by Cara Colter
They fell back onto the sofa, kissing and touching. Wanting to forget all they had to face.
“I need you, Jennifer, I need you,” he murmured as he kissed her throat, rough and gravel-edged with desire and pain. “Don’t go now, baby, don’t …”
“Noah,” she whispered back, turning her face to kiss his mouth again. Oh, the rush of beauty and wanting—it had never been like this for her before, and walking suddenly wasn’t an option. “I’m here, Noah, I’m here.”
“I thought I could take the risk—that I could be near you and walk away later, but I can’t.” He kissed her over and over, face, lips, throat and the hollow between her breasts; branding her as his with mouth and hands, caressing her in a fever that ignited hers, until her legs felt like jelly and her arms trembled with longing for more, for everything.
Longing to say the words that would change everything—then he nipped the corner between shoulder and throat as he caressed her breast, and words fled except one.
“Now,” she whispered, arching up to him. “Now …”
He looked down at her, his eyes black and intense with desire. “The bedroom.”
“Yes, yes.” She got to her feet, then sat abruptly. “I don’t think I can walk that far. I’m shaking,” she confessed.
He smiled, his eyes softening in tenderness; then he swung her up in his arms, heading for his bedroom. “You’re mine,” he growled with soft nibbles to the vulnerable corner again, and she went limp in his arms. “I won’t let you leave me, Jennifer. You hear me? I won’t let you leave.”
Where had her gentle Noah gone? He sounded so fierce—and in those dark jeans and shirt he looked like a warrior fighting a battle in darkness. She shuddered in primitive response to it, unable to think beyond this moment; she loved him so much. She moaned, seeking his mouth again.
Lights on high beam turned into the driveway. The crunching of tyres over gravel came, and kept coming, as if a semitrailer had turned in.
“The kids are here,” she said, her voice flat and tight with thwarted passion.
Noah stilled, and looked down at her in tender command. “Tonight, Jennifer,” he rasped as he slowly set her on her feet.
Sadness filled her; she shook her head. Their chance was gone.
He read her without any difficulty. His eyes burned into hers. “Tonight. There won’t be regrets or second thoughts. You’re mine.”
She shuddered again, and clung to him until she was sure her legs would carry her weight. “I should go now.”
“Don’t go, Jennifer.” He held up a hand as she tried to speak. “I know you’re thinking of Peter and Jan and Tim—but Cilla and Rowdy will be confused and scared by all the emotion. They’ll need someone … distanced from it. They’ll need someone they love to explain it all to them. Maybe to take them out of it.”
Jennifer gnawed on the inside of her lip, but there was no way to discount what he’d said. Cilla and Rowdy had no memories of Belinda, and the raw grief bound to come from Tim and their grandparents would confuse and frighten them.
“I’ll stay,” she said slowly, “until the children are asleep.”
“And beyond,” he added in quiet force. “Peter and Jan won’t stay the night.”
Before she could answer, the door flew open and Tim rushed in, his face alight and eager. “Dad! Dad, we’re home. Nana and Pa said there’s news of Mummy!”
In a moment, the sensual man became one hundred percent father. Noah watched his little boy running to him, knowing this would probably be the last time Tim was a little boy. He knelt down to catch his son in his arms. “Yes, matey,” he said, gruff with sadness. “There’s real news this time.”
At Noah’s tone of voice, Tim whitened and began to struggle against him. “No … you’re lying. Mummy just went away for a while!”
“Ah, matey.” Noah held him gently. “They found her. Mummy never ran away, matey. She was hurt when she went out that day. She was gone all along. She’s—at peace, Tim. She’s not sad or hurting any more.”
“No. No!”
The wail came from the open doorway, where Jan stood, clinging to the handle. She was white and shaking. “No … my girl, my Linnie …”
Tim slumped against Noah, with a high-pitched wail.
Peter was already dialling a number—the number for the Missing Persons Unit, no doubt.
Noah said quietly, “It’s true, Peter. It was a hit-and-run. The driver finally got an attack of conscience and wrote a letter, telling where he’d buried her—and they found her.”
And for some reason, the emotion overcame him. Three simple words changed his life. They found her. The choking ball of tightness cut off his breathing. One gulp, two—and the tears came at last, the tears he hadn’t been able to shed since the day she’d gone missing. He held his little son in his arms and they cried together, while Peter yelled at the people from the Missing Persons Unit and Jan kept shaking her head, refusing to believe her daughter was—
But she knew it, just as Noah knew. Belinda was gone.
Peter was rapping out question after question to the person on the phone while Jan’s face slowly crumpled, seeing the defeated slump to her husband’s shoulders.
The dream was over. Though they’d refused to believe, Noah suspected they’d always known, deep down, because Belinda would never have left her family. She was dead, their daughter, his wife, the mother of his kids—and it was a damned stupid accident. Somebody in a rush to get somewhere, not thinking of the consequences—and a family had fallen apart …
No, you didn’t, Noah. You held them together. The kids are okay, thanks to you.
In the midst of sudden, overwhelming grief, Belinda’s voice came to him so clearly he almost turned around to find its source. Instead he wanted to thwack his head. He didn’t believe in life after death, and—
You chose well, Noah. She’s a beautiful, loving woman. She’ll be good to our kids.
He couldn’t help turning his head. She’d gathered Cilla and Rowdy onto her lap on the sofa in the furthest corner of the room, holding them close as Cilla sucked her thumb furiously and Rowdy, frightened by all the grief, was crying too. Jennifer’s face was filled with tenderness as she held them and told them she was here, that it was all right to cry.
Cilla laid her head on Jennifer’s breast and escaped the only way she could, falling asleep; and Jennifer held her and caressed her hair, while murmuring loving words to Rowdy, whose tears were already subsiding.
Tim kept beating his fists against Noah’s chest, with those sad little wails, slowly descending to hiccups. Noah murmured over and over, “It’s all right, matey. She never left you. She loved you—she loved us all. It wasn’t her fault—she never left you.”
Peter finally hung up the phone and just stared at his wife, his eyes filled with horror and devastation. Jan collapsed on Peter, sobbing.
Tim hiccupped and looked up at Noah. “Nana and Pa said …”
Noah knew what Tim couldn’t say. “They needed to believe it was my fault, Tim. I always understood that.” He looked up briefly at his mother-in-law. “They needed to believe she was alive. They wanted a reason for her not wanting to come home.”
His son nodded. “But … it wasn’t your fault,” he whispered. “Dad …”
The tears streaking down his face blended with Tim’s as he felt him close again. “Ah, don’t, matey. I know. You had to keep your promise.”
Tim sobbed against his chest, whispering, “Daddy, Daddy.”
And finally, after three long years, Noah knew his little son would be all right. He’d come home at last. In being found, Belinda had released Tim from the promise that had become an unbearable burden for eight-year-old shoulders.
Closure. It was as if Belinda had somehow given them all her blessing in moving on, in finding healing …
“What is she doing here?”
Jan’s accusing voice startled them all. Cilla jumped in Jennifer’s lap, and started crying; Rowdy wailed again�
�and Tim noticed Jennifer for the first time. “Jen … my mummy’s dead,” he sobbed, and ran to her. Somehow Jennifer found a few inches more space on her lap for him, crooning soft words of comfort.
Peter and Jan gasped, as if Tim had betrayed them. Noah groaned inside. They needed to be angry right now, and they’d found the perfect target.
“What is she doing here?” Jan snapped. “She’s an outsider. She didn’t know Linnie!”
But Noah had had enough. “Stop right there, Jan. Jennifer’s a close family friend, she minds Cilla and Rowdy most days, and the kids love her.”
“She’s an outsider. She doesn’t deserve to be here!” Peter yelled.
“She didn’t know Linnie!” Jan near-screamed, setting off all three kids into terrified tears.
“No, she didn’t, but she knows the kids—and for once in three years, I’d like you to put your grandchildren’s welfare before your feelings. Tonight isn’t about Belinda. This is about my kids’ needs—and they need Jennifer!”
“Get out. Get out!” Jan screamed at Jennifer—but Noah stepped into her range of sight.
“This is my home, Jan. I’ve told you Jennifer’s welcome,” he said coldly. “I loved Belinda all my life, too. I know you’re grieving, but I will not allow you to take it out on Jennifer. Belinda’s gone, and the kids love and need Jennifer—and so do I.”
Jan gasped and whitened. Peter stepped forward with clenched fists. “Damn you, boy, you only just found out our girl—your wife—is gone!” he yelled.
Noah held up a hand. “How many more years do I have to live alone to prove to you that I loved her?” he asked wearily. “You’ve set Tim up as my watchdog, stopping anyone from getting near. You’ve reminded him of his promise over and over, keeping the family ready for Belinda’s return. You now know it’s not going to happen. And despite his best efforts, Tim loves Jennifer as much as Cilla and Rowdy—”
“His real name is Jesse,” Peter snarled. “Linnie named him Jesse!”
“—and I’m not going to allow you to damage that for your need to keep Belinda alive. My kids will always know who their mother was—I’ll make sure of that. But she’s gone, and these kids need a mother. And I need Jennifer. I love her, and I want to marry her.”
Jan burst into tears again. Peter stood over Noah, his face mottled with fury … but Noah’s focus was on the silent woman holding his kids. What she was thinking about his declaration.
“You forget quickly,” Peter sneered. “It shows what my girl meant to you.”
“Enough,” he snarled, so harshly Peter took a step back. “I won’t apologise for putting a new life together for myself and the kids. We’ve been through enough pain.”
He met his father-in-law’s eyes without flinching. “I’ve only got one more thing to say. For three years I’ve allowed you to blame me for everything. But you’ve damaged Tim—and I won’t allow that anymore. I wasn’t responsible for Belinda’s disappearance—you know that now. You’ll always be welcome here, and be a part of the kids’ lives—but I’ll never let you hurt them this way again. Belinda would never have allowed it.”
At the mention of her name, both their faces crumpled, and he knew it had been a low, if necessary blow. This was the first day of their grief—until now they’d lived in fear and determination, but never allowed grief to be part of their emotions.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “but it had to be said. You both need time now to grieve—but the kids and I need to move on. We’ve done our share.”
“I want to go see the Missing Persons people.” Peter turned his back on Noah. “The kids’ bags will be on the verandah.” He held out his arms to the kids. “Nana and Pa have to go now. Be good for—for Daddy,” he said, his voice gruff with tears, “and don’t you ever forget your mummy.”
He glared at Jennifer when the kids hesitated.
“Go to Pa,” she said softly, avoiding Noah’s eyes. “Kiss Nana and Pa goodbye, and thank them for your lovely holiday.”
As the kids hugged Jan and Peter, Noah thought of the holiday the kids hadn’t had, and vowed to take them back to the Gold Coast as soon as the weather grew warmer.
Then he noticed Jennifer, sitting stiff and still on the sofa. She wasn’t looking at him—she hadn’t looked at him since he’d stated his intentions to Jan and Peter.
She didn’t look like a woman in love. She looked as if she desperately wanted to bolt.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IT WAS after ten by the time they finally got the kids to bed. She’d sung a dozen lullabies to Cilla, and they’d had to lay on either side of Tim and hold him as he cried himself to sleep.
Rowdy, tired out by his crying, had fallen asleep hours ago, even before dinner.
In the living room again, Jennifer stretched, feeling the bones crack in her back. She was so tired—but there was more to come. There was no way Noah would let her leave without …
The gulp hurt her throat and chest. He had the right to expect something from her. If she’d meant her rejection today, she shouldn’t have kissed him and allowed him to touch her with such intimacy. She shouldn’t have almost demanded they make love.
And oh, how she still wanted to—she ached for him—but could she take him into her arms, spend the night in his bed, and then reject his proposal a second time?
When she heard his step on the floorboards, she almost turned tail and ran. Then she felt ashamed. If Noah could face her the day his proposal was rejected, he discovered he was a widower, confronted his parents-in-law and brought his son to terms with the loss of his mother, what right did she have to be a coward?
So she swung around and smiled at him. “Quite a day, huh?”
He didn’t bother with preliminaries. His red-rimmed eyes bored into hers, no compromise, no surrender. “But it’s over for us, isn’t it? Just tell me the truth, Jennifer. I’m too bloody tired to tap-dance around it.”
It seemed this was the week her gentle Noah came into his own. He wasn’t going to stop her—but he wouldn’t let her off the hook, either. If she was going, she had to do so honestly. She walked over to him, lifted her hands and, seeing the flat distance in his eyes, let them fall. “A lot of things have changed since this afternoon,” she said, feeling her way.
“But not your decision, right?” he asked, sounding unutterably weary. “You haven’t looked at me since I told my in-laws I wanted to marry you.”
She spread her hands wide, praying he’d understand. “I told you why I wouldn’t remarry. That hasn’t changed. It never will.”
“You’re turning me down because you want my baby. You love me the way I love you, but you can’t have my baby, so all five of us have to suffer the consequences. You don’t get one thing you want, so we all miss out on happiness. Is that it?”
The casual-seeming words made her catch her breath, then it got stuck there, choking her. She coughed and coughed, but it did nothing; the stinging came, the tears welled up, filling her eyes. “Noah …”
“Is that everything?” His tone was almost conversational. “You were the one who said we can’t always get what we want. So I lose the love of the rest of my life for a genetic defect, and my kids lose the mother they adore because they’re not enough for you.”
She did gasp then. “It’s not that!” It was the other way around … wasn’t it? That she wasn’t enough for them?
He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Yeah, it looks like we don’t always get what we want—but walking away from me, from us, still isn’t going to give you a baby. Nothing’s going to do that—but for some reason, you think punishing us all for your broken dreams will work for you.”
“No!” It was a strangled croak now. “I never said that, or thought it … Noah, please …”
“Didn’t you? Didn’t you say that?” Suddenly he was right in her face, speaking with guttural demand. “Because that’s what I could have sworn you said. You love me, but I’m not enough. You want my baby, but the three kids I have, al
l little more than babies, aren’t enough, either. They have to have your genetic code, or have come from your body, to be worth a lifetime of love.”
The bald fury of his statement knocked her arguments down flat. “It … it’s not that …”
“Isn’t it?”
A lifetime of longing, of knowledge of what she’d always dreamed of having, withered and died before the raw pain in his eyes. She didn’t know what to say. Nothing would make this right. How could she say it? Tell me it’s real—tell me you love me as much as you love Belinda. Tell me the grief I saw tonight wasn’t the raw grief of a man still in love with his wife!
Second best, always second best in her life. A life where she either replaced what she wanted with next best, or she was next best. She could never be the woman he’d loved since he was thirteen, but she could be a great wife and mother … a terrific replacement.
She couldn’t do it. One of them she could handle, but both would break her in two.
“I’m sorry,” she faltered, feeling more inadequate, more foolish than she ever had in her life. “There couldn’t be a worse day for this …”
“There is no right day, Jennifer.” He turned away, his body stiff, his face white. “I have to pull a miracle out of a hat to be good enough for you. The fact that you’re leaving me the day I find out my wife’s dead is beside the point. My falling in love with you was my decision, my problem. I’m a man and can handle losing you if I have to. But the fact that you made my kids love and rely on you—to look on you as a mother, when you never meant to stay—that I couldn’t believe of you.”
She stepped back, almost falling over, but found nothing to say. Do you? Do you love me, Noah, now you know Belinda never left you, but died? It rang in her mind, but somehow it seemed ridiculously selfish, given all he and his family had been through today.
