Jake's Bride (4 page)

"You don't know what kind of father he'll be."

"I think I do.  Just look at them."

Father and son hunkered down over a pile of rocks.  Christopher pointed out something.

"The novelty might wear off."

Sara knew her aunt was playing devil's advocate.  "No.  Jake's not that type of man.  He doesn't pretend what he doesn't feel."

Eloise faced her niece.  "Do you think he'll be staying for supper?"

"I have no idea, Aunt El.  I have no idea what Jake's going to do.  I'll have to wait and see."

#

Sitting in the sun on the warm grass beside Christopher, Jake couldn't help staring at the boy.  He looked so much like Davie.  His features--Jake's features.  His eyes--Jake's eyes.  Had Christopher looked like Davie as an infant, as a one-year-old?  How old was he when he cut his first tooth, said his first word, took his first step?

Jake still couldn't believe Sara had lied to him, left him, and cheated him out of three years with his son.  Finding it hard to absorb, fighting off the dark anger he didn't want to influence his attitude toward Christopher, he suddenly felt the immensity of the responsibility that had fallen on him out of nowhere.  Without warning, or time to prepare, he was a father again.  This time he had to do it right.  This time he had to make sure his son was safe every minute of every day.  He didn't want to let the boy out of his sight.  Yet he knew he had to temper his fears.

What was Sara planning?  Why had she told him now?  Was she willing to move back to L.A.?  Would she let him be a parent?  She had no choice.  No matter where she lived, Christopher was Jake's son and he'd get to know his child one way or another.  The problem was--how was he going to handle having Sara back in his life?

The way he handled everything else...very carefully.

"Look, Daddy."

The sound of the title, the childlike quality of Christopher's voice, tore Jake apart.  Because he remembered another time, another voice.  Yet when Christopher handed him the gray stone and his small fingers touched Jake's palm, Jake felt the pride of fatherhood again.  Yes, this time he would do it right.

A half hour later, when Jake and his son returned to the kitchen, Christopher ran to his mother.  "Milk, Mommy?  Daddy drinks milk, too!"

Sara's gaze met Jake's with uncertainty.  The fact of the matter was that he felt such confusion about Sara right now, he knew he needed time away from her and Christopher so he could think, and plan, and decide the best route to take.  He certainly didn't trust her.  He might never be able to trust her again.

She went to the refrigerator and opened the door, pulling out the milk carton.  "Jake, would you like to stay for a while, maybe for dinner?"

Jake looked at Christopher and then back at her.  "No.  I have to get back.  I left some work unfinished."  He turned to his son.  "But I'll see you again.  Soon."  He ruffled Christopher's hair.  "We can have milk and cookies together next time.  Okay?"

Christopher bobbed his head enthusiastically.

Sara waited for the three-year-old to sit at the table, then she poured him a glass of milk.  "I'll be right at the front door.  Aunt El's in her sewing room.  If you go in there with her, don't touch anything unless she says you can."

Jake had trouble tearing himself away from Christopher, putting physical distance between them.  After a last long look, he walked to the front door.  Sara stood a few feet from him.

His voice was gruff with all the unsaid thoughts and feelings churning inside him.  "Are you going back to Wasco?"

She straightened her shoulders and tilted up her chin, looking directly into his eyes.  "What do you want, Jake?"

The question she should have asked four years ago intensified the churning in his gut, and he couldn't keep the anger at bay.  "So now you're going to think about that?"

"I've always thought about what you wanted and didn't want."

She was lying.  She couldn't have thought about him and still kept Christopher away for so long.  Silence stretched between them until he said in a low tone, "I need time to think.  Just don't go running off without telling me.  Because if you do--"

She didn't let him finish his warning.  "I won't.  Do you want to spend time with Christopher tomorrow?"

Could he believe she wouldn't run?  Could he believe she'd stay at least until they made some decisions?  He looked into the kitchen where his son was still drinking his milk.  "I'll call you."

And with that, Jake stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him, in more turmoil than he'd experienced in years.

Chapter Two

Jake strode into his office, expecting to be alone.  But Gillian was still there, sitting at her desk, sorting through mail.  "You missed your appointment with Mrs. Johnson.  I took down the information and told her you'd call her."

"Damn!  I forgot."

"You don't forget appointments, Jake.  What's going on?"

Jake walked over to Gillian's son who was sleeping peacefully in the portable playpen.  He couldn't begin to sort out his feelings for himself, let alone tell Gillian about them.  In his mind he saw Christopher as he'd sat playing in the sun.  Pain sliced through him again.

"Jake?  What's wrong?"  Gillian's voice was worried.

Though Gillian had psychic powers that helped her find missing persons, she used her intuition more than she used her "gift" to tune into people.  That's why their partnership as private investigators worked so well.  Her intuition matched with his skill, logic and contacts could find almost anybody.  That's what he did now--he found people.  He didn't get in the middle of divorces or track down thieves anymore.

Gillian was waiting for an answer, and he knew she wouldn't let him evade her.  Of course, that was the down side of their partnership, sometimes she was too intuitive.  "Sara and I...have a history."

"This room sizzled yesterday with whatever is between the two of you."

Jake went to the window and stared outside.  "She walked out on our wedding because I didn't want kids.  Today, she told me we have one.  He's three plus a few months and his name is Christopher."  Jake had told few people about his background, but Gillian and her husband Nathan knew about his childhood, Mary Beth and Davie.  He'd never told them about Sara.

"What are you going to do?"

He ran his hand through his hair.  "That's the million dollar question.  I just met him.  He's great.  Intelligent, friendly, curious..."

"His mother probably had a lot to do with that."

Jake scowled.  "Maybe.  But every time I look at him…"  He swore.  "This is why I didn't want more kids.  How can I protect him, keep him safe, give him everything he needs--"

"How does Sara feel about you spending time with him?"

Jake tried to shove away the anger and the ache in his heart whenever he pictured Sara so he could think more clearly.  Sinking into his desk chair, he wheeled to face Gillian.  "You know, you ask a lot of questions."

Gillian put down the letters.  "You know, I care."

He could be himself with Gillian and her husband.  And they did care about him.  "I haven't thought about all the questions, let alone the answers.  How would you feel if you were just told you had a son and you'd missed the first three years of his life?"

"Angry.  Rattled.  Confused."

Jake rocked back and forth on the springs.  "Yeah.  All three.  Plus.  Except I know one thing.  I'm not going to lose him like I lost Davie.  I just have to figure out the best way to deal with all this."

"What about his mother?"

Jake stopped rocking.  "What about her?"

"What do you feel?"

He stood and paced the office.  "Mad!  She ran out on me. She lied to me.  And yet when I look at her..."  He stopped pacing and more to himself than to Gillian, he muttered, "I still get turned inside out."

"You don't have to take on the problems of the world by yourself, you know.  Nathan and I are here if you want to talk."

"That's not my style."

"You might have to change your style to handle this one."

Jake's mind buzzed with scrambled pictures from the past--Mary Beth and Davie, the first day he'd met Sara on the college campus where he was giving a seminar on teenagers and the criminal justice system, the day she'd agreed to marry him, the night she'd called it off.  All of it still hurt.  Too damn much.  There was no way he could begin to talk about it, not even with Gillian and Nathan.

And Sara...No matter what happened with Christopher, he'd protect himself this time.  He wouldn't let her in.  He wouldn't give her the chance to hurt him again.

#

Cutting sandwiches into halves, Sara stacked them on a plate.  When she glanced up at the kitchen clock, her heart beat faster.  Jake would be stopping by soon.  Usually they'd finished lunch by the time he arrived to play with Christopher, but she'd spent the morning at her mother's trying to pack up the dining room.

Every day for a week, Jake had visited his son, playing with him, building with blocks, digging in the soil making mud pies.  He tried hard to hide his thoughts, but Sara could see the strain on his face…in his body language.  She knew he was remembering Davie.  She knew he resented her.  But instead of putting it into words, he was keeping it inside.  She wanted to help him, but he wouldn't let her get close.  Their conversations were superficial, the tension between them always simmering.  She kept telling herself that she was  prepared for his anger, but part of her kept hoping he'd understand and forgive her.

Expecting him, she'd left the front door open.  When Jake rang the bell, she called, "Come in."

He entered the kitchen, his jeans, T-shirt and rakish hair enhancing his rugged male appeal.  "You shouldn't let just anybody wander in."

"I knew you'd be coming."

"This isn't Wasco, Sara."

She sighed.  "I know that.  I grew up here, remember?"  One look into his eyes told her he remembered other things, too.  "I'm sorry Christopher's not ready.  We didn't have lunch yet.  We were over at Mom's, packing up."

"How's it going?"

"Slowly.  It's hard."

"I could have come by this evening instead."

"No, this is fine.  It's difficult for me to be there very long."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

She stopped spreading mustard on the bread and faced him.  He wasn't offering out of politeness.  Maybe he did have some feelings left.  If he did, they could build on those.  "Not at this stage.  I have to do a lot of sorting.  I did want to ask you if you could possibly come a little later tomorrow and watch Christopher for me."

Her heart beat faster as he came to the counter where she was standing.

"Do you and Eloise want to spend the afternoon at your mom's?"

"No.  Aunt El and I have to go to the reading of Mom's will.  It shouldn't take long, an hour if that.  I can take Christopher along, but if you'd like to spend time with him, I can ask him if he wants to stay with you."

Jake stared at the plate of sandwiches for a moment.  "Is that what you want?  Or would you like me to come along?"

"You'd do that?"

Jake shrugged.  "I'm Christopher's father.  I thought there might be good reason for me to sit in."

She should have known he wouldn't be going just to give her moral support.  "Of course, I should have thought of that.  Christopher can take his coloring book.  That should occupy him.  My appointment is at two."

"Two should be fine.  Gillian will be in the office tomorrow."

Now that they were talking, she had to tell him about her plans.  "I wanted to tell you--I'll be moving back to L.A.  I've sent resumes to every day care center in the area."

"What about your life in Wasco?  You can leave it that easily?"

She thought he looked relieved about her decision, but it was hard to tell.  "About a month ago, I'd decided to look for a job in L.A.  The day care center where I worked closed and I had to make a change anyway.  I was trying to get up the courage to tell you about Christopher when Mom died."

Jake shifted against the counter and his arm brushed hers.  "So I'll be able to see Christopher whenever I want."

It wasn't a question, but a challenge.  "You can see him whenever you want...
within reason.
"

He looked as if he hadn't expected her to stand up to him.  But she wouldn't let her guilt override what was best for their son.

"And who's going to decided what's within reason?" he asked blandly, though his eyes had darkened.

"We'll have to compromise or let Aunt Eloise be the judge.  She'd be fair."

He was standing so close that she could catch the scent of his aftershave, trace his shoulder muscles in the worn T-shirt.  For a moment she thought she saw respect in his eyes if nothing else, and in that same moment, she thought he leaned closer. 

Then, like a bolt of thunder startling her, the back door opened and Christopher scrambled in.  "Is lunch ready?"

Jake stepped away, his expression unreadable.  Sara felt shut out again and was left with an emptiness she'd known for far too long.