The Forgiven

by Amanda Stevens

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Naomi shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Alex leaned toward her over the table. “Did he hurt you?”

  The undercurrent of violence in his voice took Naomi by surprise. “N-no.”

  “What did he want?”

  “He wanted to warn me not to get between Taryn and her destiny.”

  “He said that?” A muscle in his jaw started to throb. “What else did he say?”

  “He gave me a Bellamy family history lesson. He said that Aubree was destined for great things, and now that she’s dead, it’s up to Taryn to carry on the dynasty.”

  Alex swore. “I was afraid of something like this. I let her see him when we first moved back to New Orleans, even though I knew it was a mistake. He started filling her head with lies about the past, building Aubree up into this saintly image while he tried to tear me down in my own daughter’s eyes. That’s why Taryn is so fascinated by Aubree all of sudden. It’s his doing.”

  “I suppose it’s only natural that he would want her to remember her mother in a favorable light,” Naomi said.

  “Aubree had no favorable light.”

  Naomi was shocked by the bitterness in his voice. He must have realized how he’d come across, because he said in a conciliatory tone, “That wasn’t fair. Aubree had her good points. She was beautiful and brilliant and she could be charming when the mood struck her. And she was a good mother. It’s just that...” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “There was so much bitterness toward the last, it’s hard to remember that there was once love between us.”

  “I understand,” Naomi murmured. She felt a twinge of something in her stomach that, if she hadn’t known better, she might have thought was jealousy. She was beautiful and brilliant...

  “I know Joseph has been phoning Taryn behind my back. I think she’s even been sneaking off to see him. He’s poisoning her mind against me, but if I try to keep her from him, I come off looking like the bad guy.” He drew a long, weary breath. “Joseph is planning something. I know that. I’m afraid Taryn is going to be caught in the middle of something very ugly. And now here you are, trying to claim a piece of my daughter, too.”

  His words sent a dagger through Naomi’s heart. “I don’t want to hurt Taryn.”

  “So you keep saying,” he said in frustration. “But how do you think she’ll feel if she learns that Aubree wasn’t her birth mother—”

  Naomi cut him off. “You believe me,” she said almost in wonder.

  Alex, who had been lifting his drink, froze. “I beg your pardon.”

  “You believe me,” she repeated. “That’s why you’re so worried. That’s why you’re telling me all this. Down deep inside, you know Taryn is my daughter.”

  Emotions, dark and primal, flashed across his features before he got himself under control. But there was still something in his eyes, something he couldn’t quite subdue. “Taryn is my daughter. I will never believe anything to the contrary.”

  “Then why not agree to the DNA test? If you’re so certain, what could it hurt?”

  Angrily he waved off the waiter who had come to take dinner orders. “Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said? What I’ve been trying to do is make you realize how vulnerable my daughter is right now. She doesn’t need any more upheaval in her life. A DNA test is out of the question.”

  Now it was Naomi who leaned across the table toward him. “Please.” Her hand reached out and closed over his on the table. For a moment, the feel of his skin against hers sent a thrill of awareness racing through her nervous system. But then he pulled his hand away, his gaze icy.

  “You’re asking too much of me,” he said in a low, harsh tone.

  Naomi sat back. “Think of it from my perspective. I didn’t give my daughter up for adoption. I didn’t abandon her. She was taken from me. Stolen from me. All these years I thought she was dead, and now to find out that she’s alive, to know that I can see her, touch her, hold her in my arms...” She paused as emotions threatened to overcome her. “I know I’m asking a lot. But it’s only because I’ve lost so much. This...hope is all I have left. She’s all I have left.”

  For a moment, she thought, prayed, she’d gotten through to him, but then his mouth hardened as he glanced away from her. “I’m not without sympathy. Believe me, I’m not. And, yes, I can see your point. But think of this from Taryn’s perspective. Would you take her away from the only family she’s ever known? Would you do that to her?” When Naomi made a tiny sound of protest, his gaze swung back to hers. “That’s what you’re proposing, isn’t it? That she give up everything for you?”

  Naomi put trembling fingers to her lips. “You make it sound so selfish.”

  His expression seemed to momentarily soften. “I don’t think you’re selfish. Far from it. I just don’t think you’ve taken the time to consider the whole picture.” He paused, then said reluctantly, “What if I let you see her?”

  Naomi’s heart quickened with hope. “What do you mean?”

  He looked as if he was already regretting his hasty offer. He frowned down into his drink. “I can arrange a meeting. A dinner. You can spend some time with her, satisfy yourself that she’s a normal, healthy, teenage girl who’s being well taken care of. Who has a father who loves her very much. Would that be enough?”

  No, Naomi thought. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. But it was a start. And she would be able to see her daughter. Talk to her. A week ago, she would not have thought that possible.

  Her throat ached with emotion, and she nodded. “I’d like that.”

  He drew a breath. “All right. I’ll set something up for tomorrow night, on one condition. You have to give me your word that you won’t say anything to Taryn. If you let something slip, even by mistake, she would be devastated.”

  “You must know I wouldn’t do that,” Naomi said, “or else you would never have agreed to let me see her.”

  * * *

  WHAT THE HELL had he been thinking? Alex wondered the next evening as he drove toward the French Quarter. Why on earth had he ever agreed to let his daughter within a hundred yards of Naomi Cross? He had only her word that she wouldn’t blurt something out to Taryn, and just because he’d trusted her last night to keep her promise didn’t mean that he should have. Or that she would. He’d regretted his decision all day, but it was too late now to change his mind. If he backed out, there was no telling what Naomi might do.

  And as for Taryn, her attitude did not bode well for a pleasant evening.

  He glanced at her as she sat with a sullen frown, staring out the window. She hadn’t wanted to come tonight, and when he’d finally put his foot down, she’d stomped off to her room to change, only to reemerge a few minutes later, defiant in low-cut jeans and a cropped shirt that not only revealed her bare, tanned midriff, but a belly-button ring Alex had known nothing about. He’d just about hit the roof over that one.

  He’d ranted and raved and promised dire consequences to follow, but by then, they’d been running so late, all he could make her do was throw a jacket over her getup and hope for the best. As for her makeup—

  Don’t even get me started on that, Alex grumbled to himself.

  He was badly losing control here, he thought as he found a rare parking place on the street and slid into it. Maybe Foley hadn’t been so far off base the day before. Maybe Alex should have remarried a long time ago. Maybe a woman’s influence was exactly what Taryn needed right now. She had Louise, of course, but the dour housekeeper was no substitute for a mother.

  And if Aubree had lived? That was easy, Alex thought grimly. He would have had absolutely no control over Taryn’s life whatever. Joseph would have seen to that.

  He glanced at her again, and in spite of their earlier blowup, a wave of tenderness rolled over him. She wanted so badly to grow up, to be independent, and he wanted just as fiercely to keep her a child. He didn’t want to lose her. Not to Joseph Bellamy, not to Naomi, not to some you
ng man who would one day steal her heart. He loved her, belly-button ring and all, and there was nothing she could do to ever change that.

  Silently they got out of the car and walked down Decatur, toward Jackson Square. The streets, as always, were alive with people heading to the French Market or one of the dozens of restaurants in the area. As they walked along, Alex didn’t much care for the looks Taryn received, the occasional catcalls that came her way, but she seemed to enjoy the attention, tossing her head so that her dark hair flowed over her shoulders. It was a practiced move, and one, to Alex’s way of thinking, far too mature for a fifteen-year-old.

  He had the urge to whisk her home, lock her in her room and not let her out until she turned twenty-one. Or thirty-five. But like it or not, his little girl was growing up and she was, to his chagrin, quite a knockout.

  Naomi was already seated when they arrived at the restaurant, and she rose to greet them as they entered. Her gaze flickered over Alex in brief acknowledgment, then moved to Taryn and lingered. When she looked at Taryn, the expression on Naomi’s face almost took Alex’s breath away. It was as if someone had turned on a light somewhere inside her. She looked positively radiant.

  He tore his gaze from Naomi and glanced around. The attention Taryn had gotten on the street was nothing compared to the unsolicited admiration that came Naomi’s way. Heads turned—literally—and although the clientele was much too refined for catcalls, Alex knew what every man in the place was thinking. If only I had a woman like that waiting for me.

  She wore a simple black dress, unadorned and devastating on her tall, graceful frame. Her short dark hair had been combed until it gleamed in the restaurant’s subtle lighting, and her brown eyes had been made up just enough to look intriguing, her lips just enough to look...kissable.

  She was without a doubt the most gorgeous woman Alex had ever seen in his life. And she seemed completely unaffected by it, which only added to her appeal, her charm, and to the faintly resentful stares she received from women who were seated nearby.

  Next to him, he saw Taryn stiffen slightly, as if, even at fifteen, she was already wary of competition. A frown flitted across her brow as she stared at Naomi, but then she tossed her head, flinging her hair, and allowed Alex to lead her to the table.

  As they approached, Naomi seemed to melt back into her seat, as if her legs would no longer hold her. “Hello,” she said in a soft, breathless voice that did unexpected things to Alex’s insides.

  He braced himself, his hand still on his daughter’s elbow. “Hello,” he said. “Naomi Cross, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Taryn.”

  Naomi put out her hand to Taryn and, after only a slight hesitation, Taryn accepted it. But then almost at once she drew her hand back and sat down. A waiter instantly appeared to take their drink orders.

  “I’ll have a bourbon,” Taryn announced.

  “Make that a Coke,” Alex said dryly. “Naomi?”

  “A Coke sounds good to me, too.”

  “I’ll take the bourbon,” he said to the waiter.

  “Well,” Naomi said nervously, glancing at Taryn. She didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. Finally she clasped them in her lap, but Alex noticed that they were trembling. This was not going to be an easy night for any of them. “You must be what, a sophomore in school, Taryn?”

  When Taryn merely shrugged, Alex said, “She goes to St. Anne’s Academy.”

  Something flickered in Naomi’s eyes, but she smiled. “How do you like it there?”

  “I hate it. It’s an all-girl school.” Taryn shot Alex a bitter look. “His idea, not mine.”

  “It’s an excellent school,” Alex said. “We were lucky to get her in. The waiting list is pretty formidable.”

  Taryn rolled her eyes, reaching for the bread the waiter had placed on the table. Rather than eating it, however, she plucked little pieces from the crust and left them on her bread plate.

  “What’s your favorite subject?” Naomi asked, obviously grasping for a connection. Alex almost felt sorry for her.

  “Science, I guess,” Taryn mumbled with a shrug.

  Naomi brightened. “Really? I always loved science, too. In fact, there was a time when I wanted to be a doctor.”

  Alex felt something tighten inside him. Until recently, Taryn had always talked of being a doctor, too. Coincidence or genes that she and Naomi shared a common interest?

  “So why didn’t you? Become a doctor, I mean,” Taryn asked reluctantly.

  Naomi seemed at a loss for a moment. She shrugged her thin shoulders. “Things happened. My plans had to change. I never even went to college,” she said with deep regret.

  She’d gotten pregnant, Alex thought.

  “Where do you plan to go to college?” Naomi was asking Taryn. “Or is it still too early to think about that?”

  “I’m hoping she’ll consider Tulane,” Alex said.

  “I’m not going to Tulane,” Taryn announced flatly. “I may not go to college at all.”

  Alex fought back his irritation. There’d never been any question of her going to college. They’d talked about it for years, and she’d always been just as enthusiastic as he. He knew she was deliberately trying to goad him tonight, and he wasn’t going to rise to her bait. “We’ll discuss that later,” he said. “Maybe Miss Cross would enjoy hearing about your hobby.”

  “Oh, I would.” Naomi trained an expectant gaze on Taryn. “What kind of hobby do you have?”

  “I raise butterflies.”

  Taryn’s hobby usually elicited a host of delighted responses, but instead of exclaiming about the charm and novelty of such a pastime, Naomi didn’t say a word as her face went almost completely white. She looked as if she’d just been given some devastating news, a piece of information she didn’t quite know what to make of.

  She lifted her hand, to do what, Alex had no idea, and her fingers bumped against her water glass. The glass tipped, but Alex’s hand shot out to right it before more than a drop or two of water spilled. Naomi seemed hardly to notice.

  She shoved back her chair and stood. “I...would you excuse me for a moment?”

  Alex half stood, too, and nodded. “Of course. Are you all right?”

  But Naomi turned and fled without a word. He watched her hurry toward the back of the restaurant, say something to a waitress, then moments later, disappear down a hallway that he presumed led to the ladies’ room.

  “Well,” Taryn said beside him. “I guess she doesn’t like butterflies.”

  “I guess not,” Alex murmured, his gaze never leaving the spot where he’d last seen Naomi Cross.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Naomi barely noticed her elegant surroundings—the black marble sinks and floor, the gold and aqua wallpaper, the pale pink lighting. She sat down on a black-and-aqua striped stool and stared at herself in the mirror. But it wasn’t her pale reflection she saw staring back. Her mind had gone backward in time, to a summer afternoon in her own backyard.

  “Look, Mama! They came back!” Sadie called excitedly. “Just like you said they would.”

  Naomi smiled as she watched the orange-and-black Monarchs cluster around the butterfly bush she and Sadie had planted earlier that spring. “They always come back,” she told her daughter. “Just like magic.”

  One landed in the palm of Sadie’s hand, and her expression looked positively enraptured. “Aren’t they beautiful, Mama?”

  The memory faded away, and Naomi was left staring at her own reflection in the mirror. She blinked, barely recognizing the drawn, tense face, the shadowed eyes. Somehow, she’d expected to see herself the way she’d been that day with Sadie—young, carefree, happy. But ten years had passed since that day, a decade of pain that was now etched in Naomi’s face. She closed her eyes.

  The door opened and Taryn stepped through. “My dad sent me in here to make sure you’re okay. Are you sick?” Her voice sounded more wary than concerned.

  Naomi managed a weak smile. Her hands were trembling so
she clasped them in her lap. “No, I’m okay. I just felt a little light-headed.”

  “Yeah,” Taryn said dryly. “My dad seems to have that effect on some people.” She walked over to the vanity and sat down on a stool beside Naomi.

  Naomi’s heart started to pound. She was so close to her daughter. So very close...

  “You’ve noticed it, haven’t you?” Taryn’s gaze met hers in the mirror. “The way women stare at him, I mean?” She paused. “What’s going on between the two of you?”

  “Nothing...we’re just...acquaintances.”

  “You’re more than that,” Taryn insisted. “He wouldn’t have dragged me out to dinner to meet you if he didn’t have a thing for you. And he sure wouldn’t be sitting out there worrying about you.”

  Naomi’s chest tightened and her stomach fluttered uncomfortably. The conversation had badly unnerved her. She didn’t know what to say.

  “Well,” Taryn said, rising from her stool. “I’ve done my duty. You seem to be okay so I’m going to go back out there and give him a report.”

  Without thinking, Naomi caught her arm. “Don’t go yet.”

  Taryn looked at her strangely. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m enjoying talking to you,” Naomi said truthfully, although she realized to Taryn her answer must sound lame.

  Taryn frowned, but she grudgingly sat back down. Their gazes met again in the mirror. “Have we met somewhere before?”

  Naomi’s heart thudded against her chest. Had Taryn seen her at the school yesterday afternoon? Or through the tinted window of her grandfather’s car? Or was she experiencing something else, a bond she wasn’t even aware of?

  Naomi swallowed. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. I’m not from New Orleans.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I like to come here every chance I get. I love this city.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” Taryn agreed. “My mother’s family has lived here for generations. My mother was even a Mardi Gras queen or princess or something when she was not much older than me. She got to wear a real diamond tiara and ride on one of those huge floats.”