Forever After (27 page)

"You're a gem, Mrs. Standish.  Your pot roast could win a medal."  Jake's tone was teasing but conveyed his appreciation of her mother's culinary skill.

Jennie Standish laughed.  "You can tell from the aroma?  I think maybe you just haven't eaten properly all day.  And, by the way, Jake, don't you think since you're marrying my daughter this weekend, you could call me Jennie?"

There was a pause.  "I'd like that."

Sara understood the huskiness in Jake's voice.  He'd lost his own mother and appreciated the bond he was building with hers.

"Jake, there is something I'd like to discuss with you before Sara arrives."

"Is there a problem?"

Jennie Standish's tone was gentle.  "I don't know.  Sara tells me you don't want to have children."

He didn't answer immediately, but finally said, "That's right."

"You know Sara loves children.  For three years she's worked in that day care center.  I told her somehow I'd manage to send her to college full time instead of part time, but over and over she's reminded me the experience would make her a better teacher when she does get her degree.  She loves working with little children.  I think she'd do it even if she didn't get paid."

The house was quiet for a few moments as Sara waited for Jake's response.

"We believe our love is enough."

"Your love needs to spill over, Jake.  It needs to be bigger than the two of you."

His voice was sad with a raspy catch.  "You don't understand."

"Make me understand so I know Sara won't regret this pact she's made with you."

"Did Sara tell you about my wife and son?"

"She told me you're divorced."

"Yes.  Because of what happened.  Because--"

Sara knew Jake held in his emotions and didn't want to appear vulnerable to anyone.  It came from his upbringing, from his years as a member of the police force, from the sticky situations he'd handled as a private investigator, from the loss of his son.

A chair scraped the linoleum and in her mind's eye, Sara could see Jake, his broad shoulders, his wavy black hair, his brown eyes that could hide every thought in his head so well, as he sat in the kitchen chair.

"I grew up in the projects."

"Sara did tell me that.  I figured it had something to do with you becoming a police officer.  But she didn't tell me why you gave it up, why you decided to become a private investigator instead."

"I became a cop because I thought I could clean up the city, make a difference.  But it's not possible, Mrs. Standish."  He corrected himself.  "Jennie.  I was a cop for eight years, and I didn't make a dent let alone a difference.  You wouldn't believe the misery I saw.  Then that misery touched me."

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"I was married.  We had a six year old--Davie.  Full of life and fun.  I was working the night shift.  Mary Beth and Davie decided to go to the video store for a movie.  My car was parked behind hers.  Davie ran out ahead of her and opened the driver's door so he could crawl in beside her.  The car exploded."

"Oh, Jake."

"I heard Mary Beth's screams.  I still hear them.  Neither of us could do anything.  We found out later a guy I'd collared did it.  It was an act of revenge.  But the bomb took the wrong person, and I was to blame.  Mary Beth blamed me, too.  Our marriage fell apart."

"Jake, I'm so sorry."

"I won't bring a child into a world of suffering, into a world that doesn't cherish its children or protect them by keeping criminals like that thug behind bars instead of paroling them.  I will never get over losing Davie.  Not in this lifetime or the next.  Don't you see?  I can't have more children.  I can't put myself through that again."

Sara leaned against the closet door.  She knew his pain went deep, but she'd hoped their marriage would heal the wounds.  Yet, she also knew if he wasn't ready for healing, he'd fight it.  A child could make the pain deeper instead of healing him.  She'd been naive to think the news of her pregnancy might be welcome.  Jake said what he believed.  He was passionate about what he felt.  Could she trap him in a situation he didn't want?  What would happen to his feelings for her?

If she told him about the baby, she knew what Jake would do.  He'd go through with the wedding because he was an honorable man.  But what kind of marriage would they have?

Tears flooded her eyes.  Certainly a marriage he didn't want, a child who'd remind him every day of the son he'd lost.  He'd resent the pain.  He'd resent her.  Worst of all, though he'd never admit it, he'd resent their child.  She couldn't bear to see the love they'd shared erode with each passing day, each time Jake looked at her and their child and realized he was imprisoned in his anguish.

Her love wasn't strong enough to watch the feelings between them die instead of grow.  Yet she had to give them one last chance, one last chance for Jake to put their love before his pain.

With trembling fingers she brushed the tears from her cheeks.  Lifting her chin, she walked into the kitchen.

Jake's head came up.  His brown eyes warmed just for her.  Standing, he took her in his arms and hugged her.  "Hi, there."  His voice was still low and husky from the strain of sharing the past with her mother.  "I was worried.  Did you get tied up at work?"

"No.  I need to talk to you.  Let's go into the living room."

"But your mother has supper ready."

Jennie Standish's gaze passed quickly over the two of them, worried because she knew from the tone of Sara's voice that something was wrong.  "That's all right.  I can keep everything warm."

Jake took Sara's hand and walked with her to the sofa.  When they were seated, he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her.  Her fear kept her from responding with her usual fervor, and he leaned away, never a man to push, never a man to take more than she wanted to give.

The gold in his eyes told her better than words that his desire for her would ignite with a kiss, a touch, a smile.  But she had none of them for him now.  Meeting his gaze, she took a deep breath.  "Jake, I need to ask you something."  She unconsciously placed her hand on her stomach.  "Do you think you'll ever change your mind about having children?"

The gold disappeared as his eyes darkened with pain.  "Sara..."

"I want your children.  And I...need to have a baby.  To feel fulfilled in our marriage.  To feel fulfilled as a woman."  A tiny kernel of Sara inside her heart urged her to believe that her announcement might change Jake's mind, that they could have a happy future.

The nerve in his jaw worked.  "We had an agreement."

A sob lodged in her throat but she pushed out the rest of what she had to say.  "I know.  But I can't keep it."

For a moment, she saw...devastation.  And for that moment, she could see all the pain he tried to hide from the loss of his son, the depth of the wound she thought she could help heal.  She'd been naive again.

Jake turned away, his lean cheeks taut.  When he met her gaze again, she couldn't see anything but his dark brown eyes.  He'd erected a wall...against her.  She could feel it as tangibly as she'd felt his love a second before.

Stoicism marked his face as he asked, "What are you trying to tell me?"

Her heart broke and she knew it would never be the same again.  She loved Jake too much to trap him.  "That...that I need to have children and if you truly don't want them...then I can't marry you."

"Sara..."  He spoke her name with such feeling…then all emotion was gone.  "You're calling off the wedding?"

"Jake, I have to.  I have to think about the future.  Can't you do that?  Can't you imagine--?"

He reached for her, then dropped his hand.  "No, I can't.  I can't imagine you pregnant, worrying day after day, night after night, whether you and the baby will be all right.  I can't imagine caring for an infant, chasing after a toddler, knowing I can't protect him.  And most of all, I can't imagine the aching every time I'd look at our child because I'd miss Davie even more.  No, I can't imagine it, Sara, because at times even now the pain is unbearable.  I can't imagine it being even worse.  If you need children in your life, then you're right to call off the wedding."

He stood, moving away from her, moving out of her life.  "Tell your mom I won't be staying for dinner.  Tell her whatever you need to tell her."

Sara took one last chance.  "Jake, you can't leave like this.  We can talk--"

He shook his head.  "There's nothing to talk about.  We've made our choices.  Now we'll have to live with them."

His tall body was rigid.  She wanted to hold him and make everything right.  But she couldn't.  She had to let him go.

Jake Donovan didn't meet her gaze again, didn't touch her, didn't say good-bye.  He simply walked out the door.

Chapter One

Almost Four Years Later

In a fog, Sara walked around the house her mother had rented in Los Angeles for most of her life.  She picked up a needlework magazine on the coffee table.  Crossing to her mother's favorite easy chair, she opened the tapestry bag with her mother's knitting.  A small sweater was almost finished.  Jennie Standish had intended it to be a Christmas present for her grandson.  Christmas...a time for families and love and--

Sara had been debating with herself ever since Christopher was born--as she'd fed him, and changed him, and cared for him in Wasco, a small town about two hours away.  She'd thought her love for Jake and her memories of him would fade with the years, but they hadn't.  She saw him in Christopher's brown eyes, the quirk of his smile, the beauty of him.  She constantly questioned whether she'd done the right thing when she'd left L.A. without telling him about her pregnancy.

With Christopher's first birthday, she'd told herself that Jake had probably gone on with his life.  During Christopher's second year, every time she visited her mom in L.A., she'd thought about calling Jake.  And this past year as Christopher had learned and grown and asked more questions about the world around him, she'd doubted her decision daily.

A month ago, the owners of the day care facility in Wasco where she'd worked had informed her they'd be closing it at the end of the month.  They'd said operating costs were too high and the profit margin not great enough.  Thinking about moving back here, she'd sent resumes all over Los Angeles, seriously considering telling Jake they had a son.

Then two weeks ago, she received a phone call from her aunt in the middle of the night, a phone call that had changed her life.  Her mother's unexpected death had shaken up Sara's world.  It had made her look at her life with Christopher more closely--what he needed.  They had Aunt Eloise, her mother's sister.  But no one else.  Christopher needed his father.  Soon he'd begin to ask specific questions.  Sara couldn't lie to him.  She wanted to tell him what a wonderful man his father was.  She wanted him to know Jake because he deserved to know his father.  Now, all she had to do was pick up the telephone...

The doorbell rang and Sara jumped.  Maybe it was Aunt El.  She'd offered to watch Christopher so Sara could start packing her mother's belongings, so she could spend some time alone with her thoughts--in the house where she'd grown up, in the house she'd soon have to vacate.

When she answered the door, a man in a green uniform stood on the porch.  "Eloise Murray told me I could find Sara Standish here.  I have a package for her."

"I'm Sara Standish."

"Sign here, please."

Sara signed the paper on the clipboard and the young man gave her the manila envelope.  She thanked him, closed the door, and checked the letterhead.  It was from her mother's lawyer.  Sara had met the white-haired, older man when she was a teenager, after her father died.

Slipping her thumb under the flap, she tore the envelope open.  Inside, she found a sealed letter along with a note from the lawyer.

Dear Miss Standish,

Your mother instructed me to deliver this letter to you upon her death.  I will call you in a few days to set up a time for the reading of her will.

My sincere condolences,

George Gunthry

With shaking fingers, she carefully opened the ivory envelope.

Darling Sara,

I know this will be a difficult time for you.  But there is something I'd like you to do.  Do you remember your father's gold pocket watch?  It's in my jewelry box.  I want you to give it to Jake.  George made my will after your father died.  I preferred not to tamper with it because I want this bequest to be a personal moment between you and Jake.  Before Christopher was born, you made a decision considering Jake's wishes.  Maybe it's time to consider yours and Christopher's.

I love you, Sara.  All I've ever wanted is your happiness.  Be happy, sweetheart, no matter what you decide.

Mom

Was this her mother's way of giving her a last bit of guidance, a gentle shove?  Making her face Jake again and her feelings for him?

It was time to face the truth, to let Jake decide if he wanted to be a part of his son's life.  It was time to let go of the guilt and the doubts and put the decision in his hands.