“You ever hurt her, I’ll take you apart a piece at a time,” Emma said, dead serious.
I’m not the one who hurt her, little girl, Stone thought, looking down into Deirdre’s daughter’s eyes. Please, God, don’t ever let Emma find out who did.
Emma watched Stone turn and go back up the stairs, not sure how she felt. There was so much to sort through, so much to figure out. Her mom in love. Someone besides Emma to take care of her. And only a few more months before New York, leaving Drew behind. He said they’d write letters, talk on the telephone, visit whenever they could. He loved her enough to make it work somehow. Emma believed him.
And yet, to be so far away…from Whitewater, the town she’d hated for so long, from her mom and the twins and Aunt Finn, Uncle Cade and the new baby and the Captain. He was getting older, frail. Someday he wouldn’t be there when she came home. But she had to go, had to fly, had to at least reach for her dreams. She was too much a McDaniel to know how not to.
Emma crossed to the window, peered out across the garden, certain she couldn’t sleep.
It would be hours still before a light shone in the cabin window. But she knew who’d be the one to turn it on. The Captain, always the first to rise.
She might not know how she felt about her mom yet. But Emma did know this.
She had a promise to keep.
CHAPTER 18
DEIRDRE STIRRED IN BED, fighting monsters she couldn’t see. Someone had taken sandpaper to the insides of her eyelids and rasped her throat raw. She came awake in stages, the one thing that anchored her in the groggy chaos was that her fingers curled against something hard, warm, alive. A heartbeat. Jake’s.
He was here, in her room, in her bed.
Deirdre’s eyes opened to his dark hair spilling across her pillow, the hard angles of his face lined with worry even in sleep. He was still dressed, but his tie and jacket were cast aside, and he’d opened three buttons on his shirt to loosen the collar at his throat. She felt far lighter—her legs free of the slacks she’d had on the night before.
What in the name of heaven had happened?
She raised a shaky hand to her face, felt the puffiness of eyes swollen from crying. The night before flooded back to her in excruciating detail. The interminable concert, the music that spoke to Deirdre’s soul, the hopes she’d carried with her as she’d tied her blue silk scarf and climbed into Jake’s truck.
But her rosy dreams of the reunion with her birth father had been shattered. She’d never be able to forget Big Jim Rivers’s alcohol-reddened eyes, his cynical drawl as he’d dashed all hope that this stranger could somehow make her feel what? Whole? As if she belonged? Explain why she’d felt so disconnected and why there was such strain between Deirdre and her mother?
Your mom was nothing special.…
The casual cruelty in Rivers’s dismissal cut Deirdre anew. She closed her eyes, Emmaline McDaniel’s image haunting her memory. Her mother’s fragility, the gentleness in her, as if she was no stronger than the china ladies she’d loved to collect. Exquisite women in bonnets and hoop skirts, their delicate hands stretched out as if reaching for things only Emmaline had been able to understand. Peace. Tenderness. Quiet and serenity.
Qualities the rest of the McDaniel family had lacked.
Her mother, always trying so hard to be good, do everything right in the eyes of the rest of the world. She’d broken her marriage vows, believed she was in love with a man she could share the things she loved with. Her music, her books, her quiet teas and lace-trimmed tablecloths she’d stored away beneath the lid of the hope chest. But that forbidden love had come crashing down on her head, until the only thing left was guilt and shame and a daughter who was a daily reminder of her transgression.
Deirdre stilled, suddenly aware of the weight of Stone’s gaze. His lashes so thick they threw shadows on his high cheekbones, his sensual mouth softened, unmistakably tender, his gaze racked with worry.
Alarm shot through Deirdre. Oh, God! Stone here. In her bed. Was she out of her mind? Emma was going to explode.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, bolting upright, clutching her blouse together at the throat. “Emma—”
“Emma asked me to stay.”
“She what?” Deirdre gasped, disbelieving.
Jake brushed a stray lock of hair back from his jaw. “She didn’t know how to talk to you but she didn’t want you to be alone.”
Deirdre frowned. “You told her about last night?”
“Yeah.”
Shame washed over Deirdre, hot and fierce. “You had no right!”
“I was afraid you might feel that way.” Stone slid his big body up until he leaned against Deirdre’s headboard. He looked rumpled, pillow lines pressed into his beard-stubbled cheek. If circumstances had been different he’d have been any woman’s hottest fantasy. But Deirdre felt as if he’d dragged her behind his car all the way from St. Louis last night.
Her temper sparked, blessedly familiar, centering her after the misery, the sense of helplessness that had tormented her the night before. “But you just blurted the whole sordid story out, even though you knew I wouldn’t want you to.”
“I had to tell her something.” Stone took her hand, held it fast even when she made a halfhearted attempt to pull it away. “You looked like hell, passed out in my truck. I…carried you in. You were so damned exhausted. No wonder, after worrying about that meeting for days.”
“But Emma—”
“Emma was in her room when I carried you up. She helped me get you settled in bed, got your shoes off and your slacks.”
“She’s the child!” Deirdre snapped. “She’s not supposed to be taking care of me.”
“What she is, Dee, is nearly a woman,” Jake said softly, “and she loves you.”
“Oh, yeah. She’s plain old adored me lately.” Deirdre gave a hoarse laugh. “But then, if you told her what a disaster my meeting with my birth father was, it’s no wonder she was in such a helpful mood. What’s that old adage? To every cloud there is a silver lining. Guess I should focus on the fact that at least one person will be thrilled with the way things turned out. It looks like Emma was right. I tore my family apart for nothing. So I could meet a man like that.”
“You couldn’t have known things would turn out this way.” He feathered his thumb across her knuckles.
Deirdre winced, felt herself curl inward. “I keep thinking of Mom. How humiliated she must have been when Rivers left her. Just…threw her away like that. As if she was nothing. No wonder she couldn’t love me the way she loved Cade.”
Jake cradled her cheek with his hand, urged her to look at him. She ached from his touch, wondered how she’d survived without it so long, wondered what would happen to her now if she lost it. If she’d shrivel up inside like her mother had done, fading away a breath at a time. No. She was made of sterner stuff. She’d turn into a hard shell, look the same, act the same, but there would be nothing soft left inside.
“Whatever Rivers did to your mother, however he hurt her, Dee, it’s not your fault,” Jake insisted. “You’re not responsible.”
She knew in her head that was true. It was her heart that wouldn’t believe him. “Want to hear something funny?” she asked, leaning into his warmth.
“What’s that?”
“When I was growing up my mom was always saying, ‘You’re just like your father, Deirdre.’ Now I can’t help wondering which father she meant.” She shuddered. “I keep thinking how I talked about being a musician all the time. It must have sickened her when I started to sing. I made fun of the jazz she was always playing, old love songs about broken hearts. Now I know why she sang them. I wish I could make it up to her. Tell her I didn’t understand. I’m sorry. But it’s too late. She can’t hear me anymore.”
Stone drew her into his arms. She laid her cheek against his chest, comforted a little by the rhythm of his heart, so steady, already so familiar. “If Trula were here, you know what she’d say?”
Deirdre managed a halfhearted smile. “Besides ‘Jacob, don’t you know you’re supposed to take your clothes off when you go to bed with a lady?’”
Stone chuckled. “Emma’s one stipulation for me staying the night was that I wouldn’t—and this is a direct quote—jump your bones. I’m trying to abide by the peace treaty I struck with your daughter. She said she’d tear me limb from limb if I hurt you. It was plenty scary, let me tell you. The girl takes after her mother.”
Deirdre’s heart squeezed, grateful to know that beneath Emma’s teenage drama and the strain and hurt Deirdre’s search for Jim Rivers had caused, her daughter still loved her. And yet…
“Emma’s nothing like me. She’s so…open, so eager for life. So sure she’ll find something wonderful.” Wistfulness tugged in Deirdre’s chest. “What if…”
She couldn’t put her fears into words, not even with Jake. What if she finds disillusionment, disaster, hard falls instead of bright lights and an audience who loves her?
“She’ll get her chance. Her acceptance letter from the drama school came through.”
“She never told me,” Deirdre said, hurt flooding through her.
“She will.” He was so certain, she had to believe him. Had to remember how hurt and confused her little girl had been. Deirdre would find some way to make it up to her.
But that would be between her and Emma. No more secrets and resentment and walling each other out. She’d tell Stone all about it later. But for now, Deirdre reached for a far safer subject. “You were going to pass on one of Trula’s gems of wisdom. About my mom and me, and it being too late. What would your grandmother say?”
“It’s not so much what she says as it is this crazy thing she does.”
“Besides painting things in colors that give sane people migraines?”
“Yeah. Besides that. Sometimes at night, Trula dances for Tony. He used to love it when she danced just for him, and she can’t imagine God would mind him taking a peek from heaven now and then. She says she knows when he’s watching because she hears him wolf whistling, just like he did the times he saved enough money to buy a front-row ticket to her show in Vegas.”
Deirdre imagined feeling so close to someone, loving them so much that even death couldn’t break the tie between them. Wondered if she’d still be able to feel Jake’s heartbeat as if it were under her own skin fifty years from now.
“What if…” Stone flushed, uncertain. “What if you sang a set of your mom’s favorite songs at the reunion next week?”
“You mean instead of my angry feminist fare? It was going to feel pretty weird performing Janis Joplin and Pat Benetar. ‘Hit Me with Your Best Shot’ is my signature song.”
“Maybe it was, but not anymore.” Shadows deepened the love in Jake’s eyes. “You’re a woman now, with a woman’s wisdom and a woman’s sorrow and strength. You’ve lived, Dee. Survived. Hell, you’ve thrived.”
He looked so awed by that, so proud of her. But Deirdre knew her facade was a lie. “You’re wrong about that, Jake. For the past six years I’ve just put one foot in front of the other, that’s all. I made a home for Emma. Tried to forget I ever wanted anything else.”
“Emma knows that. She wants more for you. She’s leaving home soon to start her life. Her only regret is that when she does you’ll be alone.”
Deirdre knew it was true. She’d seen the worry in her little girl’s eyes, the anxious hope when she’d trapped Deirdre and Stone into that first date at Lagos.
Jake cleared his throat. “I told her I’d do my best to change all that.”
“What in the world?”
Jake looked defiant, a little bit like he was steeling himself for an explosion. “Your daughter asked what my intentions are concerning you. I told her I love you. I want to marry you.”
Deirdre’s heart slammed against her ribs, her whole body shaky. “That’s insane, Jake. I can’t…”
“I’m not asking you for an answer,” he asserted stubbornly. “Just give us time, a chance. You’re only thirty-three years old, Deirdre. Your life’s not over when Emma walks out that door. You’ve lived for your daughter the past sixteen years. Now don’t you think you deserve to live for yourself?”
Did he have any idea how terrifying it was, looking out at the future through his eyes, seeing infinite possibilities. Chances to fail again, to mess up not only her own life, but Jake’s and Emma’s, as well? To be responsible for someone’s happiness? Terror jolted down her spine. “Jake, I—”
He kissed her, his mouth sinfully persuasive, seductive on hers. “Let me give you what Tank and Lucy have,” Jake murmured against her cheek, “what Trula and Manoletti had. I never thought that kind of happiness was possible for me. I never believed I’d fall in love this way. I’m a cynical P.I. with secrets I could never tell. But from the moment I met you, you made me want all that happily-ever-after stuff. You belong in my bed, Deirdre, wedged in between me and Ellie May. I want your face to be the first thing I see every morning and your body the last thing I feel every night. I want you to have my babies. Little girls with your attitude and my eyes.”
Oh, God, Deirdre thought, stark panic washing over her. She’d just managed to raise Emma, if she could just get the girl through these last months in Whitewater the tearing suspense would be over, her fears that she’d do something wrong, damage her little girl the way she’d been damaged years ago. And yet, the thought of Jake filling her with his child made her ache with emptiness inside. She closed her eyes, picturing him with the Rizzos’ tribe of little boys, Jake’s smile blazing, his laughter ringing out across the sweep of backyard. “I…I don’t know what to say.”
Jake peered down into her face, his eyes filled with dreams she wasn’t sure she had the courage to share. “Don’t say anything until you’re ready,” he soothed her. “Just think. What would it be like if your life was more like Emma’s than you realized, Dee? What if your life is just beginning?”
SHE WAS WEARING A DRESS. If anyone could call this swath of black material by a name so pretentious.
Black satin hugged her curves, a swath of creamy skin bared all the way to the small of her back, a few delicate crisscrossing straps keeping the bodice from falling down. The tops of her breasts and just a hint of cleavage swelled above the deep vee of the neckline, while just beneath the place where the center of her bra would have hit, the designer had cut out a keyhole where a tantalizing flash of forbidden skin peeped out.
Deirdre stared at her reflection in Emma’s full-length mirror. What in God’s name had possessed her to take her sixteen-year-old daughter shopping for an outfit to wear to the reunion? Deirdre asked herself. They’d gone out for a day’s shopping at a mall an hour from Whitewater, celebrating Emma’s acceptance into drama school. And Deirdre had hoped to smooth the waters even more between them, capitalize on the latest truce. But she’d had no idea that Jake Stone had created a monster the night he’d confided in Emma the hopes he had for the future.
Emma had latched on to Stone’s proposal the way she’d latched on to Deirdre’s breast the first time she nursed her, Emma’s tiny, little rosebud mouth fastening on with a fierceness that had made Deirdre certain she’d passed to her daughter the strong McDaniel will.
Guilt stirred in Deirdre at the thought, a reminder that she hadn’t been able to make herself take Stone’s advice, hadn’t been able to really talk to the Captain at all.
Except, of course, for tentative conversations that meant nothing at all. How was Montana? Cade said the house at Linden Lane sold last Tuesday. I see you’re walking without a cane, you stubborn old son of a gun. But then, I knew you would prove the doomsayers wrong.
She’d said everything except the one thing that really mattered. And yet, she’d comforted herself the only way she could. Telling herself that maybe she didn’t need to say a thing to anyone where her birth father was concerned. No doubt Emma had blabbed what had happened with Big Jim Rivers. Part of Deirdre couldn’t help but be grateful.
/>
Especially the part of her that still had no idea what to say to the people her search had hurt the most.
“Mom, you look so hot!” Emma enthused, driving back the sobering thoughts as she zipped Deirdre up in back. “I barely recognize you!”
“Is that a compliment or a slam? I’m not quite sure.”
“A compliment. Definitely.” Emma grinned over Deirdre’s shoulder, the mirror catching the devilment in Emma’s dark eyes. “Jake’s jaw is going to hit the floor when he sets eyes on you.”
A flutter of anticipation brushed against Deirdre’s ribs. She had to admit imagining Jake’s reaction was what had made her lay down her cold hard cash for something she doubted she’d ever wear again.
“That’s just the effect I was going for. My date looking like a dead fish when we head into the hall. Think how impressed the reunion Nazis will be.”
“They’ll be green with envy. Especially when you get up onstage and sing,” Emma said, wistfully. “I wish I could be there to hear you.”
“I’d think you’d be sick of hearing me practice.”
“Never. I missed it so much. I’m not dumb, Mom. I know you quit your music because of me. It made me feel so bad. Like I’d stolen it from you.”
“I’m the one who stole from you. My time. My attention. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.”
“You’d better, or you’re going to have to take it up with me, Mom. Maybe it’s time we both got over that whole guilt trip, huh? When I hear you sing, it’s like…like listening to secrets from your soul. I guess I’ll have to be satisfied watching the tape,” Emma said. “Drew’s doing all the tech work, the sound and stuff tonight. I made him promise to film your performance and tell me all about it. If only I didn’t have to go on this stupid choir trip I’d have made him sneak me in.”
Deirdre felt a flash of gratitude that Emma’s bus was leaving an hour before the festivities began. Facing the demons of her tumultuous high school years was going to be hard enough for Deirdre. She didn’t want Emma to see…