"I've got to get back to work. I'll see you when I get home." He paused, then said, "I love you, too, Sara."
She froze.
Sara.
The name seeped into her skin, burrowed deep in her heart, filled her with ice that spread through her blood.
Hadn't she known Carter was lying about something? From a week before, that moment on the sidewalk, she'd known. Still, like an idiot, she'd bared her soul to this man. She'd told him all about her life, her hopes, her fears, her cancer. All the while...
Sara.
He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned back toward the workshop. He was about to step inside when he must have caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye.
He swiveled.
Their eyes met, and his filled with an unmistakable emotion. Guilt.
She gasped, gasped as if she'd seen a tarantula. As if her life were in danger, not just her heart. Gasped like a fool.
Then spun and bolted away.
15
Carter's brain caught up with the situation a moment too late. Jo had heard him talking to Sara. Had heard that last line—I love you, too.
And now she was running.
"Jo, wait!" He chased her to the corner, turned down the side street, and called again. "Please, let me explain."
She kept running.
He ran after her and was a block down the street when he remembered the mold. He slowed, then stopped. He'd only taken a short break away to talk to Sara. He was in the middle of a very important step, and if he left it, the mold would be ruined. He'd lose the contract, lose his hefty pay, the down payment he'd need to close. He'd lose the house.
He watched her disappear around a corner. He dialed her cell while he returned to his shop, a sick feeling in his stomach.
She rejected the call.
He dialed again. Rejected again. He left a message. "I can't leave work right now. Please, give me five minutes to explain. Please, call me back."
He ended the call, set the phone and his hope aside. She wouldn't call him back.
His mother's comments from the night before filled his mind. Was he a terrible father for falling in love with a woman with cancer? Would a better man walk away?
The very idea had him shaking his head. What kind of a man would walk away from a woman he loved because she might die? Everybody was going to die eventually. Nobody knew when their time would come. Life was full of risks, and yes, cancer was a big one. But heck, so was taking on a man with a five-year-old daughter. So was owning a business. So was falling in love.
Ever since Amber had abandoned Sara and him, he'd identified with Gideon, his favorite character from the Bible. Here was a man hiding in a tight, probably underground winepress threshing wheat because he was afraid of the Midianites. Carter could imagine Gideon in that hole, covered in sweat, itching as the chaff stuck to his body like shame. He could imagine Gideon desperate to keep his wheat away from the enemy so he could feed his family.
When Amber had left them, Carter hadn't feared for his life, hadn't feared they'd starve to death, but he'd feared. Oh, how he'd feared. How could he raise his baby alone? Here he was, a man who'd fallen away from God, who'd gotten his girlfriend pregnant, who'd married not for love, but obligation. A coward and a sinner who'd gotten what he'd deserved when Amber left him. But he hadn't gotten what he'd deserved, because he still had this precious, beautiful child. Alone, broken, confused. He'd considered putting her up for adoption, so sure she'd be better off without him.
God had found Gideon in the winepress and called him a mighty man of valor.
God found Carter in the middle of the night, rocking his sick daughter, and called him a good father.
He could still remember the moment, how that feeling had covered him like his child's tears had soaked his T-shirt. He'd thought of Gideon's story then. Gideon hadn't been a mighty man of valor when God called him, but God made him into exactly that.
Carter wasn't sure he was a good father, but that moment five years earlier he decided he would trust God to make him into the man he needed to be for his little girl.
He was a father first, but oh, how he wanted to be a husband, too.
He picked up the phone, tried Jo one more time, then set the phone down. He would have to finish this mold. He would have to trust God to work this out.
Gloves on, he grabbed his tools. He took a deep breath to steady his hands and set to work, praying all the while that Jo would forgive him. He'd keep trying, keep calling until she picked up. He knew where she worked. She couldn't avoid him forever.
16
He hadn't chased her.
He hadn't even chased her.
Jo slowed down at Main Street, then crossed it and followed the same side street to the other side of the tiny downtown area. Older houses lined this road, giant oaks arched into a canopy above. She hid beneath their shade. She couldn't go back to work yet.
Andrew could handle the customers. She needed to pull herself together.
Her phone chirped, indicating a voicemail. Right. Like she was going to listen to Carter's excuses over voicemail.
She could imagine him there, formulating a plan to weasel out of his mess, how to spin his lies. She didn't know much about men—not through experience, anyway—but she'd observed her friends' relationships over the years. For every decent guy, it seemed there were five who were liars, players, or cheaters.
Carter, it seemed, was all of the above. What had been his endgame? Was he separated, looking for a new girl in his new town to replace the one he'd left behind? But if that were the case, then why the words I love you?
She could still hear them, resonating in the chasm of her mind. Hadn't she longed to hear those words from a man? Well, she'd heard them now, directed at some other woman. That was as close as she'd ever get.
Maybe he was a bigamist. Maybe he had houses in towns all over the country. How many of those thumbtacks on the map hanging in her office represented places he'd been? Did he have a girl in every port? Was she just one of many? How important was this Sara person? Were they married? Dating? Whoever she was, he loved her.
Right. Because his words were so reliable. Maybe he'd said that out of obligation. Maybe he was leaving Sara.
And so Jo was what? A rebound fling?
She was getting ahead of herself. Maybe Sara was a family member. Carter didn't have a sister, but maybe his sister-in-law? No, he'd mentioned her name, and it wasn't Sara. Even if it were, who told a sister-in-law he loved her? Okay, maybe it was a cousin. Would someone say those words to a cousin? She could almost buy that, if not for the guilt she'd seen in his eyes. That shocked I'm caught expression.
No, Sara wasn't his cousin.
Too many unanswered questions. Her own fault for getting involved. When they were walking to his shop that first time, he'd had a look in his eyes while he told her about his emergency the day before. She'd felt he was lying. Why had she let that feeling flit away? So he was good looking. So he was fun to be with. He was a liar, the worst kind.
She'd told him everything. About her cancer, about her probable infertility. About her shattered dreams. She'd bared her soul to the man, and he'd been lying to her.
How stupid could she get?
She stifled the ugly snort and wiped her eyes. She'd warned herself to be careful. But she hadn't listened. Now her heart was lying in pieces all over town.
Stupid, stupid girl with stupid expectations. Hadn't she learned expectations were for fools? She'd had dreams, hadn't she? And they'd all been squashed like overripe fruit in the bottom of a garbage bin. Every time she'd hoped, life had punished her. She'd dared to dream about a future with Carter. Once again, she'd been rewarded for it.
Maybe she wouldn't die of cancer.
Maybe this broken heart would kill her first.
She grabbed her phone and deleted Carter's message without listening to it. Then she blocked his number.
She wiped her eyes again and returned to the
store. In the restroom, she splashed water on her face and gazed at herself in the mirror. Her image reflected a thousand broken dreams.
She turned away, made it to the counter, gave Andrew a quick nod, and helped the next customer. This was her life now, wrapping other people's treasures in brown paper packages. She'd have to remember to keep her dreams wrapped tightly, too. She didn't think she'd survive the death of another one.
17
Carter set down his tool and studied the progress he'd made on the mold in the previous two hours. Great. He'd get the house.
But he'd lost the girl.
No.
He washed up, locked up, and cranked up his truck.
Less than a minute later, he parked outside the UPS store and stepped out of the pickup. No way was he going to let Jo get away without a fight. Gideon had had to fight, hadn't he? Not that he should compare Jo to a pillaging enemy, but right now, he did have an enemy to defeat. His own lies were only part of it. Her monstrous fear seemed nearly undefeatable. But defeat it he would.
He paused outside the door and looked at the blue sky. Prayed for help, for wisdom, for words.
Then he stepped inside.
Two customers stood in line. Jo was helping the first. The second waited patiently. He wondered where Andrew had gone, but then he saw the kid hauling boxes toward the back of the store. Carter leaned against the wall to wait.
Jo caught sight of him. She narrowed her eyes, turned away, and focused on the customer.
This was not going to be easy. Maybe there was no hope for it. Maybe he'd ruined his chances with her when he'd failed to tell her about Sara from the start. But he wasn't going to leave until he told her everything. If she still wanted nothing to do with him, that was the price he'd pay for his deceit.
He really didn't want to pay that price.
The first customer left, the second stepped to the counter. Jo was friendly and professional, but he could feel her anger from across the room, pulsing in tune with his pounding heart.
When the customer headed for the door, Carter pushed off the wall and approached.
She turned to escape into the office. As if that would stop him.
He followed, skirted the counter, reached the office, and caught the door just before it slammed in his face.
"Can we talk please?"
"You're not supposed to be back here."
"Call the police, then."
She paused beside a dark stained desk scattered with papers and office supplies. A computer perched on the corner, a printer on the credenza against the wall. A giant map hung behind her, thumbtacks poking from places all over the world. He glanced at China, saw a blue tack in Shanghai.
The heat from her glare pulled his gaze back to her.
"I don't want to hear what you have to say."
He sighed, pulled out his phone, and opened his photos. He found what he was looking for and turned it to face her.
She glanced at the picture, then took a longer look.
"That's Sara," he said.
She blinked, then narrowed her eyes. "Who is she?"
He steeled his courage and told the truth. "She's my daughter."
18
Jo gazed at the beautiful little girl. Brown curly hair, icy blue eyes, a baby-toothed smile.
She looked back at Carter. Questions swirled. Where is she? Where's her mother? How could you treat your family this way?
The most important floated to the top. "Why are you here?"
"I thought..." He floundered, started again. "That's who I was talking to."
"Okay."
"I should have told you."
"That you have a family somewhere? Yeah, that would have been a good idea."
"Not a family, Jo." He slipped his phone in his pocket. "I mean, yeah, Sara and I are a family. And I have my parents and my brother, but there's not another woman."
She pointed to his pocket. "Did that child fall from the sky? Did the stork accidentally deliver her to your house?"
"Her mother left us a long time ago."
Left them? She pictured the photo she'd just seen, took in Carter's model-worthy face. Who would leave them? "Why?"
He swallowed like she'd asked a trick question. "I don't know. I never... Sara was an accident. Or, not really, though at the time... She was a surprise, a wonderful, perfect little gift wrapped in this tiny, angry package." He smiled, shook his head. "Not angry, colicky, but it felt the same. Her mother and I, we'd been dating, but it wasn't serious. Then she found out she was pregnant. I proposed, because it seemed like the right thing to do. We got married, and all was fine until Sara was born. Then... I guess Amber wasn't interested in being a mom. Her father'd abandoned her, her mother was not the ideal parent. She had a lot of emotional problems, and I think... I thought for a long time it was postpartum depression, that she'd come back when she got over it. She left when Sara was a couple weeks old. I haven't seen her since."
Jo settled on the edge of her chair, her legs too weak to hold her up.
He had a child.
He'd hadn't been lying about another woman. But he had been lying.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
He sat on the little side chair across from her desk. "I should have. From the very first meeting. The call that came in—it was her school. She was sick, and—"
"You said your mom took care of a little girl. It's her? Your daughter?"
"Yeah."
"Why? Was this all nothing but fun and games to you? You wanted...what? Someone to eat lunch with? I mean, that's fine. It's not like"—she swallowed a sob—"it's not like I went into this with the hopes of marriage or anything. I wanted a date to my stupid reunion, which isn't for months. Which is why I wasn't trying harder with the stupid online profile. Because why get involved with someone, when it was all going to fall apart, and obviously it was doomed. Everything I... But then..." She let her voice trail off, afraid to say too much. Afraid she'd already said too much. Because it was clear that this wasn't the same for him as it was for her. He had a family already. Had a child. Had all he needed. She'd just been someone to share a meal with when the important people in his life were busy.
And here she been stupid enough to hope he might care about her.
That was her problem. Before this, she'd thought cancer had squashed all the hope out of her. This would do it. This would definitely do it.
"Jo." He leaned forward.
She pushed back in her chair. It crashed into the credenza behind her. "Don't."
"At first, this was about finding someone to hang out with. I gave up hoping, too. After Amber left, I was alone for years. Then there was a woman, and I thought I loved her. She was good to Sara, and I thought, yes, she can be a wife and mother. I proposed, and Heather left us, too. Just like"—he snapped his fingers. "She didn't even say goodbye to Sara. We were both devastated. But now I realize that Heather was right to leave. I didn't love her. I loved the idea of having a wife for me, a mother for my daughter, someone to share the burden with. But I didn't really love her.
"So when my mother cajoled me into trying online dating, I did it to get her to quit nagging me. I wasn't looking for a serious relationship. I'd given that up when Heather left. But then I met you."
Jo's stupid heart had the gall, the ridiculous, arrant gall, to hope. She could feel the quick tum-tum. May-be, may-be, may-be.
No.
"You need to go."
"Jo—"
"Get out."
"I'm sorry I lied to you." His words came faster now. "I should have told you about Sara from the start. I was like you, though. Don't you see? I was afraid to hope any woman could care about me, about us. I was afraid. And now—"
"Please, go." She squeezed her eyes shut, tried to will him to leave before she lost her mind and believed him.
She heard his chair squeak. Heard him stand. Waited for the sound of the door, the whoosh of fresh air in her stuffy office.
Instead, she felt his presence bes
ide her. He swiveled her chair, took her hands. "Please, open your eyes and look at me."
She did, found him crouching on the floor in front of her.
"I'm in love with you, Josephine."
She looked into his blue eyes, searched for the guilt, the lies she'd seen there earlier. She saw nothing.
No, not nothing. She saw hope.
"I should have told you about Sara." He gazed at their joined hands, then back at her. "You can understand, can't you? That fear of believing for something better? I've never faced cancer, but I've faced a broken heart. I've held my daughter while she cried for not one, but two women she'd had every right to believe loved her. I cried for those women, too. But honestly, I never truly understood love until I met you."
She tried to block out the words, because they were doing to her heart exactly the thing she'd sworn she wouldn't allow. It was as if Carter had shined a bright light into the dark corners of her soul. As if he were beckoning her dreams, inviting them forward. The stupid things were responding, crawling out, blinking in the sunshine, basking in the glow.
Maybe she was a fool. It was too late to rein it in now. So many things to say, but her heart couldn't let the words out. Because along with all those dreams dancing in the sunshine was the dark and bitter casket of fear, clamping her mouth shut.
He released her hands and brushed his finger down her hairline. He leaned in, so close she could smell mint on his breath. "Please give me a chance."
But she couldn't think with him so close. Couldn't speak.
He leaned closer, brushed her lips with his once. Twice.
She should've turned her head away. But she couldn't. She was paralyzed by... What was that feeling? Not hopelessness. Not fear.
Desire held her in place.
He kissed her again, slowly, deeply.
Without her permission, her traitorous arms slid over his shoulders. She leaned forward, kissed him back. Kissed him until tears filled her eyes, dripped down her cheeks.
Matched Online: Anthology Bks 1-4 (Contemporary Romance) Page 13
