Jake's Bride (20 page)

Sara turned in his arms.  "If I give you one, you'll want six.  I know you and chocolate chip cookies."

"What about a kiss instead?"

"One or six?" she teased, taking a tremulous breath.

"I'll start with one."  He tried to keep the kiss teasing and gentle and light, but as soon as he tasted her, he wanted much more than a sample kiss.  Christopher was napping upstairs, but Gillian was close by in the office.

Calling on all the restraint he possessed, he ended the kiss and lifted his head.

Sara smiled.  "I guess I could give you a plate of cookies to share with Gillian."

"Ah, the bribery worked.  Little do you know but my partner's leaving soon so I'll have them all to myself."

Sara poked him in the ribs.  "I'll say good-bye before I go upstairs to wrap presents."

Jake raised the envelope he'd been holding in his hand.  "I have something for you besides a kiss."

Sara glanced at the letterhead and took the envelope from him, sliding her finger under the flap and opening it.  Withdrawing the sheet of paper, she unfolded it.  "My final course schedule.  Everything is set."  With a quick grin, she said, "I'm really going back to school."

"You're excited about it."

"Yes.  And grateful.  I appreciate this opportunity, Jake.  When I'm finished, I'll be able to teach and maybe make a difference."

He had no doubt she'd make a good teacher.  But he couldn't help but wonder if she would have continued to work in a day care center or if she would have tried to follow her dream on her own if they hadn't gotten married.  The doubts always snatched at his happiness. 

"I'd better get back to Gillian.  The sooner we go through that last batch of letters, the sooner she'll get home."  Jake left the kitchen, forgetting about the cookies.

Back in his office a few minutes later, he sank into his swivel chair.

"What happened?" Gillian asked.

"Nothing happened."

"You've been different lately.  I thought maybe it was the season but my guess is your good mood has more to do with you and Sara.  Except now, you left happy and came back sad."

"I'm trying to get my life in order and make a marriage with Sara.  We're having our ups and downs.  That's all."

"What's going on, Jake?  I spend a lot of time in this office with you, and I think I know you.  You're fighting some kind of battle and you won't let anyone help."

"Nobody can help."

"Not even Sara?"

"Sara's a part of the battle.  We're getting closer.  Sometimes it feels right.  Sometimes it's damned uncomfortable."

"What's uncomfortable?"

"What I feel when I'm with her.  The things she stirs up."

"What things?"

He could get annoyed with Gillian for prying or he could think about her question.  "Feelings.  Memories.  My father leaving.  My mother taking her life."

"Your son."

"Yes, Davie.  Christopher reminds me of him, yet he has Sara's smile and her enthusiasm for anything new."

"But you sound as if that hurts you instead of bringing you pleasure."

"It does.  I don't know why.  It just does.  That's what's confusing as hell."

"And as lonely," Gillian offered softly.

"I'm used to being alone."

"Being alone and being lonely are two different things."

The phone rang, and Gillian picked it up.  From the quality of her smile, Jake knew who was on the other end before she covered the mouthpiece and said, "It's Nathan."

To her husband, she explained, "We have a stack of emails to go through yet.  And I'd like to get some of the names into the computer."

Jake picked up the phone on his desk.  "She'll be home as soon as she can.  It's Christmas Eve and she should be with you and Matthew.  Hang up your stocking, Bradley.  Maybe Santa will come up with that Italian sports car you've had your eye on."  Jake hung up the phone.

Gillian laughed.  "Nathan?  I guess Jake's saying he'll finish up here.  I'll leave now.  And when I get home, we'll talk about this item you must have asked Santa about but forgot to mention to me."  She laughed again at something her husband said, tenderly murmured "I love you," and hung up.  Then she grinned at Jake.  "He said he'll get you later."

Sara appeared in the doorway to the office with a plate of cookies and put them on her husband's desk.  "Gillian, I wanted to wish you a merry Christmas before I go upstairs."

"Merry Christmas to you, too.  Do you have plans for tomorrow evening?" Gillian asked.

Jake chuckled.  "Just playing with Christopher's toys."

"Then, why don't you come over?  Mom's cooking up a storm.  Nathan's girls will be there, too."

Jake looked at Sara and saw from her expression that she'd like to go.  "Around six?"

Gillian took her purse from the bottom desk drawer.  "Six is good."  Coming out from behind the desk, she gave Jake a hug.  "I hope Santa brings you everything you wish for."  Releasing Jake, she went to Sara and gave her a hug.  "And you, too."

Sara said to Jake, "I'll see Gillian to the door."

As the two women walked through the living room, Sara offered, "I'll bring along fudge I made if that's okay."

"If you have any left."

"I made two batches.  Christopher and Jake don't know about the second one."

Gillian laughed.  "Bring your aunt along if she'd like to come."

"I'm sure she will.  She's coming for dinner and probably will stay through the afternoon."  Sara opened the door for Gillian.  "I want to thank you for your friendship.  It means more than you know."

"You're an easy person to be friends with.  Have a wonderful Christmas Eve.  I'll see you tomorrow."

Sara closed the door.  Tonight would be wonderful if she had anything to say about it--a festive dinner, hanging their stockings, reading Christopher holiday stories.  Then after their son went to bed, maybe she and Jake could exchange their presents...then fall asleep in each other's arms.

#

Jake was typing information into the computer when his fax machine beeped.  One piece of paper hummed out, then a second and a third.  He swiveled toward the machine and lifted them out.

The first sheet was a letter from Sara's lawyer.  Jake would have just collected the papers and taken them upstairs to Sara except one phrase caught his eye and the number on the line shocked him.  The printed words jumped at him.  Her lawyer urged her to accept the offer for her mother's land in Arizona, an offer for ten acres of land that spread over six digits!

As Jake read the letter, then looked over the contract, confusion rose in him.  She'd said it was a little plot of land.  Ten acres wasn't "little."  Had she known about this offer?  Had she known the property was worth this much?  Had she lied to him again?

The figure blurred in front of his eyes.  The turmoil inside him blinded him to gentler emotions that had been growing since his wedding day.  The pain in his heart swelled until he rammed his fist on the desk.  Damn her.  Damn her for not telling him the truth.  She'd said her parents had bought a little plot of land that was in the middle of nowhere...that might not ever sell!

With his hand closed on the papers, he mounted the steps slowly, dreading facing Sara, yet knowing he had no choice.  Fleetingly, he thought about waiting to confront her, playing out Christmas Eve as if nothing had happened.  But he wasn't an actor and he could never hide the betrayal he was feeling.  Besides, Sara only had forty-eight hours to decide if she'd accept the offer.  Why wouldn't she?  Unless she knew the property could possibly bring in even more!

In his soul, he knew why she'd kept the truth from him, but he wanted to hear her say it.

Sara sat on Jake's bed, Christmas wrapping paper and bows scattered around her.  She folded the paper on one end of a box and secured it with tape.  As she looked up, she smiled.

But her smile faded when she saw his expression.  "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong.  At least not for you.  You're sitting pretty.  Your lawyer just faxed you an offer on that plot of land in Arizona.  Some 'little' plot."  Jake dropped the papers on the bed.

Picking them up, she skimmed the letter.  "Oh-my-gosh!  I never expected anything like this."

"Drop the act, Sara."

Her chin came up.  "Excuse me?"

"You can cut the surprise.  A little plot of land, you said.  Might never sell, you said.  Some little plot of land.  Did you expect me to not find out about it?  I guess I never mentioned I told your lawyer he could use my fax number to send paperwork to you.  If I hadn't made the offer, maybe I wouldn't have found out."

"Just what are you accusing me of?"  Her voice had risen to match his.

"I'm accusing you of deceit.  Again.  You're getting good at it, Sara.  Sorry I interfered."

"You're not making sense, Jake.  I didn't know the land was worth this.  I thought Mom and Dad had bought it almost like a dream to believe in."

"It's ten acres, Sara.  That's no 'little' plot of land."

"I didn't know it was ten acres.  Don't you understand?  I never knew exactly what it was."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Why shouldn't you?"

"Because you lied to me before," he almost shouted, the pain of losing her the first time still raw, the pain of losing his wife and son hitting him in the gut, the pain of missing Christopher's first three years hurting so badly he didn't think he'd ever forget it.

"Oh, Jake.  I thought you were beginning to forgive me.  But you haven't even started.  Why would I lie to you?  Why would I keep this from you no matter how much it was worth?"

The sadness on her face seemed real.  Yet...  "You came to me with no job and practically nothing.  You needed help."

Her back straightened and she held her head high.  "I did not need help.  I came to you so you could get to know your son...and...and because I still loved you."

How he wished he could believe that.  His childhood experiences, his cynicism as a cop, his doubts about Sara's motives told him otherwise.  "No.  You knew if you had nothing, I'd take pity on you.  I'd want to provide for you and our son."

"Pity?  That's why you married me?"  She seemed shocked.

He could deny it.  He could tell her...  What?  That memories of what they'd had had played into the decision? That he'd started to trust her again but now all the doubts were back and maybe pity was all that was left?  He wanted to escape his pain and some of it was landing on her.  All he could do was tell her the truth.  "I wanted to be near my son.  You knew I'd jump on that chance after losing Davie.  Marriage seemed to be the best way to accomplish that."

He saw her quick intake of breath before she said, "If I had known that was the only reason—"  Her words seemed to get tied up in her throat.

He knew the feeling.

But then she managed to say, "I wouldn't marry a man who only married me out of pity.  And if I thought Christopher was the only reason you asked me, I would have said no.  I thought we still had something left.  I have more self-respect than to be part of a loveless marriage."  Her voice had risen and she took a deep calming breath.  "But you seem to think you know everything.  So what was I going to do when you did find out how much the property was worth?  As my husband, you would have found out eventually."

The answer was obvious to him and ready on his tongue.  It had a bitter taste.  "That property could have taken forever to sell.  As your lawyer explains, this development company sees the potential in it.  My guess is when the windfall came through, then you were going to divorce me.  Community property, profits from that land...  You'd no longer need me to finance your life, your education, or Christopher's for that matter."

"You are so wrong."

His hands balled into fists as he gave her the suspicions that had burdened him since she returned, the suspicions that now seemed justified because of her lawyer's letter.  "Not from where I'm standing.  You didn't tell me you were pregnant.  It took you until Christopher was more than three years old to tell me I had a son.  Why?  You lose your job.  Your mother, your only security in this world dies.  You feel adrift.  You know you'll get little money from her belongings, and you have nothing else except a valuable piece of land.  The problem is--it's not valuable unless it sells, and you have no idea when that will be.  So you come to me, to use me, until you and Christopher don't need me anymore.  It's all so clear now."

She hopped up from the bed, her movement causing rolls of paper to tumble to the floor.  "Clear?  The only thing that's clear is how muddled your thinking is.  The trouble is--I know better than to try and convince you otherwise because you're more stubborn than any mule!"  Hurrying to the hallway, she headed for the stairs.

In a few quick strides, Jake snagged her arm.  "Where are you going?"

"For a walk.  To sort things out.  To think about the real estate offer.  To pray that when I come back, you'll be willing to listen to reason."

On that note, she pulled away and hurried down the steps.  The front door slammed, the sound reverberating through the house.