Taking a Chance

by Maggie McGinnis

  “Okay…I get that.”

  “And also, we live a thousand freaking miles apart. Little bit of an issue, yes?”

  “Definitely.”

  Emma started pacing, feeling the walls close in. “Can I come visit you?”

  “Um, of course! When?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Emma, you can’t run from this. From him.”

  “I can, too. Just temporarily. I just need a few days to get my head on straight.”

  “And you pick a house with four children, two dogs, ten gerbils, and a lizard?”

  Emma smiled, picturing the scene. “Maybe I need some noise.”

  “Well, we have that, in spades. Come on down.”

  “Thank you, Lauren.” Emma felt tears leak out the corners of her eyes as she pictured her sister sitting amidst piles of laundry and utter chaos. “I’ll send you my itinerary as soon as I book it.”

  “Hey, sweetie?”

  “Yes?” Emma sniffed. She was pegging the pathetic-meter here, but come on. She supposed she’d kind of earned it.

  “First—it’s going to be okay. It is. You have to believe that. And second—maybe…maybe this is meant to be, you know? Maybe you’re getting a second chance here.”

  —

  “Hey, Jasper.” Daniel came through the door of the café two days later, after the church crowd had filtered out to their respective morning services.

  “Morning. What brings you in here on a Sunday morning?”

  “The need for hot, strong coffee.”

  “Too many females in your house?”

  “Good God, yes. I need a dog. A big, male husky or something, just to balance out the estrogen.”

  Jasper laughed as he slid a mug of coffee across the bar. “Well, all I’ve got to offer is a basket of kittens that some shmuck foisted on me. Can’t help you there.”

  “Sorry.” Daniel spun his cup slowly around, not meeting Jasper’s eyes. “How’s Emma feeling?”

  He asked the question innocently enough, but Jasper felt an undertone humming along with his words.

  “I think she’s on the mend. Kyla was in earlier and said she’s doing all right. She hasn’t gone back to work yet, though. Katrina’s been holding down the fort up at the nursing home.”

  “Huh.” Daniel nodded, then sighed. “I so suck at this.”

  “At what?”

  “Did Emma seem like she had—you know—the flu? Or…maybe something else?”

  “The flu. Same as everybody else.” Jasper narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” Daniel drank a gulp of his coffee. “I might have happened upon the girls talking last night out at the ranch, and I might have overheard things I shouldn’t have, and I might not have been able to get confirmation without fessing up that I was eavesdropping, but I couldn’t help it.”

  “Speak. English.”

  “I think Emma might be pregnant.”

  Jasper froze.

  “What?”

  Daniel took an awkward breath, shaking his head. “Could be wrong. Totally could be wrong.” He cringed as he met Jasper’s eyes. “I don’t think I’m wrong.”

  Jasper felt breath whoosh out of his lungs as his head spun in circles. He blinked hard, shaking his head.

  “Not possible.”

  “Sounds like that’s what Emma kept saying, too.”

  “No. Seriously. Not—no.”

  “That, too.”

  “Son of a—how?” He closed his eyes, feeling for the stool he kept behind the counter.

  “You gonna faint now, too?”

  “Shut up.” He opened his eyes again. “Jesus, Daniel.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I—wow—I need to go.” He stood up, then sat back down. “I need to talk to her.”

  Daniel reached out and clamped a hand on his arm. Then he shook his head but didn’t speak.

  “What do you mean—no?”

  “She’s gone.”

  Jasper stood up, and the stool went clattering to the floor. “Gone? Where? Gone, how? Gone, when?”

  “She left this morning. Flew to her sister’s in San Diego.”

  Jasper shook his head, an old panic creeping into his chest. “Is she coming back?”

  “I—don’t know.”

  “Son of a— Are you kidding?” Jasper paced the length of the bar, then back again, hearing the raw pain in his own voice but not knowing how to erase it. “And no one thought to tell me until now?”

  “It’s not the same, Jasper.” Daniel shook his head firmly. “Not the same as before.”

  “How? How is it not the same? She is carrying my baby, she didn’t tell me, and now she’s gone. Tell me how that’s different.”

  He froze again, the word baby hanging in the air between them.

  Daniel’s eyes were wide. “Bridget was pregnant?”

  “Sixteen weeks.” Jasper nodded miserably, taking a deep, shaky breath. “And she hadn’t even told me.”

  Chapter 29

  “It’s not the same,” Daniel repeated. “It’s not.”

  “How can you even say that? How is it not the same?”

  “She’s just…afraid.”

  Of course she was. How could she not be?

  “Afraid of having a baby? Afraid of…me?”

  “Afraid that you’ll be a good and decent man.”

  Jasper stopped. “What?”

  “You dropped her like a hot potato, man. Only weeks ago. She knows damn well you weren’t ready to be anything more than a one-night stand—an accidental one, at that. So she knows damn well that you don’t want to be a father.”

  “She can’t possibly—”

  “But she also knows you’d do the right thing. She just doesn’t know whether you’d be doing it because you want to, or because it’s the right thing to do.”

  Jasper took a deep breath and started pacing again, trying to decipher Daniel’s words through the zigzag fog enveloping his brain.

  Okay, he could see that. He could. Here he’d been, saying sayonara after a magical night, so why in the universe would she think he’d be happy to hear that their one night together had resulted in a miracle?

  She wouldn’t.

  And that was his fault.

  “I’m going after her.”

  “Jasper.”

  “Don’t try to convince me not to.” He punched a couple of buttons on the cash register and pulled out a pile of bills, then locked it up.

  “I’m not going to. But maybe”—Daniel sighed—“maybe make sure you’re really, really ready. Take it from a guy who’s been here. Make sure you’ve shut the doors you need to close first, so you can open the new ones with a clear conscience. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Jasper paused.

  “Next flight out doesn’t leave till six tonight.” Daniel slid a boarding pass across the counter. “Hayley booked you an hour ago. Make sure your head’s clear before you get on it.”

  —

  Two hours later, the meadow grass was crisper than it had been even a few weeks ago, the colors more weathered and yellow as Jasper dismounted near the tree he’d helped Emma climb.

  It seemed like ages ago, and it seemed like yesterday.

  He’d been trying since that night to forget about that day, and he’d done a lousy damn job of it. He’d tried to stay busy, tried to stay clear of her, tried to convince himself that the whole thing had been a dream.

  But sitting on her bed two days ago, seeing her eyes water as she talked about her baby, had wrenched something so hard inside him that he hadn’t felt like he was walking straight ever since.

  He’d left, because if he hadn’t left, he’d have kissed her. And if he’d kissed her, he wouldn’t have ever been able to leave her again. He’d known it, so he’d fled.

  Again.

  He opened the backpack he’d brought with him, spurred on by both Daniel’s words and the boarding pass in his pocket. When his hand closed around the plain wooden box inside, he pause
d, swallowing hard.

  He’d avoided doing this for five years. He’d kept this box on a shelf, in plain sight, so he could look at it and remember. Learn. Do better.

  He’d never felt ready to let go, never felt like he’d done enough to deserve letting go.

  But the thought of Emma Winthrop boarding a plane this morning had brought a sort of jagged, dangerous clarity.

  He’d never really had her, but he could lose her.

  Lose her.

  And not only her. He could lose so, so much more.

  Maybe he’d never feel like he deserved to move on—not really. But his father’s words echoed in his head, and he hadn’t been able to silence them since Dad had tossed them lightly across the table. Emma was a gift. That much was painfully clear. And whether he deserved her or not, he knew now—knew it so hard that it physically jabbed his ribs—that if he let her go, he’d regret it for the rest of his lonely days.

  But first, there were steps he needed to take, and for the first time in five years, he felt ready to take them.

  He stood on the edge of the ridge and opened the box slowly, reverently. He spoke words he hadn’t even known he remembered, called up from some childhood pew. And then he tipped it, let the breeze carry its contents, watched the fluttering ash as it sailed slowly up, outward…and finally out of sight.

  —

  From Jasper’s special spot in the oak tree, Emma watched, her heart in her throat. She’d set out for the airport this morning, but she hadn’t gone twenty miles before she’d realized there was no way she could really go. He was still scarred by a woman who’d walked away, and she’d be damned if she would add to his damages with her own desperate flight. He deserved better than that.

  So she’d turned around, her hands shaking on the wheel, because she had to tell him, but what in the world would she say? What thirty-five-year-old woman got pregnant by accident these days? Nobody, that’s who. But in one insane, out-of-body night, she’d managed to irrevocably alter two lives. With a shaky breath, she put her hand on her stomach.

  Three. Three lives.

  She’d driven back to Whisper Creek, pulled his car around behind her cabin, and set out on foot, not even knowing where she was headed until she’d crested a hill and spotted his tree. And then she’d hauled herself up into the branches, determined to find peace and answers.

  He’d said it had worked for him years ago.

  But then he’d appeared, long before she got clarity or peace, and now she was stuck up in this damn tree, witnessing such a private, painful scene that it made her chest actually ache.

  She saw the box, saw the ashes, saw Jasper’s shoulders shake as he sat down afterward, the empty wooden box beside him.

  His wife.

  It had to be.

  She felt tears prick at the edges of her eyelids as she watched him from above. God, the pain! The utter devastation in his face, his posture, his sunken shoulders made her want to climb back down and throw her arms around him, desperate to comfort him.

  She knew she should avert her eyes—should go back to lying in the tree-hammock and resume staring at the sky—but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop watching him.

  Couldn’t stop—oh, Lord—loving him.

  And that was the worst possible emotion she could be feeling at this moment, because clearly, she was watching a man who was far, far from being over his wife. The scene she was witnessing left no doubt in her mind that it would be a long, long time before Jasper would be ready to welcome another woman into his life.

  Maybe he never would.

  The thought made her stomach squeeze in fear. He’d pulled back like lightning after their night together, so a sane woman wouldn’t exactly have been having hopeful doubts here. But a sane woman wouldn’t normally be finding herself pregnant from that one night, either.

  She had to tell him. She had to. But to see him sitting there, shoulders shaking as he bowed his head, she also knew that she needed to be prepared to go it alone with this baby. She’d entertained glimmers of hope over the past twenty-four hours, tiny sparkling dots that invaded her head and made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, they might have a chance of making something work.

  But looking at him now, it was clear that she’d been completely, utterly delusional.

  She wished the realization didn’t hurt quite as much as it did.

  Chapter 30

  Jasper parked his truck in front of Java Beans, grabbing the velvet box from the seat beside him as he swung open the door. He had no idea how he’d expected to feel right now, so soon after finally letting go of Bridget’s ashes, but elated sure wouldn’t have been on the list.

  Yet that’s exactly how he felt. Light, free, ready.

  He just needed to check in with Liam, who’d offered to oversee the place while he was in San Diego, then throw a few things in a duffel bag and head to the airport. The box practically hummed in his hand, but he was confident it was right. Just right.

  He pulled open the glass door, doing an automatic head count as he headed for the coffee counter. He nodded, satisfied. Might be time to think about expanding into the back room one of these days. More often than not lately, there wasn’t an open seat in the place.

  But now wasn’t exactly the time to be making plans like that, given the conversations he was bound to have over the next couple of days. He had no idea what the future held at this point, but for the first time in forever, he felt like he was so damn ready to figure it out.

  “Yo,” Liam called from behind the counter. “What can I get you, stranger?”

  “I don’t know. You have coffee here?” Jasper came around the end of the counter and went down the line of carafes, tipping them to see if any needed refilling.

  “You checking on my coffee maintenance skills here? Everything’s full, thank you very much.”

  “Sorry.” Jasper put up both hands. “Got issues with other people managing my coffee.”

  “Couldn’t tell, given this bible of directions you left me.” Liam rolled his eyes. “Your pursuit of coffee perfection is safe with me. I wouldn’t dare touch the beans in any way that wasn’t preapproved. So hands off. You’ve got better things to do. Also, you have company.”

  “Huh?” Jasper looked around the café but didn’t see anyone who appeared to be waiting to talk to him.

  Liam tipped his head toward the back room. “In there.”

  “Who?”

  “Emma.”

  “Wha—?”

  “Yeah. Apparently not in San Diego.”

  Jasper’s eyes flew to the box he’d just set on the counter, and Liam’s followed.

  He pointed. “Holy sh—no. You’re not—really? Seriously?”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to give it to her now.” Jasper took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Dammit, he’d thought he had a few hours at thirty thousand feet to practice before he faced Emma. But now she was here?

  “You need something stronger than coffee before you head back there?”

  “Tempting.” He shook his head. “Very, very tempting.”

  “She doesn’t know you’re here yet. Maybe go take a walk around the square and get your shit together before you do this? Maybe—make sure you’re ready? Because are you? Like, seriously?”

  “Turns out? Yeah.” Jasper nodded, feeling a smile sneak over his face as he looked at the door separating the café from the back room. He tapped the bar with his fist, then picked up the box, winking at Liam. “Wish me luck.”

  —

  Emma picked up the kitten she’d named Snowball, cuddling it into her neck as she sat gingerly on Jasper’s leather couch. She’d had second thoughts about coming here only thirty times in the last thirty seconds, and had actually made it all the way to the back door twice before she’d chickened out and made herself stay put.

  If she didn’t do this now—right now—she was dead afraid she’d lose her courage, fly to San Diego tonight, and end up sending him a Congratulations! You�
�re a daddy! card in the spring.

  She walked to the windows, where the view wasn’t nearly as spectacular as upstairs but was still amazing. She’d rehearsed what to say a hundred times now. She was ready. She’d start with how Bette was apparently coming back to work earlier than expected and move on to how that meant Emma wouldn’t have to learn to drive in snow, after all, because she’d be headed back to Florida in two weeks, and then, after a well-measured pause during which she praised her time here and his friends and the view—of course—she’d move into the whole oh-by-the-way-there’s-a-baby thing.

  In the annals of baby announcements, it wouldn’t rate up there as the prettiest, but points for honesty and forthrightness and all of that, right?

  “Hey.”

  Jasper’s voice sliced into her from behind, soft and deep, and she spun around.

  “I’m pregnant, Jasper.”

  Her eyes went wide. Seriously? After all that practice, she’d just blurted it like that?

  She clamped her lips shut, trying to stop them from shaking so hard while she waited for his reaction, now that she’d detonated the news all over him.

  He didn’t answer for the longest time—just studied her face, up and down and around and around until she thought she might scream.

  Finally, he spoke. “How do you feel about it?”

  “How do I feel?” She shrugged. What kind of question was that? “Scared, terrified, mystified, scared…terrified?”

  He nodded, his face sympathetic, which was reassuring. But really, had she expected different?

  “Anything else?”

  She looked up at the ceiling, taking three shaky breaths. “Blessed. Lucky, magical, wondrous.” She looked back at him. “But mostly terrified.”

  He smiled. “Good to have a balance.”

  “I’m going to have this baby, Jasper. But I’m able and willing to do it on my own. I’m not asking for anything—nothing. I know you’re not in a space to take this on, and that’s—it’s okay. I can do it. We’ll be fine, and you can be involved however you want to, as time goes by.”

  “Do you want to do it alone?”

  His voice was soft, and in it, she couldn’t quite read whether he was hoping her answer would be yes or no.

  She’d spent twenty-four hours convincing herself that she could do it alone—that she’d be just fine raising a child by herself. And she would. She knew she would. She could do it.