To a Macallister Born

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  Jack looked away and stared into the fire for a long moment, then met Jennifer’s gaze again. “Yes, I guess I am testing you,” he said. “I’m so unsure of myself on the subject of being in love. I know that I love you, but, oh, man, it scares the hell out of me. I’m trying desperately to get a handle on my emotions here, be comfortable with them, welcome them. I’m no expert on love, but I do realize that this secret of yours is too big, has too much power. We’re fragile, Jennifer, very fragile in this new place we’ve found ourselves. There’s no room in here for your ghosts. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Jennifer drew a wobbly breath. “Yes. Yes, but…Oh, God, no one knows what happened with Joe. I haven’t told anyone—not even my parents. I have to protect Joey from the truth. He must never discover the true facts about his father.”

  “Do you think I’d ever do anything to hurt Joey?”

  Jennifer looked into the depths of Jack’s dark eyes. “No,” she said softly. “No, you wouldn’t.”

  “And you?” Jack said. “Can you envision me hurting you, Jennifer?”

  “No.”

  “Then tell me about Joe Mackane.”

  Jennifer got to her feet and moved to stand in front of the fire. She stared into the flames, her hands once again wrapped protectively around her.

  Please, Jennifer, Jack pleaded silently, staring at her. Please talk to me.

  They couldn’t do anything until the ghosts—the barrier—created by Jennifer’s past were gone.

  Talk to me, Jennifer, please.

  “When I graduated from college,” Jennifer said quietly, still staring into the fire, “I took a position as the manager of a small hotel in Colorado. When I’d been there about six years, a construction crew came to town to do the finishing work on a retirement home project. There was a lounge—a bar in the hotel that was popular with the local people. Joe and the other men in the construction crew came into the bar on a regular basis.”

  Jennifer turned slowly to look at Jack, and he frowned as he saw that the color had drained from her face.

  “Joe swept me off my feet,” she said, her voice flat and low. “He made me feel beautiful, special, like the most important woman on the face of the earth. I was so…so unsophisticated and inexperienced and…I fell in love with him—or believed I was in love—and two weeks after I met him we were married. I was twenty-seven years old, but a young, unworldly twenty-seven, and Joe was thirty.”

  Jack nodded.

  “I wanted a church wedding with my parents present, wanted to be married here in Prescott, but Joe said he couldn’t get time off from work and he’d meet my mother and father later. We were married by a justice of the peace with office workers as witnesses, then moved into a tiny apartment.”

  Jennifer stopped speaking and stared into memory-filled space.

  “And?” Jack prompted, hardly breathing.

  “After a month of wedded bliss,” Jennifer went on, “Joe said the job he was on was completed and he’d taken a new assignment out of town, two hundred miles away. He’d only be able to get home on the weekends. I wasn’t happy about it, but I put on a brave face—wanted to be the perfect, supportive wife.

  “I kept busy at work and lived for the weekends when Joe would be home,” she said. “But he began to make excuses why he couldn’t come—they were working overtime, he had the flu…whatever. I had to wait for him to telephone me, because he said there was no phone in the boarding house where the crew was staying.”

  Jack narrowed his eyes.

  “I was lonely, so lonely,” Jennifer said, shaking her head. “Then I found out that I was pregnant. Oh, how thrilled I was about the baby, could hardly wait to tell Joe. I was determined not to share my news over the telephone. It was too special, too wonderful. Or…so I thought.”

  “What happened?” Jack said quietly.

  “Joe was gone for over a month after I discovered I was pregnant. When he finally came home, I fixed his favorite dinner, put candles on the table, dressed up so prettily for him. As we ate, I told him about the baby. He…he was furious. He said I was supposed to have made certain I wouldn’t get pregnant. He didn’t want any part of being a father, and I should terminate my pregnancy immediately.”

  “Ah, Jennifer,” Jack said. “I’m so damn sorry.”

  “Oh, that’s just the tip of the iceberg, Jack,” she said, a sudden bitter edge to her voice. “This story gets even better. I refused to end the pregnancy, and Joe came home less and less, often staying away two months or more at a time. He wouldn’t touch me when he did show up because he said I was fat, disgusting.”

  “Why—why didn’t you divorce him?”

  Jennifer pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I couldn’t admit to myself that I’d made such a terrible mistake marrying Joe. I convinced myself that he’d change his attitude once he saw and held our baby.”

  “Jennifer,” Jack said, extending one hand toward her.

  “No,” she said, her voice trembling. “Let me finish. I’m hanging on by a thread here. Don’t—don’t comfort me, or I’ll fall apart.”

  “Don’t say any more,” Jack said, getting to his feet. “This is too painful for you. It’s okay, Jennifer. We’ll just leave it in the past where it belongs. We won’t allow it to stand between us.”

  “No, I’m going to get it all out,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “I need to. It’s been festering within me for so long, consuming a part of me that I want back. Yes, I need to do this.”

  “All right,” Jack said, remaining on his feet.

  “A week before the baby was born,” she said, looking directly into Jack’s eyes, “one of the men from Joe’s construction crew came to the apartment. He told me that Joe had been killed when a wire holding a high platform let go and Joe fell to the ground. I was devastated. My parents flew up to be with me and we were informed that funeral arrangements had already been made. I didn’t question that. I was numb—in shock.

  “On the day of the funeral it rained,” she said. “I don’t know why I’m telling you that, except that at the time it seemed to represent my life—so bleak and dark. After the graveside service, a woman in her late forties asked to speak to me alone. My parents went on to the car, and I stood there with that stranger, that woman, next to Joe’s casket.”

  “Who was she?” Jack said, his heart racing.

  A sob caught in Jennifer’s throat. “Joe’s wife! Are you getting this, Jack? She was Joe’s wife. She sneered at me, said I was a stupid child, just one more in a long string of affairs that Joe had had. She didn’t care if he played around, she said, because he always came home to her. And then she laughed, Jack. She laughed. She said Joe had really done it up big this time by actually going through with a marriage ceremony. He did love a challenge, she said, and had probably gotten a real kick out of seeing if he could pull it off.”

  “That lousy son of a—” Jack started, then shook his head.

  “The baby was a joke on Joe, the woman said, still laughing that horrible laugh,” Jennifer said, “and it would have served him right to get stuck with child support. She left me standing there in the rain. I could hear her laughter as she walked away—heard it in my nightmares for months afterward…My world was shattered. It had all been lies, a joke, a game. I was so ashamed. How could I have been so gullible, so foolish, so—”

  “Jennifer, don’t,” Jack said. “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known that Joe—”

  “I trusted and believed in him,” she said, tears spilling onto her pale cheeks, “and he destroyed me.”

  “Damn it,” Jack said, rubbing a hand over his face.

  “I vowed, as I stood there in the rain staring at Joe’s casket, that no one, no one, would ever know the truth. No one would know my shame. And even more important, I would protect my child from the truth of the kind of man his father really was.”

  “And so you named your son after his father,” Jack said, “to indicate a—a memorial of
love and respect and…You named the baby Joey.”

  “Yes,” Jennifer said, dashing the tears from her cheeks. “But when I look at my son, say his name, I have no thoughts of Joe, of what he did, who he really was. Joey is mine. He has no…no connection to Joe Mackane. None. Joey will never learn the truth about his father.”

  A sob caught in Jennifer’s throat and fresh tears filled her eyes. She lifted her chin and drew a deep, shuddering breath.

  “So, did I pass your test, Jack?” she said, tears once again streaking her cheeks. “Did I get high enough marks? Are you satisfied now?”

  “Oh, Jennifer.”

  Jack closed the distance between them and pulled Jennifer into his embrace, holding her tightly. She buried her face in his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist as she struggled not to cry.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jack said. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to relive that pain. I’ve been so selfish, deciding how things should be between us, demanding that you…Jennifer, please forgive me for putting you through this ordeal. I love you, and I’ve hurt you, and I’m so damn sorry.”

  Jennifer raised her head to look at Jack, and he nearly groaned aloud as he saw the tears glistening on her pale cheeks and shimmering in her beautiful, green eyes.

  “No, you didn’t hurt me, Jack,” Jennifer said, her voice trembling. “You were right. The past is over. It’s the present and—and the future that matters. I do trust and believe in you. I do…love you.”

  Jack attempted to reply, but sudden, overwhelming emotions closed his throat. He shook his head slightly, then captured Jennifer’s lips in a heartfelt kiss that he hoped would convey the words he was unable to speak.

  Jennifer returned the kiss in total abandon, joyously aware that she was, at long last, free of the haunting, painful memories that had plagued her for so many years. She was free to live and free to love.

  And as unbelievable and wondrous as it seemed, Jack loved her in return.

  Jack gently broke the kiss, then wiped away Jennifer’s tears with a stroke of his thumbs.

  “Pretty heavy stuff, huh?” he said, his voice raspy.

  “Very heavy.” She smiled, then sniffled. “Very special. Very scary.”

  “Yep. Look, I have a suggestion to make,” Jack said. “I’m sure as hell not saying this is how it has to be, because my dictator days are over after what I just did to you. But, I just think…maybe we shouldn’t discuss the future yet—not yet. Let’s give ourselves time to adjust to the idea that we’ve fallen in love. How does that sound?”

  No, Jennifer thought. It was wrong. It meant she still had a secret, was still keeping something of great magnitude from Jack that might cause him to reconsider and end things between them now. She needed to tell him that she wanted it all—a forever with him. Wanted to be his wife, wanted him to be a father to her son.

  “Okay?” Jack said. “Jennifer?”

  “Yes, all right,” she said. “We’ll live in the present for now, savor it and how we feel about each other, because we’re free of the past.”

  “We’ll live one day at a time.”

  “There aren’t that many days left before you’re scheduled to leave for California, Jack.”

  “There’s plenty of time,” he said, lowering his head toward hers. “Plenty—” he brushed his lips over hers once “—of time—” twice “—my love.” Then his mouth melted over hers in a feverish kiss.

  A shiver of foreboding coursed through Jennifer, but was quickly replaced by the rushing current of desire that consumed her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Time.

  It was such a small word, Jennifer thought, staring at the calendar on the kitchen wall. It had only four letters and rhymed with lime, and slime, and chime and…

  Time, her mind echoed over and over. Time…time…time…

  It was moving too fast. It hardly seemed possible that it had been nearly three weeks since the night she had told Jack the truth about Joe Mackane.

  Three weeks since she and Jack had declared their love for each other.

  Three glorious weeks of sharing, caring, making love.

  Three weeks with not one word spoken by either of them about the future.

  Time was rapidly ticking away, while screaming the fact that there were only ten days left until Christmas, the holiday that Jack was scheduled to spend in California with his family. She’d been so centered on Jack that she now realized she hadn’t heard word from Deborah about putting the house on the market.

  Jennifer sighed, glanced at her watch, then began to pace restlessly across the kitchen.

  Up until this very moment, she’d wanted time to stop, leaving her suspended in the wondrous world that revolved around Jack and Joey.

  But right now? she thought, looking at her watch again. She wanted the next four minutes to fly, instead of dragging by second by second the way it was.

  In four more minutes—no, in three minutes and thirty-five seconds—she would hurry down the hallway to the bathroom and check the results of the home pregnancy test she’d taken.

  “Oh, dear heaven,” she said, stopping her trek and pressing her fingertips to her aching temples. Stay calm, she ordered herself. She was not pregnant. Her body was off-kilter, reacting to stress and fatigue. She’d taken the test to reassure herself of that fact, to put the ridiculous notion to rest once and for all.

  She—was—not—pregnant.

  She was exhausted, the pace at work having increased to a near-frenzy. Hamilton House was booked solid through the holidays, the nightly number of patrons in the dining room growing.

  There were also endless private parties being held in the conference rooms, events that required Jennifer to check and double-check a multitude of details, ensuring everything was ready.

  There was Christmas shopping to complete, gifts to wrap, cards to be addressed and mailed. One entire, memory-making evening had been spent with Jack and Joey, buying a tree, setting it up in front of the living room windows, then decorating it as they played carols on the stereo.

  Adding to her fatigue was the fact that she hadn’t been sleeping well. In the dark, quiet hours of the night, the underlying tension and stress hovering around her and Jack reared its nagging head and screamed her doubts and fears over Jack and his intentions.

  Despite his declaration of love, did Jack still plan to walk out of her life before Christmas? Was her love, her trust and belief in Jack MacAllister misplaced? Was he going to shatter her hopes, her dreams, her heart by leaving her forever?

  Oh, Jack said he loved her, but did he wish to spend the rest of his life with her? Did he want to be her husband, and a father for Joey?

  The questions were there, always there, demanding more attention with each passing day.

  No wonder her body was out of whack, she thought, throwing up her hands. She’d had several dizzy spells because of the building stress she was under. Her appetite was nonexistent, and when she did eat she became queasy.

  But no, she wasn’t pregnant. She was a woman in love who had to know what the future held. What was called for here was another serious discussion with Jack.

  “Definitely,” she said decisively, then looked at her watch. “Okay. Time is up.”

  She marched from the kitchen, her eyes narrowed as she envisioned sitting Jack down that night after Joey was asleep and telling Mr. MacAllister that enough was enough. They had to talk about their future together—or lack of same.

  She’d wasted precious money buying the pregnancy test kit, Jennifer thought as she approached the bathroom. She didn’t have a nickel to spare during the holidays aside from what she spent on presents for everyone on her long list.

  With a cluck of self-disgust, she entered the bathroom and went to the vanity where she’d placed the pieces of the kit.

  And then she stopped breathing.

  Her heartbeat pounded painfully in her ears. Tiny black dots danced before her eyes, and she gripped the edge of the sink with both
hands as she stared at the little plastic device.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, “no. It’s wrong. A mistake. This isn’t true.” She drew a wobbly breath, and a bubble of hysterical laughter escaped from her lips. “Yes, it is. I’m pregnant. I’m carrying another baby who might not be welcomed by its father. Dear heaven, what am I going to do?”

  With trembling hands, Jennifer collected the pieces of the kit, stuffed them into the box, then hurried back down the hallway. In the kitchen she shoved the box into the trash basket, hiding it under a layer of debris.

  Then she sank onto a chair at the table, rested her elbows on the place mat and dropped her face into her shaking hands.

  Jack’s baby, her mind thundered. She was pregnant with Jack MacAllister’s baby. How had this happened? They were always careful. Jack protected her every time they made love and—

  Jennifer raised her head and her eyes widened. One night. There had been one night when she had clung to Jack, hadn’t wanted him to leave her even for a moment. It had been after the horrifying ordeal of Joey’s surgery. She had been physically exhausted and emotionally drained, had wanted only to escape to the blissful place Jack took her when they made love.

  She had almost forgotten about that passion-filled night. She now remembered that she’d told Jack it was all right, it was the wrong time of the month for her to become pregnant—and that had been true. But her body obviously hadn’t been paying attention to the calendar.

  And she’d conceived Jack’s child.

  Jennifer sank back in the chair and splayed her hands on her flat stomach. Jack’s baby, her mind whispered. No, it was her baby. Her secret. She was not going to tell Jack about this child unless he came to her and asked her to marry him. She wouldn’t trap him into proposing to her, thus sentencing herself to a lifetime of wondering if he truly wished to be by her side.

  If Jack packed up and left, went to California per his original plan, he would never, ever know that this child existed.

  And the serious discussion with Jack that she’d scheduled on the agenda for this evening? Oh, yes, they’d have that talk, but she’d keep a tight rein on her emotions, be very certain that she didn’t blurt out her news of the baby. She’d wait to hear what Jack had to say.