Emily's Daughter

by Linda Warren

  Jackson pointed to the Cooper house. The two men started toward it, then the second one turned back. “Come on, man, you can’t stay out here.”

  Jackson wasn’t listening. His eyes were focused on the tumultuous horizon. The wind rocked his body as he made his way to the shore. The two men tried to get him to the house, but eventually they gave up and ran for cover.

  Jackson watched the water as the waves crashed against shore. A small boat was perilous in this type of wind; even he knew that. He wondered who the storm would take first—Emily or Becca. A suffocating sensation burned his throat and he brushed away a tear, then another. The wind tugged and shook him, but he kept his eyes on the water. Finally the wind made him stagger and knocked him down. He struggled to stand, refusing to move from this spot where he had last seen Emily. But the wind was stronger than his will and it roared into him, blowing him to the sand. Again he stood. It was him against the wind—something he could fight, something he could vent all his rage on. The third time the wind took him down, he stayed on the cold, wet ground. Without them, without Emily and Becca, he didn’t have a reason to fight. The wind ripped and tore at him, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.

  THE WAVES SLAMMED into the boat and Emily feared it would capsize at any moment. The farther she went, the stronger the waves became. She was soaking wet and her body trembled, but she kept going. Relief filled her as she saw the shape of the island, then just as quickly that relief spiraled into agony. She could see an overturned boat being tossed on the water—her father’s boat. Where was Becca? Oh, God, where was Becca?

  She gassed the motor and jetted through a wave toward the shore with a whooshing, deafening sound. The impact jarred her from the seat to the bottom of the boat with a painful thud. Quickly collecting herself, she crawled from the boat. The high wind forced her backward and she had trouble standing. Through sheer willpower, she managed to stumble down the island shoreline. “Becca, Becca, Becca!” she screamed, but the wind took the name and threw it back in her face.

  The wind grabbed her body, too, and she felt herself going down, but she scrambled to her feet, mud coating her arms, legs and face. She tried to control her breathing and the fear exploding through her. “Becca, Becca, Becca!” she screamed again. Her voice caught as she saw a figure huddled farther down the beach.

  It was Becca. She was alive.

  Emily tried to regain her balance, but the wind was too strong. On her hands and knees she crawled until she reached her. With a muffled cry, like a wounded animal, Becca clutched at her and they held on tight. Thunder rumbled and lightning cracked as the storm broke in all its fury. Wind tore at their bodies and rain pelted their heads, but they remained locked in each other’s arms. Even when high waves threatened to engulf them, they didn’t move as a force stronger than nature bound them together.

  JACKSON SAT ON THE MUDDY BEACH, his knees drawn to his chin. The heavy rain flattened his hair against his scalp and mud caked his slacks and shirt. He had removed his jacket, but he couldn’t remember where or when and he didn’t care. His total attention was on the horizon as he mentally willed them to appear through the mist. He had finally found what he’d been searching for all his life—love, real love, and it had vanished before he’d had a chance to fully acknowledge it. Now he was an empty shell and he hated the storm, the circumstances and everything that had taken them from him. He thought he’d suffered when his mother died, but this…this was a pain he wouldn’t survive.

  “Sir? Sir?”

  Jackson heard the voice, but he didn’t respond. Then he felt someone touch his shoulder and he glanced up into the face of one of the Coast Guard officers. “The storm’s let up enough so we can go out now,” the man said.

  It took a moment for the words to sink in, then Jackson asked in a desolate voice, “Do you think it’ll do any good?”

  “I don’t know, but there’s always a chance.”

  A chance. A chance. A chance.

  The word propelled Jackson to his feet. If there was the tiniest possibility that they were alive, he would hang on to that. He had to. It was all he had left.

  “Let’s go, sir,” the man said as he saw the life come back into Jackson’s eyes.

  They walked down the pier and boarded the big white boat. Within minutes they were sailing over the waves, looking for a sign of life.

  WHEN THE RAIN STOPPED and the wind released its hold, Becca asked, “Is it true, Em? Is it true?”

  From the tone of her voice, Emily knew that Becca didn’t hate her. That was more than she’d hoped for…more than she had a right to expect. She smoothed the wet hair away from Becca’s face. “Yes,” she said, with tears in her voice.

  “But…how?”

  Emily swallowed the lump in her throat. “My sister, Rebecca, died July 19 and evidently Mom decided to raise you as her own.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “I haven’t heard the whole story, yet, but we will…together.”

  Becca pulled back and wiped a tear from her mud stained face. “You’re my mother…my real mother,” she said. Her eyes grew enormous. “When we were talking in my room about your daughter and you were sad because you’d never seen her face, I said you could always look at me. And it was me. It was me.”

  Emily nodded, unable to speak at the pain in Becca’s voice.

  “How could she do that to us? I hate her.”

  Emily realized that hatred could consume her, but she knew she had to reject that destructive emotion. They’d been hurt enough, and now they had to find a common ground between hatred and love. For Becca’s sake, Emily had no other choice.

  “We have to talk to her—try to understand why she did it.”

  “I’ll never understand and I’m not going back. You can’t make me,” Becca said defiantly.

  Emily held Becca’s chin in one hand. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to see your precious face? An eternity—and I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want.”

  Before Becca could answer, a Coast Guard boat emerged through the mist. As it reached land, Emily saw Jackson jump out and run along the beach toward them and her heart filled with so much love.

  Jackson fell down beside them and his arms encircled their two bodies. “You’re alive! Thank God, you’re alive,” he cried.

  “Yes,” Emily whispered, one arm around Jackson, the other around Becca. After that, no one spoke. All they needed now was to touch and be with each other. The men from the Coast Guard stood a distance away, hesitant to intrude on this moment.

  Finally the older man asked, “Does anyone need medical attention?”

  Jackson glanced at Emily and she shook her head, then he stared into the dark eyes of his daughter. Becca also shook her head, but Jackson hardly noticed. This was his daughter. He had guessed it when he’d seen the documents. He had hoped it when he’d danced with her. And he’d grieved for her on the beach, when he thought he’d lost her. But this was the first time he allowed himself to feel the joy of knowing she was really his.

  As if sensing his thoughts, Becca asked, “Are you truly my father?”

  Jackson swallowed and admitted in an unsteady voice, “Yes…yes, I am.”

  “I don’t even know you.”

  Jackson gently touched her soft cheek. “But you will,” he promised.

  Emily rested her wet head on Jackson’s shoulder, and the three of them sat there savoring this moment and feeling a connection that had always been there but was now brought to light, no longer hidden from them.

  “Does anyone need medical attention?” the man called again.

  Jackson smiled slightly. “I think he’s trying to get our attention.” He looked over his shoulder. “We’re fine,” he called, then turned back to them. “We’d better go. They’re getting antsy.”

  But they didn’t move, each reluctant to end this time, this first time, that they were together as a family. Slowly Jackson got to his feet and offered a hand to each o
f them. Becca jumped right up, but Emily staggered for a second.

  “Are you okay?” Jackson asked anxiously.

  “I’m just sore, that’s all,” she said. The hip she’d fallen on when she’d jetted into shore was probably bruised, but the pain was nothing compared to the joy unfurling in her heart.

  As they walked toward the boat, Emily wished that joy would last forever, but she knew they had a lot to resolve in the days ahead. She had to talk to Rose and learn how she’d accomplished the whole thing. Emily wasn’t sure how she felt about it…that would come later. And Becca—she had to ask her forgiveness and prayed they could build a future stronger and better than the past…with Jackson. Somehow they had to pull their lives together and survive this nightmare.

  The men hooked Owen’s boat to the bigger boat, so they could carry it back to the docks. Emily knew her father wouldn’t be too pleased about losing his other boat, although the men assured her they would search for it and bring it back. In all likelihood it would be unsalvageable. That didn’t worry Emily at the moment; she couldn’t dredge up any concern for her parents’ feelings. However, she had no intention of letting bitterness and anger control their lives. She had Becca to think about. She had waited eighteen years to have her daughter and nothing would destroy that relationship. It was a vow she made to herself.

  They sat together in the boat as they sailed toward home. They were wet, dirty and tired, yet complete in a way Emily couldn’t explain. She would remember this for the rest of her life. It was crazy, but she felt as if she’d just given birth to Becca and they were taking her home to a new beginning…a new life.

  WHEN THEY REACHED THE DOCKS, they thanked the Coast Guard officers and headed for the house. Jackson drove Becca’s car to safety, and Emily and Becca walked arm in arm. As they entered the house the silence became strained and awkward.

  They stood, irresolute, in the kitchen, and Emily finally spoke. “Well, I think the first order of business is to get cleaned up.”

  “Yeah.” Becca frowned at her wet and dirty dress. “My beautiful prom dress is ruined. Everything’s ruined,” she muttered hurtfully.

  “Becca—”

  “If you don’t mind,” Becca interrupted. “I’ll take the bathroom first.”

  “No, go ahead,” Emily said, and watched with a heavy heart as Becca disappeared down the hall.

  Jackson gathered Emily into his arms and held her tight. She rested heavily against him, needing his warmth and comfort more than she’d ever needed anything.

  “Becca is our daughter,” she murmured into his chest. “I keep saying that to myself over and over, and it makes me scared…so scared.”

  He pulled back to look into her eyes. “Why? Why does it do that?”

  “Because Becca and I have this great relationship as sisters, but now that’s going to change. I hope it’s for the better, but I have this uneasy feeling.”

  “Yes, things are going to change and together we’ll make it better.”

  “Oh, Jackson.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Right now I’m somewhere out in limbo and I hardly know what I’m feeling, but I just can’t imagine… I can’t even fathom why my mother would do this to me. She knew how much I wanted to keep my baby and then to…” She couldn’t go on as overpowering emotions threatened her composure.

  He kissed the side of her face. “We’ll talk to your mother, find out all the details. Then we’ll plan a future as a family—that’s what I want most of all.”

  Emily grew stiff in his arms and fear tugged at his heart. “We have to take it slow,” she said, taking a step back. He felt empty and lost and he couldn’t explain it, but he sensed Emily distancing herself from him. That was stupid, he told himself. Emotions were running high and he was just misreading the signals.

  But her next words didn’t ease the feeling. “This is going to be very hard on Becca. I need some time with her so we can adjust to the new situation.”

  Jackson didn’t miss that she’d left him out of this “situation” and he wondered if she had any plans for him in her future.

  Before he could ask, Becca came into the kitchen wearing a bathrobe. “Your turn, Em,” she said, then walked to her room without even glancing at him. The emptiness grew.

  “I’ll go to the hotel and change,” Jackson said before his fears could completely defeat him. “I’ll be back soon, and we can all go talk to your mother.” With that, he walked to the door, not giving her a chance to object. He had to be part of their lives. God, he hoped she felt the same way.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  EMILY DIDN’T HAVE an opportunity to talk to Becca before Jackson was back. She was worried because Becca was acting sullen and defiant, so unlike herself. On the drive to the hospital she was quiet and that bothered Emily, too. Becca was always talking about anything and everything, but now she didn’t have a word to say. The traumatic revelation had affected them all and she hoped Jackson wasn’t going to rush things. She had to make him see that they had to move slowly.

  When they arrived at the hospital, she didn’t have time for further introspection. Outside the room Becca held back.

  “I don’t see why I have to be here,” she said in a petulant voice.

  Emily put an arm around her shoulders. Becca had on jeans and a T-shirt and hadn’t bothered to even brush her hair. It hung in disarray down her back. She looked like a bad-tempered little girl who couldn’t get her way.

  “I told you I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to,” Emily said softly, and Jackson admired her control and compassion. “So if you’d rather not be here, you don’t have to, but I thought you’d like to hear how our lives got so messed up.” Becca didn’t respond, so she went on. “We have to find a bridge from the past to the future, and we have to do that without resentment and anger. It’s hard, I know, because I personally want to break something, but for our family’s sake I have to be strong and forgiving. That’s the only way we can survive.”

  Becca shuffled her feet. “Okay, but I’m not talking to her.”

  Emily glanced at Jackson and she was glad he was letting her handle this. She knew it was taking all his restraint not to say something. “Fine,” she answered. “You do whatever you feel is right for you.”

  Emily took a deep breath and they entered the room. Owen jumped up. “Thank God, you’re okay. We were so worried with the storm and all.” His eyes settled on Becca. “Are you okay, Rebecca?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just great,” she flung out, in that sullen voice she’d assumed. “I just discovered my mother is really my grandmother and my sister is really my mother. On a scale of one to ten, I’m hanging in at zero.”

  Jackson could see his daughter was about to fall apart. He’d thought she had her emotions under control, but clearly she didn’t. He suddenly saw what Emily was talking about. They couldn’t rush her. She was already overwhelmed. He felt selfish because he’d been thinking about himself, his feelings and a future she wasn’t ready for. Instead, he had to be a father now—a real father—and help his daughter.

  He reached down and took her hand. It trembled like a lost leaf in the wind in his. He was prepared for her to jerk or pull away, but she didn’t. She seemed to need his strength and that gave him a good feeling. He led her to the chairs not far from the bed. He sat and she eased down beside him.

  Emily saw that Jackson was managing Becca and she felt amazed at how naturally the girl responded to him. But then, he was her father and…

  She couldn’t think about that just now. She had to concentrate on her mother and finding out the truth. Walking to her bedside, she tried to find the right words, but decided there were no right words. “Why did you take my baby?” came out of its own accord.

  Rose pleated the top of her sheet with nervous fingers. “I told you to leave it alone, Emily Ann. Why couldn’t you do that?”

  Emily bit her tongue and knew Rose wasn’t going to make this easy. “Because I lost my child, a part of mys
elf, and I could never leave that alone. It was always there in my heart, an ache, a pain that wouldn’t go away. I needed to know if she was happy, healthy, and most of all I had to see her face.”

  Rose didn’t say a word or look up. She kept twisting the sheet.

  “Tell me why you decided to take my baby,” Emily said again.

  Still Rose didn’t respond. Owen, who was standing on the other side of the bed, touched Rose’s shoulder. “Stop being so proud and stubborn, and tell her what happened.”

  Tears fell down Rose’s cheeks and she slowly began to speak. “When I was forty and I first discovered I was pregnant, I was angry. I didn’t want another child. I had a grown daughter and the thought of raising a baby at my age was ludicrous. But I couldn’t escape the truth. When you found out, you became rebellious and I hated the baby even more. My perfect daughter was someone I didn’t know. You wouldn’t listen to me anymore and when he came on the scene, everything went from bad to worse. I knew you were sleeping with him and I was powerless to stop it.” She paused. “When he left, I was relieved and I hoped we could get our lives back to normal. But I started having problems with my pregnancy and I thought God was punishing me for not wanting the baby. Then I realized you were pregnant and I was filled with rage. I didn’t want what had happened to me to happen to you. I’d raised you differently.”

  Emily frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “When I was seventeen, I got pregnant in high school, just like you did, and the boy wanted nothing to do with me or the baby. I didn’t know what to do. Owen and I were good friends and when I told him, he offered to marry me.”

  A gasp left Emily’s lips. Did that mean— Oh, God, she couldn’t take a shocking revelation like that on top of everything else.

  Rose sensed her trepidation. “Don’t worry, Emily Ann, Owen is your father. My little boy was stillborn. You were born several years later.”

  Emily let out a sigh of relief and suddenly realized what Becca was going through. Finding out you’re not the person you thought you were could be devastating. She would talk to Becca about that later. Now she focused on her mother’s words. “I insisted you give the baby up for adoption because you had this brilliant future ahead of you and I didn’t want you to lose that. Ever since you were a little girl, you wanted to be a doctor, and I knew if you had the baby, your dreams would be ruined. And I was angry with you for being as stupid as I was. Maybe I wanted to punish you. I’m not sure. All I know is that I thought I was doing the best thing for you.”