Emily's Daughter

by Linda Warren

  He was hungry for her and couldn’t get enough. He pulled her closer, trying to soak up every nuance that was her. Her sweet fragrance filled his senses and he wanted to absorb her pain and heartache, but most of all he wanted to erase any separation between them. He wanted her close to him, as close as they could get.

  Emily’s head was spinning and a strong, smoldering need pooled deep in her belly. “Make love to me,” she breathed into his mouth.

  “Are you sure?” he asked raggedly as he kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her neck.

  She tipped her head back and whispered, “Yes.”

  His lips explored the curve of her neck and shoulder, then moved lower. “I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow.”

  She gasped as his lips found her sensitive breast. “Stop talking, Jackson.”

  His fingers unfastened the rest of the buttons on her blouse and deftly unsnapped her bra. In a second they were gone, allowing him free access. Delicious shudders jolted through her as he licked and teased her taut nipples. She didn’t remember reacting this powerfully to his touch before, but she must have. Perhaps she’d just tucked it away in a secret place. But now the pleasure was sharp and intense and totally enslaved her.

  Her hands were at work on his body, too, easing away the robe to explore his shoulders and chest and the swirls of dark blond hair. Her hand drifted lower and she realized he didn’t have anything on beneath the robe. She ran her finger over the length of him and he groaned and captured her mouth.

  Somehow her slacks and panties were removed and their naked bodies fused together. Jackson stood with his body and mouth locked tight against hers. With a slow, sensuous turn and a few steps they fell backward onto the bed. Jackson rolled her over and stared deep into her eyes. “I don’t have any condoms,” he muttered hoarsely.

  “It’s okay,” she managed to say. “It’s not my fertile time of the month.”

  “Good.” His lips found hers again, then traveled moistly down her body, caressing, teasing erotic places. When he touched her intimately, she cried out. The pleasure was so great that for a moment she thought she’d pass out. Then Jackson parted her legs and entered her with a sureness that thrilled her.

  Her tight muscles enclosed him, and unabated gratification coursed through him. His quick thrusts brought Emily’s hips off the bed as she met his passion and demanded more. They weren’t teenagers experimenting with sex, they were adults with mature desires and compelling needs. As Emily soared to heights she had never reached before, she knew she loved him. She always had.

  Jackson exploded into so many pieces he thought he would die from the ecstasy of it. The young Emily had been timid and shy, but this Emily was a woman who completed him, who matched him in passion and in potential. Not that the young Emily hadn’t. It was just so…different now. So explosive.

  A long time later, Jackson raised his head from the hollow of her neck and gazed down at her, their sweaty bodies still welded together. “Wow” was all he could say.

  She smiled, a beautiful smile that touched his soul. “Have I improved?” she asked wickedly.

  “Yeah, and I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “Oh, Jackson.”

  He kissed her softly, gently, then pulled the sheet over them.

  “No regrets?” he had to ask as she drifted off to sleep.

  “No regrets,” she murmured, and she knew there never would be. No matter what the future held, she would cherish this moment.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE MORNING DAWNED bright and clear. Emily stirred and encountered a male body against hers. A smile spread across her face. Jackson. What a night! It was everything she’d remembered and so much more. He was exciting and considerate and knew how to touch her to make the blood sing in her veins. The smile disappeared as something occurred to her. She hadn’t told Jackson she loved him. Why? She should’ve, but then, he hadn’t said the words, either. He had to say them first. She didn’t know why she felt that way, but suspected it had something to do with the past and his not coming back when she needed him. And that feeling was embodied in fear—fear of getting hurt again. She had told Becca that Jackson wouldn’t hurt her and she believed it. So, why the doubts? She knew the answer. Their future relationship hinged on finding their daughter. If they didn’t, then… She didn’t want to think about that.

  She had decided she was going to experience life and, yes, love, and enjoy this time with Jackson, whatever happened.

  Jackson stretched and sat up. His blond hair was tousled and he had a growth of beard, yet he’d never looked more handsome. A warmth spread through her lower abdomen and all rational thought simply melted away.

  Jackson glanced at his watch. “My God, it’s almost nine o’clock.”

  “What?” That couldn’t be true. She never slept that late.

  He turned to look at her and his heart constricted with so many emotions. First among them was love. He loved her so much and he was afraid to tell her. He didn’t know why; he just couldn’t repeat the mistakes of the past. Years ago he hadn’t hesitated to express his feelings, but it was different now. So many things were standing in their way. But once they found their daughter and the past was resolved, he could tell her. That would make up for his desertion and earn her forgiveness. Was that how he felt? It must be or he would grab at everything he was seeing in her eyes. He wanted to experience last night all over again, but he vowed to take it slow. For her and for him.

  He crawled out of bed. “We’d better get dressed, have some breakfast and head over to the hospital.”

  A moment of loneliness engulfed her, but she watched unashamedly as he strolled naked into the bathroom. His body was beautiful, lean and muscled. He must work out, she thought idly, and it occurred to her that she knew very little about Jackson or his life. But she knew all she needed to know for now.

  She got out of bed and began her preparations for the day. In less than twenty minutes Jackson was ready, but it took her longer. While he waited, she heard him on the phone talking to his father and to his business partner. Again she envied that closeness with his father. Evidently Mr. Talbert was very curious about his granddaughter. He had a right to be, and Emily wondered if her daughter would ever know she had an extended family who wanted to love her.

  When Emily came out of the bathroom, Jackson caught his breath. She wore a sleeveless forest-green dress that clung to her. It had tiny pearl buttons down the front, and she’d placed pearl studs in her ears, which were hard to see because her shining hair was loose around her shoulders, but he noticed them. He noticed everything about her.

  He grinned. “It was worth the wait.”

  She slipped on the matching jacket and picked up her purse, trying to keep her pulse from racing. They had breakfast in the hotel, then drove to the hospital. It was the same cold, dark structure she remembered, and for the first time she realized how hard it would be to go back into that place.

  As if sensing her nervousness, Jackson took her hand as they entered the building and she couldn’t have loved him more.

  They were stonewalled at every attempt to gain access to the records—confidentiality, patients’ rights and so forth. She told them they were her records and she therefore had a right to see them. She was then informed she’d have to go through another office, sign release forms before anything could be done, but the woman who handled medical records was out and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Emily was so frustrated she wanted to scream. Then it hit her and she didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. She went straight to the hospital administrator, introduced herself and explained that she wanted to see her records. The administrator was cooperative; within minutes they were directed to a warehouse that housed old files. She had a release of information form in her hand, giving her access to her own medical records.

  Jackson was impressed with her efforts and determination. The warehouse was about two miles from the hospital, and soon they found themselves wad
ing through row upon row of patients’ files. The clerk showed them to the year they were looking for. They searched until Emily thought it was fruitless, and then—suddenly—she saw her name on a tab. As she removed the file, her hand began to tremble. Jackson took it from her. Emily peered over his arm as he read. All the facts were there: her name, date of birth, height, weight and medical information. Her eyes were riveted on the one fact her heart yearned to see—delivered baby girl; weight five pounds, one ounce; length, nineteen inches.

  “She was so small,” she murmured with a tremor in her voice. “I never knew she was so small. Oh, Jackson.”

  He closed the file and pulled her to him, kissing her hair. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

  “I can’t help it,” she sniffed. “She was so tiny, and she needed her mother.”

  He swallowed twice, trying to speak, but he felt her pain because it was his own.

  He drew back and looked into her sad eyes. “You can’t fall apart on me. We have a long way to go.” He was trying to be lighthearted, but they both recognized that nothing would ease the turmoil inside them.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s take this to a desk so we can read it more thoroughly.”

  They found a table and sat down, then read through the file several times, but there was no mention of an adoption or an agency.

  “That can’t be,” Emily cried. “There has to be more information.”

  Jackson motioned to the clerk and she walked over. She was a woman in her fifties with short graying hair and a stout body. “Could you help us with something, please?”

  “I’ll try.”

  Jackson pointed to the file. “Emily Ann Cooper gave birth to a baby girl and gave it up for adoption, but there’s no record of it here.”

  “There should be, but since the adoption was so long ago it might’ve been handled differently. Sometimes an adoption agency will have the information sealed to safeguard the child.”

  Safeguard the child. Safeguard the child. From whom? Me. She knew the answer immediately and Emily wanted to lash out so badly that she had to clench her hands into fists. There was no need to safeguard her child. A sob rose up in her throat and she had to remind herself that this woman had no idea what she was going through; it wasn’t her fault.

  “I see,” Jackson said. “That relieves the hospital of all liability.”

  “You got it,” the woman answered, and started back to her desk.

  “Wait a minute,” Emily called.

  The woman glanced back.

  “If the records were sealed, wouldn’t the fact that the baby was given up for adoption still be in the file?”

  “Yes, in most cases it is” was the response.

  Emily bit down on her lip to calm her agitated nerves, then asked, “Have you ever heard of a Miller agency or a Seals agency?”

  The woman shook her head and hurried off. That made Jackson suspicious. He had glimpsed something in her eyes that bothered him.

  They made copies of her file. Emily wanted to keep the information close to her. It might be all she ever had of her daughter.

  ON THEIR WAY OUT, Jackson stopped by the clerk’s desk. “Mind if I ask how long you’ve worked here?”

  “Over twenty years,” the woman replied.

  She would’ve been around when their daughter was born. Did she know something? He let it go—for the moment. “Thank you for your help,” he said as they walked away.

  In the car, Emily asked, “Why did you ask her that?”

  “She seemed rather nervous when you inquired about the adoption agencies.”

  “She did, didn’t she?” She tried to remember what the woman had said. She’d answered quickly and moved away without even giving the names any thought. Turning in her seat, she asked, “Could she possibly be hiding information?”

  “I’m not sure. We need to think about this and plan our next step.”

  “Oh, Jackson.” She leaned her head against the seat. “This is so frustrating. The name of the agency should have been there. I’ve worked in hospitals long enough to know that.”

  “Yes, it should,” he agreed, glancing at his watch.

  “Hey, it’s almost five o’clock. We’ve been at this all day and we haven’t even had lunch.”

  The noise in her stomach reminded her of that. The day had gone so quickly that she hadn’t thought about food—only about finding her daughter.

  Jackson parked the car in the hotel garage and they strolled over to the River Walk for a meal. Jackson noticed that, despite her hunger, Emily wasn’t eating. She was pushing her food around with her fork. The day’s events had been hard on her.

  He reached out and covered her hand with his own. “We’ll find her,” he said softly.

  “What if we don’t?” she asked, and couldn’t keep her voice from trembling. “What if the trail has been so thoroughly erased that we never know where she is?”

  He squeezed her hand. “It doesn’t matter. Because I won’t stop looking. Not ever.”

  She knew that. Jackson was as committed to this as she was. After all, he’d been the one who’d suggested doing what she hadn’t even dared to consider all these years, afraid to let herself think she could see her daughter. Now she’d gotten her hopes up and she was feeling a sense of disappointment at not being able to locate the information they needed.

  Jackson couldn’t stand to see her like this. He got to his feet and pulled her up. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  They strolled along one of the many walkways. It had grown dark, and a Tejano band was playing somewhere. The party atmosphere was infectious, but Emily couldn’t release the ache inside her.

  To her confusion, Jackson strolled out to a street and hailed a cab. Soon they were whizzing through the older streets of downtown San Antonio.

  “Where are we going?” she asked without much interest.

  “Just wait and see” was his reply.

  The cab stopped in front of a tall brick structure. Jackson took Emily’s hand and they walked through the swinging glass doors to the elevators. In a matter of seconds, they were on their way to the thirtieth floor, which turned out to be the roof. Emily caught her breath as she gazed out onto a spectacular view of San Antonio.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, not able to take her eyes off the lights that lit up the town.

  Jackson slid his arms around her waist from behind. “I started my business on the second floor of this building, and any time the pain of my mother’s death and my worries about all the debt I’d taken on got me down, I’d come up here and just enjoy the view. Staring at the vastness of all this made my problems seem insignificant, and after being up here, I could deal with my life a little better.”

  “And you thought this could help me cope, too?” She knew that was why he’d brought her here, to help her put what she was feeling in perspective. It had. Just the fact that he cared so much lifted her spirits immeasurably.

  “Is it working?” He nuzzled her neck, and lovely, tender emotions surrounded them.

  “Yes,” she said.

  They stood like that a long time, Jackson’s arms around her, her back against his chest….

  Gazing into the distance, she asked, “When you were up here, did you ever think of me?” For some reason, she had to have an answer.

  “Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “I used to wonder where Rockport was from here. I finally figured it had to be southeast.”

  “Did you think of coming back?”

  “As I told you, when I got home that was all I thought about. But my mother’s illness shattered everything inside me that was of any value. After that, I forgot about you and everything else. Gradually your memory seeped through the agony, but I still couldn’t function enough to do anything about it.”

  His words flowed over her and amazingly they didn’t hurt. They were the truth.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice filled with regret.

  “It’s all right. I jus
t had to ask.”

  He understood. She had a need to know if he’d used her without caring about her. “We came to Rockport that winter for a reason,” he said. “My mom had started chemo treatments and she didn’t want me to be there because they’d told her it would make her ill for a while. She wanted Dad to talk to me, to soften the news, but he saw how happy I was with you and he couldn’t do it.”

  She remembered his telling her that in the restaurant, and it raised another question. He’d already told her but she had to ask again. “Did you say you loved me so I’d have sex with you?”

  “God, no.” His arms tightened around her. “I loved you and I meant everything I said, but after watching my mother die in such pain, I couldn’t deal with anything, especially my feelings for you. I was practically out of my mind, crazy with grief. I wasn’t sure I was even going to survive.”

  Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t…

  She’d already asked him that question, too. She had to let it go. Her thoughts stopped suddenly as something occurred to her. If he had called and told her about his mother, what would she have done? At seventeen, she was not equipped to handle such a tragedy. She wouldn’t have known what to say or do…but she did now.

  She turned in the circle of his arms and held him tight. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

  “And I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you.”

  She nestled her head under his chin, letting his words heal so many wounds.

  He breathed in the fragrant scent of her hair and knew they’d reached a milestone—they were getting past forgiveness.

  He kissed her gently and whispered, “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  When they entered their room, they did the same as they had the night before. Jackson emptied his pockets, and she curled up on the sofa, rubbing her feet. Jackson sat down, too, and took over the task. He massaged her feet with slow stroking movements.