Emily's Daughter

by Linda Warren

  “Come this way,” she said, and led him into an inner office. She walked to a credenza and picked up several brochures. “These pamphlets will answer all your questions.” She held them out to him. “Is it a daughter or a friend?”

  Jackson blinked in confusion; then he understood. She had assumed he was interested in the home for a family member. He shook his head. “No, no, you misunderstood me.”

  Her eyes widened. “I have?”

  “Yes, I need information on an adoption that took place almost eighteen years ago.”

  The woman bristled. “I’m sorry. We don’t divulge that kind of information.”

  “It’s important. I have to find my daughter.”

  “I’m sorry, but the girls and the babies are our top priority. We do everything we can to ensure their privacy.”

  Jackson inhaled deeply, trying to think of a way to reach this woman. “Can you just tell me if the adoption took place? That’s all I need to know. Surely that wouldn’t compromise anyone’s privacy.”

  “No, all information is private and confidential.” The answer came quick and sharp.

  “I could get a court order.”

  “Go ahead,” she replied, unconcerned. “Our lawyers have blocked those before. Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.” With that, she turned and took a seat at a desk, her back to him.

  Jackson was trying not to let his anger or frustration get the better of him when he noticed a young girl standing by a filing cabinet. She wasn’t pregnant; that was the first thing he noticed. The second was that her clothes were tight and revealing, her hair bleached blond. She was chewing gum. All of a sudden she winked and smiled.

  Disconcerted, he left the office. All the way to his car he thought about the odd incident. He didn’t immediately know why he was so taken aback, but then he did. The girl was obviously flirting, and he’d been there, done that before, but never with a girl young enough to be his daughter. That was what threw him and he wondered if his daughter might be promiscuous. God, he hoped not.

  He sat in his car for a long time, thinking, and finally decided he could use this flirtation to his advantage. The older woman wasn’t letting him anywhere near the records, but the young girl might. Yes, she just might.

  He waited the rest of the afternoon. The girl came out at five o’clock. She hopped into a pickup truck with a young man at the wheel. As they drove away, Jackson continued to watch for the older woman. By seven, he realized she probably lived on the premises. With a deep sigh, he started his car. He’d be back tomorrow. The woman had to leave sometime and when she did, he’d have a talk with the girl.

  As he entered his hotel room, the phone was ringing, and he lunged for it. “Hello,” he said, out of breath.

  “Jackson?” Emily’s voice came through soft and vibrant just as if she was in the room. He felt a soothing, warm sensation and lay back on the bed, letting that feeling ease away the frustrations of the day. This was what he needed. Emily.

  “Jackson, are you there?” A worried tone entered her voice.

  “Yes, I’m here,” he answered. “How are you? How’s your mom?”

  “I’m fine, just feeling frustrated because I can’t be with you.”

  He knew what that felt like.

  “Mom is stable. They have her on oxygen and an IV and they’ve increased her heart medication.” Emily was talking and he forced himself to listen to what she was saying instead of the tone of her voice. “Becca says she didn’t eat or drink much of anything since I left and she’s dehydrated. She brings all this on herself and I just…”

  He heard the pain in her voice and he wanted to hold her, be with her, but could only try to reassure her. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll get better, and I’m doing some checking on my own.”

  “Have you found anything?” she asked eagerly.

  He paused, not wanting to tell her about the accusations of that awful woman at the records department. He’d tell her later when they were together and could sort through the inconsistencies. But he did tell her the other news. “I found the adoption agency.”

  There was silence for a second, then she asked in a shaky voice, “Oh Jackson, are you sure?” In that instant, if there’d been any doubts in his head, they vanished. Emily wasn’t lying to him. She was as anxious to find their daughter as he was.

  “Yes, but it’s not Miller or Seals. It’s the Miller Steels Agency.”

  “How did you figure it out?”

  “The woman at the records office told me.”

  “But yesterday she said—”

  He broke in. “Today she was a little more cooperative.”

  “How did you accomplish that?”

  “I’ll tell you later.” Among other things. “I went over to the agency, which is now called The Haven, but they wouldn’t tell me a thing. I’m not giving up, though. I intend to get some answers.”

  “Oh, I miss you.” Longing filled every word.

  “When can you come back?”

  “I don’t know. Becca’s upset. She’s afraid Mom’s going to die and that it’s her fault. And she has the prom on Saturday and I feel I need to be here for her, since Mom’s in the hospital. But, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I want to be with you.” The longing was so intense that all he wanted to do was comfort her.

  “Just take care of your family and I’ll take care of things here.”

  “Jackson.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Promise if you find out where she is, you won’t go there without me. Promise you won’t do anything without me.”

  He swallowed. “I won’t.”

  “I’ve waited so long to even hope and now…now…”

  “We’ll find her.”

  “You keep saying that, and I’m beginning to believe you.”

  “Oh, Emily.” He rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. “This bed is gonna be awful lonely tonight.” He paused. “Just keep talking to me.”

  He could feel her smile. “I don’t think talking will be quite the same thing.”

  “You’re right about that.” His face split into a grin. Oh, he missed her, needed her. No one, not that crazy records lady or anyone else, could make him have doubts about her. He’d done that once, when she’d first told him about their daughter. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  They talked for a while longer, each reluctant to hang up. Later Jackson ordered room service. He didn’t feel like dining without her.

  AS EMILY HUNG UP the phone, Becca strolled into the kitchen. They’d just gotten back from the hospital. Tommy had driven behind them, and Becca had stayed outside to talk to him. They were making plans for the prom. Shortly after, Tommy drove home and Becca joined Emily in the kitchen.

  “Can we have pizza tonight?” Becca asked, getting a soda out of the fridge.

  “No, we’re not having pizza,” Emily answered.

  “Jeez, sometimes you’re just like Mom,” Becca complained. “Ginger’s mom has pizza all the time, so I don’t see why we can’t have it once in a while.”

  “Ginger mom is—” Emily stopped, realizing she’d been about to criticize Ginger’s mom—something her mother did on a regular basis. Maybe she was like her mother. No, she would never be.

  “Okay, we’ll have pizza,” she decided in a flash.

  “Oh, Em, you’re the greatest.” Becca beamed, and sat across from Emily at the kitchen table, sipping her drink. After a moment, she asked, “Were you talking to him when I walked in?”

  “Yes, I was talking to Jackson.”

  “I’ll bet he’s mad ’cause you had to come home.”

  “No, Jackson is very considerate. He understands that I need to be with my family right now.”

  “’Cause Mom’s sick.” Becca fiddled with her drink and Emily knew what she was thinking.

  “Becca, you’re not the reason Mom is sick. You know that, don’t you?”

  Becca didn’t look up. “It’s har
d to think anything else because she tells me that all the time.”

  “Oh, Becca.” Emily got up and hugged her. “Mom had a heart condition before you were born.”

  “Yes.” Becca sniffed. “But I make it worse. I’m always upsetting her.”

  “So am I, but we can’t keep blaming ourselves.”

  “I suppose.” Becca sniffed again, then became quiet. “Em?”

  “What?”

  “She’s not going to die, is she?”

  “No, I don’t think this is Mom’s time to die. She’ll be home soon and things will be back to normal.”

  “I hope so.” Silence for a moment, then Becca asked, “When will you be going to see…him?”

  Emily had noticed that she never said Jackson’s name and wondered why. “His name is Jackson.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” she mumbled.

  Emily frowned, not understanding this attitude. “You’ve never met Jackson. Why don’t you like him?”

  “I don’t like what he did to you—getting you pregnant and then leaving.”

  Emily cupped Becca’s face and tilted her head so she could meet her eyes. “He didn’t know I was pregnant and he had no reason to think that I was. We used protection, but it didn’t work. Please don’t judge Jackson until you get to know him. I guarantee you’re going to like him. He’ll spoil you rotten just like I do.”

  “No, he won’t,” Becca said in a hurt voice. “He’ll find your daughter and then you won’t be interested in me anymore. You’ll have her.”

  “Becca, Becca.” Emily sighed, tucking Becca’s hair behind her ears. She was jealous, plain and simple. She didn’t want anyone to take her place in Emily’s life. “You’re my baby sister and the light in my otherwise dreary world. That’ll never change—even if we find our daughter. She’ll be almost eighteen and have her own family, but I need to see her. I have to know she’s happy. Even then, I’ll only be her biological mother—the woman who gave her away.”

  Becca’s eyes grew stormy. “She’d better not ever say that to you. I’ll slap her face.”

  Emily remembered her saying similar things about Jackson and knew that Becca just didn’t want her to be hurt. She was fiercely protective, just as Emily was toward her. Despite the difference in their ages, they had a close bond.

  Emily smiled into her eyes. “No, you won’t. If we find her, you’re going to love her as much as we do and you’ll have a lot in common, being so close in age and all.” Emily’s voice grew dreamy. “She probably has Jackson’s green eyes and my dark hair and a feisty in-your-face attitude, just like you.”

  Becca watched Emily’s enraptured expression. “You really love her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Emily blinked back tears. “It’s a mother thing, but it’ll never affect the way I feel about you.”

  They embraced. “I know,” Becca mumbled into her shoulder. “I’m just being a jerk.”

  Emily kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry about it. Now, let’s order that pizza so we can go back to the hospital.” Emily walked to the phone.

  “Em?”

  “Hmm?”

  “When I called you, he—I mean, Jackson answered the phone. Were you sleeping together?”

  Emily stopped in her tracks. How did she explain this? With the truth, she immediately decided. She turned to face Becca. “I’ve loved Jackson since I was seventeen and I still do. We’re adults, and we know what we’re doing and what we want.”

  Becca flushed. “What’s it like—sex, I mean?”

  Emily thought about her answer, wanting to be truthful, yet cautious. “It can be the most wonderful, fulfilling experience if it’s with someone you love. Otherwise, it’s just a physical act.”

  “All my friends are having sex. I feel like an outcast.”

  “When you’re ready, you’ll know, and it won’t have anything to do with your friends or anyone except the man you love.”

  “Jeez, you make it sound so special.”

  “It will be. Just be sure to use protection.”

  Becca nodded and Emily was glad Becca could talk to her. She knew Becca couldn’t discuss sex or much of anything with their mother. She hoped her own daughter had someone to talk to, someone patient and understanding.

  It struck her suddenly—her own daughter could be having sex. She could already be pregnant, could even have a child. She didn’t know anything about her, so she had to prepare herself for anything. Her daughter was a grown woman, and for an instant, Emily was paralyzed by the immensity of it all.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EMILY WAS RELIEVED Jackson had found the adoption agency. That meant she didn’t have to talk to Rose about it. She’d planned on doing it as soon as she reached the hospital, but after seeing her mother’s condition, she’d changed her mind. Much as she wanted to find her daughter, she couldn’t endanger Rose’s health.

  They left Rose resting comfortably. Emily’s presence seemed to bolster her spirits and Emily knew why: Rose assumed she’d given up on the idea of finding her daughter. Emily didn’t tell her otherwise. She didn’t see the point; it would only upset her. Emily decided that what she did from now on would be her business. Her mother need not be involved. She and Jackson would find their daughter together…without interference from anyone.

  That night, Emily lay curled up in bed, wishing Jackson’s strong arms were around her and his hard body was against hers. That was all it was—wishful thinking. She had to stay with her family, and Jackson was busy gathering information in San Antonio. They’d be together soon but even that thought didn’t ease the ache inside her—the ache of wanting his love.

  JACKSON TOSSED AND TURNED. He knew the sheets had been changed, but he could smell Emily’s scent, feel her presence, until the hunger in him grew to gigantic proportions. Unable to stand the torment, he got up and grabbed his laptop, determined to get his mind on other things. He went straight to the Internet, searching for information on the Miller Steels Agency and The Haven. At 2:00 a.m. he fell exhausted into bed, his head reeling from a profusion of facts, but he still didn’t know if the agency had handled his daughter’s adoption. The gray-haired lady at The Haven was named Mable Hale, and she was the director. The agency was known for legitimate adoptions and for the care and welfare of mothers and babies. That wasn’t the information he was looking for, but it gave him an insight into the kind of place he was dealing with.

  When Jackson woke up, he called Colton to check on things at the office. Everything was fine, so he showered and dressed and had breakfast, then headed for The Haven. He waited across the street…waited for the gray-haired lady to come out so he could talk to the young girl. Wearing sunglasses, he hoped Ms. Hale wouldn’t recognize him if she just happened to notice him outside. Periodically he climbed out of the car to stretch his legs, walking no farther than the next intersection, all the while keeping his eyes on The Haven. He felt lunchtime was his best bet, but by two o’clock that hope faded. He strolled to a take-out place down the street and bought a hamburger and a malt, then he went back to his car and waited. A little after five, the young girl came out and got into the truck again. He was frustrated by his wasted day, but he wasn’t giving up. Clearly the older woman didn’t leave the building unless absolutely necessary.

  He drove back to his hotel and logged on to the Internet. He wanted to find out everything he could about Mable Hale. The woman’s whole life was the agency and the girls, which didn’t leave him many options.

  Later he talked to Emily; he hated to tell her he hadn’t found a thing, but she understood. They both knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

  The next morning Jackson drove to the agency and waited again. At three o’clock he was still waiting. He would wait forever if he had to. Mable Hale had to shop or keep appointments or perform some other sort of normal activity. And when she did…

  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of sirens, which grew closer and closer. An ambulance pulled into the parking lot and parked at the rea
r of the building. Starting his car, Jackson drove nearer to see what was happening. The paramedics jumped out and wheeled a stretcher through the back entrance. In less than a minute they rolled a pregnant girl onto the ambulance. Ms. Hale was right behind them and she got into the vehicle with the girl.

  Thank you, thank you, resounded in his head. This was what he’d been waiting for. Ms. Hale would be gone for a while. When the ambulance entered traffic, sirens blaring, Jackson walked quickly to the front door.

  As he hurried inside, he saw the blonde sitting at the desk. Yes, things were going his way.

  The girl looked up and smiled. “Hey, you’re back.” She stood and sashayed to the counter. She was chewing gum again and wore a black miniskirt and a red tank top; her makeup was heavy and huge silver earrings dangled from her ears. She couldn’t be more than eighteen.

  He smiled his best smile. “Is Ms. Hale around?” he asked, just by way of conversation.

  Smacking on the gum, she said, “Bridget’s having her baby and she’s scared, so Ms. Hale went with her to the hospital. Won’t be back until later.”

  “Doesn’t matter, I can talk to you.”

  “Okay.” She giggled and chewed on the gum at such a fast rate it made him dizzy. “I was hoping you’d come back. We don’t get many handsome guys like you in here.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I think I’m too old for you.”

  She shrugged. “What’s age? My boyfriend’s only four years older than me and sometimes he uses me as a punching bag. Older guys are nicer.”

  Jackson’s eyes darkened. “You stay with a guy who hits you?”

  “It’s better than living on the streets, and he just does it when he’s drinking.”

  “That’s not a reason, it’s an excuse, and you shouldn’t stay with anyone who abuses you.” Jackson could hear the censure in his voice and he had to back off, but it infuriated him that she didn’t have more self-respect. There were probably a lot of girls like her, though, needing a home and willing to put up with anything in order to have a roof over their heads—maybe his own daughter. Oh, God, no, he prayed and fervently hoped she had morals and values and respect for herself.