She got up and went to her room, sagging against the door in relief after she closed it. Why couldn’t she have an open and honest relationship with her mother? Were memories of her father still standing in the way?
She wished she had the courage to talk to Mavis about him. The darkness of the past needed to be brought into the light.
But if the past was brought into the light, would she be disappointed by what she saw?
* * *
When Bridget walked into Jack’s house a few mornings later she was surprised to see Leslie in her pajamas, drawing pictures with wax crayons at the kitchen table. Jack sat next to her, drinking his coffee.
“Hi, Leslie. How come you’re not in school today?”
She just shrugged and said nothing. She kept her eyes averted, her attention solely on her drawing.
“Leslie’s not feeling well today,” Jack said.
Bridget put a hand on her forehead. Her skin was cool to the touch. “Well, it doesn’t seem like you have a temperature. Where do you hurt, sweetie?”
She rubbed her tummy. “Here.” She still wouldn’t look at Bridget.
“Do you have some ginger ale, Jack? That always makes a stomachache feel better.”
He nodded. “Yes, I gave her some a little while ago.”
He got to his feet and grabbed a cup from the cupboard. “I just made coffee. Would you like some?”
“Sure.” She kissed the top of Leslie’s head, then took the coffee cup he offered her and followed him into the family room.
“I’m worried about Leslie,” he said quietly once they’d taken a seat on the sofa. “She wet her bed last night. She hasn’t done that in years.”
“Kids have accidents once in a while. It’s probably nothing to be worried about.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Maybe, but something’s not right with her. She seems lethargic lately, just not herself.”
“She doesn’t seem to have her usual energy,” Bridget said. “Have you taken her to see a doctor? Maybe she’s picked up some kind of bug.”
“I thought of that. I’m taking her to see her doctor in the city this afternoon.”
“Good idea.”
He reached for her hand. “I guess our plans for the morning will have to be put on hold. I’m very disappointed.”
“Me too,” she said with a smile. “I’ve become very fond of our little morning rendezvous.”
“They’re the best part of my day.” He pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled her neck. “Maybe you can come back after Leslie goes to bed tonight.”
“I can’t tonight. Tina and I are catering the school board supper.”
He groaned and buried his head in her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, a feeling of intense tenderness washing over her.
“I should go,” she said. “I left in kind of a hurry this morning. I didn’t finish some of my chores.”
“Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?”
“Not another minute.”
He kissed her neck, his warm lips tracing a path to her mouth. His kiss told her more about his feelings then he’d ever said in words. When he kissed her like this, she felt cherished and loved.
But he had never once used the L word. Then again, neither had she.
“Daddy! I’ve got to go!”
Leslie’s plaintive cry came from the kitchen. Jack lifted her off his lap and quickly got to his feet, covering the short distance to the kitchen in a few short strides.
He took Leslie to the washroom and when they came back, she had tears in her eyes. Bridget was alarmed by her bleak expression. It just didn’t jibe with Leslie’s normally sunny disposition.
She went to her, getting down on one knee in front of her to look in her face. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Why are you crying?”
“Daddy says I have to go to the doctor. I don’t want to go.”
“Your daddy just wants to make you feel better. It’ll be fine, sweetheart. I promise. By tomorrow your tummy won’t hurt anymore and you’ll be ready to go back to school.”
“No! I won’t go back to school!” Leslie beat her small fists against Bridget’s shoulder. Jack grabbed her hands.
“Leslie, what’s gotten into you? Say you’re sorry to Bridget. You know you’re not supposed to hit people.”
“Sorry,” she said through her tears.
Bridget hugged her and Leslie clung to her, sobbing.
Jack gently touched Leslie’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go upstairs and put your robe on? I’ll be up in a minute to run you a bath. That’ll make you feel a lot better.”
“Okay.” She swiped the back of her hand over her tearstained face before hurrying out of the room. Jack shook his head and sighed.
“I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what’s going on with her.”
She rose to her feet. “Don’t worry. Maybe the doctor can shed some light on the situation. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “With any luck.”
She drove back to town but instead of going directly back to the bar, she headed to the public library. Maybe it was time to do some more research on the special school for Leslie in Bismarck. She ignored the little voice in her head that told her Jack wouldn’t be happy about her meddling in his daughter’s life.
* * *
The visit to the doctor had been inconclusive. He did some tests but could detect no elevated temperature, no infections, not even a sniffle that might account for Leslie’s mysterious tummy aches and bed-wetting. The only thing he could suggest was that she was under some kind of stress that was upsetting her.
The idea was ridiculous. What kind of stress could she be under? She was ten years old, for God’s sake. He held firm to the belief that a virus was responsible for her problems.
After a few days at home, she seemed almost her old self. She cried when he insisted she had to go back to school, but he wouldn’t give in. It killed him to see his little girl in tears but he couldn’t let her stay home forever.
Bridget came out to the ranch every morning, even while Leslie was home from school. Every morning he waited for her, never quite sure if she would come, and always relieved when she did. More and more, his happiness revolved around her morning visits. The idea disconcerted him.
On a Thursday morning she pulled into the ranch just after Dallas Green left but before Gladys arrived to make lunch, as was her custom. As always, her timing annoyed him. Was she embarrassed about sleeping with him?
He watched as she got out of her car and walked toward him. He was as anxious to avoid gossip as she was. So why did the fact that she didn’t want anyone to know about them bug him so much?
She smiled and reached for his hand, giving him a tender kiss that made his heart ache.
“Did Leslie go to school today?”
“Yeah. I think she’s feeling better.”
“That’s good. You’re cold,” she said, laying her bare hand on his cheek as if trying to warm his skin. “Let’s go inside. I’m sure your bed is much, much warmer.”
For a moment he stared into her eyes, unmoving. After their forced abstinence, he wanted her with a ferocity that made his hands shake as he grasped her shoulders. He wanted to ask her what they were doing, where they were going, but he couldn’t. Keeping their relationship on a physical level was the right thing to do. It was better not to know what the future would bring.
He made himself smile. “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”
Later, Bridget rested her head in the curve of his arm, her hand caressing his chest and her body warm and soft against his. He lifted her hand to his lips for a kiss, feeling relaxed and sated and ridiculously happy.
“I could stay here all day,” she murmured, snuggling closer.
“Why don’t you?”
“Unfortunately I have to work. Besides, Gladys might be a little shocked to find me in your bed.”
“I doubt Gladys would be shock
ed to discover that we’ve been sleeping together. She probably already suspects we are.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and looked into her face. “Is there a reason you don’t want anyone to know about us? Are you sorry?”
She pushed herself on to her elbows to look into his face, wrapping the sheet around her breasts as she did so. “Sorry about having the best sex of my life? Are you kidding?”
He grinned. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but you know what I mean. Are you sorry you got involved with me? I know I’m not exactly a prize. Is that the reason you haven’t told anyone about us?”
“Of course I’m not sorry.” She tenderly stroked his face, her eyes clouded with concern. “I haven’t found the right way to tell Rebecca about us. Until I find a way to make her understand, I can’t let her find out through gossip.”
“You’re sure that’s the only reason?”
“Yes, of course it is. What other reason could I have?”
He turned his face away from her. “Maybe you’re thinking there’s no point in telling her about us because you’ll be leaving soon. You told me you’d like to stay in Paradise, but are you being honest with yourself? Maybe you’d like to get back together with your ex as much as she would like you to.”
“Is that what you think?”
He said nothing.
She placed her hand on his face and forced him to look at her. “I am absolutely, definitely never going back to Rebecca’s father. Ever.”
His heart lifted at the certainty in her voice. But it wasn’t enough. She didn’t promise to stay.
He told himself to be content with what she could give him. He pulled her against his side, kissing the top of her head.
“I’m sorry. I come with a lot of baggage. It makes me question everyone else’s motives.”
She snuggled back into the curve of his arm. “I come with a lot of baggage too. It’s not easy for me to trust anyone, not even my own family. I need some time, Jack.”
He kissed her forehead, wishing he could shake the premonition that their time together would be short. “Okay.”
She absently stroked his chest. “Jack, what was she like, your ex-wife Victoria?”
He went very still. “What do you want to know?”
“Were you happy together?”
“No, not really.” He took a deep breath. “We tried, but we were never able to make it work.”
“Did you love her?”
“I cared for her, but I didn’t love her the way I should have, not the way a man should love his wife.”
“Then why did you marry her?” She looked up into his face. “You married Victoria just three months after I left.”
He clasped her hand. “I had to. She was pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” Her face clouded in confusion. “I don’t understand. That was twenty years ago. Leslie is only ten.”
“I’m not proud of what happened. After you left Paradise, I went a little crazy in Houston. I drank too much, hung out in bars too much. I met Victoria in one and she made it quite clear she wanted me, so I slept with her.” Looking back, he knew the only reason he’d slept with Victoria that first time was because after being rejected by Bridget, he needed to know that someone still wanted him. “I guess I was too drunk to bother with protection. Next thing I knew, she was telling me she was pregnant.”
“So you married her.”
“I had to do the right thing for my child. Then, a few weeks after our wedding, she miscarried.”
“But you stayed.”
He closed his eyes. “It didn’t feel right to cut and run. She begged me not to go and I thought maybe we could work it out. So I stayed.”
He knew now that it had been the wrong decision for both of them. He’d stayed mostly out of guilt. He didn’t love her. How could he when he was still in love with Bridget?
“She had two more miscarriages before Leslie was conceived. When she was born with Down syndrome and a serious heart defect, Victoria couldn’t handle it. She wanted me to choose—either her or the baby. I chose the baby. Leslie was the only good thing to come out of that marriage.”
Despite spending eight years in an unhappy marriage, he didn’t blame Victoria. She’d deserved a husband who’d loved her, not one hung up on another woman.
Bridget snuggled close and linked her fingers with his. “When I met Ben at a restaurant we were both working at, the first thing that struck me was how much he looked like you. He was tall and handsome, and even the color of his hair was the same as yours. He was kind, and hardworking and ambitious, just like you. Or so I thought. In the end I found out he wasn’t anything like you. No one ever could be.”
He kissed the top of her head. For the first time he acknowledged that Bridget’s marriage had been as difficult as his own. Maybe more difficult. At least he hadn’t gone into his marriage with any illusions about being in love with Victoria.
The phone on the bedside table rang, chasing away his disquieting thoughts. He reached over Bridget to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Jack? Mavis Turner here. Is Bridget there?”
“Yeah, sure, Mavis. She’s right here.”
He handed the receiver to Bridget. Obviously Mavis had no difficulty figuring out where she went every morning. So much for keeping their relationship under wraps.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
Bridget’s brow wrinkled in concern as she listened to her mother. “The fourth grade? Are you sure that’s what the principal said?” Her face paled as she listened. “Yes, yes I’ll go to the school right away.”
She hung up the phone and scrambled out of bed.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
She looked close to tears as she pulled on her jeans. “The school says Rebecca hit a kid in the fourth grade. She’s in the principal’s office right now.” She took a shuddering breath as she reached for her sweater. “I don’t understand this at all. Rebecca may be a lot of things, but she’s not a bully.”
“You’re right.” He jumped out of bed and began to dress. “I know the way she treats Leslie. She would never bully a younger kid.”
“It means a lot to me that you believe in her. Thank you.” She finished dressing and quickly ran a comb through her hair. “I’d better run.”
The phone rang again. Bridget froze, as if afraid of more bad news about Rebecca.
He picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Mr. Davison? This is Sally Smith, the secretary at the school. I’ve got Leslie in the office with me. She’s been very upset this morning and has been crying a lot. She says she’s not feeling well. We think it’s best if she goes home for the rest of the day. Can you pick her up?”
He stared at the floor, his stomach in knots. What was going on with her? Until a couple of weeks ago he’d thought she was the happiest kid in the world. What had changed?
“Okay, I’ll be right there to pick her up.”
“What’s happened?” Bridget asked when he returned the receiver.
“I’m not sure. Apparently Leslie is very upset. She’s been crying.”
Her face was pale and tense. “What’s going on with our girls today?”
“I don’t know but I sure as hell intend to find out.”
* * *
They pulled up to the school in separate vehicles and walked inside together. Bridget prayed this wasn’t the end of the line for Rebecca and the Paradise high school.
When they reached the principal’s office they found both girls there. Leslie snuggled against Rebecca. Rebecca’s head was bowed, her shoulders slumped. Bridget’s heart ached at the dejection she saw in her daughter’s posture. It was as if she’d already given up.
When Leslie saw Jack, she jumped out of her chair and raced to him, throwing her arms around his waist. She started to cry.
“I hate this school! I wanna go home.”
He knelt to look into her face. “What happened, Leslie? Why are you crying?”
She shook her head. “I wanna go home!”
Bridget sat beside Rebecca. She continued to stare at the floor, her hair all but obscuring her face. “Honey, the principal said you hit a younger pupil. Is that true?”
“If they said so then it must be true.”
“I know you’re not the kind of person who goes around hitting younger kids. What happened?”
She lifted her head briefly and flashed a quick look at Leslie, who was still crying.
“Nothing.”
“For heaven’s sake, Rebecca. I can’t help you unless you tell me what happened.”
“Nobody’s going to believe me anyway, so what’s the point?”
“I’ll believe you, and so will Jack. Tell me.”
The principal opened the door to her office. “Please come in, Mrs. Grant. You too, Rebecca.”
“I’m going to take Leslie home,” Jack said. Bridget nodded.
The secretary handed him a plastic bag. “These are Leslie’s pants.”
“Her pants?”
The secretary glanced at Leslie’s tearstained face. “It’s no big deal. She had a little accident. One of the teachers loaned her the clothes she’s wearing. You can return them in a couple of days.”
He took the bag from the secretary and thanked her before taking Leslie by the hand and leading her out of the secretary’s office. Bridget saw the mortification on his face as they left the office and her heart ached for both of them.
She and Rebecca entered the principal’s office and sat across the desk from Ms. Stewart. “I wish we could meet under happier circumstances,” the principal said. “I’ve been very pleased with Rebecca’s progress up to now. She’s been working hard and her marks have shown it. Her behavior’s been good too. Until today.” She spoke to Rebecca. “Now that your mother’s here, do you want to tell me what happened?”
She pushed her hair behind one ear and glanced at the teacher. “I didn’t mean to push that kid so hard. It was an accident.”
“I kind of suspected it was an accident,” Ms. Stewart said gently. “Why were you in the elementary area of the school? You know high school kids aren’t supposed to hang out there.”
She bowed her head once more. “I know.”
First and Again Page 21
