Adam went very still, staring blindly at that empty crib. And then he turned, very slowly, and walked to Jenny’s door. His hand wasn’t quite steady when he lifted it to knock.
“Jenny?”
There was no answer.
Sick with dread, he turned the knob.
She was gone.
Chapter Fifteen
Adam nearly went insane during the long night that followed Jenny’s departure.
His emotions swung wildly. He was angry with Jenny for walking out on him, after all he’d done for her. He was bitterly disappointed that what they’d found had meant so little to her. He was offended that she hadn’t realized that he’d only wanted what was best for her and her child. And he was terrified that something would happen to one of them without him there to take care of them.
He spent the evening calling every motel in central Arkansas. Jenny hadn’t registered in any of them—at least not under her own name. He couldn’t think of anywhere else she might have gone.
He didn’t go to bed that night. He paced the big, empty quiet rooms of his house, his footsteps sounding loud in the utter silence. He couldn’t seem to settle long in any particular room— Jenny’s presence was too strong in all of them.
The kitchen, where they’d shared so many casual, comfortable meals, Melissa lying in her infant seat at one end of the table.
The den, where they’d spent long, peaceful hours reading, watching television, playing with the baby.
Melissa’s room. The one Adam had begun to think of as the nursery. The crib he’d put together, the mobile he’d attached to the rail, the toys he’d bought her, now lying abandoned in the silent room.
His bedroom, where he and Jenny had spent long, passionate nights in each other’s arms. Where he’d discovered a depth of pleasure he’d never experienced before her. A wealth of tenderness he hadn’t known he possessed.
The place had never seemed so big. So cold. So joyless.
It was only a house. While Jenny and Melissa had lived there, it had been a home.
* * *
Early the next morning, he called her parents. Jenny wasn’t with them. Nor had they heard from her.
He spent all day Sunday trying to find her. By late afternoon, he finally made a decision to contact a private investigator, and damn the cost. He was already reaching for the telephone when it rang.
He snatched it up. “Jenny?”
“It’s Granny Fran, Adam.”
He tried not to sound disappointed. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. I probably shouldn’t be calling you—you deserve every minute of worry you’ve probably had—but I couldn’t stand it any longer.”
At first he didn’t understand...and then it hit him. “Jenny’s with you?” he asked quickly, hopefully.
“Yes. She didn’t know where else to go. And she knew I would be here for her if she needed me.”
Adam pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. His shoulders sagged. The relief was almost overwhelming. A sleepless night and hours of worry had taken a heavy toll on him that evening.
“Is she all right?” he asked wearily.
“She’s physically unharmed, if that’s what you’re asking. And Melissa’s fine, too.”
“Thank God. Look, I’ll be there in an hour and—”
“You’ll do no such thing. I didn’t call you so that you would come here, Adam. I only wanted to ease your mind. I knew you would be making yourself sick with worry about them. Now you can relax and go back to your busy, important life.”
Oh, hell. Granny Fran was incensed. She always got that chilly tone to her voice when he’d displeased her, ever since he’d been a kid.
“You could at least hear my side of the story before you start chewing me out,” he said, aware that he sounded a bit like that sullen boy who’d fallen out of her apple tree.
“That isn’t necessary. I already know exactly what you would say. In your mind, you were utterly justified in calling Jenny’s parents without her knowledge or her consent, and arranging a meeting she wasn’t at all prepared for. You knew how she felt about it, but you went ahead with your own plans just because you thought it best—and you are always right, aren’t you, Adam?”
“Gran, it was hurting her to be at odds with her family. None of them could take the first step toward a reconciliation. All I did was help them meet halfway. It turned out fine. Jenny’s father apologized, and she agreed to stay in touch with them from now on. I could see in her eyes that she was glad the reunion had finally taken place.”
“It should have been her decision, Adam. You should have discussed it with her first. By taking away her choice, you implied that she wasn’t capable of handling her own affairs. That hurt her very deeply.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I only wanted to help,” Adam repeated.
“No, Adam. You wanted your own way. As always. Whether anyone else agreed with you or not. And this time, your thoughtless arrogance caused a great deal of pain. That poor child...” Her voice trailed off.
Adam swallowed. “Let me talk to her. Please.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you. She didn’t even want me to call you. She finally gave me permission to do so only because she knew it would ease my mind. Jenny is a very special woman, Adam. She’s bright and capable and independent. She deserves better than to be treated like a helpless, dependent child who must be guided for her own good.”
Adam started to protest that he hadn’t treated Jenny that way. That he had never treated her that way. The words caught somewhere in his throat.
Was that the impression his actions had given her?
“I want her back, Gran.”
She paused to digest his words before asking, “Why?”
“I miss her.”
His grandmother sighed through the wires. “I’m sorry, darling. That just isn’t good enough.”
And for the first time in his life, his adoring grandmother hung up on him.
Adam called his grandmother’s house several times during the next week. Each time, Granny Fran lovingly told him that he was being a nuisance and then refused to make Jenny speak to him. She warned him not to show up on her doorstep. She wouldn’t let him in, she said regretfully. Not while Jenny was with her, asking for sanctuary.
“Sanctuary,” Adam muttered disgruntledly, stalking through the halls of the hospital where he most often operated. Patients, visitors and hospital staff scattered from in front of him, perhaps warned by his expression that he was in no mood to be detained.
“Sanctuary,” he repeated. “You’d think I was a marauding Hun or something.”
“Er—sorry, Dr. Stone. Did you say something to me?” a nervous young nurse asked, clutching a clipboard to her skinny chest.
He glared at her. “No,” he barked.
She gulped and scurried away.
Adam exhaled in self-disgust. There really was no excuse for taking his bad mood out on his associates.
He was finished here for the day. He might as well go home.
The only problem was, he didn’t feel as though he had a home to go to.
* * *
It was sometime during that near-sleepless night that Adam finally realized just how badly he’d messed up. He wasn’t infallible, it appeared. And when he failed, he did so spectacularly.
He’d had no right to try to arrange Jenny’s life. No matter how well-intentioned his motives had been. He’d called himself helping her, but he’d hurt her. Badly.
He’d ruined everything.
His chest ached. His arms felt hauntingly empty. He remembered how they’d felt filled with a cooing, sweet-smelling, satin-skinned baby. The baby he’d come to think of as his own. And then he recalled the dazzling, delicious sensation of holding Jenny in his arms. And he was almost ripped apart by a wave of sheer longing.
For the first time in his life, Adam was in need of help. He’d gotten himself into a terrible mess, and he cou
ldn’t get out of it by hiring someone to take care of it, or by making a few quick, imperious decisions.
There was only one person who could help him. Jenny. And he’d driven her away.
And this time, he didn’t know if there was anything he could do to make everything right again.
* * *
A week after she’d slipped away from Adam’s house, Jenny sat in the living room of his grandmother’s cozy little cottage, playing with Melissa. Granny Fran sat nearby, laughing at the faces Melissa was making in response to her mother’s teasing. It was a pleasant, cozy scene.
Jenny wished she could truly enjoy it.
She knew she wouldn’t be able to stay here much longer. She’d imposed on dear Mrs. Carson long enough. But she’d been so emotionally battered, so heartsick and lost when she’d left Adam’s house that she hadn’t been able to think of anyplace else to go. She’d gotten into her car, and found herself headed for the only place she knew where she would be welcomed with simple, unconditional affection. And she had been.
“She’s such an intelligent baby,” Granny Fran said enthusiastically. “Look at her trying to imitate you. I swear, she’ll be talking in complete sentences before she’s a year old.”
Jenny smiled. “Maybe not quite that early. But she does seem bright, doesn’t she?”
“Extremely. And beautiful, too.”
“And you say that with total objectivity,” Jenny said gravely.
The older woman laughed softly. “Of course not. I can’t be objective about anyone I love. I think everyone in my family is bright and beautiful.”
Jenny’s own smile faded. Every once in a while it occurred to her that she and Melissa weren’t really a part of Granny Fran’s family. That it would soon be time to move on.
It would hurt her almost as much to leave Granny Fran as it had to leave Adam. Not quite, of course. But almost.
A sudden pounding on the front door made her sit up with a gasp. It was silly—but she was almost sure she knew whose fist was rattling that door.
Granny Fran seemed to have the same suspicion. Wide-eyed, she looked at Jenny. “I was afraid his patience would wear out soon,” she said, almost apologetically.
Jenny moistened her lips. “You think it’s Adam?”
The door quivered again beneath another impatient assault.
“Oh, yes,” Adam’s grandmother said ruefully. “I’m absolutely sure it is.”
Jenny groaned. Why was Adam here? Why couldn’t he just accept that it was over? Was it so hard for him to admit that he couldn’t always have things his way?
She didn’t even try to delude herself that she’d hurt more than his sizable ego when she’d left him.
“I’ll send him away,” Granny Fran said, rising to her feet.
Jenny stopped her with an outstretched hand. “No. That won’t be necessary. I’ll see him.”
She couldn’t have forgiven herself for coming between Adam and his beloved grandmother. This was his family, not Jenny’s. She had no right to keep them apart any longer.
She could handle this, she assured herself, wishing she could have expressed the thought just a bit more confidently.
Adam barely took time to greet his grandmother before he stepped past her, his eyes locked with Jenny’s. She stared back at him, shocked by his appearance.
He looked terrible.
His hair was rumpled and in need of a trim. His white cotton shirt was wrinkled, and he wore old, tattered jeans that faithfully molded his lean hips and long, powerful legs. His eyes were deep set, heavy lidded, as though he hadn’t slept in days. The lines around his mouth seemed to be carved more deeply than they had been before.
Had he been anyone else, she would have said this was a man in deep pain. A man in need.
But Adam Stone didn’t need anyone, she reminded herself sternly. Adam Stone thought he could take care of everything himself, with a wave of his regal hand.
“Jenny,” he said, and his voice sounded hoarse. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she answered, refusing to be swayed by his appearance. The hunger in his dark eyes.
He wouldn’t play her so easily this time.
He looked at Melissa. For a moment, Jenny’s resolve quivered. The way he looked at the baby almost broke Jenny’s heart—or would have, if he hadn’t broken it already.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he murmured, touching Melissa’s cheek.
She grinned in delight at the sound of his familiar voice. She flexed her fingers in his direction, and he reached for her, gathering her close.
I won’t cry, Jenny thought determinedly. I won’t! But she had to look away from Adam and her daughter to keep the tears under control.
“I’m sure you want to talk to Jenny,” Granny Fran said to Adam, reaching for the baby. “I’m going to take Melissa next door to visit Lila for a little while. All right, Jenny?”
Jenny wanted to beg her to stay, wanted to plead with her not to leave her alone with Adam. But, instead, she nodded. “Yes. Fine. Take your time.”
Tucking the baby into one arm, Granny Fran paused to give her grandson a stern look. “Behave yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said automatically.
Jenny wondered if he was aware of how naturally the respectful words came to him.
The silence seemed almost palpable when Jenny and Adam were alone. He cleared his throat, and the sound almost echoed in the silent room.
Adam spoke first. “Would you like to sit down?”
She perched on the edge of the couch. He sat at the other end, half turned to face her, his hands gripped on his knees.
Jenny noted that his knuckles were white.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, quietly.
She couldn’t answer. She’d missed him, too, of course. So badly she’d thought she couldn’t bear it at times. But she wouldn’t tell him so.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking since you left,” he went on. “I’ve thought about what I did, what you said. And I’ve realized how wrong I was. I’m sorry, Jenny. I shouldn’t have called your parents without talking to you about it first.”
She nodded. “All right. I accept your apology.”
That obviously was not the answer he’d expected. “You accept my apology?”
“That’s what I said.”
He frowned, searching her face. She hoped he couldn’t read her emotions there. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?” he asked.
“I understand why you did it,” she said honestly. “I know you thought you were doing the right thing. As for forgiving you—no, I haven’t. I’m sorry—but I can’t.”
She half expected him to start yelling again. Something along the lines of “Damn it, Jenny!”
Instead he sighed heavily, lowered his head and stared at his white-knuckled hands. “I was afraid of that.”
Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she bit her lower lip. Something just wasn’t right here, she thought warily.
Why wasn’t Adam shouting? Why wasn’t he telling her again how foolish she was not to acknowledge that his plan had worked exactly as he’d expected it to? Why wasn’t he reminding her that he knew what was best for her?
Why did he look so sad?
“Adam?”
He looked up at her, his expression bleak. “I’ve destroyed everything, haven’t I? Your feelings for me, your trust in me. I blew it.”
She swallowed hard, past the lump in her throat. “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t do this.”
He turned away. “I’m sorry.”
Jenny twisted her fingers in her lap. What game was he playing now? What did he expect her to do, to say?
She couldn’t stand seeing him like this. Tired. Depressed. Defeated. It just wasn’t...Adam.
Tentatively she reached out to him. Her fingertips brushed his shoulder.
He trembled.
“Adam?” Jenny asked, his name little more than a breath of sound.
“I know you�
��re capable of taking care of yourself, and your child. I know you don’t...you don’t need me to help you. But if there’s anything you need—anything at all—I want you to feel free to ask.”
She couldn’t believe he was saying this. She hadn’t expected him to give up so easily. Had she only hoped he would fight harder for her? Had she secretly believed he would win?
“All the things you left at my house belong to you,” he continued. “Melissa’s crib, her toys, the other things...they’re yours. I’ll see that you get them.”
Unable to speak, she nodded.
Adam drew a deep, unsteady breath. “I have a few connections in Little Rock if you need a job or an apartment. I could help you get an interview. The rest, of course, would be up to you. I know you wouldn’t want me to do any more.”
He really was saying goodbye, she realized, stunned. He was letting her go.
Had she meant so little to him, after all?
Adam stood abruptly. “I didn’t come here to make you uncomfortable,” he said gruffly. “I only wanted to make sure you and Melissa are okay. And to let you know that if you ever need me, I’ll be here for you. Always.”
He turned and moved toward the door.
Jenny caught her breath. He really was leaving.
And she couldn’t let him go.
She jumped to her feet, hurried after him. “Adam—”
He paused, one hand on the doorknob, his back turned to her. He seemed to be holding himself unusually stiffly. “Yes?”
“I— I—” What? What was left to say?
She drew a deep breath for courage. “I wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for me during the past three months. Taking me in, delivering the baby, giving me a job, a home. I owe you a great deal.”
“You owe me nothing.” He corrected her curtly, sounding more like himself now. “Everything I did, I did because I wanted to. Because I cared about you.”
She wished she could see his face. She ached to touch him, to kiss him. Just one more time. “I cared about you, too,” she whispered.
She heard him swallow. “I know,” he muttered. “And I threw it all away.”
He bent his head. His voice was gravelly. “I’ve rarely asked for anything in my life, Jenny. And I’ve damn well never begged. But, if I thought it would help, I would beg you to forgive me for the way I hurt you.”
A Home for Adam Page 20
