Second Chance Mom

by EMILIE ROSE

  Great. She was lost. And she’d left her cell phone at home. She didn’t want Chastity to leave for school without seeing her—especially not after last night’s debacle.

  The sound of fast footfalls caught her attention. Optimistically, she glanced up. Maybe the fellow jogger could give her directions. Then she recognized the runner—Matt—and groaned. He kept catching her at her worst. Not that she cared what she looked like since she wasn’t trying to impress anyone—especially him. But at least she’d shaved her legs.

  He, on the other hand, looked fit and fabulous, of course. He reached her side. Blue eyes scorched over her, kicking her pulse rate back into the danger zone. “Good morning, Rachel. You okay?”

  “’Morning. I’m fine. Just working in some exercise.”

  He wore a tank and track pants. The damp fabric clung to an abundance of taut, tanned, muscled flesh and revealed impressive biceps. Golden chest hair showed above his neckline. The memory of how ticklish he’d been when she used to tease the silky strands beneath his arms and raked her nails over his rib cage blindsided her. Trying to banish the mental images of his bronzed body, she bent to stretch her tightening hamstrings.

  “I’m glad I ran into you. My parents would like you and Chastity to come over after church Sunday.”

  Rachel jerked upright, her gaze hitting his in surprise and dismay. How could she look Matt’s parents in the eye knowing she’d denied them their grandchild? “I don’t think—”

  “Mom insists. Besides, Chastity always enjoys our cookouts. Pam’s and Jake’s herds will be there.”

  Rachel vaguely remembered Matt’s siblings. “Pam and Jake have kids?”

  “Pam has three. Jake has two. They’d appreciate the company to even the numbers for volleyball and touch football.”

  Chastity had cousins. Cousins she could never claim. Guilt landed another punch in Rachel’s solar plexus. “I’ll check with Chastity.”

  “It’s just lunch, Rachel. She already eats half her meals with Pam’s daughter, Jessica.”

  Ahh, Jessica from last night. “Is this the same Jess who drives her mom’s car?”

  “Only on the family farm. Can I tell Mom you’ll be there? Or do I need to send her over to invite you?”

  She didn’t want that. “Yeah...we’ll be there.”

  “One o’clock.” Matt looked as if he were waiting for her to move on.

  She shifted in her shoes, reluctant to reveal her stupidity. She hated it even more when his gaze meandered over her sweat-soaked body again, making her feel as naked as she’d been the day she’d realized she loved him. “I’m, ah...not sure where I am. Could you give me directions?”

  She gave him points for not laughing. “This is Barnhill’s Dairy Road. It’s been paved since you lived here, and neighborhoods have replaced pastures. But you’ve been down this road before. It leads to the creek.”

  Where they’d often made out in his truck. Her cheeks burned. “Gotcha.”

  “Go to the end of the street. Take the next two lefts. That’ll get you back to Hope’s.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “You have water?” He offered his bottle.

  She didn’t. “I’m good, Coach.”

  “Rachel—” he warned.

  She couldn’t let her pride wipe her out. “Maybe a sip.”

  He unscrewed the cap and handed the plastic to her. She drank, fully aware that his lips had been exactly where hers were now. It didn’t help that he focused on her mouth. She gulped, then handed it back. He took the bottle and drank from it. Sharing seemed...intimate. But they’d shared so much more.

  She cleared her throat. “Thanks. See ya.”

  “You’re welcome.” He nodded, then took off.

  Rachel allowed herself a selfish moment to admire his backside and the strength of his long legs, then she yanked herself up by the hormones. It didn’t matter if Matt still had the best body on three continents. She wasn’t interested in resuming their relationship. And even if she were, she couldn’t chance it.

  * * *

  MATT GRITTED HIS teeth against the pain and continued putting one foot in front of the other. If he could fake it thirty more yards, he’d be out of Rachel’s sight.

  He finally reached the corner, then checked over his shoulder to confirm the coast was clear and collapsed against the first big oak tree. What in the hell had possessed him to sprint and catch up with her? He shouldn’t have been running without the knee brace. But when Rachel had raced past his window as if she was running for her life, he’d dropped his free weights, grabbed his water bottle and hauled butt after her.

  A high-pitched yap alerted him that he wasn’t alone. Mrs. Hines and her twin yippy dogs were coming his way. The sympathy in her smile and pity in her eyes wrenched his gut. Pity, for crissakes. He could handle anything but that.

  “’Morning, Matthew. Where’s Buddy?”

  He’d left so fast he’d forgotten his dog. “At home basking in the sun.”

  “Knee bothering you today?”

  He cursed his weakness and his need to conceal his limitations from people. Forcing a smile, he answered, “No. I’m good, thanks. You’re up early.”

  “My babies wanted their walk. Are you sure you’re okay? That was a mighty fierce scowl on your face.”

  “I’m fine. But thanks for your concern.”

  “My arthritis acts up when a storm front moves in. Maybe your injury does, too. I can call your mother if you need a ride home. I’m sure she’s already up and in her garden.”

  That was the last thing he wanted. Mom would kick into overprotective mode, and she’d lecture all the way home. “The exercise is good for me.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. Anyway, I have to set an example for my players. Have a good day, Mrs. Hines. I better head home if I’m going to make it to school on time.”

  She patted his biceps. “You’re still our star, Matthew. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  Humiliation scalded his neck. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He waved and walked away fighting every step not to limp.

  “Your house is the other way, son.”

  He winced. “I’m going around the block, then cutting through the cemetery.” Otherwise he might run into Rachel again. He didn’t want her to see him like this. At least she’d dumped him before he’d crashed and burned on the field. The play had tangled up in his head that fateful day. Dyslexia was like that. Twisting things.

  Usually, he could compensate, but sometimes when he was stressed, tired or distracted, things mixed up, and that day he’d thought he’d spotted Rachel in the stands. He’d been sacked, his knee destroyed, and just that quickly, his promising career had ended. Washed up at twenty-three. He’d returned to college for an advanced degree because he couldn’t bear going home a failure. When he had come back, the pity in the townsfolks’ eyes had burned him like acid. But he’d channeled his discomfort into being the best damned coach and athletic director he could be, and his team had made the championship again this year. He’d given the good citizens of Johnstonville another reason to be proud of him.

  On the walk home the image of Rachel distracted him. Her body had matured well. Her legs were as sleek as he remembered, but she’d added lean muscles, and her breasts were larger. Not even a top that flattened them could hide her pebbled nipples.

  His knee and crotch screamed for attention. He needed a cold shower and the ice pack he kept waiting in the freezer. Damn, he hated weakness. Almost as much as he hated realizing he wasn’t over Rachel Bishop.

  * * *

  RACHEL PALMED HER PHONE, knowing she was about to make her boss and the rest of her team very unhappy. She hoped Marcia wouldn’t fire her. S
he loved and needed her job, even if she hadn’t yet figured out who’d watch Chastity during her shifts.

  Marcia answered on the first ring. “Hey, Rachel. Home yet?”

  She took a deep breath, as if preparing to dive from a high cliff. “No. I’m going to need more time off.”

  Silence. “How much more time?”

  “Five weeks. Chastity isn’t taking to the idea of changing schools. She wants to finish here...to make the transition easier.” Empty air greeted her words. Rachel’s pulse pounded her eardrums.

  “You’re putting us in a tough spot.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. It isn’t fair to ask others to pick up my slack. But this is important.” Marcia was a mother with children close to Chastity’s age. Maybe she’d have answers. “Chastity’s threatening to run away if I force the move. I know it’s a power play, but she’s only thirteen, and I can’t watch her 24/7 and make sure she doesn’t follow through with her threat. Marcia, I don’t know what to do.”

  A heavy sigh filled Rachel’s ear. “You’ll learn. She’s at a difficult age. I’m there with my daughter, too. Chastity’s a smart kid to hit you with the one thing you can’t control. Let me think...” Marcia paused for just a few seconds. “Gaining custody is like an adoption. And I believe you can apply for family medical leave over the internet. That’ll keep your health insurance intact and free me up to hire a temp until you return.”

  Relief flooded Rachel. She didn’t have a computer, but she’d find one, even if it meant hanging out in the public library. “Thank you for understanding. I’ll do it ASAP. And again, I apologize.”

  “Do what’s best for your niece. We’ll muddle through until you get back.”

  “I’m going to need another favor when we get there... I’ll need help finding someone to watch her during my shifts.”

  “I’ll line up some possibilities.”

  “You’re a lifesaver, Marcia.”

  Weak-kneed, Rachel sank into a chair. She’d be stuck in Matt’s hometown for five more weeks. But not one day more.

  * * *

  CHASTITY’S HUMMING PROVED her excitement over the upcoming picnic. Rachel only wished she could share the enthusiasm. “You promise you won’t give me grief in five weeks’ time?”

  “I promised like three times already. You don’t have to keep asking.”

  Rachel had asked several times, but she was extremely nervous about the potential fallout if things went sour.

  The Johnstons’ house came into view. The white home with its black shutters and wraparound porch, decorated with hanging baskets overflowing with blossoms, represented every fantasy Rachel had ever had of a happy, normal home. She couldn’t recall her parents ever having a permanent residence. When they’d lived in the States they’d been dependent on the church to provide temporary accommodations, because they were always waiting for the next mission, the next cause. They’d literally owned nothing except for their clothes and necessities.

  Her stomach tensed and her hands tightened on the steering wheel. The Johnstons had always represented the perfect family—the kind she’d wished she had—and she dreaded looking them in the eye, knowing how she’d wronged them.

  It always came back to the mistakes she’d made. No matter how many good things she’d done since that traumatic turning point in her life, she felt as if she’d always be the screwup who’d tainted everyone and everything in her path. She’d disappointed her parents, made her saintly sister lie and hadn’t been good enough to raise her own daughter.

  She parked the car. Chastity launched from the vehicle and raced around the side of the house, leaving Rachel alone with her doubts. She forced herself to get out of the car and ordered her feet forward. They hesitantly complied. Then Matt came around the corner. Her heart crashed into her rib cage, and her courage fled.

  With the sun glinting off his golden hair and the sky-blue color of his polo shirt accentuating his eyes, Matt looked every inch the all-American male, the hometown hero. Her mouth dried and her pulse raced. Apparently the old saying was true. A girl never forgot her first love.

  “Glad you made it.”

  Rachel forced a smile, pretending she was happy to be there. She tugged at the suddenly tight neck of her T-shirt and smoothed a hand over her shorts to wipe her sweat-dampened palms, then used the excuse of stuffing her key and wallet into her pockets to avoid his outstretched hand. “Chastity was as thrilled as you predicted.”

  “You could have joined us at church.”

  “We were packing.” She hadn’t set foot in a church since the day she’d given birth. That day she’d stopped by the hospital chapel to beg forgiveness for her selfish ways and vowed to put others first from that moment forward if God would look out for her daughter. He’d upheld his end of the deal, and she had hers.

  “Come on back.” He held open the gate to a white picket fence. She sidled through the gap, being careful not to touch him. He represented everything she couldn’t have and didn’t deserve. No point in torturing herself. The gate snapped shut behind them, startling her with the finality of that clang.

  A dozen people occupied the backyard, giving Rachel a serious case of stage fright. Chastity and a blond-haired girl sat poolside, dangling their feet in the water and leaning close to whisper. A couple of men, beers in hand, guarded the grill, and several giggling, squealing children played in a water sprinkler on the lawn.

  Chastity fit right in here. But Rachel had denied her the opportunity to be part of this rambunctious, happy family. Would they have accepted “Rachel the Rebel’s daughter”?

  A woman with the same golden hair as Matt’s, albeit glinting with silver strands in the sunlight, came toward them. Rachel identified Matt’s mother even though they’d never met. Carol Johnston had passed on her chiseled lips and determined chin to her son and granddaughter. How could they not see the resemblance? The knot of guilt tightened in Rachel’s belly.

  “Rachel, welcome. I’m Carol, and I’ve been looking forward to meeting Chastity’s idol.” She grasped Rachel’s hand and patted the back of it.

  Thrown by the comment, Rachel blinked. “Her idol?”

  “Chastity talks about you nonstop. Practically every conversation is peppered with ‘Aunt Rachel this and Aunt Rachel that.’ You are her hero.”

  Rachel’s joy was quickly doused by the knowledge that Hope must have hated that as much as Rachel had hated living in her saintly sister’s shadow.

  Rachel stuffed her fists into her pockets as soon as Carol released her. “I guess it’s just her age. My job and travel probably sound exotic.”

  “Or it could be she sees you’re out there making a difference in the world. It’s harder to do that here in Johnstonville.”

  Matt frowned. “How do you know all this?”

  Carol shrugged. “Chastity and Jessica are practically inseparable. When they talk, I listen like a good nana. It’s the only way to know what they’re plotting. And from the stories Chastity tells, you’re far braver than I am, Rachel.”

  Chastity got to spend time with her grandmother even if she didn’t know it. Had Hope arranged that on purpose? “I’m sure Chastity enjoys her time here and that Hope appreciated your help.”

  Carol’s smile fell. “We’ll certainly miss Hope. I’m not sure what the Church Women’s Auxiliary will do without her. She was a powerhouse of ideas and energy.”

  Carol embraced her. Rachel froze in surprise. Hugs hadn’t been a part of her life. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Before she could figure it out, Carol withdrew. “I need to make sure the men aren’t charring our lunch. Matt will get you something to drink and introduce you to everyone. You might remember Pam. She graduated a couple of years ahead of you. And Jake was a year behind you.”

  Rachel dreaded the introductions. Did Matt’s siblings remember the rumors? Deb
ra Sue and her cronies had told anyone who’d listen that Rachel had slept with half the males in the senior class.

  A slender blonde with pixie-cut hair met Rachel and Matt halfway across the lawn. “I’m Pam. We’re so glad you could make it.”

  “Thank you, and thanks for taking care of Chastity last night and for all you’ve done since Hope’s...passing.”

  Pam took Rachel’s hand and squeezed it. “My pleasure. Chastity is always welcome at our house. I know you’re both going through a tough time now. If you need an ear...just call.”

  The sincere kindness in Pam’s eyes thickened Rachel’s throat. “Thank you.”

  Pam linked her arm through Rachel’s, led her to the tables and introduced her to the other adults. Bill, Matt’s father, had given both Matt and Jake his tall, athletic build. Rachel vaguely remembered Jake from the one time he’d tried to tag along with them to the lake. She’d never met his wife, Leann.

  The Johnstons’ warm welcome was overwhelming, given how badly she’d wronged them. To keep her mind off her guilt, Rachel studied the interactions between the Johnston siblings. She and Hope had never shared anything like the camaraderie and gentle, teasing barbs she observed between them.

  Matt’s father refilled Rachel’s glass. “It’s amazing what kids will come up with to get a little attention. Take those two.” He nodded toward Chastity and Jessica now swinging on a wide wooden bench hanging from a massive oak branch. “They’re trying to decide between getting their navels or tongues pierced.”

  Brad, Pam’s husband, nearly tipped over his chair. “Over my dead body.”

  Rachel agreed. “Several of the native tribes I’ve worked with practice body piercing. I can show the girls pictures of the infections the medical team treated. That might change their minds.”

  “I would appreciate that,” Pam said. “As we both know, forbidding them is the best way to guarantee they’ll find someone who’ll do it for them.”

  No, Rachel didn’t know that, but she put the tip in her mental file cabinet. She had a lot to learn about being a mother. Then Pam’s eyes met hers across the table, and Rachel felt an unexpected kinship with Matt’s sister. But it was a friendship that could never develop. Friends didn’t lie to each other.