Belonging (39 page)

"Not many people can handle more than one of
Herb's cinnamon rolls." She grinned. "Fact is, he makes the best
rolls in town."

Jenna nodded politely and commented, "It's
so quiet here; it's hard to believe that Abilene is less than
thirty miles away."

"It's not always like this," the waitress
said with a wink. "After dark things tend to liven up a bit. You
know how some men are about dropping in for a few beers after
work—" She shook her curly head and grinned. "They talk about women
being no better than a bunch of cacklin' hens when they get
together, but I'll never believe it."

The waitress took advantage of the lull in
customers and returned the coffee carafe to the hot plate, then
came back to Jenna. The look she gave her was amicable but
inquisitive. "You stayin' at the motel across the street?"

Jenna nodded.

"Just passing through, I'll bet."

"Yes and no. Actually, I hope to be staying
a few days." She hesitated, but couldn't help responding to the
woman's friendliness. "I'm here to see the Garrisons—the Ward
Garrisons. Do you know them?"

"Not personally." The woman shook her head,
and a shadow passed swiftly over her face. "Don't see much of him
anymore since... well, that's beside the point." She eyed Jenna
curiously. "Are you a friend of the family?"

"A friend of the family?" For some reason
the term sent an unexpected pain shooting through her heart. On
blood ties alone, she was practically a member of the family. She
resisted the impulse to laugh hysterically. Instead she gathered
herself quickly under control and nodded. "Megan and I... were
good friends some time ago. But I'm afraid I've lost the address
after all these years." She tipped her head to the side and smiled
encouragingly. "I don't suppose you happen to know where they
live?"

The waitress shook her head apologetically.
"Sorry—no. Wait a minute!" She snapped her fingers, already
heading toward the kitchen. "I'll bet Herb knows. He's lived here
forever."

"Take the first road to the left heading
north out of town. Turn left again at the first intersection," she
announced, bustling through the double doors a moment later. "It's
the house at the end of the gravel road. Only one there, so you
can't miss it."

"Thanks so much. I'll just be on my way,
then." Jenna smiled gratefully and paid for her breakfast. Glancing
back, she saw the waitress gazing after her with an odd look in her
eyes. Jenna sent a little wave over her shoulder as she exited the
tiny caf6.

She quickly walked across the street to
where her car was parked in front of her motel room. She inserted
the key in the lock, but suddenly she stopped, one hand poised on
the dark blue roof as her mother's words from yesterday came back
to her. How would Megan feel about her dropping in without any
warning? It could be quite a shock, she suddenly realized. For a
moment she hesitated, temptation almost overruling reason in this
instance. Then, with a sigh, she turned and trudged the few steps
to her room.

Inside, she sat down on the double bed and
reached for the phone. The Garrisons' phone number popped into her
head without conscious thought, and for a moment she sat stunned.
Why was it that she remembered it after all this time? Was it
because she hadn't wanted to forget? Her hand gripped the receiver
as she recalled the last time she'd telephoned, to let them know
her labor had started. Once again she could hear Megan's ecstatic
voice coming over the wire.

"Oh, Jenna, I can't believe it! It's finally
about to happen! A baby—our very own baby! We'll be there as soon
as we can."

The memory was both poignant and sweet, and
Jenna took a deep, shuddering breath to force back the odd
sensation gripping her heart. She punched out the number with
steady hands, aware of a faint flutter in her chest as she eased
back on the bed and waited.

The phone rang once, twice and then again.
Jenna felt her heart beating crazily.

"Hello?"

She couldn't prevent a note of breathless
excitement from entering her voice. "Megan?" She sat forward on
the edge of the bed, her body taut as a bowstring. "Is that you,
Megan?"

There was a long silence, and then a female
voice demanded, "Who is this?"

Recoiling from the sharp
tone, she shifted uneasily as she realized it wasn't Megan who had
answered. "I... my name is Jenna Bradford." She heard a soft gasp
but paid no mind. Her tone was cautious but hopeful as she spoke to
the woman on the other end of the line. "I've just driven all the
way from Galveston and I was calling to see if I might be able to
see—''
Robbie
. She
stopped the word from slipping off her tongue just in time.
"Megan," she finished hastily. A little puzzled by the awkward
silence that followed, she bit her lip. "I'm sorry...I must have
dialed the wrong number."

"No. No, this is the right number."

The admission came readily enough, but there
was something in the tone... it was brusque, even a little hostile.
Jenna's words were polite but guarded. "If I have the right number,
then who are you?"

Again there was a long empty silence before
the unknown woman spoke. "Eileen. Eileen Swenson." She seemed to
hesitate. "I'm Ward's sister."

Ward's sister. No wonder the surprise at her
name. "Then you know who I am," she said softly.

"Yes—yes, I do. And I think I know why
you're here."

There was no denying the challenging note in
Eileen Swenson's voice. If this was any indication of how Megan or
Ward would feel... She could only pray it wasn't. She prickled a
little but said politely, "If it's not too much trouble, could you
put either Megan or Ward on the phone?''

There was a seemingly endless silence.
"Megan's dead," the woman finally said quietly.

Dead...Megan was dead. Her mind reeled. It
didn't seem possible. She'd never known her, not really. Was it
possible to mourn someone's death without ever really knowing that
person? But certainly Jenna knew all she needed to know. Megan was
a warm, vital woman whose capacity for love went far beyond any
ordinary measure, if indeed love could be measured. A dozen
questions tumbled around in her brain. How had Megan died? And
when? She couldn't suppress a burning feel of resentment against
Ward for not letting her know, even while the rational part of her
argued there was no need for her to know.

But suddenly she remembered Robbie. Megan
was gone, but did that change anything? Her reason for being here?
No.

"I'm sorry," Jenna said softly. "When...
?"

Eileen Swenson had no trouble understanding.
"About a year and a half ago."

She twirled the cord around her finger and
thought a moment. "Mrs. Swenson, I'd still like to talk to
Ward—"

"He isn't here."

Jenna took a deep breath. "Then could you
give him a message for me?''

"I'm sorry. I—I don't know when I'll see him
again."

The woman was beginning to sound a little
agitated. "Look," Jenna said evenly, choosing her words carefully.
"I'm really not here to cause trouble, but don't you think you
should let Ward decide whether he wants to talk to me?"

"I'm not lying," the woman defended herself.
"He isn't here and I couldn't say when he'll be back. I only
stopped by this morning to check on the house while he's away."

"Where is he?"

"New Mexico. He's working on an irrigation
project there."

New
Mexico
...Lord, and she'd come so far
already. Her muscles tensed with an emotion she wasn't yet ready
to name. "I see," she said slowly. "Is Robbie with
him?"

"No. He's staying with me. But please don't
ask to see him. I couldn't possibly agree without Ward's
permission."

Jenna's body went limp with despair. "I
understand." Her voice sounded as hollow as she felt inside. She
wasn't such a fool that she didn't know that engineering projects
sometimes lasted weeks, months even. But suddenly there was a
glimmer of life inside her. Surely Ward wouldn't leave Robbie for
weeks at a time. "Do you expect him back soon?" She made no attempt
to disguise her hopefulness.

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of
the line. "I'm really not sure. Early next week maybe, but as 1
said before, I'm not certain." It was obvious the admission was
made with great reluctance. "I'll let Ward know you're here... if
you decide to wait around that long. Where are you staying?"

"I'll be here," Jenna promised in a low
voice. "I'm at the Sundowner Motel." She paused. "Mrs.
Swenson...?"

"Yes?"

"I—thank you. Thank you for telling me."

The moment stretched out into a taut
silence. When Eileen Swenson finally spoke, her voice sounded oddly
strained. "Don't thank me yet. For all I know, you may have made
the trip for nothing."

Jenna stared pensively out the window after
hanging up the phone. The shimmering sunlight outside seemed a
stark contrast to the dark emptiness of her mood. Apparently, all
the odds were stacked against her. It had all started with her
vague, restless feelings about Neil, and then he had warned her
against coming. Then her car had broken down, and now—this. Megan
was dead, and Jenna had been so certain she would let her see
Robbie. It would be days before Ward returned, a hollow voice
inside her protested. Better to go home now and forget she had ever
come, forget she had even tried to see Robbie, forget he had ever
been born.

But she couldn't. Dear Lord, she
couldn't.

Refusing to give in to that tiny voice,
Jenna got up, grabbed her purse and walked outside. Dispiritedly
she walked the few blocks to the town's business district. There
was more to the town than she had originally thought; she noticed
at least three drugstores, a steakhouse and several more small
cafes, one small but complete department store, one clothing shop,
even a movie theater and a playhouse. All the amenities of a city,
Jenna thought to herself halfheartedly, but without quite the
variety to choose from.

Her steps eventually took her back to the
motel, and Jenna found herself driving toward the Garrison place.
The directions she'd been given earlier unconsciously guided her.
Before she knew it, her car was parked in the gravel drive and her
feet were carrying her toward the front door. Her footsteps echoed
emptily as she mounted the steps, and for a fraction of a second,
she stopped before lifting her hand to the brass knocker.

Silence greeted her.

After a long moment of almost fearful
waiting, she turned and trudged slowly down the steps, her
emotions so tangled that she felt unable to sort through them.

Taking a deep breath, Jenna forced her
attention back to her surroundings. Beyond the cross-fenced
boundaries of the small acreage the plains stretched for miles,
rolling and clipping endlessly, glinting yellow in the bright
September sunlight. In the distance she could see the sun-baked,
gently rolling hills to the west. Settling herself under a towering
cottonwood tree, she turned her eyes once again to the two-story
farmhouse.

The yard was well kept, and the white
clapboard exterior of the house looked newly painted. Although it
was quiet outside, there was a warm, homey look to the house
itself. A wide swing hung from the porch rafters near the front
window. Jenna could almost visualize the inside, cheerful and cozy,
a comfortable sofa laden with pillows in the living room, thick
braided rugs covering the floor and knickknacks and treasures
strewn throughout. The urge to scramble to the window and peer
through the sheer curtains was so strong that she almost succumbed.
Only the feeling that she would be spying, intruding where she had
no business, prevented her from doing exactly that.

The thought sent a chill through her. Why
had she come here? She agonized silently. Despite what Eileen
Swenson had told her—that Megan was dead and Ward was gone—had she
really believed it? Had she really expected the door to be thrown
open and to be welcomed with open arms? She shivered. No. She could
never expect that from Ward. She didn't know how she knew, but she
did.

What if he said no? What would she do then?
Could she deal with it, or would she handle it the way she had
handled h all this time, sweeping her feelings under the rug once
more? Denying the hopeless longing to see her child, to hold him,
to know him? All these months—years!—she hadn't let herself think
of him, but no matter how hard she tried, the memory was always
there, lurking in some distant corner of her mind. Denied but never
forgotten. For the first time, she realized how desperately afraid
she was that Ward would refuse to let her see Robbie.

But her need outweighed her fear by far.

"Oh, Robbie," she murmured faintly,
fervently. "I'm so close." Slowly she closed her eyes, unable to
stop a wave of despair from sweeping through her. She heard words
spinning through her brain—words she couldn't speak. So near and
yet so far.

Her entire body trembled as
she stumbled to the car and started the engine. She drove back to
the motel in the same trancelike state she had left it. Outside,
the small town went about its business while Jenna shut herself
away in her room.
Neil...Megan...Robbie
... Faces
whirled through her imagination, the features obscure and blurred.
The squall of a newborn infant resounded in her subconscious and
she flinched.

Finally she stumbled over to the bed and lay
down, her body curled in a tight ball. She knew she desperately
needed an outlet for all the pent-up emotion inside her, but as
always, the tears refused to come. All the pain was tightly locked
up inside her, and her heart was an unbearable weight in her
chest.