He ignored the sting of desire and let her lean away. He thought again about asking her to marry him. Then he swore to himself that this time he was going to be careful because he wouldn't let her steal his heart again.
Chapter Three
The following evening, Eloise answered Jake's knock. "Jake. Sara's not here. Was she expecting you?"
"No. I thought I'd drop by and take her and Christopher for ice cream." He also wanted to tell her that he'd set up an expense fund for Christopher. Getting to know his son had been his main preoccupation during the last few weeks. But yesterday after the auction, he'd realized the proceeds from it wouldn't last Sara very long.
"You can come in if you'd like. She had a few errands."
"Christopher went with her?"
"Those two are inseparable. I guess it's because...hmm, well...it doesn't matter. Anyway, they shouldn't be too much longer. It's soon Christopher's bedtime."
"You don't mind if I wait? I have a few things I'd like to discuss with Sara."
"Of course, I don't mind. I like the company. I'm going to miss those two when they move out. But I know Sara. As soon as she finds a job, she'll find a place of their own."
A place of their own. The two of them are inseparable. Jake's heart ached, the same ache he'd felt since he'd seen Sara again, since she'd told him they had a son, since he'd become attached to his son. He hated not being able to see Christopher any time day or night. He hated feeling like the third wheel.
"I'm watching an old movie," Eloise explained. "Care to join me? Or would you rather play gin rummy?"
Jake smiled. "Think you can beat me?"
"Any day." She motioned toward the kitchen table. "Pull up a chair and we'll see who really knows how to play."
At first, time passed quickly as Eloise rejoiced in her luck, calling it skill. She won the first game. And the second... Because Jake was getting restless. Glancing at the clock became more important than the cards in his hand.
Finally, after Eloise won another round, he snapped his cards on the table. "Where did you say Sara went?"
"I think she said she might start Christmas shopping."
Was she going to do that without him? She'd said they could shop for Christopher together. With their son along, she couldn't be buying much.
At nine-thirty, Jake went to the front door and looked out. Black. Everything was black. He didn't like the feeling in his gut.
Eloise came up behind him.
"Does she usually stay out this late?"
Eloise shook her head. "No. She's particular about Christopher's bedtime. And she usually calls. But she's been having some problems with her cell phone keeping its charge. It might have died again."
"She seemed to get through the auction okay yesterday. Was she more upset than she let on?"
"I don't think so. Oh, there were some tears because she misses Jennie and yesterday was difficult, but she talked to many of the people who bought her mother's things. She told me afterward she felt they were the type to cherish them."
"She wouldn't have gone back to Wasco."
"Not without telling me."
He wasn't so sure of that. With Mark there, and if she was upset, looking for comfort.... "Do you have Mark what's-his-name's number?"
"Jake, what are you thinking?"
"I don't know what to think. I'm going to look for her."
"That would be like looking for a needle in a haystack."
"My son is out there somewhere!"
Eloise patted Jake's shoulder. "And probably perfectly safe. Do you think Sara would take any chances?"
"Eloise, I know what the streets are like. All of them. No where is safe. Damn! I'm going to call Gillian."
If Eloise wondered why, she didn't ask.
But Gillian and Nathan weren't answering their phones. They sometimes turned them off for a little peace and quiet. After all, they still acted like newlyweds. Jake left message for both of them. Then he paced.
Finally, at ten-thirty, he heard a car pull into the driveway. Jake flung open the door and ran out. Sara opened her door and looked up, obviously surprised to see him.
He gulped in a deep breath. Christopher was safe. He could see him sleeping in his car seat. Sara was safe. So don't fly off the handle. Right. As if he hadn't been sweating buckets since nine o'clock.
"Do you need help?" he asked Sara gruffly.
"Christopher's asleep. If you could carry him to the bedroom, I'll get the packages."
Packages. She was worried about the damn packages. "Are you all right?" His gaze appraised her, noting her clothes weren't mussed or torn.
"I'm fine. We had a flat tire. I thought I could fix it myself but the lugs were too tight. By the time the auto club arrived, it was nine-thirty. My cell phone died again and… She must have seen something in his expression because she said, "I didn't mean to worry anyone."
Worry. More like panic and fear. He hated the way they made him feel helpless and out of control.
Jake carried Christopher to the bedroom and couldn't sit still long enough to help Sara undress their son or tuck him in. He needed air. Lots of it.
As Sara removed Christopher's shoes, Jake said, "I'll be on the front porch. Come out when you're finished."
Sara's wide blue eyes held hundreds of questions. He didn't have the answers. Standing on the porch, looking out into the black, knowing the terrors that lurked out there, he suddenly had one answer. The most important one.
He hadn't wanted another child. But now he was a father again. That was the reality. So how could he best safeguard Christopher and prepare him for life?
By giving him a stable home and two parents who would put their son first. He and Sara could do that most effectively under the same roof. How stable could Christopher's life be if they were constantly trying to coordinate two households, two schedules, two sets of rules? He and Sara needed to parent together.
If they got married, Sara could forget about finding a job, stay home, and be a full-time mother. And he would have constant access to his son--not part time fathering.
A marriage for Christopher's sake made perfect sense. Now all he had to do was persuade Sara. After all, why shouldn't she agree? She wouldn't have to worry about finances or the future. In fact, maybe this was why she'd returned--because raising a son was too difficult to handle on her own. If that was the case, she might jump at the offer of marriage.
The minutes passed like years as Jake waited. When Sara stepped onto the porch, a sweater thrown over her shoulders, his heart pounded.
"Jake, Aunt El said you were really worried. If I could have called, I would have."
"I understand." He looked up at the sky, devoid of stars. "Marry me, Sara."
Sara's heart raced so fast she could hardly breathe. This proposal of Jake's, if that's what it was, was nothing like his first proposal four years ago. That one had been romantic and gentle, a question amid yellow roses and candlelight. Now, he was standing in the black of night and his proposal was anything but romantic.
Yet maybe he still had feelings for her. Maybe the love hadn't died. "Why do you want to get married?" she asked softly, almost afraid to hear his reply.
He didn't hesitate, and his expression said the answer should be obvious. "To give Christopher a stable life--two parents, a home where he feels safe and secure."
"And what about us?" She held her breath.
"Us?" He looked again up to the sky, and then with a frown he faced her. "I don't know about us."
As close as they were, she could smell the familiar scent of the soap Jake used. Its clean, masculine aroma was as recognizable to her as the sound of his voice. Did he want to marry her only because of Christopher? Or did he still have feelings for her? Would he want her to share his bed?
"Do you intend...I mean--" She didn't know a subtle way to ask if he wanted to make love with her.
"Just because we're living together doesn't mean we have to sleep together," he said quietly.
/> He must be a lot stronger than she was or else she'd hurt him so badly when she'd called off the wedding that he no longer desired her. Jake was a sensual man. To marry her and remain celibate seemed unlikely. "If we're married, what do you expect?"
The intensity of his stance and expression didn't change. "I expect you to make a home for us and be faithful to our marriage, just as I will."
"But if we're not sleeping together--"
"Celibacy is nothing new to me. I haven't been a monk, but in this day and age I've been damn careful. I hope you have, too."
"The right person never came along...a man I'd want to be intimate with."
Jake's stare bored into her even in the shadows. "Are you saying I'm the first and only man you've ever been with?"
"Yes."
His gaze skimmed over her from her hair to her toes. "I wish I could believe you."
"I wouldn't lie to you, Jake."
He turned away from her, toward the house next door. "But you did. You didn't tell me the real reason for calling off the wedding, and you didn't tell me I had a son. Once trust is broken, Sara, it's real hard to fix."
She almost felt as if he couldn't stand to look at her, and that hurt so bad. "I wish you could understand."
Facing her again, he admitted, "I can't. All I know is that nothing on this earth will keep me away from Christopher. I want legal rights to him and marrying you will give me those. As for the rest, we'll take one day at a time."
She realized now when she'd canceled their wedding, she'd hurt Jake irrevocably. He'd trusted her with his past and his future and now he felt as if she'd betrayed that trust. She'd never meant to. She'd thought she'd loved him enough to do what was best for him. But she knew now she'd been wrong not to tell him about her pregnancy, not to tell him about Christopher.
She'd always respected Jake's sense of right and wrong, the code of ethics he followed. She'd trust him with her life and their son's. She remembered their Friday nights, the yellow rose that had symbolized their growing relationship, the bond that had developed from the first moment they'd talked. Jake was a strong man and sometimes too stoic and silent. But when he let his guard down, when he cared about someone, no man could be more compassionate or caring.
One evening, soon after they'd started dating, Jennie Standish had dropped her wedding band down the drain. It had slipped off as she'd rinsed dishes. Jake hadn't hesitated to roll up his sleeves and work for two hours until he found the ring trapped in a section of pipe under the sink. He'd realized what that wedding band had meant to her mother.
When Sara had backed out of their wedding, thinking she was giving Jake what he wanted, she'd felt as if her heart had been torn from her. Loving him, marrying him now, could make her feel whole again.
Did he still love her? Could she accept his proposal if he was only offering it because of Christopher?
Yes, because she still loved him. One day at a time with Jake would be better than one day at a time without him. Eventually, he'd trust her again. She'd see to that. Eventually he'd realize how much she loved him and then, maybe he'd feel love again, too. And together they would parent their son. If she hadn't been so young, if she hadn't been so afraid marriage to Jake and a child he hadn't wanted would kill their love, she'd have married him four years ago. But the past was past. All she could do was make up for it the best she could.
"Yes, Jake. I'll marry you. On one condition."
His voice was wary. "What?"
"Any decision about Christopher's well-being we make together. No unilateral decisions--on anything." She knew how strong-minded Jake could be. She wasn't about to let him take away any of her rights as a mother.
He studied her for what seemed like hours. "Done." Extending his hand, he waited for her to take it.
As she placed her hand in his, she was aware of the largeness of his, the firmness of his, the strength that was so much a part of him--that had led him to see the straight and narrow since he was a child. Jake might not trust her, but she trusted him.
He shook her hand quickly, then let go. But for that transient moment, she felt connected to him again, and that connection gave her Sara.
#
A week later, Eloise zipped up the back of Sara's dress and smiled at her in the dresser's mirror. The dress was the palest pink lace, gently and femininely form-fitting. She wore her mother's strand of pearls.
When her aunt handed her the bouquet of white roses and baby's breath, Sara looked like a bride.
The problem was she didn't feel like a bride. "Aunt El, am I doing the right thing?"
Her aunt, dressed in mauve chiffon, straightened her sash. "You've loved Jake for a long time."
"But I'm afraid he doesn't love me anymore. He loves Christopher. He's patient and gentle, and it's so hard to believe he didn't want to be a father again. But at times he tries not to even look at me. I see the pain when he does, and sometimes even with Christopher. What kind of life are we going to have if he's only marrying me because of our son?"
"Child, there's still time to call this off. Is that what you want to do?"
Sara ran through all of it in her mind again as she had so many times since she'd shaken Jake's hand, since she'd felt her love for Jake grow each time she saw him with their son, since she'd seen a doctor and asked for birth control pills. If she called off the wedding, she would lose Jake. She knew that as well as she knew her name. She just wished she had a guarantee that time would heal because today her worst fear was that he was marrying her only for Christopher's sake, not because he still loved her. Could that be a basis for a marriage?
Yes, it could. For this marriage. She had to believe Jake would come to love her again. Did she want to call off the ceremony? No.
Shaking her head so vigorously that her pearl earrings swung, she said, "I don't want to call it off. I want to marry Jake."
"Then square your shoulders, hold your head high, and walk over to those stairs like the lady I know you are."
Sara hugged her aunt. "I'm glad you're here. I just wish Mom could be here, too."
As Eloise leaned back, she said, "Your mother's here, Sara. Guiding you a little differently from when she was alive, but guiding you just the same."
Sara kissed her aunt's cheek. "Thank you."
Eloise gave her a tight squeeze as they heard music begin. Sara knew it was a CD, but she didn't care. This was her wedding day, and she'd make the most of it.
#
Jake stood in the living room beside Nathan Bradley, his best man. Christopher, who held a white satin pillow, rocked from one foot to the other at the foot of the stairs, waiting for his mother. Two gold bands lay on the top of the pillow. When Jake had asked Sara about the type of ring she preferred, the band was what she'd picked. She could have had anything she wanted. He'd pointed out several that were channel-set with diamonds. But she'd shaken her head and asked if he'd wear one, too. Why not? After all, they were getting married.
Beside him, Nathan asked in a low voice so the minister a few feet away couldn't hear, "Are you having second thoughts?"
"No."
"You don't have to marry her to get legal rights to Christopher."
"I know." Nathan wasn't only Gillian's husband, but a good friend. He was informed about custody law because of his own situation with his two daughters from a previous marriage.
His friend kept his voice low. "I want you to make sure you know what you're doing."
Getting married. Jake supposed it meant faith in the future to most people. He'd thought it had meant that to Mary Beth. Then she'd walked out when they could have pulled together. Not that he blamed her. She couldn't forgive him for Davie's death, and she certainly couldn't forget it.
Jake had wanted to start fresh when he'd met Sara, maybe so he could begin to forget himself. Sara had given him the chance to do that...for a few months. Then she'd broken her promise to marry him. She'd left when, in a sense, he'd needed her most. He wouldn't need her, or any woman, again
. He'd concentrate on Christopher despite the pain, maybe because of it, and he'd take care of Sara because she was his son's mother.
"I know what I'm doing," Jake responded in a decisive tone that he realized wouldn't reassure Nathan. But reassuring his best man was low on his priority list.
"Jake, a child isn't enough to hold a marriage together. You can be a good parent without marrying Sara Standish."
Taking his gaze from his son, Jake faced Nathan. "I want to be a full time father. I've seen what happens to kids whose parents are split. Remember, I spend most Sundays at the community center. I work with kids who are looking for approval wherever they can get it even if it means belonging to a gang. I want better for my son. I want better than I had. I want to keep him safe."
"My girls are doing just fine."
Jake didn't mean to insult Nathan or insinuate he was doing something wrong. "Your situation is the exception, and you know it. Just stand up for me, Nathan. I don't need your advice."
"That's a matter of opinion," Nathan muttered.
Long ago, Jake had learned he couldn't please everyone, not even people he cared about. He could only do what he thought was right. That's the way he'd lived his life. Being a cop had reduced his vision to black and white. Shades of gray could have gotten him killed. Giving the benefit of the doubt, feeling pity for someone, had brought down more than one good man. Even as a private investigator the fact had been driven home again and again--there was truth and there were lies. Husbands cheated on wives, wives cheated on husbands, con artists scammed women, white collar thieves tried to take advantage of the system. Truth usually found the lie. But right didn't always win over wrong. He thought about Davie and felt the familiar pain.
He glanced around the room, looking for a distraction. Gillian smiled at him. What Jake liked about his investigative work with Gillian was the sincerity of it, the truth of it, and the rightness of it. They helped people find other people. Many clients they'd helped had given generously for the work they did, and Jake had set up a foundation to fund their work. Those who could pay did. Those who couldn't were helped anyway.
As the music swelled, Jake turned his attention again to the stairs. Eloise came down the steps first. Christopher grinned and waved at her. His pillow tilted and Jake was glad Eloise had pinned the rings.
Jake's Bride (Search For Love) Page 5
