Dylan's Redemption (18 page)

“The baby wasn’t yours. She lied to get your attention. When it didn’t work, she left you alone.”

“After the scathing things you said to her, the things you made her believe were Dylan’s words, of course she didn’t try to contact him again.” Greg swore and hung his head. “Do you have any idea what you put her through?”

“It’s her fault. She shouldn’t have lied. She should have left Dylan alone and not filled his head with nonsense.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Dylan asked, amazed this was his mother saying this bullshit. “You know, it was bad enough you sent her that email in my name, and were cruel to her on the phone, but this is unconscionable. You let me believe she was dead. You knew she was pregnant and you never told me. You let a fifteen-year-old girl, pregnant, stabbed, and alone, believe the father of her child didn’t want her. How could you do this?” The low and soft sound of his voice did nothing to cover the deadly tone.

“I’d do anything to protect you from that girl. She’s a liar and manipulator.”

Greg and John stood behind Dylan. They both put a hand on each of his shoulders to hold him back. He strained against their grip and considered strangling his own mother for what she’d done.

“After what you’ve done, what does that make you, Mother?”

She gasped and clutched her hands to her breasts. “You’ve never spoken to me in such a manner. This is her doing. I did the right thing, protecting you from that girl.”

Dylan turned to the men behind him. He owed both of them more than he could ever imagine. They’d been with Jessie through her pregnancy. They’d been there when his daughter was born. Oh, God. They’d been there when Jessie wanted to die. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.

“Tell me where my daughter is. Tell me Jessie gave her up for adoption, and she’s out there somewhere. Tell me I still have a chance to see my daughter. Please.”

Greg grabbed on to Dylan’s arm to steady him, their eyes meeting. “There’s no easy way to tell you. She died in her mother’s arms five days after her birth. Complications from pneumonia. Jessie buried her at Saint Francis Cemetery in Solomon.”

“Oh, God.” Dylan staggered backward. He gripped Will tighter. Thanks to Greg’s help, he managed to sit in a chair before he collapsed.

Tears rolled down his face and his son held him close. He stared into nothing and fell into the past, thinking of prom night and what happened to Jessie after he left.

“Her father tried to kill her, and she was pregnant with our baby.”

Anguish and misery rolled off him as he worked things out in his mind, but it never dissipated, only grew more profound.

“Fifteen and scared to death, she had no idea what she was going to do, but she wanted that baby, with or without you,” Greg said. “No matter what happened between you, she thought you deserved to know. Jessie begged your mother to give her your number, so that she could talk to you. You’d been friends for years, even if you didn’t want to be with her, she hoped to at least change your mind about the baby.”

No question Dylan wanted the baby and Jessie. Over the anger and despair he felt now, the longing for both of them grew. This couldn’t be real. How could he want them this much and live with knowing he’d lost them? Jessie would never forgive him.

It wasn’t fair that one person could interfere in two lives and change them forever. Dylan’s mother had interfered, and he and Jessie paid the price.

How could he fix this? Greg said she’d closed herself off from people, men. He understood why, but he’d held out hope he’d find a way to convince her take the chance to love him again. With every damning word Greg spoke that hope faded.

“Jessie worked for Dad and me throughout her pregnancy. She went to the doctor and took care of herself. Dad and I helped her as much as she let us. We were with her the day she went into labor.”

Dylan sat quietly listening, so Greg continued. “We took her to the hospital. You’d have been proud of her. She was a trooper through all sixteen hours of labor. Dad and I stayed, and Jessie brought that beautiful girl into the world.”

The longer Dylan sat listening to Greg tell him what he should have witnessed firsthand, the angrier he got. Dylan added up everything, calculating just how much he’d missed out on and lost. Greg had been there and seen his daughter born, while he had been in the military and none the wiser, thinking Jessie dead and gone.

“Hope arrived, six pounds and ten ounces. She had dark hair like yours and blue-gray eyes. The nurse said most babies have that color eyes when they’re born and they change. We’ll never know what color they might have been. Hope wasn’t breathing well, so they took her to the neonatal intensive care unit and a specialist checked her out. She got some fluid in her lungs during the delivery. They monitored her and gave her some medicine to clear her lungs.

“Jessie was frightened and hurting. She wanted her baby and they wouldn’t let her see her for a few hours while Jessie rested and recuperated from the delivery. I stayed with her and over the next couple days I took her in a wheelchair to see Hope. She’d sit and hold Hope. She’d cry and tell her about her daddy.”

Dylan groaned. After everything, to hear that Jessie told their daughter about him was too much to bear.

“Daddy, don’t cry. It’s okay.” Will hugged him close.

“Daddy’s very sad, little man. My heart is broken.”

“Mommy will fix it. She can kiss it better. I’ll ask her when she wakes up.”

Dylan hugged Will tighter. He’d have to explain he couldn’t just pick Jessie to be his mother. As much as Dylan wanted Jessie back, he didn’t think she’d ever forgive him for not being there when their daughter died.

“Finish it,” Dylan demanded, knowing there was still more to tell.

Greg took a deep breath, leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and held back tears. Dylan read Greg’s pain and felt it as his own.

“You want to know how she died?”

Dylan nodded and Greg reluctantly finished the sad tale. “She was a beautiful baby. Her breathing and overall health improved, and then on the third day she had a reaction to some medication the doctors gave her. It weakened her even more. Jessie stayed with her every second the doctors allowed. On the fifth day she stopped breathing. They tried to revive her. They couldn’t bring her back. Her lungs were too weak and damaged. Hope never took another breath on her own. It took them the better part of six hours to get Jessie to give her up. She wouldn’t let anyone touch Hope. She sat rocking her in her arms.”

Greg wiped his eyes. “Sorry, the memory is too painful to bear.” He cleared his throat, choking back the tears as best he could. “I took Jessie home, helped her make the funeral arrangements, and two days later we buried Hope. It’s like I told you. She lost Hope, her daughter, and all the hope in her heart.”

“What did she put on the grave marker?” Dylan asked in barely a whisper.

“Do you want to know her name? Her whole name.”

Dylan nodded.

“The gravestone reads, ‘Hope Danielle McBride.’ Below the dates of her birth and death, it reads, ‘Mommy’s little girl.’”

“She named the baby after me. She gave her my name.” Dylan’s voice broke.

“Yes,” Greg said. “There’s nothing else to say. Jessie loved you. She loved you enough to name your daughter after you, even though at the time, she thought you didn’t want them.”

“She was devastated. You said you thought she wanted to die.” Dylan could just imagine how Jessie felt. He wanted to curl up and die right now too. The only thing that kept him from shattering and in one piece was his son now playing on the floor and Jessie lying hurt in a hospital bed.

“Yes. I don’t know what finally brought her around, or if anything, except Jessie’s inner strength finally pulled her through. Dad and I tried everything to bring her back from despair. Nothing we said or did worked. It was all Jessie. She never came back a hundred percent. She doesn’t smile like she means it. She doesn’t laugh with her whole heart. She doesn’t live life to the fullest. She doesn’t let any man get close.”

“You said she hasn’t dated anyone.”

“No one. She’s afraid to love again. Everyone she loved hurt her or left her. She won’t allow that to happen again. I hate telling you this, but Dylan, you need to know just how much Jessie suffered.”

Greg turned his hard gaze on Dylan’s mother. “Are you pleased? Did she suffer enough, pay enough for having the audacity to love your son? I hope you rot in hell for all the pain you’ve caused.”

Greg sighed, reining in his temper. “She shifted her focus, went to college and worked for Dad. She started her own business with Dad’s help. All of that gave her a sense of purpose, but not the happiness she deserves.”

“See, she just wanted to get money,” Dylan’s mother accused. “How’d she pay for college, or starting a business? That’s the only reason she called, for the money.”

John stood, arms crossed over his chest, and scowled. “I can’t believe you’re a mother. There’s no love in your cold heart.

“She worked for me, and she got a couple small scholarships. When she would come up short, I gave her the money to finish her degree. When she wanted to start her company, I gave her the money. She didn’t ask for it. I offered. She paid me back with interest. Every dollar. Every dime. Every penny. She worked harder than two of my men combined to earn her pay. She gave me more joy in my life, as if she’d been my own daughter. She worries about me, fusses over me, and generally treats me like family. That girl is better than any two people I know and a million times better than you’ll ever be. You betrayed her. You betrayed your own son. Because of you, he never got the chance to see his daughter.”

“Did you hold her, sir? Did you get to touch her?” Dylan asked, his voice raw.

“Yes, son. I did. Jessie honored me by placing that sweet baby girl in my arms. Besides holding my own son in my arms, there was nothing better. I’m sorry for your loss. More sorry than I can say.”

Dylan didn’t know what to say. He looked up at Greg with the same question in his eyes. He didn’t know why it mattered so much to him to know these men held his daughter when he never got the chance.

“Yes, Dylan. I held her on one of the few times Jessie gave her up, even for a minute. Even at sixteen, you could see Jessie would have been a great mother. In those few days, she loved her little girl enough for a lifetime.”

Chapter Nineteen

D
YLAN FISTED HIS
hands then opened them wide. Empty. He hadn’t gotten to hold or love his daughter. He hadn’t even known about her. His mother denied Jessie the simple courtesy of telling her how to contact him. Worse, she’d denied him the chance to know his daughter in the short time she’d been here. Five days. Five days that he’d never get back. Years that Jessie thought him so callous and heartless he didn’t want her.

Years he spent thinking she was dead.

Will sat on the floor pulling pages out of a magazine. He made a mess, but Dylan didn’t care. Let him wreck the place. He was a kid. They made messes.

Then it hit him. Will. He stood and turned to his mother.

“You knew about Jessie and the baby and you didn’t say anything all these years. Not even when I adopted Will. You knew about his parents and how he came to me, and you never said anything. You accepted Will as part of the family, but you wouldn’t accept your own granddaughter. Why? Why would you do that? Because you didn’t think Jessie was good enough for me?”

“You deserve better. You’re a McBride. As for the baby, well, we’ll never know for sure she was yours.”

Both men grabbed his shoulders again as he took a step toward his mother. He stopped, but the urge to slap her was so great he fisted his hands at his side to keep from following through with the impulse.

“I felt sorry for Jessie, but nothing could be done once the baby died,” his mother said cruelly. “What good would it do to tell you after the fact? I didn’t want to hurt you. It doesn’t change anything,” she said, further damning herself in Dylan’s eyes.

Greg tapped Dylan’s arm. “Wait a second, what do you mean you adopted Will? He isn’t yours?” Greg asked.

“I chose Daddy and now I’ve chosen a mommy. When will she wake up? I’m hungry.”

“Come here, sweetheart. Grandma will take you to get something to eat.”

“No, you won’t,” Dylan snapped. “Do you really think I’ll let you anywhere near my son, give you a chance to corrupt him with your cold miserable heart?”

His son was three years old. Hope never even saw her first birthday. “Little man, Daddy will get you something to eat in a minute. Jessie won’t wake up for a long time. She’s hurt real bad and the doctors are making her sleep.”

His mother clasped her hands against her heart. “Dylan, you can’t mean to keep me from my grandson. You know how much I love him. You’re upset. This will all be straightened out when Jessie admits she lied. The baby wasn’t yours.”

“Hope was mine. I made love to Jessie without even thinking about protecting her. I couldn’t look past having her in my arms. If I didn’t make love to her, I didn’t want to take my next breath. I love her that much, Mother. I loved her then. I love her now. I will love her, and only her, the rest of my life. I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done, and everything you’ve taken from me.” Which probably included Jessie, because she’d never forgive him after what his mother did.

He took a breath and tried to remember this was his mother. He tried to find the love he’d felt for her just hours ago, but he couldn’t find it in his heart. Would he ever feel that way about her again?

“Jessie saved Will today. How do I thank her for saving my son when I wasn’t there for her and our daughter? How do I say thank you for keeping my son safe when our daughter is dead?” He growled the last word, unable to contain his fury.

His mother tried desperately to explain herself again. “How could God be so cruel as to keep my grandson safe only to turn you against me? Don’t you see, it can’t be changed? It’s in the past. That’s why when you adopted Will I never said anything. The baby was already gone. You have to understand why I did it. The baby wasn’t yours.”