d glared, daring her to reach out.
The thought of running had crossed her mind until she’d glimpsed the yearning in his eyes. He’d insisted he didn’t need her help and that he wasn’t a charity case. He’d attempted to frighten her off by arguing that people would talk behind their backs. Then all of a sudden he quit protesting. He opened his math book and muttered, “Knock yourself out.” They’d formed a fragile bond that day that had deepened with each tutoring session.
Jake left the highway and drove along a dirt-packed path up into the mountains. Amanda was familiar with the route. The road led to Jake’s childhood home—what was left of it, anyway. The home that had caused him
pain and heartache, much of which she’d only learned about after befriending his mother a few years before the woman had died.
Through the stories Susan had shared, Amanda had come to understand why Jake couldn’t leave town fast enough following graduation. Part of her envied him for having the courage to forge a new life away from Silver Cliff.
Amanda had chosen a different path—that of the dutiful daughter. After graduating from college, she’d returned to live temporarily in Silver Cliff while she searched for a job. She received an offer for a librarian position at a high school in Littleton, but before she’d even had her bags packed, her mother had suffered a series of ministrokes.
With her mother facing months of rehabilitation, Amanda hadn’t had the heart to leave her solely in the hands of Amanda’s aging father. Over time, it became obvious that Amanda’s mother would never fully recover from the effects of the strokes. That on top of developing postmenopausal osteoporosis had left her mother weak and vulnerable. So Amanda had resigned herself to staying in Silver Cliff and watching over her parents.
When her father had announced five years ago that he and Amanda’s mother intended to retire to an assisted-living facility in Florida, no one had been more shocked than Amanda. Finally free of the responsibility of her parents, she’d considered moving elsewhere. But the idea of beginning over again alone at the age of thirty-two had held little appeal.
The only one in their sixteen-member graduating class to remain in Silver Cliff, she’d been dreading attending the class reunion without a date. Enter her white knight—Jake Turner. His sudden appearance had Amanda wondering if it was time for her life to change course—maybe in the direction of the man she had her arms wrapped around.
Jake slowed the bike to a stop several feet from the one-story dilapidated shack. The roof had caved in this past winter under the weight of repeated snowfalls. The windows had been broken out and the furniture, not that there had been much, lay in mildewy ruin. Just as well she and Jake couldn’t enter. He shouldn’t view the spray-painted messages on the walls that vandals had left behind—DRUNKEN WHORE. BITCH. TRAMP.
Amanda slipped off the bike, removed her helmet and set it on the leather seat. Towering evergreens surrounded the house on three sides, creating a natural windbreak. Jake approached the bottom porch step and studied the front door, which hung crookedly on rusted hinges. After a moment he bent his head and rubbed his brow.
Amanda’s heart ached at the forlorn picture he made and she yearned for the power to erase his childhood and replace the memories with better ones. He held out a hand, summoning her.
She hurried to his side, sliding her fingers along his palm. His grip was warm and sure—yet a little needy. He nodded toward the flower bed on the east side of the cabin, which received a good portion of sunlight each day. “Someone’s been weeding my mother’s garden.”
He’d noticed. “Me.” After graduating from college and returning to Silver Cliff, Amanda had told her parents that she’d planned to visit Susan. She’d been feeling nostalgic and had hungered for news about Jake. Her father had become angry and had asked that she have nothing to do with a woman of loose morals. Hating to see her father so upset, Amanda had acceded to his wishes.
Now that she thought about it, the one and only instance she’d held her ground with her folks had been when they’d demanded she stop tutoring Jake because a boy like that would soil her reputation. When her father had been confronted by his parishioners, who’d frowned upon his daughter’s involvement with Susan Turner’s illegitimate son, her father had been forced to resort to the standard it’s-the-Christian-thing-to-do sermon.
After Amanda’s parents had moved to Florida, she immediately sought out Susan and made an effort to become better acquainted with her. Jake’s mother had invited Amanda to visit at the cabin. In the end, when Susan had been too sick to garden, Amanda had helped her to a chair in the yard, where she could watch Amanda tend to her beautiful flowers.
Susan had shared numerous memories of Jake’s childhood with her. Most of them were sad, but a few had been sweet. The memories had made Amanda feel closer to Jake. After Susan died, she’d continued to tend the garden because she hadn’t been willing to give up the only connection she’d had to Jake. “I spent many afternoons with your mother in her garden. We were good friends at the time of her death.”
“Friends?” Jake’s eyes narrowed as if searching for a hidden meaning behind the word.
Amanda eased her hand from his and strolled to the edge of the flower bed. There, she knelt and commenced pulling weeds. “One afternoon your mother showed up at the library and checked out a book on ovarian cancer. She’d never admitted to being ill, but it wasn’t long before her body showed signs of the disease.”
Jake’s large-booted foot appeared next to Amanda’s thigh. “Why didn’t she seek medical treatment?”
“Your mother didn’t have insurance.” Amanda glanced up and winced at the guilty flush suffusing his face.
“If I’d known, I would have sent more money,” he whispered.
“She didn’t want you to know, Jake.” Amanda tugged his pant leg and he squatted next to her on the grass. “Susan confessed that you’d been mailing her a monthly allowance for years. She believed it was more than she deserved.”
A nerve along Jake’s jaw throbbed and Amanda decided to change the subject. “She had a lot to say about you.”
“I’m surprised she could recall anything after drinking herself stupid for years.” As much as Jake wished others to believe he hated his mother, Amanda sensed that he hungered for information about her.
“Susan admitted she was a horrible mother to you.”
His eyes widened. “She did?”
“Yes. And more.” Yearning to offer comfort, but believing he wouldn’t accept it, she settled for leaning against his side. “Susan claimed your father had broken her heart when he’d walked out on the two of you. She mourned the loss of his love so deeply that she gave up on anyone or anything.”
“No shit.” Jake shot off the ground and turned his back to Amanda, his chest heaving, his lungs struggling for air.
“Before she died she asked me to tell you that you were the one bright spot in her life and she was sorry you’d been stuck with her for a mother.”
Sorry. His mother was sorry?
The little boy in Jake struggled not to raise his fist to the heavens and shout, No! No! I won’t forgive you! But the man in him understood the futility in holding a grudge against a dead woman. Why hadn’t his mother reached out to him after he’d begun sending money? He might have reached back. Maybe he would have returned home. Maybe she would have begged for his forgiveness. Maybe he would have offered it.
Heck of a lot of maybes…
Amanda stood and clasped his shoulder. He tensed, then relaxed as the warmth of her comforting touch seeped through his T-shirt. “She also wanted you to understand the reason she never celebrated your birthday.”
“Let me guess. My mother regretted getting pregnant with me.”
“No.” Amanda slipped around him and gazed up at his face. For a second he forgot everything and lost himself in her bottomless blue eyes…eyes that saw into his soul, saw his pain, his hunger, the yearning for her that he couldn’t hide.
“On your first birthday, your father walked out on you and your mother for good. From that day on, every Fourth of July was a reminder that another year had passed and your father hadn’t returned.”
Jake ached for his mother. But if she’d loved his father that deeply how could she have allowed herself to be exploited by other men…by Amanda’s father? “What do you expect me to say? That I forgive my mother? That I understand?” Shoot, his kindergarten teacher had been the one to inform him that his birthday was the Fourth of July.
“Follow me.” Amanda grabbed his hand and strolled to the far end of the garden. “Notice that cluster of blue and white flowers in the corner?” She pointed several yards away.
> “What’s special about them?” He could get accustomed to the feel of her fingers entwined with his.
“Those are the first perennials your mother planted in honor of your birthday. Every Fourth of July since you graduated from high school and left town, Susan planted a new flower to commemorate your birthday. After she died, I carried on the tradition.” Amanda indicated a small mound of freshly churned dirt. “Canterbury bells. I planted them early this morning.”
Jake’s throat constricted. After a twenty-year separation Amanda still cared. Otherwise why would she have gone to all the trouble of planting a flower for him each year on his birthday? He studied her pretty face almost believing her goodness had the power to erase the past. To make him forgive her father’s sin.
“Happy birthday, Jake,” she murmured, then did the most amazing thing—rose on tiptoe and kissed him. A gentle, chaste caress.
“That’s the nicest birthday gift I’ve ever received.”
Amanda clasped his face between her hands. “Your mother loved you. In her own way. As much as she could.”
“I’m glad she had you and wasn’t alone at the end. Thank you for making sure she was buried in the church cemetery.”
A sheepish expression crossed Amanda’s face and she wiggled loose. “Actually, Susan wanted to be buried here.” Amanda motioned to a subtle swell of earth beneath a large evergreen. “She said that when you were little, you hid in the tree while she entertained…”
“It was either that or get slapped around by one of her drunken boyfriends.” Jake remembered waking in the middle of one freezing October night to find a warm quilt shoved up under the branches within his reach. Maybe his mother had loved him.
“You’d told your mother the tree made you feel safe. Near her death, she asked to be buried by the tree because she craved to feel that same safeness.”
A Baby On The Way Page 2