Alcohol. He smelled it when she moved in closer. “Why are you here?”
“Do you really think I would stay away? You know me better than that.” She stumbled and reached for a nearby table.
Had she been the one calling? He’d had a suspicion that was the case. “Why all of the calls?”
Her eyes turned toward the floor. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“So, why didn’t you?”
“I was afraid—”
“Of what?”
Taylor studied him with glazed eyes. “I was scared you wouldn’t want to talk to me.” She paused. “I want us to get back together.”
Jackson ran his hand across his face in disbelief. “You what?”
“Wilson and I are finished. I want to give our marriage another try.”
She was talking crazy, and he’d heard enough. He wanted her gone. “I can tell you’ve been drinking, and I assume you were when you called obsessively. I need you to leave before any customers arrive.”
“Are you worried about the customers or your little rich girlfriend?” She pursed her painted cherry Popsicle lips.
“Girlfriend?”
“Don’t deny it, Jackson. I’ve seen you getting cozy with that woman.” She stumbled again. “If you think she’s going to take my place as Rebecca’s mother, you’re mistaken.”
This was crazy. What was she doing here? Had she been following him? His face burned. “Mother? You call yourself a mother? You left your own daughter when she was only a year old. What kind of person does that?”
“I was messed up, Jackson.” She dropped her purse on the ground. Its contents went flying.
“Oh, and now you’re fine? I can smell the alcohol on your breath. It’s ten in the morning, Taylor. You need to get some help. There’s an excellent rehab program in Smithfield. I know the director. I could get you admitted.”
“I’m sure you want nothing more than to lock me away for a few months. Then you and your little girlfriend can brainwash my daughter against me.” She held up her arms. “There’s no way I’m going into rehab.” She glared.
He balled his hands into fists. “Fine. Let me call you a cab. You’re in no condition to drive.”
“I don’t need one,” she announced, stumbling on her heels.
“Then I’m going to call the police.”
She staggered closer to Jackson and placed her finger on his chest. “I’m not leaving until I see my daughter.”
Memories from the last time he’d seen her raced through his mind. The day she’d walked out with his best friend, Wilson. Four years later, she was no different. Her breath was foul and her eyes like red marbles. There was no way he’d let her anywhere near Rebecca.
“Please wait outside—I’ll call the cab company,” Jackson said. He turned to walk her toward the door.
Before he knew what was happening, she threw her arms around him and gave him a slobbering kiss.
“Get out of here, now!” Jackson pushed her away and she lost her footing, nearly falling onto the floor.
“I’m going to see my daughter if it’s the last thing I do. You can’t keep me from her.”
Jackson watched, shaking his head. She stumbled out the door, leaving her lipstick on the floor. As he walked to the kitchen to grab his phone, tires screeched outside. He grabbed the cell and tore to the front door. She was gone. His hands shook as he dialed the sheriff’s office.
* * *
Melanie’s heart was broken. When she’d seen Jackson kissing a tall brunette, she’d dropped the box of menus and raced toward her car.
The woman’s back had been to the door, but Melanie saw that Jackson was still in her arms before she’d sprinted to her car and yanked open the door.
Now inside, she wept. She wanted to hit Rewind. Erase all of the happy moments she’d experienced the last several days. It was easier to go back into her shell. She’d be safe there, where no one could hurt her. She took notice of the time and placed the key into the ignition. She no longer needed a new outfit for tonight, but she wouldn’t leave her aunt’s friend waiting.
Melanie stared straight ahead, navigating the mountain curves. Thoughts of Rebecca filled her mind. She longed to call that sweet little girl her daughter, and to have her riding in the backseat of her car. It would probably never happen.
Up ahead, she spotted the sign for the boutique and hit the turn signal. The last thing in the world she wanted to do right now was shop. She’d do it for Aunt Phoebe.
Still numb from the shock of seeing Jackson with another woman, Melanie gripped the cold doorknob to the boutique and stepped inside. The air smelled of sweet strawberries.
A petite gray-haired woman dressed in a red suit and red flats scurried over, carrying an armful of clothes. “Welcome.”
Melanie took notice of her name tag. “Hello, Estelle. I’m Melanie, Phoebe’s niece.”
She smiled wide. “Oh yes, I’ve been expecting you. I feel like I already know you. Phoebe’s so proud of you.”
Melanie’s heart warmed. This town was smaller than she’d thought. Even the owner of the local dress shop knew her, or thought she did. Sweet little Estelle was clueless about the selfish decision she’d made that had cost her everything.
“I’m going to hang up these clothes that were left in the dressing room. Why don’t you look around for a while, and then we’ll find you the perfect outfit.”
She couldn’t find it in her heart to tell Estelle she didn’t need a new outfit after all. “Thank you, Estelle. I’ll be fine.”
Ten minutes later, Estelle was fingering through a rack of dress pants while Melanie continued browsing the casual dresses. She caught the eye of a woman who quickly moved behind a mannequin displaying a black fur jacket. Melanie looked away and continued her search. Minutes later, she discreetly glanced in the woman’s direction, and their eyes locked. Melanie’s breath hitched. It was the odd woman from The Bean, and the one who’d shown up at Rebecca’s school.
Anxious to escape the stranger’s presence, Melanie snatched three dresses, all sheaths but in different colors, and headed to the dressing room. She turned at the sound of clicking heels behind her.
“Jackson loves women in red,” the tall, dark-haired woman with wild curls said in a whisper.
Curls. It clicked. She was the woman Jackson was kissing earlier. She hadn’t seen her face, but she recognized the raven hair. She tightened her grip on the hangers.
“Can’t you speak?”
Melanie lifted a single brow. “Excuse me?”
The woman stepped closer. “I said Jackson loves a woman in red.” She ran her hands down her dark leather pants. “You should go with the red dress.”
Her skin chilled when the woman stepped into her personal space. Was that alcohol she smelled? This woman wasn’t Jackson’s type. Melanie stepped back and bumped into one of the club chairs that lined the wall. She rubbed her leg and looked up. “Do I know you?”
Her face was stone. “I’m Rebecca’s mother, Taylor.” She shook her curls away from her face. “I thought it was about time I met the woman who’s been spending so much time with my daughter.”
Melanie’s chin dipped. “Why are you here?”
Taylor placed her hand on her hip and pressed her thin lips together. “I’ve been here for a while. Jackson knows.” She pulled a compact from her purse and admired her reflection. “He didn’t tell you?”
Melanie’s heart skipped a beat. Was Taylor the one who’d been calling obsessively? Why wouldn’t Jackson mention she was back in town?
“So, I guess he didn’t tell you,” she said with a smirk. “I suppose he also didn’t tell you we plan to reconcile.” She reached out and yanked the red dress from Melanie’s hand. “There’s no need to try this on after all, is there?”
“Are you okay? You look pale.” Taylor draped a limp hand on Melanie’s shoulder.
Melanie stumbled when she turned to make a quick escape into the dressing room. She slammed the door and turned the lock. At least behind the door, she wouldn’t have to look at Taylor. Was Jackson still in love with her?
Following a knock on the dressing-room door, Taylor left with one last message. “Stay away from my daughter and my husband.”
Her heels clicked and she was gone. “Ex-husband,” Melanie said to her own reflection in the mirror and dropped to the floor and cried.
* * *
“You smell good, Daddy, like a Christmas tree.”
Showered, shaved and dressed in khaki pants and a crisp white collared shirt, Jackson was nervous about his date with Melanie. After his conversation with the sheriff, his mind had eased about Taylor, and the excitement about spending an evening with Melanie returned, but so did the first-date jitters. “Thank you.” Jackson glanced into the mirror. “Do you think my outfit is okay?”
Rebecca giggled and pounced up onto the bed. “Why does your outfit have to be okay? You’re just going out to eat?” She nuzzled her face into Gigi.
“Well, I like Miss Melanie, and I want to look nice for her.”
“I like her, too, Daddy.” She flung herself back against the pillows and stared at the coffered ceiling. “Do you think she likes us?”
“Of course she does. Why wouldn’t she?”
Rebecca placed her hands behind her head and wiggled her sock feet. “Well, Mary told me sometimes ladies don’t like men who already have kids. They want their own kids, not somebody else’s.”
Jackson’s stomach flinched. Maybe they don’t want a crazy ex-wife in the picture, either. “I think Miss Melanie likes you just fine, so quit worrying, and don’t believe everything your friends tell you.”
“Where are you and Miss Melanie going?”
He poured a splash of aftershave into his hand and patted his cheeks. “We’re going to the Italian place with the spaghetti and meatballs you like so much.”
She jumped up and bounced on the bed. “The dark place?”
Jackson laughed. The restaurant wasn’t exactly dark, but the lighting was set to create a romantic atmosphere. It was the main reason he’d decided to take Melanie there. Despite the unexpected arrival of Taylor, he hoped to plant the first seed in Melanie’s head to move to Sweet Gum. “Yes, that’s the place.”
Rebecca jumped higher on the bed. “I want to go, too. I love that place!”
“Not tonight. Another time.”
“Aw, man...you don’t want me there so you can make goo-goo eyes at Miss Melanie.”
This child was too much. He never knew what she was going to say. Jackson laughed and jumped onto the bed. He grabbed her around the waist and tickled her. “Yes, I do want to make goo-goo eyes at Miss Melanie.”
Jackson’s cell phone rang, and he ceased the tickle fest. He walked over to the dresser and grabbed the phone. He glanced at the caller ID and saw it was Melanie. Goose bumps rose on his arms. “Hello. I hope you’ve worked up a big appetite today.”
Silence.
“Hello, Mel?”
“Uh, Jackson, I’m going to have to cancel tonight.”
His shoulders slumped. He dragged his feet to his leather chair and flopped down. “What’s wrong, Mel? You don’t sound good. Is Phoebe okay?”
“Yes, she’s fine. I have a migraine, that’s all.”
Jackson didn’t believe it. Melanie’s tone told him something was wrong, that it wasn’t a headache. It was something more. “Come on, Mel—tell me the truth. I know that’s not it.” He stood up and paced in front of the chair. “What’s up?”
As if on cue, the sound of pills rattling in a bottle echoed through the phone. “Nothing is up. I have a migraine. What time do you need me at The Bean tomorrow?”
Ready to end this call, he kicked his foot into the chair leg. “I can handle it. Why don’t you take another day off?” He paused and eyed his daughter. “Look, I’ve got to get Rebecca some dinner.”
“Goodbye, Jackson.”
An abrupt click permeated the line. He never had a chance to say goodbye. Was it possible he’d moved too fast for her? Was this her way of slamming the brakes on the budding relationship? Had she gone back to her old ways, thinking he was too small-town for her?
He eased into his chair and gazed out the window. Two squirrels frolicked in the pile of leaves he’d raked yesterday. The swishing of Rebecca’s corduroy pants filled the room when she walked toward him and climbed into his lap. The warmth of her hand on his cheek eased his disappointment. “What’s wrong? You look sad.”
He reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Miss Melanie had to cancel our date.”
Rebecca pouted. “But you’re all dressed and ready.”
The sadness in her eyes tugged at his heart. “I know, but she’s not feeling well.” Refusing to wallow in his own disappointment, Jackson rose to his feet and lifted Rebecca over his head. “What do you say you and I go out for spaghetti and meatballs?”
She giggled and her legs flailed. “Like a date?”
He put her back on the ground. “Yes, exactly like a date, just you and me.”
“Yes! I’m going to go put on my pink dress, the one with little daisies on it.” She skipped out the door, leaving him alone with thoughts of Melanie.
When his cell phone rang, he jumped with hopes she’d changed her mind. He noticed the caller ID before he answered.
Unknown.
“This is Jackson,” he snapped, knowing it was Taylor and expecting dead air. This time she stayed on the line. Muffled sounds came from the other end. “What do you want, Taylor?” he barked into the phone.
“I want to talk to my daughter,” she slurred.
“You what?” Jackson’s ears pounded.
“I want you to put my daughter on the phone, or I’m coming over to your house.”
When he heard a loud clanking noise, Jackson knew Taylor had dropped the phone or passed out.
“Are you still there?” she asked.
Jackson shook his head. If he hadn’t been so angry, he’d have felt sorry for her. “Yes, Taylor, I’m still here, but why don’t you go to bed and sleep this one off?”
“I’m filing for custody of Rebecca.” Her voice was garbled.
He stepped out into the hallway to keep an eye on Rebecca’s door. He didn’t want her to hear a word of this conversation. If that’s what you want to call it. He lowered his voice. “You’re what?”
Heavy breathing echoed through the line. “I’m going to file for custody, so expect the papers soon.”
There was a click, and the line went dead. Jackson squeezed his eyes shut. Lord, please, this can’t be happening.
Fuming, he stuffed his phone into his pocket and headed for the kitchen. He’d take care of Taylor on his own. No one needed to know about her return to the valley, especially Melanie. She had enough to deal with in her own life.
While Jackson waited for Rebecca to finish getting dressed, regret settled in. Why had he told Melanie he could handle things on his own at The Bean tomorrow? He missed her. A lot. Was this what it would be like when she returned to DC? He couldn’t let that happen.
Rebecca walked into the kitchen dressed in her pink dress and patent leather shoes. Jackson smiled when he noticed the pink barrettes trying to pin down the crazy curls. “I’m ready,” she announced.
“You look so pretty.” He walked toward her and touched the b
arrettes. “I really like these.”
“Thank you.” She gazed up at Jackson. “Daddy, does Miss Melanie not like us anymore?”
Jackson took a seat at the kitchen table. “Sit down for a minute.”
Rebecca plopped into the chair across from him.
“Of course she still likes us. She’s just not feeling well.”
She placed her elbows on the table and propped her fist underneath her chin. “I sure had fun baking cookies with her the other day.”
His heart slowed. This was exactly what he’d feared the most. “What did you like the best about it?”
“Well... I liked it all, but the best part was when I pretended she was my mommy. I only pretended it for a minute, but it sure felt good.” She tilted her head and fingered a curl.
Jackson was familiar with the feeling. He’d had it himself. The day he and Melanie played hooky, for a moment, as they sat by the river, he’d pretended she was his wife.
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you feeling better, dear?” Aunt Phoebe stood up from her corner desk in the kitchen and closed her Bible.
After a fitful night of sleep, Melanie decided it was time to get out of bed and face the facts. What she’d thought she and Jackson had was all a figment of her imagination. She inhaled the aroma of the freshly brewed coffee. “I’m feeling much better, but I could use some caffeine.”
Aunt Phoebe’s slippers scuffed along the floor. She placed the large steaming cup on the table.
Melanie wrapped both hands around the mug, and the warmth eased the chill in her bones. This was just what she needed. “Thanks.” She didn’t have the energy to explain what had transpired yesterday, so she remained silent.
Eventually she’d have to face Jackson. Feeling as she did the first time in the courtroom, she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. But mostly, she needed to see Rebecca. She made everything seem better.
“Do you want me to cook you an omelet, or maybe some pancakes?”
With thoughts of Jackson and his ex-wife kissing, food was the last thing her stomach could handle. “No, thank you.” She raised the mug. “This is all I need.”
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