"Suzy and I are fine," he said. And yet, ten minutes later, he found himself standing outside the door to Jackie's room, then stepping inside.
There was still a faint trace of her lily of the valley scent. He breathed it in. His knees nearly buckled, but he forced himself to stand up straight and keep moving.
There, on top of the dresser, was the bag that Jackie had used for her knitting. As if he couldn't stop himself, he reached inside and pulled out the finished soft yellow blanket. It was still crooked, still a bit lumpy in places, still a sad little thing, but he looked at every stitch and knew that each one of them had been knit with love. And knowing that, he knew that he had never seen any blanket more beautiful. Picking it up, he ran his fingers over the edges and thought of how much work and determination Jackie had put into this gift for her child.
His chest felt tight, his vision, blurred. He started to replace the blanket and realized that there was something else in the bag. Reaching in, he pulled out a note pinned to a navy blue scarf. For Steven, it read. Thank you for sharing.
As if he'd done something nice for her, as if he hadn't been a beast at the beginning.
"A scarf," he said, his voice thick. "Silly city girl. This is Florida. When would I ever wear a knitted scarf?"
But holding the soft yarn, remembering the pretty blue eyes of the woman who had labored over it, he could think of times when he would wear a scarf like this one. He might like to take Jackie to Vermont for Christmas. He might like to see her against the snow-topped trees, to make her laugh with a snowball fight, to lie with her in front of a fire. He could imagine holding her all night long as the snow shrouded the world around them…
He could dream of such things.
Steven took a deep breath. "Foolish, unrealistic, not possible," he said to himself. "Hell, I've got work to do. That's reality. That's what I need to concentrate on." And he put the blanket and scarf back where he had found them and left the room.
Jackie had been back at the resort for several days. Things should have started to return to normal, she thought as she went about getting ready for work. But despite the fact that she had managed to talk the donor of the Pollock out of taking it back, and the fact that she was making some progress with the auction, nothing felt right at all.
"Whew! Thank goodness you're back," Parris had told her when she had arrived, but Jackie couldn't seem to dredge up any enthusiasm for returning to the place where she belonged. What's more, she couldn't explain to Parris why she was so quiet and pale. She and Parris didn't talk about their feelings. They barely managed to talk at all most days.
"Are you feeling all right, Jackie? You look tired today," Ruthie Fernandez said, a worried look in her green eyes. Ruthie worked odd jobs at the resort. She and Jackie had come in contact often, and they had developed a friendship of sorts. Jackie had often noticed that Ruthie had sad eyes and that she never talked about her background—which suited Jackie just fine, since she didn't like to talk about herself, either. Ruthie had just brought Jackie some tea.
"Thank you, yes, Ruthie, I'm fine," Jackie began automatically, but then stopped and closed her eyes. "No, as a matter of fact, I'm not fine at all," she whispered. "I've done the most awful thing." The words slipped out as if she couldn't stop them.
For a minute Ruthie's eyes widened, no doubt because this personal comment was so unlike Jackie. But then the young woman recovered. She shook her head, her blond hair moving with her. "I don't believe it. We've talked often enough that I know you're not even capable of awful."
"But I am. These past couple of weeks, I've been off…"
"Visiting your daughter."
Jackie couldn't answer at first. The word daughter hung in the air. Finally, she shook her head. "I donated the eggs that helped create Suzy, but she was never mine. When her father came here to tell me about her, to ask me to sign papers relinquishing her, I…I blackmailed him into letting me see her and spend time with her."
Ruthie's brows raised, but she didn't look shocked. "Any mother would do the same, Jackie," she said gently.
"And then I fell in love with him when he had told me he didn't want to get involved ever again," Jackie said on a groan.
Ruthie moved closer and touched her friend's hair. "And your cowboy—does he love you, too?"
"I just told you—"
Ruthie shook her head and shushed Jackie. "You told me what he said. I want to know what he feels."
Jackie bit her lip. "He feels…desire. He doesn't feel love. And I…I'm afraid."
"Because you feel both?"
"Yes, and because I feel as if I've found something I've been searching for all my life, but it's unattainable."
Ruthie tutted and plumped a pillow on the bed. "You should tell him how you feel. You should go see him and the little one again. I don't like seeing you so sad."
Instantly, Jackie felt contrite. She touched Ruthie's hand. "I can't go see him. The truth is that I should never have insisted on seeing Suzy in the first place. I had no real right to her, and I had no right to burden you with my troubles. Friends don't do that."
Ruthie gave Jackie a small smile. "Friends share," she said, but Jackie noticed that Ruthie's eyes were sadder than usual and that she didn't offer to share any of her own troubles.
"I should just stick to work," Jackie said to herself after Ruthie had gone. "I should try to forget about Steven and Suzy and I definitely shouldn't discuss them with anyone else."
So when Merry came along later, Jackie was prepared to be as brief as possible, to make it clear that this wasn't a matter that was open to in-depth discussion. Merry had been asking pointed questions for days, and Jackie had taken to ducking down hallways when she saw her coming. No more.
"How is that handsome cowboy you were visiting?" Merry asked. "You haven't told me anything about your trip. Have you spoken with him?"
Jackie looked down at the papers on her desk. "I'm afraid I've been very busy. I haven't had much time for conversations since I've been back, Merry."
"And how about that little girl? You did say he had a little girl, didn't you?"
Sighing, Jackie looked up. "He has a daughter, yes. Why?"
"Just wondering. Women adore men with children. I'll bet he has plenty of women fighting for his attentions, don't you think?"
"I wouldn't know." Which was a lie. She remembered the playgroup incident all too well.
"Well," Merry said, shrugging, "now that he's seen La Torchere, maybe someday he'll come back here on his honeymoon. This is a wonderful atmosphere for romance."
Jackie clutched her pen hard—so hard, it was a miracle the darn thing didn't break. Breathe in, breathe out, she ordered herself. Don't show any emotion. Talk. Answer the woman. Satisfy her curiosity so she'll move on to another topic. But, "La Torchere is a wonderful place," was all she could manage to say.
"Jackie?" Merry said, and the smile slid from her face. She looked worried. "You are all right, aren't you? I haven't gotten the chance to really talk to you since you've been back, and I really didn't mean to make you sad."
Jackie managed a tight nod. "I'm fine, Merry. Thank you." But the words came out on a whisper, and she couldn't quite manage to smile.
Merry's eyes filled with concern. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, then finally shook her head. "I'll check in with you later," she promised, twisting her hands together as she left the room.
"Later," Jackie agreed, but she didn't want to think about later. When the work day ended and she had no paperwork to distract herself with, thoughts of Suzy and Steven drifted in. And later, when she went to sleep, she couldn't hold her dreams of Steven at bay. Dreams so wonderful, she woke up feeling empty, because dreams were the only way she could ever see him again.
"You just have to forget him," she told herself. "Take it one day at a time, one night at a time. Eventually, you'll be able to make it through a whole night without thinking of him even once."
That had to be her mantra fr
om now on.
There was no question, Merry thought, feeling a bit sick about her conversation with Jackie, but she had wanted to be sure. Now she was. Jackie was in love with Steven Rollins.
And Steven was miles away. Maybe he didn't feel the same way that Jackie did. To try to bring him here under such circumstances would be cruel to Jackie and probably to Steven, too. After the horse incident, she didn't want to risk hurting anyone. But she just couldn't let this drop.
Whipping out her cell phone, she stared at the screen until Rollins Acres appeared. Steven was on his horse out on the range, alone, doing his job, apparently just fine.
Then he turned, and she got a better view of him. He looked haggard, his normally broad shoulders drooped, his dark eyes were empty. No, not empty. Filled with despair.
"Please let it be love for Jackie," Merry whispered to herself as she flipped the phone closed. "Please don't let me make a mistake and hurt someone."
She disappeared into her office, telling her secretary that she was not to be disturbed. She needed to think this one out and come up with a plan.
Somehow she had to get them together in the same room. But, so far, all of her plans had gone awry, and she was feeling a little desperate…
"What do you mean, Suzy is sick?" Jackie felt her throat closing up, her heart beginning to pound like a heavy, relentless sledgehammer.
Merry shook her head. "I—I don't know." Her voice was tight, slightly uncertain. She wouldn't quite look at Jackie. "I took the call. For some reason, I couldn't get through to you. Your cowboy, Steven, said that it was urgent. He said that she was sick and that he wanted you to know…"
Merry's voice faded away, but it didn't matter. Jackie was already running from the conference room where Merry had found her. She headed for the nearest phone, her heart thudding in her ears. Suzy, her little girl. So ill that Steven had called to tell her about it? Jackie couldn't bear to think of how serious the situation must be.
She didn't even have to look up the number. She had almost called Steven in a weak moment yesterday, before reason had taken hold.
"Please be there," she whispered. "Please pick up."
Charlotte answered. Charlotte would know about Suzy. But Charlotte hadn't called Merry, and even if she had…
"Charlotte, is Steven there? This is Jackie. I need to talk to him if he is. Please."
"Jackie? Jackie?"
"Yes." She could barely get that one word out. Fear and nerves made her voice weak and small.
Fortunately, Charlotte was a smart woman. "Hold on," she said. "He's right here."
Jackie heard muffled whispering in the background. Charlotte must have placed her hand over the receiver.
"Jackie?" Steven's deep voice came over the line. Nothing had ever sounded so good. Except she couldn't feel good because Suzy…
"How is she?" Jackie asked suddenly. "Is she going to be all right?"
"Who? Jackie, darlin'…"
The unexpected endearment caught Jackie by surprise and right in the heart. For a moment she couldn't breathe. She almost couldn't think straight. "Merry said that you told her that Suzy was really sick. I called right away. I was so worried, so scared. She's so little and helpless. Steven, how bad is she? And how are you handling all this? I wish I were there helping you right now."
"Sick? Suzy? Jackie, hon," he said, his voice low and deep and soothing, "Suzy's just fine. There's not a thing wrong with her. I don't know why Merry would say that. I haven't even spoken to her since that day I picked you up at the resort."
"You haven't?" Confusion flooded Jackie's mind and then deep, dark embarrassment flowed in. Steven probably thought she was just playing some kind of dumb game. Like those women at the playgroup.
"I'm…forgive me for calling. I'm so sorry," she began. "I don't know why Merry told me that, but I… well, I feel like a complete idiot. Please, just forget I even called. Goodbye, Steven."
She rushed to hang up the phone. For a second, she thought she heard Steven yell "Wait!" but then she placed the receiver back in the cradle and moved away as if the phone were on fire.
She covered her face with her hands. "What was that about?" she whispered. "What must he think of me now?"
And then she allowed herself to remember how it had felt to hear his voice. For five seconds she closed her eyes and concentrated on Steven's voice and what it did to her. It filled her soul, made her whole, even if just for a short time.
What had Merry been doing? Jackie shook her head. She regretted looking like an idiot, but she didn't regret having had the chance to hear his voice one more time. Maybe she should thank Merry for her lie.
"Oh, what a pathetic creature you are, Jackie Hammond," she whispered. "Mooning after a man's voice on the telephone, even when you called him for a made-up reason." She moaned in frustration and hugged her arms tightly around her body. How long was she going to be this way, and when was she going to start getting better? And what was it that Merry had been trying to do?
She had a terrible feeling that she knew. She just hoped that Steven didn't suspect there had been matchmaking going on.
Steven stood staring at the receiver as the silent phone mocked him. She was gone. Here unexpectedly and then just…gone. And he felt as though he wanted to crawl right through the telephone lines to get to her.
He felt as though life was going to lose its meaning if he didn't at least hear her, see her, taste her one more time.
"Why did she think Suzy was sick?" Charlotte asked, frowning in confusion.
"I don't know. Something Merry, the resort manager, told her. I don't get it."
But Charlotte was looking speculative.
"What?"
"Did you meet this Merry?"
"Sure. She took me to Jackie when I met her at the resort. Set us up in some secluded little place on the beach surrounded by palm trees." And with a double hammock, he remembered, swallowing hard, wishing he had Jackie and that double hammock close at hand right now.
"Merry took you somewhere so you could be alone with Jackie?"
"Yes, we were going to talk business."
"Business? In a secluded place on the beach?" Charlotte sounded skeptical.
"Yeah, it was kind of unusual, but nice," he said, and he remembered Jackie's pretty blue eyes. What he wouldn't give to have one more chance to talk business with her. Or talk about anything with her.
"And now she's back at the resort," Charlotte said, "worried sick about that baby. And that baby is…"
"Fretful," Charlotte and Steven both said at once, and Charlotte smiled. "And you're—"
"Miserable," Steven said.
"That Merry, what a liar," Charlotte said, but she didn't sound upset.
"Terrible woman," Steven agreed. "I think I might have to go to La Torchere and give her a piece of my mind. Pack some clothes for yourself and Suzy, Charlotte. I might need your help."
"Telling Merry off?"
"Not exactly." But he didn't elaborate further, and Charlotte didn't ask.
Steven paced inside the bower, as much as it was possible to pace inside a space that small. He tugged at his red silk tie and tried not to be nervous. What in heck was taking the woman so long, anyway?
Then he heard voices. "Merry, from now on if there are customers to see me, I'd just as soon meet them in my office."
"You don't like our bowers?"
"I do. They're beautiful. It's just that they're a little…"
Jackie's voice was so close. Steven leaned outside the bower, took her hand and pulled her inside with him. She gasped and he smiled down into her eyes. "They're a little too romantic for business," he said, continuing to gaze into those pretty blue eyes.
"Steven!"
"None other."
She shook her head. "I don't understand. I—" And then those blue eyes filled with concern. "There is something wrong with Suzy, isn't there? You just didn't want to scare me by telling me over the telephone."
He shook his head, mental
ly kicking himself for scaring her. "There's nothing wrong with Suzy, not in the way you mean. She's completely healthy, but she does miss you."
Jackie closed her eyes. "You're just saying that."
"No." He took a step closer. He thought her breath hitched up a bit, but then maybe that was just wishful thinking. "She hugs her teddy bears tighter these days. That's a sure sign that something's not completely right. And my stories aren't nearly as good as yours are. She needs you, Jackie. She needs…her mother."
He was hoping to make her smile, but instead her eyes filled with tears that broke his heart to bits.
"Don't," he said. "Please. I'm not lying, Jackie. I came partly to let you know that I've torn up that paper that you signed. I'm not going to ask you to give up your rights to Suzy. It's a done deal. Suzy is your child, too, and I want my daughter to have you in her life, a woman who loves her and will always be there for her." He stroked his palm down her cheek.
"She has Charlotte."
"She needs both of you."
"Steven," Jackie said on a choked whisper, "you are such a good man, such a good father."
"No." He shook his head. "Because if I were a good man, I wouldn't have told you that before I told you what I really came here for."
Jackie tilted her head, confusion in her eyes.
He held up one hand. "I just want you to know that no matter what, Suzy remains your daughter. Michelle carried her and she'll always be a part of Suzy, but you gave her life, you loved her. I won't ever interfere with that or seek to bar you from her."
"Steven, are you very sure?" Her voice trembled. She clutched the back of a chair.
"I've never been more sure of anything."
"And I've never been given a greater gift. I promise you that I will treasure every moment you ever allow me with her, and I'll never do anything that could possibly hurt her."
Their Little Cowgirl Page 13
