A Mother's Secret

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “I hope you didn’t wait long.”

  He shook his head.

  “Come on in.” She led the way.

  He felt as though he had to say something. “You must spend a fortune on birthday presents,” was what came out.

  Rebecca gave him a wry smile over her shoulder as she unlocked the front door. “You’re not kidding. At this age, kids mostly invite all their classmates to their parties. Mustn’t hurt anyone’s feelings, you know. Malcolm likes to pick out the presents for his best friends, but otherwise I keep an eye out for sales and usually have a couple of toys on hand.” She continued toward the kitchen, letting him shut the door. “Coffee?”

  “Uh…”

  But she’d already disappeared into the kitchen. He followed her there, too.

  The coffeemaker on the countertop was burbling. She must have set the timer before she left. She poured two cups, pushed one toward him, stirred sugar into hers without offering him any, and then looked at him.

  “What’s this about, Daniel?”

  I love you. Marry me.

  Too abrupt.

  He leaned one hip against the counter edge. “I meant what I said, about not giving up.”

  She watched him, her face unreadable.

  “I went through my mother’s stuff last week. She’d kept a box of letters. Some from her first husband, from old friends.”

  There was a discernible pause. Was she interested at all? But finally, as if she couldn’t help herself, she asked, “Did you learn anything?”

  “Not as much as I hoped,” he admitted. “I wish I had the letters she wrote.”

  Had her expression softened, or was it his imagination?

  “Some mysteries might be better left unsolved,” she suggested, cradling her coffee cup in her hands. Steam rose, and she dipped her head to breathe it in.

  “Maybe.”

  “Did you hope to find out why she gave your sister up? And whether she knew who your father was?”

  He grimaced. “A little of both.” Okay, deep breath. “I realized the other day that what I wanted to find out most was whether she’d actually loved me.”

  Rebecca blinked, then set down her cup. “You said she wasn’t especially maternal, but surely…?”

  “She said ‘I love you’ sometimes? She signed notes ‘Love, Mom.’ Does that count?” God, did that sound pathetic. He made an impatient gesture. “Before she died, she told me she loved me. I just didn’t believe her.”

  After a shocked moment, Rebecca asked, “And now?”

  “And now I think she did, but not the way she would have if she’d known I was Robert Carson’s son.”

  “That’s…awful.”

  He shook his head. “I’m just trying to explain why love is a hard concept for me. I had a pretty screwed-up childhood.”

  She didn’t have to say that hers hadn’t been a piece of cake, either. And there was the irony: thanks to parents with broken hearts and blinders on, they were both wary people more inclined to assume love didn’t exist, or if it did it was a problem, than to believe in happily-ever-after.

  “When you got pregnant,” he said, “why didn’t you tell me?”

  Her gaze slid from his. “We’ve already gone through this.”

  “Didn’t you wonder why, if I was losing interest in you, I also made love with you like…” He half laughed, without humor. “Like I couldn’t live without you? Wouldn’t be able to get up in the morning if I didn’t have you that night?”

  Now she was looking at him, but maybe not at the him in the here and now. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

  “But…?”

  “I was scared.” Her eyes, huge and dark, gradually focused on him. “And you weren’t calling as often.” She gave an odd shrug. “I suppose I expected the worst.”

  “That I’d be your father reincarnated?”

  She gave a pitiful excuse for a laugh. “Oh, even worse. That I’d be my mother reincarnated.”

  He took that in. “So let me ask you something else.”

  She worried her lower lip with her teeth, but she nodded.

  “Did you think you were in love with me? Back then?”

  He lost the ability to breathe as she stared at him, seemingly stricken.

  “I…yes.” She bowed her head, concentrating fiercely on her coffee. “Of course I did. I have never had casual sexual relationships.”

  “But you weren’t a virgin when we met.”

  “No, but I’d gone to bed with only two men before. One was my college boyfriend, one not long after. I was serious about both of them at the time.”

  “You thought you were in love with them, too.” His voice was hard.

  “Yes.” Her chin rose at last, her neck seeming longer in her defiance. “But I knew the difference later, when…”

  He took a step closer to her. “When?”

  “When I met you.”

  “You’re the one who said love meant holding on. Not giving up.” He let a silence open. “Why did you give up on me, Rebecca?”

  “I told you!” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I was scared!”

  He reached out and gripped her upper arms, his hands kneading gently. “Scared for Malcolm? Or for yourself?”

  She sniffed, the sound forlorn and almost childish. “Both, I suppose.” She wiped her cheeks. “Daniel, what are you saying? That I’m a lousy one to talk about love, when I’m obviously not capable of it?”

  “No.” His chest burned. “I’m trying to ask whether you do love me. Whether you can.”

  She went completely still for a long moment, then searched his eyes, her own revealing…God. He couldn’t tell. Only that the gold flecks in her eyes shimmered. “What do you mean, can?”

  Truth time. He sucked in a ragged breath. “I mean, somewhere along the way these past three weeks, while I, uh, did some self-examination, I got to wondering whether my real problem was being afraid to love someone, or whether the bigger issue was that I didn’t believe anyone could love me.”

  She gaped at him. Then her mouth snapped shut and her eyes blazed with pity, or love or indignation. Maybe with all three. She lifted her hands to cradle his face. In a voice that shook, Rebecca said, “How can you even wonder? Growing up the way you did, and you’re still a strong, confident, successful man! I did think I loved you, back then. And maybe I did, but it was nothing compared to what I felt when I realized how determined you were to make sure Malcolm had a father. And when I saw you with him, that first day when we went to the beach. You were somehow exactly what he needed, even though you never had a role model. You wanted something different for him than what you had, and somehow you knew how to give it.”

  God help him, his cheeks were wet. He turned his head, pressing his mouth against her palm, letting tears drip onto her hand.

  “I never forgot you,” she told him in a broken voice. “But it was that day when I fell painfully, irrevocably the rest of the way in love with you. And knew I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t love me.”

  She was the one to wrap her arms around him and hold him as close as she could. He gripped her convulsively, face buried in the curve of her neck. His mouth worked as he tried to get a grip on himself.

  They just stood there in the damn kitchen, rocking slightly, holding each other. Daniel felt light-headed, stunned. She loved him. Despite his idiocy, despite his fears, despite everything he’d put her through, she loved him.

  He finally loosened his grip enough to look down at her. “A couple of months ago, I’d have said I didn’t cry.”

  Rebecca rose on tiptoe and kissed his wet cheek. “You do love me, don’t you?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “You know, I had just about decided to call and accept your offer. To…gamble that you could learn. Or maybe to trade the chance to have a few years with you for the heartbreak I expected later. I’m not sure.”

  “No heartbreak.” He kissed her forehead, nuzzled his nose against hers. “I couldn’t stand it if you
ever left me. These last weeks…” He had to stop and clear his throat. “Without you…”

  “Were the absolute worst of my life,” she finished for him. Her brown eyes were the color of melted chocolate dusted with gold. Tears sparkled like diamonds on her lashes. Tears that were a hell of a lot more precious to him than the supposed heart of the Carson family.

  He thought again how beautiful that pendant would look against her smooth skin, and knew she would never wear it. There was apparently no denying that he was Robert Carson’s son; maybe he and these disparate relatives would all find a way to feel like family. But he’d never be wholeheartedly a Carson, and neither he nor Rebecca were the ones to guard the family’s heritage.

  In that moment, looking down at the face of the woman he loved, he knew who that person was. Decided he’d happily hand it over.

  He kissed Rebecca, not with passion, although he felt that, too. But this was about love. Their lips brushed, clung, tasted. He pulled back a couple of times just to see her face again.

  She loved him. Incredible.

  Believe it.

  Finally he straightened and reached in his pocket. “Maybe I should wait, but I’m not a patient man.”

  She laughed at him. Then she saw what lay in his palm, and gasped.

  “Will you marry me?” he asked again, newly afraid he was assuming too much.

  “Yes!” Fresh tears filled her eyes and spilled over. “Oh, yes!” She flung herself back in his arms, pressed her mouth to his.

  This time, raw hunger roared through him. He needed her, in the most elemental way possible. Groaning, Daniel strained her against him and devoured her mouth.

  At last he ripped away from her long enough to say, “I want you.”

  “I want you, too.”

  She glowed, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. His. No if this time.

  Seal the deal.

  He barely had the self-restraint to reach for her left hand and slide the ring on it. When it fit perfectly, Daniel felt triumph. He’d studied the fingers of every woman who came in the jewelry store to come up with a size. They’d all smiled and indulged him. He didn’t like the idea of the symbolism if the damn thing had been too big and fallen off, or wouldn’t go on in the first place.

  She looked down, too, at the fire refracting from the solitaire oval-cut diamond set in gold. “It’s exquisite.”

  “We can get a different ring if you’d like.”

  Rebecca lifted her head, her smile tremulous. “Daniel, this ring is every woman’s dream. You’re not getting it off my finger now.”

  “Good.” The word was barely a growl. He lifted her in his arms and headed for her bedroom.

  If she said yes today, he had meant to make love to her so slowly, so tenderly, she couldn’t help but feel cherished. But they hadn’t even reached the bedroom before she was shoving his shirt off and nipping his neck. He dropped her on the bed and went down on top of her, one knee braced between her thighs. They broke apart only long enough to shed clothes and toss them like confetti. She was wet and ready, and he had to be inside her.

  But he groaned as he nudged her. “I meant to go slow.”

  Her legs wrapped him, tightening, pulling him in. “Please, please, don’t. I want you now.”

  He plunged. Heaven, wrapped in one woman. How had he ever doubted?

  “I love you,” he said hoarsely, and gave himself over to her.

  REBECCA LAY IN A STATE of bliss. She couldn’t breathe, but who cared? It was Daniel’s weight bearing down on her, Daniel rubbing his cheek against her tangled hair, Daniel still whispering words of love in her ear.

  What if she hadn’t run from him five years ago? Would he have been ready to recognize that he was in love? Or would he have grudgingly married her, and strained against the chains that bound him? He had changed in those years, she thought, but then so had she. So maybe, after all, this had been perfect timing.

  He made a ragged sound and rolled to the side, his arms still tight around her. She laid her head on his shoulder and splayed her hand on his powerful chest. She found herself gazing at the ring he’d put on her finger.

  It had to be the biggest diamond Rebecca had ever seen. She might have protested, except she suspected it mattered to him to be able to afford to give her something so extraordinary. She found it astonishing that, given his self-doubt, he had still become the man he was.

  “I can hardly wait to tell Malcolm,” she murmured.

  The large, calloused hand that had been kneading her hip paused. “How long until you have to pick him up?”

  “Um…” She turned her head to see the clock. “One hour. Well, I should go in fifty minutes.”

  “We shouldn’t waste the time.”

  Rebecca giggled. She hadn’t felt so young and carefree in what seemed a lifetime. “We’re cuddling. Is that wasting time?”

  “No.” He shifted again, this time onto his side so he could kiss her. “No time with you is wasted,” he said against her lips. “I don’t want to be without you anymore, Rebecca.”

  Caressing his hard cheek, she said, “I do have to finish out the school year.”

  “I assumed so.” He studied her. “Will you want to keep teaching?”

  “Yes, for now.” Rebecca hesitated, unsure for the first time. “You haven’t said…But if we decide…”

  “To have another kid?”

  She nodded.

  “Oh, I want another one. Or two. I missed so much. This time I’ll be there every step of the way.”

  Guilt assailed her. “I’m sorry.”

  “No.” Daniel shook his head. “Who is to say we’d have made it five years ago. We go on from here with me thanking God every day that I found you again.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes filled with tears, blurring that craggy face reshaped in lines of tenderness she didn’t remember. “It was the luckiest day of my life.”

  With one thumb, he gently wiped away the tears as they fell. “Why don’t we commute for now between our houses? Part of the week in San Francisco, part down here. Make it fair.” He hesitated. “Or maybe you want to stay down here long-term.”

  “No. Oh, no!” Rebecca pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I love your house! And Half Moon Bay…well, this is where I made a home, but not where I really wanted to be. That was always with you.”

  “Malcolm will miss his friends.”

  “He’ll make new ones,” she said firmly. “And personally…” She lowered her voice. “I can’t stand Chace.”

  She’d surprised a rumble from him.

  “He looked like a whiner.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “He is a whiner. Our son can do better.”

  He kissed her again, lingeringly, nipping at her bottom lip. “Malcolm is heading toward five.”

  “Uh-huh.” Now her thoughts were blurring. She touched her tongue to his.

  His voice got rougher. “Pregnancy takes nine months.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Unless we want a huge gap between children,” he kissed her deeply, pulled back to look down into her eyes, “we might want to get on with it.”

  She felt a surge of desire.

  “Pregnancy?” she said breathlessly. “Or getting married?”

  He pulled back just enough to watch her for a reaction. “Both.”

  He was still afraid, she realized. Maybe they both would be for a long time. But the idea of making love with the intention of creating a baby, of carrying his child, of seeing him holding his infant son or daughter, filled her with a rush of desire and joy all swirled together.

  “Yes. I love you,” she said simply.

  Growling something under his breath, he dragged her on top of him and kissed her with ravenous hunger. “I swear,” he said, before or after he’d buried himself in her, “someday we’ll take our time.”

  But not today.

  EPILOGUE

  FEELING IT WAS HIS DUTY and obligation, Daniel made some effort to get to know Sam Carson. Part of him reb
elled; Adam was his brother, not this stranger. The only brother he wanted.

  But facts were facts. They shared a father, they shared blood.

  Losing his wife seemed to have chastened Sam some.

  “Isabelle told me,” he said, that first time Daniel phoned. After a minute, he added, “I suppose there’s no chance this blood test is wrong.”

  Since his voice held resignation rather than real doubt or rage, Daniel was amused. “Men are convicted of murder based on those same blood tests. Police departments all over the country would be surprised to find out DNA testing is unreliable.”

  “Then I suppose you are my brother,” Sam said grudgingly. “I keep thinking there can’t be any more surprises, and then there are.”

  Daniel understood that thinking. “My guess is, we’re out of surprises. Unless…” He stopped himself.

  But Sam read his mind. “Dad had yet another woman on the side?”

  Made sense the thought had occurred to him of all people, given that Sam was known, during the course of his marriage, to have had a number of women on the side himself.

  But he went on, as if he were shaking his head even as he spoke, “I don’t think so. Years ago, he gave me hell…” He stopped himself, likely remembering that Daniel might not be privy to all the family dirty linen. “He was straitlaced in most ways. And he and Mom…No. I wouldn’t believe it.”

  “And yet.”

  “And yet,” he agreed, with a sigh.

  Sam didn’t say, Welcome to the family, but he didn’t outright reject Daniel the way he had Adam, either. And Daniel kept remembering Billy Fraser’s war medal Sam had paid quite a bit of money to buy from Adam, then laid in Adam’s coffin. He must have softened, started thinking about family. What other explanation was there for him giving the medal back, letting Adam take it in death?

  Sam called Daniel not two weeks after that first conversation and suggested lunch at his club. Daniel smiled and agreed.