by HELEN HARDT
"What is it?" Luisa asked, concern etched along her brow. "Is something wrong?"
"I’m afraid so. I need to leave. I don’t have a car. Jack drove me."
"What’s wrong? Is it an emergency?"
"No, no. Nothing like that." The only emergency is that I need to get out of here. Her breath caught in her chest. Breathe, Holly. Breathe.
"How can I get a ride home? Will a cab come out here?"
"Carlos can drive you home. He gets Sundays off."
"God. Thank you. I’ll owe you both big time. Where’s Jack?"
"He’s in his office. Then he said something about checking on a few things in the main barn."
"Will he be gone long, do you think?"
"I don’t know. You can run out and tell him what’s going on."
"No!" Holly adjusted her voice quickly. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so upset." But upset she was. "I need to get home right away. How quickly can Carlos get here?"
"In a couple minutes. Please, Holly, can you tell me what’s wrong? Jack will be worried."
"It’s nothing to worry about. Just something came up that I need to take care of."
"What do you want me to tell Jack?"
"Just that. I’ll...I’ll call him later. Tell him not to worry."
"Okay. If you say so."
Holly raced to the bedroom while Luisa picked up the kitchen phone, presumably to call Carlos.
Within fifteen minutes, she was packed and in Carlos’s truck, driving toward downtown Denver.
The only problem was, she’d left her heart at Jack’s ranch.
* * * *
Jack didn’t call her. Hell, she didn’t blame him, the way she’d run off like a freaking coward. Minutes turned into hours as she lay on her bed, holding her pillow to her face, inhaling Jack’s scent. She’d never wash that pillow case. How long would the aroma last? It would slowly dwindle away and she’d be left with nothing.
Why had she fallen in love with him? A man so young, so vibrant, with a beautiful little son who deserved so much more than she could ever give either of them.
Now she had no one to turn to.
It served her right for leading Jack on far too long.
Wait! The Cougar Club chatters!
Night had fallen, and darkness surrounded her. She glanced at her alarm clock. Nine-thirty. Would anyone be in the chatroom on a Sunday night? Of course, the other day she had logged on at midnight and three women were there.
It couldn’t hurt to try.
Still hugging her pillow laced with Jack’s musky fragrance, she wandered into her office and fired up the computer.
MrsRobinson: Holly, good evening! Nice to see you again. Afraid it’s just you and me tonight. Sundays are usually pretty low key.
Holly typed frantically, correcting typos as she went.
HollyGolightly: I’m so glad someone’s in here. I really need to talk.
MrsRobinson: Talk away. That’s what I’m here for.
Where did she begin? She sat and tapped the spacebar for what seemed like hours.
MrsRobinson: You still there?
HollyGolightly: Yes.
MrsRobinson: You’re safe here, Holly.
Safe. That’s what Cublover had told her the first time she’d wandered into this chatroom. Safe. She could tell her story. Tell it to someone who might understand. MrsRobinson’s name was Megan, wasn’t it?
HollyGolightly: May I call you Megan?
MrsRobinson: Of course. Is your real name Holly?
HollyGolightly: Yes.
MrsRobinson: What’s going on? I’ll help if I can.
Holly inhaled deeply and blew the air out her nostrils in a slow stream. Megan couldn’t help. No one could. But at least she could listen. Holly had never said these things out loud. But for the first time, she needed to get it all out.
HollyGolightly: I met a man. A wonderful man. He’s twenty-nine and I’m forty. I didn’t mean to fall in love with him, but I couldn’t help it. He’s nothing like I imagined he’d be. We actually met on a one-night stand. Something I never do....
MrsRobinson: Why did you do it that time, then?
Holly sighed. The million dollar question.
HollyGolightly: I was in a bad place. I had just been diagnosed with cervical cancer.
There, she’d said it.
MrsRobinson: I’m so sorry, Holly. Are you okay now?
Okay? Physically, sure, she was okay. A picture of health, in fact. But emotionally? A wreck.
HollyGolightly: Yes. It was only stage one. I didn’t need any radiation or chemo. They got it all.
Yes, they had gotten it all, but at what cost?
MrsRobinson: I’m so glad to hear that.
HollyGolightly: Problem is, they did a hysterectomy. I got to keep one ovary, to keep my hormones balanced but other than that, I’m empty. I’ve never been married, never had kids. I had to accept that I never would.
MrsRobinson: I’m so sorry, Holly.
HollyGolightly: I tried to look at the bright side. I was alive. They’d caught it in time to cure me. I’d gone this long without kids and my biological clock was ticking anyway. I wasn’t in a relationship, so what did it matter? I figured any man I’d get involved with would probably have kids by now anyway. At least those are the things I told myself. Do you have kids, Megan?
It was a while before she answered. Holly knew Megan pitied her, which annoyed her.
MrsRobinson: Two girls.
HollyGolightly: You must be very proud of them.
MrsRobinson: I am. They’re both in college now.
HollyGolightly: So you’re divorced?
MrsRobinson: From their father, yes. I’m remarried. To my cub.
HollyGolightly: How old is he?
MrsRobinson: He’s forty and he never wanted kids. He’s a wonderful stepfather, though. Joy and Laurie adore him.
So Megan had gotten lucky and found herself a cub who didn’t want kids. Holly cleared her throat and began to type.
HollyGolightly: When Jack—that’s his name—came back into my life out of the blue, I didn’t want to get involved. I knew I could never give him what he deserved—a family. He was very persistent and so attractive. I caved. Now I’m in too deep.
MrsRobinson: Have you told him the truth?
HollyGolightly: No. I can barely think about it myself. This is the first time I’ve talked to anyone about it.
MrsRobinson: You need to tell him.
HollyGolightly: It’s too late now. I hung on way too long without telling him. He has a son, you know. An adorable kid. Six years old. Was never married to the mom and she’s not in the picture. When I found out, I was ecstatic. I figured maybe he’d be okay with not having more kids. That’s not the case.
MrsRobinson: How did you find out?
HollyGolightly: Eating breakfast with his kid. He told me he really wanted a little brother and that his dad had told him maybe someday. That pretty much takes me out of the picture. Which I knew from the beginning. This is my own fault for getting in so deep. But now
She couldn’t finish the sentence so she hit enter. Tears had blurred the computer screen.
MrsRobinson: Now what, Holly?
Holly sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Where was her damned box of tissues?
HollyGolightly: Now I’ve involved his son. He’ll be hurt. His son will be hurt. And I’ll be hurt. I should have ended it before now. Then I’d be the only one hurting. God knows I’ve dealt with that before, and I could have dealt with it again.
MrsRobinson: There’s still time to salvage this, Holly. If this man loves you, he won’t care that you can’t give him another child.
HollyGolightly: He never said he loved me.
MrsRobinson: But you love him.
With all her heart.
HollyGolightly: Yes.
MrsRobinson: Then how can you give up? You have to try. Tell him the truth.
HollyGolightly: Can it work, Megan? Th
is whole cougar thing? I don’t know. I mean, twenty years from now he’ll be in his prime and I’ll be an old lady.
MrsRobinson: First of all, sixty is not an old lady. Not anymore. And yes, it can work. I’ll grant you that I got lucky, finding a cub who wasn’t interested in having children.
HollyGolightly: When I was in here the other night, Charlene’s relationship was ending because her cub wanted a family and she was done with that.
MrsRobinson: Yes, that does happen sometimes. I can’t lie to you. But you’re a little bit ahead of Charlene. Your Jack already has a child.
HollyGolightly: But he wants more.
MrsRobinson: Are you sure about that?"
HollyGolightly: That’s what his son said.
MrsRobinson: But you’ve never had this conversation with him?
HollyGolightly: No.
MrsRobinson: You need to. Talk to him. If he cares for you, he’ll listen. Maybe you can find a way to compromise.
HollyGolightly: How? I can’t give him a child.
MrsRobinson: It’s not all black and white, Holly. You can adopt. And you still have an ovary. If you really want a child of your own body, you can try in vitro fertilization with a surrogate. There are many ways to have children these days.
HollyGolightly: But I’m so old! I’d be sixty when the kid graduated high school.
MrsRobinson: Sounds like you already wrote the whole thing off.
HollyGolightly: I kind of had to, when I got my diagnosis. I had to accept that I’d never be a mother. Then Jack came along again, and I found myself wanting something that I thought I’d closed the door on.
MrsRobinson: Why didn’t you just tell him the truth from the beginning?
Good question. Why hadn’t she?
HollyGolightly: I honestly don’t know.
MrsRobinson: Were you afraid he’d leave you?
HollyGolightly: I never thought of it in those terms. I always knew I’d have to leave him eventually.
MrsRobinson: So you made the choice for him.
HollyGolightly: I guess I did.
MrsRobinson: Then you’ve sold him short. Let him decide. The worst he can do is break it off, and you’ll be no worse off than you are now.
True enough. Why hadn’t she thought of it in this way? Because she’d been too busy feeling sorry for herself, and too busy being selfish. She’d strung Jack along because she couldn’t bear to say good-bye. Then she’d escaped in a haze of cowardice when the going got rough. No more.
HollyGolightly: You’re absolutely right, Megan. Thank you so much! I’m going to call him right now.
MrsRobinson: Yes! Let me know how it works out. I’ll cheer for you if you have good news and I’ll hold your hand if it’s bad. That’s what we’re here for.
HollyGolightly: You’re a gem. I’ll log back on when I have news.
She hurriedly logged off, a spark of energy radiating throughout her. She grabbed her cell phone out of her purse, and then stopped abruptly.
She didn’t have Jack’s number.
All this time and she hadn’t thought to get his number.
How had she fallen head over heels for a man and not gotten his phone number?
She’d truly lost her mind. And her heart.
Calling information proved fruitless. He was unlisted. She didn’t know Luisa’s last name, either, so she couldn’t call her. She did, though, have Mark’s cell number and email on her course syllabus. He’d said his students could contact him anytime. She checked her watch. Somehow, she knew he hadn’t meant she could call him at ten thirty at night.
She’d have to wait until morning. She hoped she wouldn’t lose her nerve by then.
Chapter Twelve
Jack sat in his son’s room, watching the methodic rise and fall of the little boy’s chest as he breathed. When Sam had first come to him, only a little over three months old, Jack had been terrified of SIDS. He’d kept the baby in a cradle in his own bedroom, close enough to reach over and touch the little chest whenever he woke during the night. The rhythmic up and down motion had soothed him then.
The time had long since passed for Jack to worry about his boy making it through the night. But still, on nights when his mind whirled and wouldn’t let him sleep, he’d sneak into Sam’s bedroom, place his hand over his son’s chest, and let the soft cadence of his breathing—his life force—comfort him.
He’d never known what it was like to love a person more than himself until Sam had come into his life. That tiny little person had crept into his heart and grasped it with those chubby little hands, until Jack wondered if his heart had room for anyone else.
During the last week, he’d discovered how spacious his heart actually was. Holly had sneaked in. Somehow, she’d uncovered the key. Jack hadn’t planned to fall in love with her. Yet, when he brought her into his home and introduced her to his son, he’d known she was the one.
The one he’d been searching for his whole life. He just hadn’t let it materialize on a conscious level.
He sighed and gently laid his palm on his son’s chest. He loved this child more than anything. He’d die for his little boy. If anyone dared to harm him? Such a perpetrator had better look to God for forgiveness, for he’d get none from Jack.
Sam’s heartbeat fluttered beneath Jack’s fingertips and his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath of sleep.
Holly had hurt Sam.
Sam had wandered into the barn during mid morning, his big brown eyes wide and confused. "Luisa says Holly left."
Jack had turned from his chore. "What?"
"Yeah. She was supposed to go riding with us again but she left."
"Oh God." Jack’s heart had plummeted to his stomach. Something was wrong. She wouldn’t just...take off.
"How’d she go? She doesn’t have her car."
"Carlos took her."
He had scooped Sam into his arms and carried him quickly back to the house. "Luisa!" He slammed the door. "Luisa, where are you?"
She’d come running. "I’m here. Goodness, what’s wrong?"
"Where’s Holly?"
"She had to go. Carlos drove her home."
"Why? What happened?"
"She just said she was sorry. That something came up."
"Is she okay?"
"Yes. She was fine when she left here. She said she’d call you later."
"Oh. Thank goodness."
"Does that mean she’s not goin’ ridin’ with us today, Daddy?" Sam’s big eyes held sadness.
"I’m afraid so, pal," Jack had said, kneeling down to face his son. "But I’m sure she’ll come back soon to go ridin’."
"But she promised."
"I know. I’m sure she has a good reason why she can’t go today. Tell you what, we’ll go ridin’ anyway. Just you and me. How does that sound?"
Sam had sniffed. "Yeah, that’d be good I guess."
Jack had spent the rest of the day with his son. His heart drank in the pleasure of being with his little boy. When Sam had fallen asleep to a story of the Old West, he’d had an innocent smile on his face.
He’d finally stopped wondering why Holly hadn’t stayed to spend the rest of the weekend.
Jack had taken care of his son, made sure he was happy and unhurt, because that’s what a father did.
No one existed to take away Jack’s own hurt.
Nearly midnight, and here he sat, watching his son sleep. How was it possible Sam had been so upset by Holly’s departure? He’d known her only two days.
Jack understood. Holly had that effect on people. He’d only known her for a little over a week himself, unless he counted their hot one nighter. That only added ten hours, anyway.
Damn her! Her age had never made a speck of difference to him. That had to be what this was about. How could she disappear without any explanation other than "something suddenly came up?" It sounded like a bad sitcom. Luisa had said it had come out of nowhere. Holly hadn’t gotten a phone call or anything. She’d just up and said s
he needed to go home.
If she’d come to the barn to tell him what had happened, or if she’d even told Luisa, he’d have understood.
But no. She’d just left.
Now she hadn’t called.
Jack leaned down and gave his son a quick peck on the cheek. "Sleep tight, pal," he whispered. He tucked the cotton sheet around him a little tighter and left the room.
He fell on his bed, still fully clothed.
It was over.
Hell, it hadn’t even begun.
* * * *
Holly looked at her watch. Eight fourteen a.m. Not even a minute had passed since she’d last looked. Was it too early to call Mark? It was Monday, but it was a holiday. He’d given the students his cell number, but he might not appreciate such an early call on a holiday.
Frantically, she picked up her own cell and dialed. Her heart beat like a stampede of buffalo. She’d risk Mark’s wrath. She needed to talk to Jack, to tell him how she felt, and why she’d left. God, please let him understand.
Five minutes later, Jack’s number programmed into her cell, she listened to the ringing on the other end. It wasn’t ringing, actually. It was Glen Campbell singing Rhinestone Cowboy. She couldn’t help but smile. Jack hadn’t even been alive when that song was popular.
"This is Jack," came his whiskey-smooth voice.
"Jack? It’s me."
A pause. A long pause. A pause so fucking long Holly thought for sure the earth had revolved once around the sun already. Then, finally, "Holly."
She sighed. "Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I want to apologize for—"
He cut her off. "Was it an emergency, Holly?"
"Well, not exactly, but—"
"Is someone dead?"
"What?"
"You heard me."
"No. Of course not. No one’s dead."
"Anyone in the hospital?"
"No. Jack, just listen—"
"Then there isn’t any reason why you couldn’t come tell me before you left. Hell, I’d have driven you home. I’d have done anything for you."
Her heart skipped, and tears blurred her vision. "Oh, Jack. Please. I do have an explanation."
"Not one I care to hear."
"But I—"
